“This man is requesting to take pictures,” the first soldier told the officer.
The officer then turned to face him, and that’s when Hosha noticed he was missing an entire arm.
“Are you in the press?” the officer asked him.
Hosha stumbled to pull out his ID, and hand it to the one armed soldier.
“GNN huh?” he asked, giving the ID back after scanning it. “I’ve seen your face before right?”
Hosha nodded. “If you watched any GNN streams, yes.”
“Very well, you’re free to take pictures. Please just don’t get in way. We’re trying to get people out of this storm.”
Hosha didn’t waste any time and started taking pictures of the officer.
“When did you lose the arm?” he asked.
“Yesterday,” the officer said, plainly.
Hosha’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, can you tell me anything about it?”
The officer looked at the soldier at the hatch with a hint of disgust, then pointed towards a pair of empty seats. The two walked over side by side. They looked like an adult walking next to a child. As they sat down, Hosha took out his tablet and started the recorder.
“Alright, let’s start with your name and rank.”
“Ogho 85.d, 30th Pod Commander of the Seventh Legion.”
3127 – Orbit over Secundaria
Coran was only a five hour flight under normal sling speeds, but this time, Fangix was going to have to make that flight in nearly thirty hours. The Dominion always played second fiddle when it came to galactic technology, but here in the heart of the empire, sensor and optic satellites were everywhere. It was impossible, as in any wealthy system, to fly anywhere without being seen, clearly, and from millions of miles away. Fangix had a job to do in Coran before the fleet made their sling, but he had to get there unnoticed.
He had the technology required for a stealth flight, compliments of the Alliance of Free Systems on Alioth. He himself had stolen the blueprints for a top of the line stealth system, years ahead of what even the Solars had. It provided a near invisible signature to the ship via a gravity field that passed through light from all angles, not just from one direction, as most Solar stealth systems used. The only current downside from the system currently installed on his ship was that the power requirements needed to run it were quite taxing on his reactor. It left virtually little power for anything else.
To fly undetected to Coran, he would have to leave the surface and engage the stealth before leaving the atmosphere and run it full blast until he entered Coranian air. Even by rerouting power from all non-vital systems to the stealth field, that left him with very little power to sling. And even if he could, the sling could be detected all the way from Coran. So, he would fly there in the old fashion way. Twice around Secundaria’s orbit would help him build up speed, which he would then increment with tiny gravity bursts, mini-slings, half way to Coran, and do the reverse the other half to slow the ship down. In this fashion, his stealth would remain running one hundred percent, and he could still fly to Coran.
He never enjoyed the fact that his former empire’s best technology was always stolen. For all the grandeur and might of the Dominion, they always lagged behind the Commonwealth and the Alliance. It had always seemed to him that the entirety of Dominion ingenuity was poured into their genetics, their bloodlines. It was an obsession, a religion. It fit, as the only religion in the Dominion was the worship of the Dominar. It was an ancestral blood deity, made incarnate by the current Dominar.
It would all change with her. She could be a goddess, but insisted on being on their same level. She slept with the beggars and sinners, like the prophets of old. Her religion was the worship of life within each human. In that way she was already superior to anything the old Dominion had. But it was more than that. Already, Fangix saw the results of her technological improvements. Advanced computing and programming, newer and more refined forms of energy, a better understanding of physics, and these were just some of what he had seen directly applied to the war machine. The Queen proposed using the Dominion’s advanced genetic background to create new crops and animals, not just for the continuing evolution of mankind.
And that’s why he followed her. His whole life, he thought of himself as evil. His actions and thoughts proved it time and time again. But the Queen had made it clear to him that there was no good and no evil, just actions and results.
She’d found him, nearly dead and starving, on board of his ship. Something had happened to the ship’s computer core, and everything was lost. Without it, he couldn’t navigate, he couldn’t fly. Instead, the ship started jumping randomly, to systems he didn’t know. Even if the charts worked, he wouldn’t have been able to fly out. A simple quirk of fate, a short circuit somewhere, and he was going to die in the middle of space. Until she showed up. No one knew how she knew, but she did. That day, in the shadow of the Harmoa, his salvation had begun.
The computer beeped and Fangix looked down at the readings on his console. The stealth generator was fully engaged and his ship was building up speed.
Everything had to be timed precisely with the fleet’s schedule, for they would make their jump in three days, and if he hadn’t completed his mission, the battle over Coran was going to cost them all dearly. It was a price his Queen was willing to pay for her final conquest, but one that Fangix had convinced her they would avoid.
The old Dominion fleet had been severely decimated in the battle over Secundaria. The surviving fleets jumped back to Coran, where they remained in orbit, along with an ever increasing number of random ships called forth to defend the seat of the empire. The only other old Dominion fleet capable of mounting any kind of defense was stationed in orbit over Aghuela, defending their borders against the Alliance. There were no updates as to the status of that fleet, so for now, they were still there, and soon, it wouldn’t matter, because they wouldn’t be able to reach Coran in time.
