by Alma Boykin
Once the ’Hart landed, the symbiote informed Rada that it would not go any closer to the disturbance than its current location. The Wanderer soothed the creature, fed it a little, and then poked her nose out of the ship. She smelled wet loam, ozone, and half-tasted, half-smelled the bitter flavor of blackleaf trees. North wind and rain. Looooovely the felinoid sighed to herself.
One of her troopers appeared from the evening shadows as Rada walked quickly toward the military wing of the palace complex. “Lord Mammal? Defender Nree says that you are to proceed directly to the lesser audience chamber,” the quadrupedal reptile began. Once they reached a pool of light, the soldier hesitated before suggesting, “Ah, perhaps a brief stop by the Lord Defender’s quarters might not cause undue delay, Lord Mammal?”
The corner of Rada’s mouth quirked up. “Are you suggesting that my current robes are not suitable, corporal?”
“Oh, no, my lord. Not at all, just that,” the reptile sputtered something unintelligible, then fell back to take up a position behind the Lord Defender as Rada entered her passcode and let herself into the building. Since Rada had intentionally arrived early in order to have time to change into her uniform, she didn’t rip the reptile’s tail off. She did let him stew, however.
Half an hour later the mammal knelt, studying the intricately patterned wooden floor of the lesser audience chamber. Footsteps on tile clicked briefly, then “uugh-whunf!” as King-Emperor Schleer levered his heft onto the bench-like throne on the dais. Once the reptile caught his breath, he ordered, “You may rise.” Rada got to her feet, standing at parade rest.
The King-Emperor and Lord Defender studied each other with cordial mutual loathing. Rada kept her face politely neutral and attentive while Schleer held his spines down and tail still by sheer force of will. “Something is wrong at Edgehill. Fix it,” the grossly overweight reptile grated. “Take two squads and some reserves, but only if you really need them. Tomorrow morning should be soon enough. You are dismissed.”
The Wanderer unclenched her fists before her claws drew blood. “Very well, Imperial Majesty.” She bowed, backed five paces, then spun and strode out, taking care to make no whisper of sound until she reached the corridor. Then her boot heels rang a warning to anyone unlucky enough to cross her path.
Rada went to her office and checked the time marker. It was eight hours after midday at the Palace-Capital, so it would be six-and-a-half hours after midday at Edgehill and Lord Karsee’s estate of KarsTown. The next closest Defender post would be, what? Rada called up a map and measured distances from both settlements. “The next closest posts are Cloudsnare and Drystream. Hmmm.” Rada finger combed the end of her tail as she considered her options. Cloudsnare was thirty kliqs closer, but only if one flew and the weather stayed good. By road it would take at least three extra hours for them to get to Edgehill. “Nree?” Rada called.
Rada’s second-in-command failed to respond. “Defender Nree, come to my office at once,” Rada repeated, raising her voice. She heard talons on stone, and the sound of a bench moving, but nothing else. A very broad, toothy expression appeared on the Wanderer’s face and she undid the safety strap on her sword. Rada stalked out of her office and found the NCO on duty.
“Sergeant Daik, where is Defender Nree?”
“Ah, my lord, I believe he is with, um, he’s entertaining company in his quarters.” The reptile twitched with discomfort. “Shall I call him in?”
The expression on his commanding officer’s face terrified the dark green male. “No, thank you, Sergeant Daik. I will speak with him personally.”
Rada stalked up to the officer’s door, her boots silent on the stone floor. Although Nree had turned on the non-disturb field, he’d failed to lock the door. Rada bared all her teeth, her ears flat against her skull, her tail fur fully expanded.
Rada slammed the door open, bursting in to find Nree fully engaged with a pleasuremate. “You, female, out! Take your fee and go,” Rada barked. As the tan reptile somehow ducked out of Nree’s grip and slid out of the way, Rada stormed to Nree’s sleeping platform and grabbed his exposed genitals with one hand while jabbing his throat with the tip of her sword. “You are on duty, Captain Nree.” Rada twisted her wrist and Nree moaned and squeaked. “Can’t speak while I’m holding your brain, Nree?” She twisted again.
