by K A Carter
“I call for a mobilization. An arms build that will rectify the dangers that lie ahead.” Odessa continued, his speech marking a turning point. Nario looked towards Rhion sitting further ahead of him. He turned back at him in the same instance. An exchange that told both of a conversation they would have to have in the future.
Clutter had developed inside Nario’s office. The interface he’d been using chimed as he walked in. It was apparent that Thoram was intent on making sure Nario would know he wouldn’t go long ignoring him.
“Answer,” Nario said, with a voice command. A full body hologram of Thoram popped up in the middle of the room. His cagy posture recognizable although not there in person.
“What will be of the Federation?” he said, the words coming out rather quickly despite the translation.
“Well, hey to you too ya lanky bastard.” Nario leaned against his desk, a stack of thin data tablets slowly edging off of it.
“You have not only a duty to your peers, but one to the Lanx, might I remind you.”
Nario waved at him lazily, “I got that.” Then let out a deep sigh that had been waiting to come out since he’d left the office for the summit. “You’ll be happy to know there’s been a mobilization of arms.”
“And?”
“And by orders of Chancellor Erusha, a portion of the Federal fleet will be directed to the Lanx system.”
“As it should.”
“Have you heard anything new?” Nario said calmly.
“Yes, that was the other reason I called.” The image of Thoram slowly ambled toward Nario. “We have received more information about the culprits of the attack.”
Nario could see the urgency present itself in Thoram’s posture, even though the image was grainy and imperfect. He focused on him finally, he had been looking elsewhere before.
“A group I had once thought extinct, has returned. A dangerous individual leads them… and he knows only war and destruction.”
“You’ve met him before?” Nario asked, folding his arms together and hunching them up toward his chest.
“I’ve fought him before, back when his species was ambitious enough to infringe on our civilizations. Before we became the Lanx. In fact, it is his very presence that pushed us to form the coalition.”
“And now he is back,”
Thoram nodded. “Yes, and there is only one way that is possible.”
Nario found himself intrigued, not in a joyful way. In a worrisome way. “How?”
“Ancient technology. Very old and very corrupting.”
Nario sort of pondered and looked back at Thoram. There was more to hear. More to know.
“Swarran took ten ships into the Rhoda Traverse, which was the last area we had received transmissions from scouts. He managed to get a message to us. that those behind the attacks were - “, he paused. “Draul. They had been terrorizing nearby systems and possibly those further out. Thalus, is their leader. A Draul brought back from the dead.”
Nario swung his eyes in their sockets, processing the information as he so often did. “Thalus,” Nario said. The name was unfamiliar to him, but by the look of it, just saying the name made Thoram uneasy. He thought he’d never see him uneasy.
“It is vital that you prepare. If he is indeed nearby, then only war awaits.” Thoram motioned to end the call. “One more thing Ambassador. Swarran and the ten ships are now missing. We assume the worse has happened.”
∆∆∆
Nario took a speeder out of the base station in Cydonia. “Take me to Olympus,” he said to the driver. “The Alguin District.”
He had needed a moment to himself. The only way he knew to do so at home, was to visit his favorite places. Here on Mars that meant riding to a botanical garden at the northeast base of Olympus Mons. It was a popular destination, but he was a government official. He had access to closed off areas that usually would never be seen by a tourist. If he so wished it.
It was soothing. A small waterfall that had been carefully carved into thick Martian rock. The fountain at the base of it rippled gently from a marble carving of a West African Rhino; the Mars planetary animal.
He strolled around it, looking at each interesting plant that surrounded the fountain. It had been somewhere between one and two years since he had visited the site. It wasn’t very spacious and only left room for two people to walk a through aside each other.
Nario stopped at a balcony ridge. It overlooked a larger section of the garden, and the horizon of the city of Maika could be seen not too far in the distance. The capitol of Mars, and arguably, the capitol of the federation. Officials in Geneva, Haven on Venus, and Orion on Mercury would likely disagree.
A much-needed break away from the chaos that was politics was interrupted by another call. Nario’s hand terminal began to vibrate. The display was a mediocre resolution of Rhion. Dismay hung off his lips and chin.
“Lobin here,” said Nario, knowing he was already speaking to a good friend.
“Where the hell are you D.L?” Rhion responded.
“Thinking. Don’t get much time for it back at the office.”
“Amen to that.” The background changed behind Rhion, he was outside of the congregate hall. “I know you need your time, but Garrell just initiated the first part of the mobilization.”
“I figured he would. Is that all?”
“Alpha through Delta Fleets are the first to go.”
The words came clear but Nario paused as though he was waiting for him to say something else.
“Corrinne is in Beta squadron.” He paused for a few seconds, maybe more. “She’s being shipped out D.L. Right into the lion’s den.”
Nario hid his true feelings behind a poker face. “Okay,” he said, trying his best not to seem too somber about it. “Okay.”
Nario ended the call. A lump formed itself at the bottom of his throat, but he couldn’t bring himself to swallow it. For an instance he felt a sense of fear. A fear of losing someone he hadn’t said how he felt too enough.
