The Complete Void Wraith Saga

by Chris Fox

  “I did.” Takkar’s tone was mild, but his fur didn’t lighten. Not even a shade. “Tell me, Krekon—if one of your hounds failed you as completely as you have failed me, what would you do?”

  “I would have his packmates devour him while he still lived.” Krekon’s reply came without thought, even though it was possible Takkar would visit the same fate upon him.

  “A fair punishment, I think.” Takkar turned to face him, and Krekon was glad he was already staring at the white metal floor. “Fortunately for you, I have greater problems.”

  “The war does not proceed to your liking, Clan Leader?” Krekon asked, mildly surprised. This new species was weak—too weak to challenge them, certainly. Their first fleet had been destroyed to a man, without inflicting a single casualty. Their second had fared only marginally better.

  “No, it does not,” Takkar thundered. His fur blackened. “On nine worlds—each pulled from the databanks we plundered, each supposedly a colonized world—we have sought to engage them. In every case, the colony was empty. There was no sign of enemy forces. We found nothing. Not a single labor-slave. They are abandoning their worlds. This enemy commander is the most cowardly I have ever faced. I will feast upon his heart. He cannot run forever.”

  Krekon waited in silence, withering under the weight of Takkar’s rage. All he could do was pray to avoid his notice, as one did with the Nameless Ones.

  “What have you found, Krekon? Give me something, or I may lose control.”

  “I possess something that may help, Clan Leader. Something that may ease your ire.” Krekon waved to his Saurians, who laboriously carried a chrome case to the Clan Leader’s feet. They opened it, revealing the fabulous contents.

  “What am I looking at, Krekon?” Takkar asked. His fur had already lightened to a curious blue.

  “They are cores, Clan Leader. cores constructed by these humans.” Krekon trailed off, knowing he’d said enough.

  Takkar’s gaze became calculating, as he worked out the implications, just as Krekon had. “With just a few of these cores we could double our supply of planetstriders. We’d finally be strong enough to conquer the rest of the Imperium.”

  Krekon smiled, satisfied that his discovery had saved his life.

  28

  A Plan

  Nolan appended the last few images to his report, then saved the file to his dat crystal. It, along with the other files, explained their findings here. T’kon’s data on the planetstriders would probably be the most vital, but the data about the Imperium and the Ganog would also be useful. One needed to understand an enemy before one could beat them.

  Most important of all, of course, was the idea that there was a discontented populace eager to overthrow cruel masters. The ka’tok were vital to every part of the Ganog Imperium, but the Ganog appeared to ignore and underestimate their laborers. Their help would be needed in freeing this planet. Even if Nolan didn’t survive long enough to see that happen, what he did here would ensure that Fizgig finish what he started.

  “Mmm, Captain?” Aluki waddled up, seizing his hand with a rubbery glove. “I’ve completed the prototype. Come, see what Annie and I have constructed.” She hummed happily as she tugged him away from the hunk of metal he’d been using as a camp chair.

  Nolan allowed the Whalorian to lead him toward their hastily assembled workbench, where Lena and Annie were staring down at a rusty cube. A bundle of wires extended from the back of the cube, clipped to what he guessed was a portable battery pack.

  “That’s it?” he asked, mildly surprised by the lack of complexity.

  “Mmm, that’s it.” Aluki beamed with pride. “It has enough power for two uses, and has a cargo slot large enough for your dat crystal. Does it meet your requirements?”

  “Yes, yes it does.” Nolan couldn’t help but grin. “Well done, Aluki. This is exactly what we needed. We can finally bring the Coalition up to speed on the Imperium.”

  “Hey, I helped on that contraption,” Annie pointed out, given Nolan a gap-toothed grin. “I soldered the wires to that triangle-looking thing.”

  “Yes, yes. Annie was very helpful.” Aluki patted Annie’s leg. “Hannan and Nuchik, also helpful. They protected me while I met with my suppliers. Your race is quite resourceful.”

  “Aluki,” Lena said, her voice thoughtful. “This power supply, what is it? The readings it gives off are similar to one of our fusion reactors, but it seems to produce an order of magnitude more power.”

