‘Consider this a greeting, but also a warning. We don’t take kindly to those who threaten our race.’
As quickly as it had appeared, the fog disappeared.
Marshal came in a few seconds later.
‘I heard you talking…’
‘Marshal, I need you to contact Aven. Can you do that?’
Marshal raised his eyebrow suspiciously. ‘Sure, I can do that. What do you need?’
‘I need to know if he’s ever heard about any organised society of human Warpmancers. Maybe Krag-Zot will know.’
‘I doubt that the Immortal would know anything. He seemed shocked to even see that you had the ability. I don’t know anything of the sort, either. Why do you need to know?’
‘There’s another force at work here, and I want to know all I can about it before we meet again.’
Gretswald had never felt wanted, until now. As he strolled through the shambles of dirty people and shacks, he did not take notice of the grime but rather the looks. Throughout his life as a Glaris missionary of the Imperial doctrine, he had never received a welcoming. Those he had sought to save, tossed him off like an unwanted pitslug. He had been a parasite, and treated like one.
But now, things were different. Now that he wore black and blue, and not white, he had become accepted. It had not been hard to revoke loyalty to the Council after seeing the Fall of Zona Nox. Nathan’s explanations of how the Imperial Council had harmed him and much of humanity was only an appetiser. His teachings, of course, had tried to prepare him to cope with such scenario. The teachings would have told him to excuse the death as the mere crushing of an anthill. The removal of zots. A necessity for a greater good. An unfortunate, but sometimes necessary, act. Gretswald’s time with humanity had taught him otherwise. Every face and every figure, glaring at him. Not him, he corrected himself. His faith. What he represented. To these people, like Nathan, who had lost friends and family to the Council, he was the gravest insult. That was no longer the case. He saw the Council destroy Zona Nox. He recognised the white vessels, cloaked or not, as they sped off out of the now toxic atmosphere. The Imperial Council were dead to him.
For a time, Gretswald wandered the metal halls of the ship and Nexus without aim. He was a peddler without goods and a soldier without a flag. He spent his days in free Network cafes. The technology was new to him and allowed him to learn much of the world. It was here that he found his new purpose.
While reading old records on the Ganymede Incident, a war a decade prior where the Troopers and Imperials had skirmished, a message filled Gretswald’s screen.
‘The Defiant is here. Zonians unite! The Governor must be overthrown. Fight for survival. Rise up! Rise up and secure your freedom.’
Gretswald was intrigued and searched the Network for mention of this Defiant. It had not taken long for message boards to fill up with discussions on the Defiant and his message of freedom. A page had been set up speaking about the atrocities that the Nexus security forces had been conducting upon the Zonian refugees. It was on this page that he saw a face that he recognised. A young man with dark hair and pale skin, carrying a rifle. Leading a squad against all odds. Crushing the Xank, freeing his people.
He was the Defiant – and Gretswald knew him.
James. The Trooper Captain who had abused him on Zona Nox, but understandably so. The Defiant’s message was one of freedom, not one of oppression. Gretswald had since learnt how his old mantra had been one of hate and dictatorship.
He followed a new path now.
So, he preached a new word. The people listened. They cheered. They clung to his every word – and when their god finally appeared, he had become the prophet.
James was ecstatic when he spotted a familiar red and green creature moving around the camp. He had been undertaking one of his usual patrols of the camp at the behest of Gretswald, when he spotted a familiar face and creature speaking to Marshal.
He sprinted between the lines of shacks, drawing a lot of glances, some dubious but others reverent.
Marshal saw him coming and stopped talking.
‘Urg’a! You’re here!’ James was giddy with excitement. He never thought he’d see the kindly Vacaraptor again.
Urg’a grinned with razor-sharp teeth. ‘Long time, Captain.’
Behind the short reptilian creature stood a timid looking boy of about fifteen.
‘Tim, I’m glad to see you.’
‘Me too, Strike Leader,’ Tim smiled, shyly.
‘What happened to you guys?’
