Koban 5: A Federation Forged in Fire

by Stephen W Bennett

  Shaking his head he said, “Telour used the planet buster, as you called it, when the war wasn’t going his way, and he fully intended to use that weapon again, to teach humanity to not fight back so hard. They wanted to slowly exterminate us at their preferred pace. I know his thoughts.”

  “I guess we are supposed to take your unfounded word for that?” She laughed cynically.

  “Perhaps you would believe it firsthand, from Telour.” He mentally alerted Thad and Sarge.

  “I doubt he’ll be so cooperative as to support your lies.”

  “Why don’t we ask him?” He waved his hand at an open area behind the line of Federation representatives.

  A tall gray box abruptly appeared there, as the power chords from Greeves and Reynolds were disconnected from the oversized stealthed case. They had carried it up the steps earlier, walking in the wide spacing between the Torki and rippers.

  Mirikami walked over to the six-foot high container, with a four-foot-by-four-foot square base. He used his foot to snap four catches open at the bottom on each side and stepped back. As if by magic, the entire upper section lifted smoothly from its base. The levitation coming courtesy of the two unseen men in armor, who then set the cover down behind the prisoner.

  There were gasps as legs, torso, and finally a pair of glowing hate filled eyes were uncovered. It took a moment for the realization to sink in that the Krall was tightly secured in what appeared to be a very heavy-duty motorized chair. He was bound at ankles, wrists, elbows, chest, and neck by heavy gleaming alloy bands, two inches wide and an inch thick. In addition, there was a heavy open wired mask fitted over the tooth-filled muzzle, which was bolted to the high metal back of the chair, preventing the warrior from turning its head or thrusting it forward.

  Telour’s eyes were darting around, taking in everything he could see as he built a mental battlefield map, so he could act and move even with his eyes closed, should an opportunity arise. He didn’t expect to escape, but dying covered with enemy blood was acceptable.

  A number of details drew his immediate attention. There were fifteen short-barreled laser and plasma rifles trained on him by non-Kobani humans, both males and females, wearing similar colored clothing that did not seem like human military uniforms. Their bearing and focus on him definitely appeared to reflect military training, but their scent, the way they moved, and tension in their stance proved these were ordinary humans, because a Kobani always seemed calm and relaxed. They had moved to surround and protect a frightened looking human, a female from her scent, who had tightly bound head threads. Hair, as humans called the useless decorative growths. He surmised this was the human leader, whom he’d been able to hear, and he wasn’t impressed.

  Of course, he’d been able to scent the cursed odor of Mirikami all along, as well as that of three former slave races. The smell of two Raspani nearly made his mouth water. He was disgusted beyond measure with the nutrient gruel they had piped directly into his two stomachs since his capture. The sharp scent of the rippers surprised him, since they were outside the ship, and he’d not expected them to be present among Earth humans.

  The container, in which they had placed him and his imprisoning wheeled device just before he left the ship, circulated external air for him. The box also wasn’t sound proofed, and he’d been able to hear much of what was said outside. His efforts to snarl, to utter a scream, or even to speak, to try to disrupt the humans around him in any way, had all been thwarted. At first, his disability was due to the effects of the drug that had been given to him. The drip tube with nutrients that also delivered the drug had been removed, long enough ago that full feeling had returned to his limbs. He was certain he could now stand and fight if not held so tightly.

  When he’d attempted to make any sounds as he was being carried in the box, electrodes embedded in his throat, attached to nerves in his vocal chords had sent paralyzing shocks into the muscles there. He could make heavy breathing sounds, but a small computer in the wheeled chair prevented him from making audible sounds. The shocks were painful, but for the satisfaction of disturbing the humans and insulting them, the pain would have been endured. Unfortunately, the electrical shocks sent the muscles for speech into knotted paralysis for long seconds after each attempt.