It would seem too suspicious to try to pull strings in order to get her reassigned. It was a thought he wrestled with though. Cooler heads prevailed on the way back. Nario didn’t head back to the office right away.
Residential areas scattered in between lush greenery and other non-denominated government buildings. Most of the condos there were for military personnel and their families. There was a chance that Corrinne hadn’t left yet. Not unless it was early ship-out and Corrinne, and Captains were ordering all personnel to thier stations in less than a day before the order for mobilization had even been given.
Her home sat on at least a dozen others. All of them intricately woven to blend in with the surrounding vegetation and other condos. It was aesthetically pleasing but left no room on the interior. A family of four would find themselves squeezed to the edges of each room. It was predetermined to be that way. To make way for the inevitable expansion of both population and infrastructure. A byproduct of slow government funding.
Much of the outer planet colonies had surpassed the cities on Mars due to the outpour of corporate grazing that took place in the Great Expanse. Places like Titan, Miranda, Europa, and dozens of other moons underwent immense terraforming. To the point that they all function interconnected. Seamless. Similar to their inner planetary counterparts. The two distinct coalitions divided just on the asteroid belt line in between Mars and Jupiter; with a little encroachment from the federation within the Jovian system. After long stagnation in the annexation of outer planets into the cooperative planets, it took a trade agreement to persuade the corporations to join in on establishing The Brink. Two separate entities, with two completely different agendas.
The speeder stopped at the base of a group of condos. Corrinne’s was the second one from the right, third to the top. There were at least ten in one single space.
Stood by the door, a panel to his left side prompted a call into the condo. There was no answer the first two times he tried. It didn’t ring long.
Nario tried two more times in an act of desperation, He hung his head over his shoulder.
“Jesus, I think you can get the mess- “Out of the door at the end of the terrace hall, was another marine. A muscular brute of a man who wasn’t dignified enough to wear a shirt in the ninety-degree weather. “Oh shit. I mean. Uh, Ambassador Dios-Lobin. What an honor to have you visi-“
“Can it marine,” Nario said, cutting him off. He noticed the slouchy salute and half ass military attentive posture the marine mustered. It wasn’t his concern. Corrinne was. “Where is gunnery sergeant Corrinne Borelli?” He did well to hide the emotion in his voice. One fluctuation could give off the difference from professionalism to personal interest.
“Uhh to post I think,” the marine said.
“Can you be more specific?”
“I don’t know sir, she doesn’t spend much time with our wing. Always on assignment.”
Nario ruled it a failed attempt to get any information. “I have to get into her room private,”
“Well you have to get the help tech for that,”
A long pause and a grim stare was all it took.
“I’ll call them up right now,” the marine rushed inside his condo, a fumbling of appliances could be heard from the part of the hall Nario had been standing in.
“You do that.”
The inside was rather neat, as though the commons maid attendants had just left from cleaning. An artesian painting hung on the congruent wall. One of an old American Park Reserve. It was Yellowstone. The kitchen was a bright white and matched the interior living space. A larger display mounted on the wall ahead. Nothing seemed out of place.
A stack of old fashion books was shoved into a mini book case that appeared hand crafted by the touch of it. A slap of white paint unfinished on its coating. She had mentioned how she loved collecting old era books. The ones that dust could collect on and had pages that grew old with her.
A bottle of meds perched itself in Nario’s vision. The dining table had nothing on it but place mats and a prescription.
Nario picked it up, focusing in on its purpose and the doctor who prescribed it.
Dr. M Allenborn. Twenty tablets of Acetazolamide. Two per day.
Chapter 23: S’tiri
The explosion could be felt in a wave that vibrated through the void. It triggered mass hysteria on the com links in between each station. A slew of fighters could be seen launching from a nearby dock in a scramble formation. The Irinan U’naan was quick in response.
“What now?” Garrek said.
“Back to the ship,” S’tiri responded, he quickly moved toward the exit.
The Cas La’ule had been placed in a specific place; one that the interface on S’tiri arm band could direct them to while it was cloaked. It was untouched and thoroughly hidden. The fighters that scrambled had no clue what they were looking for.
An observation window unveiled itself. The training room doubled as S’tiri’s avenue to watch his creation. A dark beginning.
“It is done,” S’tiri said. The window was shadowed by a floating visual of a thick-faced Draul. It wasn’t Thalus.
The thick-faced one nodded. “Thalus will be pleased to hear it,” he responded. There were no farewells among the dark-minded fanatics. The display receded without a touch or command, ending the call.
The deed had been done. S’tiri retreated back to his domain. A mixture of meditation and seeking his next plans. He hadn’t spoken to Thalus. He hadn’t been given any information on his next plans after his act of destruction against his own people.
One thing was certain, invasion was in the near future. The only next step would be the domination of Mulaya. S’tiri’s overall purpose couldn’t result in being a continuous thorn in the foot of the A’tai. It had to be something more than that. He asked himself a specific question over and over again. Where? As quick as the thought popped into his brain, he came up with the answer.