“No, my lord. That is, my lord, forgive, I,” he began babbling as her grip tightened and she pushed her forefinger on an especially sensitive spot. “Aaaiiieeee!” the dark brown male wailed.
“By rights I should execute you for dereliction of duty right here and now,” the Lord Defender warned her former executive officer. Rada released his genitals and leaned more weight on her sword blade, drawing blood before she straightened up. She bared her teeth as she heard talon scrapes and mutters from outside the open door. “Edgehill and KarsTown have vanished. And you are sticking your favorite toy, such as it is, into a female rather than seeing what has happened to the males under your command and the civilians living near them. Lucky for you, or perhaps not, I need you to—” and she dodged backwards as he lunged for her.
“Hair-covered storm,” and the rest of his words dissolved into gurgling and whistling as Rada stabbed and twisted, slicing his throat open.
She turned to find every Defender who could fit in the doorway staring at her. She raised one eyebrow. “Problem?”
“Ah, no, Lord Mammal,” Captain Tarkee replied. “You do recall that he was the King-Emperor’s nephew?”
“Illegitimate nephew, Captain. His sire never acknowledged him, and I can see why,” Rada reminded the other officer, her voice and manner composed. “Have someone see to the remains, please.” Rada wiped her blade off on a discarded lounging robe and stalked through the gathered soldiers.
Once back in her office, she dropped into her chair. “Ah, fewmets.” More paperwork. She really had not wanted to kill Nree, just discipline him. But he’d taken that option out of her hands when he attacked her. “Blast it.” Rada ran a hand over her hair and rubbed behind one ear before calling Drystream base.
“This is Drystream, go ahead,” came the immediate answer.
“Drystream base, Commander Lord Ni Drako. I need two squads to meet me at the attached location and at the specified time.” The location and time data went under the video transmission, twice encrypted. Rada had to assume that someone else was monitoring her communications.
“Understood, my Lord Mammal. I have a squad that can depart now, if necessary,” Lt. Tyree offered.
“Good to know, but no, Lieutenant. If we are dealing with anything more than a simple communications problem, I want to see what I am walking into. And how long has the satellite coverage been out in that area?”
“Understood, my Lord Mammal.” The young officer hesitated, and then admitted, “Ah, my lord, we’ve increased patrols since the storms last week, and are encouraging civilians to stay away from Edgehill. I don’t like the silence, my lord. And the satellite coverage failed just after Edgehill stopped responding. I wanted to widen our patrol range, but Defender Nree ordered us to stay in our usual territory.”
I should have killed Nree before I left. I may kill him again. Rada rubbed her temple. “Well done, Tyree. I should be there by ten local time. Report anything you might see or hear in the meantime.”
“Ten our time and we will report anything we find,” he promised.
“Good. Ni Drako out.”
“Drystream clear.”
After the communication terminated, Rada sat back in her chair and drummed her claws on the table. She should have been en route to Edgehill right that very moment, but something stopped her. Something strange that bothered her, gnawing and skittering just at the edge of her awareness, warning the mammal off. She retreated to her tiny excuse for quarters within the Defenders’ barracks. She had no trouble sleeping and if she dreamed, she did not remember it.
The Lord Defender departed the palace well before sunrise. She flew in her personal fighter, Night�
�s Claw, with a series of escorts from the various Defender posts en route. She managed to cross the Wildlands before the wind really picked up. Summer mountain crossings could make even Rada queasy. Still wary, the mammal did not try to fly directly over either Edgehill or KarsTown. Instead she skirted them, radios tuned to the civilian frequencies. She did not even hear static and her sense of trouble grew stronger. If the power’s down, I should hear static. Instead I hear carrier but no message, as if something is interfering with both my equipment and theirs, but I’m not getting a jamming alert. By the Debt Collector’s black heart, what is going on?
Lt. Tyree and his senior sergeant met the Lord Defender at a fresh clearing in the forest a kliq or so from the main road. Rada stood on her seat after unplugging her helmet and armor cables and hoses. “That was quite a storm, Lieutenant,” she observed, pointing with her tail to a freshly downed tree.