  “Mmm, it’s called a starlight generator. We can no longer manufacture them, but we can recharge them. They were very, very common at the beginning of the Imperium. There were hundreds of millions. The supply has dwindled, but they can still be found on nearly any world. Broken ones make their way back to Imperalis, where the techsmiths repair them.”

  “I imagine R&D will dismantle it, before replying with a message,” Nolan mused. “Sending them one of these starlight generators could be as important as telling them about warp technology. Aluki, is there any chance that the Imperium will detect the warp?”

  “Mmm, it’s possible, but I don’t think so. The power signature is very small.” The stocky alien turned toward T’kon, who was lounging against a nearby mech, watching them silently. “T’kon, you are Ganog. What do you think?”

  “It’s extremely unlikely they can detect the warp,” T’kon rumbled quietly. “There are scanners capable of such a thing, but they are expensive and rarely deployed. You also have to understand Ganog mindset. If their elites were stranded behind enemy lines, it would be their duty to inflict as much damage as possible before dying. Gathering intel is something relegated to the leadership caste, not the warrior caste. I do not think they will suspect such a tactic, or guard against it. However, Krekon is canny. If any Ganog would think to monitor warps, it would be he.”

  “It’s worth the risk. Hannan, Burke, get over here.” Nolan ordered. He waited for both to approach before continuing. “Get your respective squads into a state of readiness. I want lookouts posted in the superstructure above. You can work out shifts.”

  “Which one of us is in charge?” Burke asked, eyeing Nolan suspiciously.

  “You are, Burke.”

  Hannan’s head shot up, and Nolan saw the heat in her gaze—but her jaw locked, and she held her tongue.

  “Why?” Burke asked. His confusion seemed genuine.

  “Because, Lieutenant, you made some unfortunate and unfounded remarks about my squad’s level of discipline, and here’s the thing: I know Hannan will follow orders if I put you in charge. If I put her in charge, I’d have to worry about you undermining her authority. You think you’re better than us, and I can’t have you questioning Hannan’s judgement in a critical situation because you think you’re hot shit.”

  “I see.” Burke’s face went stony as he watched Hannan. “All right sir, we’ll get patrols set up immediately. Hannan, Nuchik, you’re with me.” Burke led the others up the ramp and out of sight.

  “Well done, Captain,” T’kon rumbled.

  “We’ll see,” Nolan said. “Aluki, I’ve got a job for you as well. You can take T’kon with you, if you think it’s necessary.”

  “Mmm, what do you need me to do?” she asked, blinking large eyes.

  “If this were my world, people would hate the Imperium. They’d be angry after an attack like the one Krekon made on the market.” Nolan folded his arms, hoping he was right in his assumptions. “My people would be ready to fight back, given the opportunity. The question is, are yours? Do you know of anyone who might be willing to help us free this world?”

  “That’s a tough question.” Aluki wrung her hands. She rocked back and forth for several seconds before speaking. “I think so, yes. We are not warrior caste, but some will fight. Others will be willing to help in small ways, passing word or helping us get weapons. They could still be useful. The Saurians are our best bet. They might fight.”

  “Good. How quickly can you meet with these Saurians?” Nolan asked.<
br />
  “Mmm, I can go right now.” Aluki gave one of those large grins. “The Ganog call us ka’tok. But we will teach them that we have teeth. Well…some races have teeth. Not Whalorians.”

  “T’kon, will you escort her?” Nolan asked.

  “A wise precaution, Captain. Saurians are opportunistic and violent. Seeing an elite there will force them to listen, at the very least. I am fairly certain I can convince them to meet with you.”

  29

  Allies

  Nolan stepped nervously inside the pavilion. The dirty fabric rippled from the growing winds. Three dozen faces—a mixture of aliens—stared back at him. Most were blue-scaled Saurians, with a few Whalorians mixed in.

  “Mmm, will be another storm soon,” Aluki cautioned. “A bad one. We should be swift.” She waddled toward the middle of the tent, and a pair of Saurians stepped out to greet her. She shifted toward Nolan, beckoning him to join her.