  He could squirm in his seat a bit, flex his fingers and toes and extend his talons, such as they were. The latter felt shameful because they had trimmed them to blunt nubs. When he’d grasped at the humans and pushed out the rounded ends of his finger talons, before being placed inside the box, they had snorted loudly and derisively in Krall humor. He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction now. He knew he was surrounded by normal humans. Perhaps a careless one would be stupid enough to come too close.

  He could easily crush an ordinary human’s hand and pinch it completely off if they came close enough for him to get a grip. A Kobani’s hard bones would barely flex, and they might squeeze back and break his fingers or a hand in retaliation. The broken bones in both his arms had taken days to heal strong enough to move them without pain. The bones were now adequately self-repaired, and he hoped he’d find a chance to demonstrate that.

  Mirikami removed any doubts for the observers as to which Krall this was. “Madam President, Gentle Ladies and Men of Earth, and the News media, I present to you, Tor Gatrol Telour, the war leader of all the Krall clans.” He used his Comtap to send the radio command to the simple AI that controlled the chair, to disable the vocal suppression system. Telour wouldn’t even know it was deactivated until he tried to speak.

  Mirikami saw the wide-eyed expression on Medford’s face, and recognized her sudden concern. She feared that her indirect dealings with the Krall war leader would be revealed. She wasn’t sorry she’d offered to trade Mirikami’s people in exchange for Telour withholding use of the planet buster again. Far from it. Although, her actions to sacrifice them and their families to the Krall could be seen as justification for the Kobani again attacking K1.

  Secretly dealing with the Krall and offering human lives in trade to an enemy that accepted no truces, and showed no mercy, wouldn’t present her in a favorable light or as a strong leader, regardless of her motives.

  In a pretense of good manners, Mirikami grasped the back of Telour’s left hand, and introduced Medford to him. “Tor Gatrol Telour, leader of all the Krall, I present to you President Erthrid Medford, the leader of the Planetary Union.”

  In a fast mental exchange, he said directly to Telour’s mind, “After I give you to her, my public dispute with her will end, and I will have my status restored.” He knew the concept of earning status would resonate with the Krall.

  “Your quiet execution by her will be even less honorable than the death of a disgraced berserker warrior. The false and disgraceful agreement she thought she had made with you will remain her secret. Speak the truth here and I will grant you a Death Challenge. Your voice is restored.”

  Telour’s hate-filled eyes remained locked on Mirikami when the human backed several steps away. He tested his voice. It sounded much like a snarl as he started speaking, but his Standard was understandable. “Human clan leader Medford, a Krall war leader is not bound by honor to keep an agreement with a weak prey animal such as you. If the death ship below and behind you had obeyed my commands, your home world, and all of these animals standing on it would today be dead meat floating among the molten lumps of this planet, as they orbited your star. I only agreed to speak of this because Mirikami has offered me an honorable death by combat with him. I don't care what stupid, stinking animals like you think, or want to know.”

  There were gasps from some in the crowd. He wasn’t finished.

  “For holding the position of clan leader of Human Space, you had poor knowledge of the Kobani, the best and most effective fighters you had. In your cowardly weakness, you were ready to trade them for the safety of your worlds, which I would never give you. When you told me the name they used was Kobani, and said they lived outside of Human Space, you suggested
it was a form of the name taken from their home world. I remembered that this name sounds like the low Krall words for a training place. You were right. The Kobani name is taken from a world that our first human prisoners called Koban.

  “We should have killed them when we left them to die there, more than a breeding cycle ago. I knew them, and I knew this small human. I gave Mirikami that mark on his chest, and gave him the title Worthy Enemy. He and his people convinced our clan leaders that humans were capable of fighting, and that we should not kill all of you swiftly. We were wrong.”

  Eyes and cameras focused briefly on the black oval at the base of Mirikami’s neck, still exposed by the open flap of his tunic.

  “He has proven more worthy than I thought was possible for an animal. I should have killed him then. It is not too late. Mirikami, I offer you a Death Challenge.” Now he’d learn if the little human also had honor.

  Mirikami had kept his eyes locked with Telour’s as he spoke. He nodded his satisfaction. “I accept your challenge, and I chose hand to hand fighting, at this place and this time. I must explain to the watchers what will take place. Otherwise, the President’s guards might shoot you before the challenge begins.”