‘I found them baking in Red Sand atop a tank,’ Nathan interjected. He gave a nod to Urg’a and a wink to Tim.
‘I was searching for you when we found an Earth tank with these guys atop it and Gretswald running into the distance. Lost track of them after we had to evacuate Fort Nox.’
‘I was contacted by Marshal,’ Urg’a explained. ‘He sent me a message once we docked. Sent me to find his family and keep them safe.’
‘And I am eternally grateful for it.’
Marshal’s relief was palpable as he had his arms around his wife and child.
‘It was my duty as a Vel’ar and your friend. The traitor, Dedelux, was killing all Zonians and we all have an obligation to defend our brethren. Terra and all that.’
Marshal nodded.
Nathan took the pause to turn to Tim.
‘So, where’ve you been? Haven’t seen you planet-side.’
‘My pa and I were staying with family. Yellows shut down shuttles from outposts, though. So, dad decided to move to Underbelly Alpha. We got in an hour ago.’
Nathan nodded and then grinned.
‘Watch out for Gretswald here. He’s turned over a new leaf but is still holier-than-thou.’
Tim looked sceptical. ‘He turn to Terra?’
‘No. He turned to James. The Zonians are worshipping him as a being called the Defiant.’
‘Is this true, Strike leader?’
James blushed. ‘Sort of. They seem to have remembered my notoriety from Galis and our trip across Red Sand and decided that made me a worthy leader.’
‘It’s not only them,’ Marshal looked serious now. ‘I got word from Quok and Molok from the Grag-Tec ship. They want to meet you at an abandoned mine across the planet. Quok implied that that Molok was a lot more animated than usual.’
James was curious. ‘I wonder why. When they want to meet?’
‘In a few hours. You should use this opportunity to cement some loyalty with the Defiant followers. They would be honoured to accompany you.’
Nathan looked worried.
‘What is it, Nathan?’ James asked.
‘Why are we encouraging them? It gives them hope, yes, but I don’t like how fervent they are. They are dangerously fervent. They look as if they’d be willing to slaughter Nexus if you gave the command. Or even if you didn’t. Even if it means them risking themselves being slaughtered.’
‘They’re angry,’ James replied. ‘It’s understandable.’
‘Yeah, but that’s what’s worrying me. They act out of revenge today, but where does it stop? Will we even be able to stop Dedelux? We have a lot of good fighters here, but he has syns and gunships. All we’re doing is inciting an impending massacre.’
‘On the contrary,’ Marshal exclaimed. ‘We are more than capable of overthrowing Dedelux. We’re a hard bunch, but we also have help.’
‘Even then, we have no choice,’ James interjected. ‘Dedelux is an Imperial puppet. We can’t let him stay! The Imperials could arrive any day now. He’ll just hand them the keys to the city. It’s either an unlikely victory, or a guaranteed loss. It’ll be a hard fight, but we have to fight it.’
Nathan nodded and excused himself, rubbing the silver T around his neck.
James frowned. He didn’t like seeing Nathan like this. The Trooper had saved him back in Galis and even after that. He had provided the support that James had needed after Andrew’s death and Billy’
s suicide. He was the closest thing to a family that James had left.
Nathan’s doubts about the Defiant hit James much more poignantly than he made obvious. He still had doubts himself about this idea. Krag-Zot had told him all that time ago that he was to be a god and Marshal had instilled the importance of the Zonians having a leader. It seemed that Aven had gone ahead and made James’ decision for him.
But why? Why him? Marshal was the war hero. Krag-Zot was the Immortal. Aven was the head of an intergalactic intelligence agency. Why was he to be the god while so many men so much more powerful than he could take up the mantle? But James knew the answer, as much as he didn’t like it. Simply, they couldn’t.
Marshal was old and tired of fighting and leading. Aven was a recluse dominated by hatred and insecurity. Both were not Warpmancers. Krag-Zot, a Warpmancer a thousand years older than James, could lead by his powers alone – but these weren’t his people. He was an artefact and his reason for being was already dead. He served out of hatred.