  He walked over as casually as he could manage, consciously keeping his hand away from his sidearm. Any one of these people could be a spy, or could decide to kill him for the very thing that had brought them together to listen: the cores.

  “This is Nolan. Nolan, this is Sissrot and Sissus. Sissrot is the leader of his people, and I’ve only just met Sissus.” Aluki turned back to the Saurians, delivering an infectious grin. Even the Saurians smiled.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nolan.” Sissrot said, his voice sounding a bit like the low rumble a crocodile made. He clenched his fist over his heart, so Nolan mirrored the gesture. Sissrot waved at his companion. “I believe it is Sissus you have come to speak to, however. Sissus, the time is now. We will never have a better.”

  The Saurian he’d addressed as Sissus did not look pleased. His reptilian face was more or less emotionless, but still managed to convey distaste. “Very well, elder. The risk is great, but I will do as you ask. I am Sissus, and you are alive because of my actions.”

  Nolan licked his lips, mentally backpedaling. “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “Observe, ka’tok.” The Saurian closed its eyes, and began a series of shallow, rapid breaths. Its scales rippled, reversing themselves as he watched. The blue changed to red, flowing down the Saurian’s body until he’d completely changed. Sissus opened his eyes. “Do you know me now?”

  Nolan took an involuntary step backward. “You look just like the Saurian kill team we ran into when we rescued Burke.”

  “Yes. I sent one pack, instead of all four. I delayed our response, giving you a chance to slip away.” The Saurian leaned closer, its breath cold and musky. “Had I come personally, with all my forces, you and your companions would now be dead.”

  “Why did you let us go?” Nolan asked. He’d thought the escape was a little too easy, and the sudden confirmation was jarring.

  “Because you are the knife with which I will kill Krekon,” Sissus said. He gave a low, alarming hiss. “I risked much in letting you live, and I’d see that deed repaid. You will provide the opportunity to kill Krekon, sooner or later.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Nolan asked. Sissrot hadn’t spoken, nor had Aluki. But they were watching. Everyone was.

  “Nothing, yet. I thought it premature to speak to you, but elder Sissrot insisted. So I have spoken. I do not know how letting you live will lead to Krekon’s death, but by the Nameless Ones I will make it so.” Sissus turned back to Sissrot. “I have lingered long enough. I must return, or the clutch will question my absence. We cannot risk alerting Krekon, or we will never have the opportunity to strike.”

  “May you avoid their gaze.” Sissrot bowed to Sissus, and the Saurian spy retreated. Sissrot waited for him to depart before continuing. “Excuse his hostility, but I thought it important that you meet him, so you can see that my people have at least some power. We wish to be taken seriously, not treated as ka’tok. As you can see, most of us are armed.”

  “I promise to take you seriously, Sissrot. Your people will be invaluable in a fight, and my squad will take all the help we can get.”

  “Is it true that you have some way to combat the elites?” Sissrot gave that croc rumble again. “We are good fighters, but the reason the clutches do not rebel is fear of the elites. We cannot stand against them. That is how they conquered our world in the first place.”

  “I’m guessing most of you saw the battle when my people arrived,” Nolan said. “I have access to a few of the war machines we used to kill elites. We can kill them, with your help.”

  “Good. Then let us talk about the reason we are willing to aid you.” Sissrot watched him with deadly intensity. “Aluki says the unthinkable: that your people possess the ability to manufacture cores.”

  “She’s right,” Nolan admitted. “My people do possess that tech.” He wasn’t high enough rank to divulge state secrets, but cores were hardly state secrets. They were common tech used by two dozen new manufacturing companies. “I can’t provide you cores—not yet. We’re cut off from our fleet, and until they return we’re on our own. But I have a proposition. If you help us when our fleet arrives, I can promise each of you your own core. We can also secure you safe passage off this rock.”

  The room erupted into shouts. People clapped each other on the back. Many whooped. It was as if they’d all won the lottery and been told they were given immortality at the same time.

  Sissrot gave Nolan a respectful bow. “Captain, you have the support of the Sisska clutch.”