“So that’s it then?” Garrek asked, as he slouched broad shoulders and bit into a piece of green fruit he had picked up from one of the grizzly markets that dotted Seheron’s deep cities.
S’tiri relished in a successful attempt at crippling an otherwise strong defense. He chose not to acknowledge Garrek; the one out of the mercenaries he didn’t like. Something about the Mejari felt off to S’tiri. For all he knew it could’ve been the Draul in him now making him feel that way. Garrek was a good hired gun though, so he entertained the thought of keeping him around despite.
“Illa,” S’tiri said through the intercom. “Bring the ship out to thirty clicks further. I expect an arrival very soon.”
It only took a day wait. Ships could be seen in the distance from where the Cas La’ule was perched, remaining hidden in its cloaking device. An arrival had been expected.
S’tiri sat in his domain watching feeds of an ongoing bombardment. One for which he felt nothing about. The feeds displayed three massive ships, two of them stagnate while the other lined itself further away. One by one the other defense stations exploded. Those were just the ones that could be seen. There had to be more on the other side of Mulaya. It went on for minutes more. The theatrics of it suddenly disinteresting to S’tiri.
“Illa,” he said, keeping his eyes on the onslaught. “Plot a course for these coordinates.” The numbers showed up on one of the monitors, the screen next to it was a feed of what could be seen in the cockpit. It quickly plotted and went into warp. It was back to the armada. That which the sight of, could drive any being mad. The sheer numbers were still mind boggling, even to S’tiri as he was; not as he was before.
From afar it all looked like added stars in the ardent dark of the veil. The verge of Draul space was gaseous. Closer brought the detail of each ship. Illa had angled the ship for a routine dock. One of them that looked like a space station. A dry dot of a planet hung under the armada. As baron as it looked it bared cracks which foreshadowed seismic activity.
S’tiri took to the airlock doors, “Garrek join me. The rest of you stay here.”
Doors opened to clear space. Dark clear space; only lit by the gentle bronze lights in the halls and sashes of unknown origins that hung under each; all baring different symbols than the next. S’tiri had pulled the wide hood over his head, hanging it just above his eyes. Garrek trailed behind him. No guns were allowed in sacred places, and S’tiri was pushing the rules having a merc accompany him.
There he was once again, this time joined by the other odd looking ones he had seen prior to his assault on Mulaya. Thalus in all his self-proclaimed glory. Hortogon beside him.
“It is done,” S’tiri said. He stopped at the foot of elevated part of the floor.
“Yes, we know.” Thalus smiled sinisterly. “We have already begun the next steps. Mulaya, and all of its precious secres will soon be at our disposal.”
“hmph,” S’tiri meant to be silent.
“Are you aware of your own Irinan history, S’tiri?”
“I don’t proclaim to be a historian.”
“Your elder,” Thalus started. “The supposed keepers of ancient peace are no more than thieves and traitors. It is why Mulaya must be of the first to be cleansed.”
“Of course,” S’tiri said, clasping his hands together underneath the robe.
“Please join us,” Thalus raised a hand toward the terrace that opened up. Something clicked in him. S’tiri caught sight of whom was there. Elassi. More specifically, Sur’ak Roh herself. The tyrant of tyrants. She was unmistakable. That part of S’tiri’s memories still rang thorough. Or it could be that he was obtaining that which had been stricken from him. He felt it to be the latter. Hortogon joined her at the console. It was a flat surface nearly as wide as the room. A fixed point on it had an opening where digital representations could be displayed. Nothing big, but large enough to be seen by each. S’tiri watched as Sur’ak ran through some sort of battle plan. Thalus stood attentive. His back conspicuously turned to S’tiri.
“If you reinforce our ef
forts toward the Moranthian border – “Sur’ak started.
“Moranthian territory will not be invaded yet. Not while our efforts are focused in protecting the Sommoner.”
“Then what of the fleets I have left?”
“We must know focus on getting the Summoner fully operational. In the meantime, we must gather recources.”
“Now that we have Mulaya, we harness what’s left of the element M,” Hortogon interjected.
“Is it so important?” Sur’ak said, gripping the edges of the terminal harshly.
“It is,” Thalus responded. “Or have you forgotten why we have chosen you.”
As S’tiri listened, he felt a sort of blankness. A shroud over his thoughts with small pockets of light. There; in the light was something familiar. Slowly enlarging. It felt as though it slowly was all coming back to S’tiri. Not just his memories but his own thoughts, opinions. As true S’tiri took surface, he tried to hide it while in the presence of his enemies. It had all come back. A sense of relief clouded over S’tiri. Then all he could feel was immense anger. It took thirty minutes into the meeting of minds before S’tiri had realized he was treading on dangerous ground. His only fortune being that either hadn’t noticed whether or not he was back to himself. It felt as though. He stood behind them as they exchanged ideas for plans of attack. It was easy enough to shield his true self while cloaked.