“Yes, my lord, it was. Can we interest you in shares of lumber and firewood?” Tyree leaned onto his strong-side legs and spat a cud of something out of his muzzle. His sergeant flinched at the informality.
“Brief me as we load up, please, lieutenant.”
Sergeant Leeks hesitated, rocking back onto his hind legs and tail. “My Lord Mammal, how many do you require to secure your transport?”
“None, sergeant.” Rada turned back and watched as the security interlocks finished connecting. “It has a genetic lock along with the standard mechanical systems. And no Azdhag smaller than the Great Shi-Dan can reach all the controls. And Shi-Dan couldn’t have fit into the cockpit.”
Tyree and Leeks both tipped their heads to the side. “Cockpit, my lord?” Tyree sounded the word out as best he could.
“A term for where the pilot sits, lieutenant. Derived from a colloquial term for part of the male anatomy, or so I’ve been told.”
Since the Azdhagi used a similar term to describe the recessed area behind the main gun on their armored personnel carriers, the two males gestured their understanding and led Rada to the waiting ground vehicles.
“My lord, to start at the beginning,” the green-striped officer began. Rada made a forefoot gesture of assent and he took a deep breath. “The storm blasted through, beginning just before noon three days ago and continuing until dawn the next day. The last report, a standard weather update, came in from Edgehill late on the afternoon of the storm, five hours after noon?” Tyree glanced at Leek, who made a confirming tail motion. “Five hours after noon. The satellite feed died around two hours before midnight, as best we can tell. The storm took us offline and I refuse to send men out to look at antennas when trees are falling on our heads.”
“Unless we are at war there’s no point in endangering people unnecessarily,” Rada agreed, climbing into her seat in the third transport.
Tyree followed and continued his narrative once they’d plugged into the intercom. “Edgehill missed the midnight update but so did we and so did Cloudsnare, KarsTown, Hotrocks and a few other places. When we heard nothing at dawn, my comm tech tried to raise KarsTown. They responded, so we assumed that Edgehill just had equipment or flooding problems. When they still failed to reply later that day, we asked permission to go visit and were denied.”
Rada’s stomach began sinking as her fur bristled. “What about KarsTown?”
“Last heard from them yesterday morning, maybe.” Tyree made sideways swooping motions with one forefoot. “A burst of sound came over the emergency band from KarsTown but cut off.”
“Mmmm,” Rada grunted. “And nothing on the satellite net.”
“No, Lord Mammal. The Palace says they show nothing and no problems.”
The mammal gritted her teeth. “That’s because they were looking at the test pattern, lieutenant. No, I am not joking,” she warned, preempting his next question. “If you know of any good comm and image analysis technicians who would be willing to do a tour at the Palace, let me know. There are going to be openings. The satellite is no longer in orbit, or if it is it has gone completely dead.”
Tyree and the other reptiles shifted in the seats, uncomfortable. What else might have gotten through if the satellites failed? Where were the Imperials, whose job it was to keep uninvited guests out of the Drakon system?
“So, our first stop is where?” Rada leaned against the improvised safety harness so that she could see Tyree’s in-armor display.
Tyree called up a map. “Here, at Little Meadow. They are on our route and may have heard something, if Edgehill’s short-range systems worked for longer than their long-range ones did.” An unlikely prospect but possible, and Rada could tell that the lieutenant truly hoped they were only dealing with a series of coincidences. Rada shared Tyree’s hopes, but her sense of dread had grown stronger as the kliqs passed.
That sense of dread led Rada to order one squad of twenty Defenders to bypass Little Meadow and stop on the other side of the hamlet. Half of the troops with Rada dismounted outside the settlement while the rest, including Lt. Tyree, buttoned up and rolled in ready for battle.
As soon as she dismounted, Rada smelled death. So did the Defenders with her, and several of them swung their gas guards over their nostrils. Rada hooked her own mask into place, activating the helmet’s electronics suite, including the infrared overlay on her optics. The soldiers advanced with great care, scanning each dwelling and other building for any signs of life. All they found was death—death enough to make Rada’s fur stand on end.