  30

  Theta Cannons

  Fizgig’s leg ached, but she ignored the slight limp as she walked down the viewing ramp. Khar walked beside her, studiously ignoring her limp. She in turn ignored the fact that his body was slightly…off. The scientists who’d designed the synthetic fur had done an admirable job, but there was no way to duplicate a proper Tigris scent.

  Khar looked as he had—all powerful muscles and long limbs. His golden mane framed his face, and his fangs gleamed under the soft lights. Even his eyes were the same, the slits dilating as he peered through the window at the dry dock.

  “An impressive weapon,” he rumbled. “The refitting goes swiftly.”

  “Not swiftly enough,” Fizgig countered. Drones swarmed around a human vessel, tiny laser torches affixing the new cannon.

  That cannon ran the length of the cruiser, jutting out past the end of the hull. It had a wide bore, though Fizgig had no idea what kind of ordnance it fired. It didn’t look like a particle cannon or gauss rifle, and she could think of no other weapon they’d have used.

  The welds around the new cannon seemed sound, though the ship wouldn’t win any prizes for beauty. In the distance were several other space docks, all bathed in the light of the white star in the center of the mythical Birthplace.

  Its radiance was collected by a massive Dyson Sphere encasing the three artificial worlds the Primo had constructed. That energy was used to stabilize the system, keeping it stationary at the edge of the supermassive blackhole near the galactic core.

  The location made the Birthplace nearly impossible to reach, but that was only part of what kept this place safe. Secrecy was an even greater defense, and only a need as urgent as her own would cause Fizgig to risk exposing it.

  A pair of human scientists in white coats were approaching. The scientist in the back wore thick glasses, and his head was buried in a datapad. Fizgig dismissed him as an underling. She knew the woman in the lead, who walked with the powerful grace of a warrior despite her academic bearing.

  “Kathryn,” Khar boomed, sweeping the smaller human into a hug. She squeaked when his grip tightened. “This place you have built is truly marvelous.” Finally he set the human down, though she looked a little dazed.

  “It’s your first time seeing the Birthplace. I’d forgotten.” Kathryn straightened her glasses, peering up at Khar. “How’s the body working?”

  “It is wondrous.” Khar clenched and unclenched his hand, grinning broadly. “I feel Tigris, but so much more. I am stronger, faster, and do not n
eed to breathe. Many of my warriors have expressed a desire for similar bodies.”

  “Trust me, I know.” Kathryn rolled her eyes, but the smile was still in place. “We get a barrage of requests every day, but we’re not equipped for mass production yet. That body is a prototype, so be careful with it. We don’t have replacements lying around. Most of our resources are going to refitting the fleets.”

  “Which is why we have come. Time is short, and we’ve no time for pleasantries. What have you made for me, Kathryn?” Fizgig hated how much it relieved her to stop walking.

  The human woman looked much the same as when Fizgig had last seen her. A decade had passed for her, while only a year had passed for Fizgig. There were a few more wrinkles on her face, a few grey hairs among the mass of dark curls.

  “The weaponry we’re attaching is called the theta cannon. We developed it based on the information you passed us about these new aliens. The theta cannon fires a superheated alerium core, surrounded by a nimbus of plasma. Effectively, you are firing small stars at your opponents.”

  Fizgig began to purr. “And you’ve constructed enough of these to outfit the 2nd Fleet?”

  “We’re working as fast as we can, but we only have so much manpower. Or drone power, I guess. We’ll need about another week, your time. Then you’ll finally have the tools to fight back.”

  “And this theta cannon will punch through the enemy shields?” Fizgig asked. Her natural skepticism wouldn’t be quieted.

  “We can’t know for sure. The models we’re using are based on data you provided. Once you’d used enough firepower, the enemy’s shield went down. Temporarily, at least. The theta cannon will deliver approximately three times as much force as the combined assault you used before.”

  “Impressive, Kathryn. Both Dryker and Nolan would be pleased, I am sure.” Fizgig paused, a sudden drawback occurring to her. “The rounds that this fires. How large are they and how many have you produced?”