Fangix guessed it was a matter of old Dominion arrogance to leave that fleet there. If Coran fell, then so would the ancient empire, so they were either completely inept, or so utterly confident in their defenses that they didn’t think they needed assistance from their last complete fleet. As his ship spun around Secundaria a second time, the Harmoa and the rest of the rebel fleet came into view. Not too long ago, Fangix was a part of that old Dominion, and understood well their arrogance, but it had been easy to see the truth in the Queen’s ways. In the old rule, he was an accident, an outcast befit for only the darkest and dirtiest tasks. Under the Queen, he was an equal, even with her, or so she insisted.
And his mind was clear. The old Dominion indulged his perversions, using them against him. The Queen had cleansed him, and his mind and thoughts were clearer because of it.
He still had a hard time envisioning the new empire under his Queen. There was still a lot of grime and waste she would need to purge. And there was also the planetary defenses that were quite robust.
Coran was one of three known systems to employ surface to orbit defenses. Without the restraints of limited space and zero gravity, these enormous batteries could fire energy blast into orbit, keeping even the largest of fleets at a distance. For her to land her troops on the surface, she would have to blast her way not only through the remaining fleet, but through some sections of the planetary defenses, and the combined firepower of both of those would chew through even her highly advanced fleet. There were no space tactics against bolts of energy fired from the surface of the planet. You had to go through them.
The advantage of being part of the underworld of Coran was that Fangix knew about each and every one of the planetary batteries. He also knew exactly how to disable three of the major locations in the northern hemisphere with a few key hacks. The Dominion was big on centralization, and unfortunately, even their wartime networks were centralized. Never in their wildest nightmares had the military advisor command thought that war would ever come to Coran in such a way. What made matters worse, or
better, was that in their arrogance, they had yet to shore up their internal defenses.
Fangix laughed. It had been quite some time since he had been to the holy seat. For all the undercity knew he was long dead, lost after the mission to find out about the existence of the daughter of Arguntai. So many others had died trying to kill or abduct her, so the story was easily fed back through the channels. His property and what little wealth he had accumulated over the years was already gone, confiscated by security forces for other matters of imperial security. He had checked, and it was all gone. But in their haste to secure his wealth, they forgot to close his access in the undercity.
Too easy.
The computer beeped a second time. This time it was a laser link to the Harmoa. It was a series of files he had requested from the rebel command, but there was a message from her as well, wishing him luck. He transferred the files to his mainframe just as he broke orbit. From that point on, he would be running silent. He could still try to laser link, but there was no reason to. As with everything else, he would be solo, and that was how it worked best.
Now he had a long flight ahead of him; nothing new. In the past, he would have given in to overloading his senses with his perversion, but now, he had an alternative. After the Queen had done the work on his brain, she had also taught him several meditation routines that helped clear the mind. He double checked that the miniscule slings had begun to fire and then retired back to the rear of the ship. After eating a simple meal, he dimmed the lights and sat down on the floor. He wouldn’t eat again until right before landing; he preferred fasting.
He closed his eyes and began to do as he had learned. A large wall appeared before him, and he began to disassemble the wall, brick by brick, and move each block to another spot and build a house. He could feel his heart slowing down, and his breathing slowed to a crawl. As every brick moved into its place, Fangix lost himself more and more, and time stopped. As it happened every time, when the alarm snapped him out of that state, he stood up surprised and a bit perplexed.
He ate with delight as he was famished. The food always tasted far better after a meditation session. Never before in his life had food ever tasted that good. As he swallowed the last bit, he brought up the console. Coran was already large in his window, majestic and grand as always. If Earth was always thought of as man’s paradise, Coran was man’s refuge. Fangix had read once how the first colonists had reacted when they came upon Coran just as was now. He imagined them in tears as they proclaimed:
“O bright light amidst the darkness,
Come we upon this refuge,
Free and alive from the passage,
And safe upon your shores,
Oh Coran, grant us your peace.”
“Too bad you turned it into a dark shithole,” he said out loud.
As no alarms were blaring in the cabin, Fangix assumed the stealth was working as advertised. Even at this close a range, he was invisible to the naked eye, and virtually vanished from most other forms of detection. He pulled up the navigation console panel and brought up the select locations he would be able to land on. He tapped into the planet’s public nav-sats using an old login and brought up current satellite images along with weather reports. Fangix would have expected these all shut down, but here they were still open for use.
Toggling through some files, he found the transponder he could still use on Coran, and deftly switched it on as he entered the atmosphere, turning off the stealth as he burned his way through the clouds. When any ground controllers saw that transponder, of a nondescript merchant vessel, they wouldn’t even bother to point their optics at his ship. By the time any suspicion arose, he would have landed.