  Before he could speak to the crowd, Medford yelled a series of denials. “I made no such agreement. That must be an imposter claiming to be Telour. He’s lying. Mirikami made him say that.”

  Telour’s eyes flared at her, the pits glowing red in the light of the cameras. “Clan leader Medford, if it would not dishonor me to fight an animal with so little honor, I would challenge you next, after I kill this one. I know I will not leave this place alive, but I will die as a warrior, after I kill Mirikami and your warriors shoot me, or if he kills me.”

  “That sure as hell isn’t going to happen,” she shouted back. “This is the heart of the Planetary Union. We are too civilized for duels.”

  Mirikami smiled at her words. “Lucky for Telour’s wishes today, and for the human race, as a Kobani I have more than a trace of ripper blood in me. I’m not nearly as civilized as you seem to think. Would the Federation representatives please move to the sides to make room?” Maggi moved with them and looked concerned, even though she had Comtapped with him about what was required.

  Agent Ferguson spoke for the first time. “Sir, I’m Agent Ferguson. Are you proposing to release that Krall and fight him here in front of the Capitol? I can’t permit that. That would place the president in jeopardy.”

  Mirikami tried to reassure him. “I can understand your concern, but she is in absolutely no danger. Even if Telour defeated me in unarmed combat, which he will not do, he’s under no illusion that he can successfully attack the president, or escape. The other Kobani with me will not permit that to happen, and he is aware they are present.”

  Ferguson looked at the shorter than average young looking man. He had a muscular build, but frankly, he thought any of his agents could take him down with one hand in their pockets. He glanced at the Krall, easily three times the mass of Mirikami. Then he looked at Maggi, even shorter than her husband, and more slightly built. They were the only two Kobani that he could see, and they hardly seemed imposing.

  Watching the agent’s eyes, the cause for his concern was easily deduced. There was only one way to reassure him that the Telour couldn’t threaten the president, but that proof would scarcely diminish the agent’s worries. Mirikami saw no alternative.

  “Special Agent, I ask that you and your detail to not overreact to what you are about to see. Our representatives did not walk up here from our ship entirely alone. We have protective escorts.”

  He spoke softly, which came from the disembodied speakers, as Comtap passed his instructions to the minds of everyone in armor. “People, let’s prove the President has adequate protection from that Krall. Stealth off please.”

  One thousand white and black armored figures winked into view, spread all around the end of the Mall, up on the portico, hanging from light poles, standing on walls, and statutes, and they effectively surrounded the Galactic Federation representatives, including Mirikami and Telour. The reason the pushy reporters had been so easily held at bay was instantly apparent.

  The warning from Mirikami, and their extensive training, kept any of the security detail from committing a foolish knee jerk reaction, thus risking a firefight, which they instantly saw they could never win. They had been vastly outnumbered from the start. Had the Kobani intended harm to the president, it could have been accomplished long ago.

  That instant recognition didn’t occur to the onlookers, so it didn’t keep some members of the public from uttering a few screams and shouts. When Mirikami spoke to calm them, the distributed sources for his voice became apparent. Suit speakers on those armored figures positioned above them is where the sound had been issuing. There were some laughs now, and the army vets offered those around them more than a few I told you so comments.

  Even Telour hadn’t suspected here were so many. He knew he’d been carried, but thought there were only two or three present. His Worthy Enemy left little to chance.

  “I have accepted Telour’s challenge, and as such I can select the mode of fighting. I chose unarmed combat, to eliminate concerns of a stray bullet, beam, bolt, or thrown knife. Before we fight, I will free him from his restraints, and we will greet one another briefly with a salute, within the circle of these armored Kobani. After that, it is up to us to decide how to attack the other, or to defend ourselves.