James’ brooding was interrupted as a man in his middle years walked up to him, hand outstretched. His eyes were watering but his mouth held an honest smile of relief and joy.
‘Defiant, I am Tim’s father. I would like to thank you…for looking after him.’
James shook his hand. ‘No need to thank me. It was what anyone would have done. You should rather be grateful to Urg’a. He defended Tim when I could not.’
What anyone would have done? James had only included Tim because Vick had vouched for him. Vick, whose ashes now lay on a dead world under a blackened sun. James seldom thought about what had happened to the rest of his squad. He seldom wanted to. So much pain and memories of his violent arrogance. The realisation that he loved the kill more than he loved his companions. Where were Grugo, Ryan and Leroy? Only Tim, Yobu and Gretswald were left. With the pogroms around the planet, there was no guarantee that the others lived. Then there were the hundreds he had not chosen to take with him.
‘I have thanked Urg’a already. Please accept my gratitude, Defiant.’
A desperate glint appeared in his eyes. He was a true believer, seeking the acceptance of his deity.
‘Of… of course…’
‘Arnald, Arnald Herman.’
‘Well, Arnald. I am honoured to have had your son in my squad and would be honoured to have you accompany me now on a small excursion.’
‘Me?! I…I don’t know what to say. I’m only a mechanic…’
‘The army is built upon the backs of good mechanics. Can you maintain and run a shuttle?’
‘Nexus shuttles? Yes, they’re completely different from what we had in Galis but I can get them to run perfectly well.’
‘Excellent, then you will be in charge of making sure my movement around the planet is uninhibited.’
Arnald seemed at a loss for words. ‘Of course, Defiant.’
What was it that Marshal wanted? To cement the loyalty of the Defiant through giving them jobs? James understood that clearly. The greatest loss that the Zonians had had to face was not only the loss of their planet but the loss of meaning. James had to give them a purpose.
‘It’s time to go, James. Should I pick out a few extra guards?’ Marshal asked. His family was now in the make-shift house behind him.
‘No. I’ll choose them. I owe them that much.’
James had failed his people once by not taking his leadership seriously. He would not do it again.
“Gwok, the Exanoid epitome of business sociopathy, went too far when he segregated the Grays of Glotos III. The previously feeble beings had been complacent in the beginning, doing their work as if their due, but when Gwok overstepped his authority, the people burnt him and his empire alive.” – Quok, Grag-Tec official and Glotos III historian
Chapter 21. Old Empire
The shuttle trip was uneventful, as trips on Nova Zarxa tended to be. There were no rolling hills, rivers and grasslands to break up the monotony. Zarxa was a frozen rock. Nothing more. The realisation that this is what would become of Zona Nox stung James.
Back at Underbelly Alpha, named after the district in Titan City, James had elected a group of eager Zonians to accompany him. Some knew him but others did not. Those that did know him remembered him as the Shadow of Galis and Billy’s boy. They now knew him as Defiant. James felt a tinge of regret. These faces he knew, but expressions he did not. Galisians did not worship and bow. They were scumbags, thieves and fighters. James loved Galis for that. This new Zonian identity made them more servants than free men.
Despite this, James went on.
It was night on the side of the planet where Grag-Tec was now hiding. The streaks of crystals along the surface illuminated their path. James was still drawn by the unearthly glow but it no longer made him weak. He felt his power growing.
They were fast approaching one of the few oddities on Nova Zarxa – a gargantuan lone mountain. James did not know its name. As they drew closer, they flew towards an entrance nestled in the crags of the mountain.
‘This is where many of the Grag-Tec workers had to escape after Dedelux’s sanctions,’ Marshal explained. ‘A vast community has formed within this hollowed rock.’
James only truly understood what Marshal had meant upon entering. The caverns of the mountain were alive with rainbows of paper lanterns, artwork and brightly coloured houses. Compared to the icy, metallic architecture of Nexus, this world was a dream. Grays of almost identical features walked between their festive shacks garbed with a variety of vibrant cloths and silks. James had never seen anything so joyful. The colours were warm, with red and orange dominating the decorations. It wasn’t a bloody red, however, like the Trooper colours, but an invigorating scarlet.