Coran, the planet, was similar to Secundaria in that it was a land planet. The vast majority of its water was locked in aquifers under the surface, while lakes and rivers, and one small ocean, plied the surface with water. All told, the surface was only twenty percent water. Vast mountain ranges carved their way around the surface, cutting wedges through various geographical landscapes. Being closer to the sun than Secundaria, the seat of the Dominion enjoyed a warmer climate, with only the poles gently touched by ice and snow. The majority of the world was heavily forested. At one point, its lands had been cleared for farming, but Secundaria functioned as a food world far better than the hot Coran. A vibrantly green jungle ran like a belt around the planet’s equator, and only a few deserts dotted the land with its tan. The large mountain ranges created corridors for wind and storms that spun around the world, although these storms were rarely fierce, without large oceans to fuel their rage.
The planet was home to three billion people of the Dominion, with several hundred metropolis connected via land tubes and sub orbital flights. Millions of other smaller cities intertwined the surface of the planet like a web. Air traffic was busy in every corner of Coran, and Fangix blended into the local traffic quickly enough, landing in a small space port in the city of Yat, in the northern hemisphere, about three hundred miles south of the holy seat and throne of the Dominar.
He wouldn’t be going there though. After docking, he changed his transponder again, after a significant bribe to the port authorities, whom he knew well. The bribe was actually a cover, should his friend get into any trouble. Bribery was, after all, the Dominion way.
While at first surprised, Fangix found many on Coran that were open to the Queen’s rebellion. The corruption of the families ran deep, even on the home world of the bloodlines. In the Dominion, if you didn’t have the blood, you had nothing. The Queen’s words were powerful to such as the portmaster and his family. The Dominar and his nobles might have disillusioned dreams of the whole of Coran rising up to expel the invaders, but they might be surprised if they find themselves surrounded instead.
Using his still open darknet logins, Fangix requisitioned a rental vehicle and set out from the space station. Yat was a small city, possibly twenty or thirty thousand people, with a strong manufacturing base. Several large factories dotted the outskirts of the city as he drove past them. He got on the limited access highway and sped off to the southeast. Traffic was as normal as it could be despite what was about to reach their doorsteps. Just one system away, the Queen had brought a planet to a standstill, and yet the people of Coran continued on without a mere thought. As he drove along, he opened several radio stations to listen to the news, but heard not a single mention of the invasion fleet or the defeat on Secundaria. Instead, music, noble politics and talk shows filled the airs.
“It’s no wonder they’re losing,” Fangix thought.
After activating yet another ID, Fangix stopped for the night at a small inn, near the foothills of the Arangatera Mountains. He ate a hearty meal and rested for the night, while hacking into several military networks to try to gauge the level of security, and to see if there were any mentions of him. Without digging too deep, there were no mentions of blockade runners or spies in the darknet. Fangix knew better, he was part of that world of spies. He was good, he knew that, but there were too many eyes in the dark. That he had slipped past completely unnoticed was unlikely, it was just a matter of time. Thankfully, he didn’t need much time.
The next morning, he met with two more associates, men with similar tales of hatred against the corruption as the portmaster of Yat. One was a manager of mineral mine up in the mountains, while the other worked as a truck driver for a large logging company that also did work in the mountains. They rode with the truck driver, first along a large highway, and then along smaller mountain roads, up into the tree covered peaks. The levels of oxygen on Coran were higher than on Earth, so the tree level on the mountains was significantly higher. Mountains that were covered with snow on Earth, instead held the roots of hundred feet high green giants. They drove for a better part of the day, and for the most part, Fangix didn’t talk, but the two men sure did, and they did speak of the incoming fleet. The planet was scared. On one side was the Dominar and his army of super men, and on the other side was an unknown Queen
who seemed to be winning every single battle she fought. The Dominion propaganda machine was on full force, downplaying the defeats and telling some inventive lies about the Queen. The one Fangix enjoyed the most was that Magyo was harvesting humans on the planets she conquered, and that’s why no one was fleeing from those systems.
But there were limited bits of news coming through the media blockade. The words freedom and equality were prevalent, and for that reason the two men were excited.
“Have you met her?” they asked him.
“I have, several times,” he replied.
“There aren’t any pictures of her, except for in her battlesuit, although there’s rumors that Solar press has images of her on Secundaria. Is it true what they say about her? Is she truly a goddess?”
“It is all true, except she would have you believe she is just like you or me,” Fangix replied.
He watched as the two men wondered in awe, and then added, “But she isn’t. She is much more than any one of us.”
Without any hitches or delays, they reached the edge of the logging forest, and Fangix and the mine manager set off on their own. The manager led him to a trailhead and gave him a pack of supplies and a map. The trail would lead to the top of a peak and end there. He thanked him, and walked the eleven mile trail to the top of the peak, reaching it just as the sun was going down. Up at higher altitudes, even the heat of Coran took a break, and on that very clear night, Fangix got a good look at the stars, and then easily picked out the flashes of light that pinpointed the damaged fleet of the old Dominion. Another quick scan of the horizon revealed several other ships, but without optics, he had no way of knowing if they were military or civilian. He also spotted the morning star, or Secundaria. Around that planet his fleet waited for the completion of his mission.
Ghost of an Empire (Sentinel Series Book 3) Page 8