  “No one, and I do mean no one, is allowed to intervene until the fight is finished. If I win, Telour will be dead. If he wins, I’ll be dead, and so long as he doesn’t attack anyone else, my people will allow him to stay alive. He’s perfectly aware of where he is, and that the Planetary Union will hold him accountable for ordering Hub worlds destroyed. Either way, he knows he cannot survive this visit to Earth. This challenge to me represents an honorable warrior’s death for him, or a last combat victory against an old enemy he wants dead. I don't think he deserves this honor, but I saw no other way to provide him with a motive to describe the things he had done. We’re a species he considers animals, and we deserve no explanation.”

  “Give us a minute to get the President into the limo,” Ferguson asked.

  “No! I want to watch this.” Medford had heard so much about Kobani ability that she wanted to see the fight. If Mirikami died, or they killed each other, she wouldn’t shed a tear for him. However, she didn’t see any possibility he could win. It occurred to her that he’d elected a brutal form of public suicide rather than to face arrest and prosecution by the PU. That might be his plan, to garner sympathy for his people, and if that was true, she admired his sacrifice. She sure as hell wouldn’t fall on her own sword.

  Mirikami turned to Telour. “When I release you and you stand, the chair and container will be moved away. You will have time to move your arms and legs to remove any stiffness before our salute.”

  “Accepted.”

  Despite his spoken agreement, Telour glanced at the two armored figures inside the ring of figures around him. He was seeking side arms he could grab, but they were carrying nothing like slung rifles or side arms that would be useful. Those other Kobani around him were all two leaps away, and they alternated between facing inwards and out. He’d not be fast enough to reach them before they reacted. He knew firsthand how fast they were, and how effective their armor weaponry was.

  In a Comtap, Sarge said, “Tet, he just checked Thad and me out for eternal weapons, I think. He’s going to grab anything he can for an advantage.”

  “I saw. Frankly, I assumed as much, since that’s been his trademark. He hadn’t wanted to leave us alive on Koban, despite the Joint Council’s agreement to do so. Telour conspired to have his clan mate Kanpardi killed, so he could take over his position as Tor, and he readily admitted today that he never intended to honor the agreement Medford thought she had with him. He has little respect for agreements within his own species, and none with us. He’ll try to die with a f
inal kill, or two.”

  The ring of armored figures was partly blocking the view of observers, and Mirikami informed Ferguson that the suits facing inward would activate stealth again, partly to provide visibility, and partly to provide containment that Telour couldn’t see.

  As soon as those suits vanished, Mirikami sent the chair AI the release signal, and one side of each of the heavy metal straps suddenly released, as did one side of the facemask. Telour lifted his arms, pushed the mask aside and swung the chest and neck restraints out of the way. He tested how securely the stiff metal arcs were attached to the chair. They didn’t display any give, so he couldn’t tear them loose to use as weapons. He stood up and looked back at the motorized chair, seeking any loose parts. It promptly rolled away from him, and the two suited figures grabbed the heavy device and tossed it to figures on the perimeter, followed by the container’s base. Then they retreated to the edge of the improvise arena.

  Mirikami walked to within a half leap, roughly Telour’s body length, and stood with his arms held loosely at his sides. Telour, standing sideways, his opponent to his right, he started flexing his torso at the waist, his arms, neck, and legs, curling and uncurling his fingers and toes. He was pleasantly surprised to note that the talons of his toes had not been trimmed, probably because Krall toes didn’t have the same grasping ability of their fingers. He’d not been able to see his toes while secured in the chair.

  Telour saw that Mirikami expected him to turn and face him for the traditional salute of mutual respect. Therefore, he pretended to stretch his limbs and leaned in the direction away from his foe, placing his left hand on the portico surface. If he got him on the ground or in his grip, there would be no toying with this prey. He was far too fast and strong to risk that, as demonstrated back on the ship when the little human had captured him.

  He’d not given him credit for the speed and strength he displayed that time. With time to think, Telour believed he knew why Mirikami had worn armor in that first confrontation. It was because despite speed, strength, and nearly unbreakable bones, Kobani flesh, and relatively uncontrolled bleeding, were their weak points. He didn’t have that layer of armored protection now.