She’d seen dead Azdhagi before, of course, but never an entire village of dead Azdhagi, many of them bearing the marks of torture. The attackers had murdered even the youngest juniors, and the sight forced Rada to turn away and count to two hundred in order to regain her composure when she found the pile of little bodies. They’d been killed early on in the massacre, judging by the state of decay and the marks on their dams. The females had struggled to reach the juniors, or so Rada and her soldiers guessed from the marks on the females’ bodies. Rada fought back tears and nausea both. The sadism matched the worst she’d seen in her long career and boded ill for Edgehill and KarsTown.
“Lord Ni Drako, all the settlers are accounted for,” Sergeant Leeks informed Rada, his eyes locked on the mammal. He’d already lost the contents of his stomach, as had many of the Defenders. Rada would have too except for her training. You never, ever vomited inside a helmet’s facemask, not after the kind of conditioning she’d endured.
“Thank you, Sergeant.” She looked around and made a decision. “At the risk of alerting our enemies, I think we need to prepare a single pyre.” There was no point in doing more forensics than the basic battlefield analysis required. Her men would probably mutiny if she ordered anything more.
“Agreed, Lord Mammal.” He rose on his hind legs and studied the sky. “If we work quickly, we can use the afternoon storm to cover the smoke, at least at first. And if we use the central meeting square, the fire won’t spread.”
“Do it, Sergeant.” Rada herself carried the juniors to the pyre, laying them beside their dams and the other females. As the males gathered fuel from the houses and workshops, Rada thought about the dead villagers’ killers. They inflicted pain for a reason; that could be seen in the manner of the Azdhagi deaths. But why? To leave a message for whoever found them? Possibly, although when people did that, they usually left at least one person alive to emphasize the point, and that did not appear to be the case with Little Meadow. Could they have been after information? Maybe, but what kind of information could be gleaned from the ground that was not available from monitoring Azdhagi civilian communications? And why not booby-trap the bodies, unless the attackers did not expect anyone to follow? Rada stared up at the clouds building into an afternoon storm and let her thoughts roam.
A third possibility came to mind and made Rada’s skin crawl. Whatever murdered the Azdhagi had needed them to suffer. Master Thomas had mentioned once or twice during Rada’s training that some species fed on the products of stress hormones, and that a few researchers had theorized
that it might be possible to feed off the energy released by certain kinds of physical suffering. Oh, I hope not. Blessed Bookkeeper, please may that be nothing more than academic supposition and spacers’ tales. When it came to cases, Rada suspected that her first guess was correct. The invaders had landed near Little Meadow and had massacred the witnesses in order to either discourage investigation or to draw the Defenders in. Or had they landed near Edgehill and spread in two directions? Or at KarsTown, which meant the attackers could be very close to the Defenders at that very moment.
One of the men also served as his squad’s priest, and he officiated over the burning. Rada stayed out of the way, praying not to the Azdhagi Ancestors but to anyone else who happened to be within range. She’d ordered the Defenders still outside of the town to remain there, securing the perimeter. Rada recalled that some Azdhagi troops on Sidara had gone berzerk after a similar massacre during the colonial war, and she needed at least some of her troopers to remain in control of themselves when they met the enemy. As the black smoke rose into the dark clouds, Rada snarled. Someone would pay and pay dearly, and not just the invaders if she had her way.
The two heavy squads encountered nothing until a few kliqs from Edgehill. One of the outriders reported motion and the column stopped, ready for action. “Stand down,” a voice called. “Stand down. A friendly.” Rada poked her head out of the hatch and saw a royal blue and crimson True-dragon, his forefeet on the edge of the lead vehicle’s armor, talking to the vehicle’s commander. The Wanderer put her fingers in her mouth and whistled.
«Who’s that?» roared into her head, almost knocking Rada out of her seat. She quickly brought her shields up, kicking herself for not keeping them up. She’d gotten lazy from being around the Azdhagi. Compared to her and the True-dragons, the Azdhagi were head-blind, impervious to telepathy and empathy both.
«Commander Rada Lord Ni Drako. You have news?»