There to meet them at the loading bay were the welcome faces of Molok and Quok. James had not expected them to come to harm, but was relieved to see them nonetheless.
‘Captain James, it is great to see you,’ Quok greeted, his pig snout bearing a grin.
‘Captain no longer. Dedelux court-marshalled me.’
Quok chuckled. ‘He’s no Trooper leader and has no authority to fire you, much less arrest you!’
‘Regardless,’ James shook his head, ‘he still holds the rank and therefore I am no longer a Trooper.’
‘On the contrary, his rank no longer holds. I have received information from Grag-Tec intelligence that Dedelux has been taking bribes from the Zerian Corporation, a known associate of the Imperial Council, if Aegis reports are to be believed. It is Trooper law that any official found guilty of corruption be removed of all authority. This is one such case. When High Command hears about this from my superiors and, probably Aegis, Dedelux’s decisions will all be reverted.’
‘I’m glad to hear that, but my responsibilities have grown much larger than the black-red banner. You must have heard how the Zonians see me now…It would not do for a Trooper Captain to be in the position I am in.’
‘The Trooper Order has resources far beyond that of many corporations and even that of the Exanoid Federation,’ Quok replied. ‘Captain or not, connections with it can only be for the better. It does not have to mean choosing between the Strike Leader James or the Defiant. We’re at war, James, and we don’t need merely an idol. We need a war leader. Keep the credentials. Be the Captain and the Defiant.’
James smiled. ‘I’m glad to see you in better spirits – without spirits, that is. I missed Quok the philosopher.’
Quok laughed. ‘Yes, and I definitely feel better. The repression isn’t so great here. There’s a sense of urgency, danger, importance. It feels like Zona Nox. It gets the brain thinking. It demands thoughtfulness.’
‘Then let us act on that urgency. To business! Is the news about Dedelux the reason you called for me?’
Quok looked slightly quizzical. ‘The Great Exchange, no! Dedelux’s villainy is self-evident. We called you for a greater reason.’
He indicated for Molok to speak.
‘Defiant, my people have heard abou
t you and would very much like to meet you.’
James was taken aback by Molok’s words, especially as the eccentric alien turned around and began walking. James’ retinue followed.
Excited shouting stopped them as a large brute of a man burst through the fabric doors of a shack.
‘James! James! By the Great Exchange, is that you?’
Two of James’ guards stepped in the way but James quickly indicated for them to stand down. The attack, which he accepted, was crushing.
Ryan Rebeck took him in a vise grip and squeezed him with the power of an adult Mozar. James’ relief to see his friend was almost equal to the relief he felt after the squeezing ended.
‘Ryan, you don’t realise how glad I am to see you!’
‘You glad? When I heard that you’d been sent to the slammer, Molok almost failed to stop me from trying to break Dedelux’s neck. I heard you got out, but not much else. Grag-Tec has been working me as hard as Sylith plate mail.’
‘You regret becoming an Ines?’
‘Not at all,’ Ryan waved away the comment. ‘We’ve moved on from the basics. I’m now onto applied mathematics and macroeconomics. The world is an amazing place with numbers by your side!’
‘Well, it takes all types,’ James shrugged. He had never had a penchant for mathematics.
They both turned as they heard Molok clear his throat.
‘If we can continue…’
They both apologised and followed the Gray.
Ryan whispered, ‘I’m still scared of him. Even more now that he talks.’
James didn’t blame him. Molok wasn’t a usual Gray, like from the stories. He wasn’t feeble. He was a warrior in spirit and body.
Molok halted at a large double door crafted of rock but swung on hover-aided hinges. The doors were currently closed and Molok turned around as they all stopped.
James’ retinue was uneasy but James knew that was purely the natural level of xenophobia that they had always possessed. Being close to the Grag-Tec workers would fix that, eventually.
Rise of the Defiant: Book Two of the Warpmancer Series Page 14