Wrath of an Angry God: A Military Space Opera

by Michaels, Gibson

  The fact that the victors happened to be aliens in this case, wasn’t expected to be overly problematic, but one never knew for sure. That was why Raan needed to give instructions to all of his planet-masters, quadrant-masters and sector-masters personally, in the attempt to minimize the potential for rebellion. It would take most of a full year for such an extensive tour to be completed fully, but Kalis took Raan at his word that it was vitally necessary, if peaceful coexistence was to be fully accomplished.

  * * * *

  The Planetoid Discol, City of Waston

  October, 3868

  Hal received the condensed version of Admiral Kalis’ report several days earlier, forwarded from his brother on Minnos. It took a bit longer for Hal to receive the full version from his brother on Ginia, as Kalis’ reports back to the Confederacy were more intricately detailed and the classified versions completely unedited. Kalis was, after all, a Confederate officer now, and that was where his primary loyalties lay.

  While Noreen nursed little Hans, Hal told her and Diet what he’d learned from Kalis’ report about the mysterious High-Human the Raknii had reportedly captured during their raid on Bavara, and all that Raan had said about what his missing alter ego had been up to since his disappearance there, the day after their wedding.

  It was good to know that the mobile Hal was alive and well, but they’d all been a bit shocked to discover that he had somehow ended up as a close personal advisor to the new supreme-master of the entire Raknii Empire. That boded well for the eventual determination of the war, but, for her part, Hal’s in-depth knowledge of events that no one outside of the military should have had access to gave Noreen a distinct chill. But she still refused to ask, still quite sure that she didn’t really want to know.

  Diet grew unusually quiet after Hal detailed the events at the battles at Slithin and 2nd Yegraia, but covered it admirably when he abruptly told Noreen that he would soon be taking her out to be fitted for a whole new wardrobe. She’d have been even more surprised to discover that he wasn’t merely talking about taking her to a top-of-the-line fashion boutique in Waston, but to the German Imperial capital in Berlen on the planet Branden, to visit the royal outfitters to the Empress Wilhelmina herself. That would come later.

  * * * *

  Admiral Enrico Melendez, Chief of Fleet Operations for the United Stellar Alliance, was stunned. The news of J.T.’s tragic, yet heroic death at the 2nd Battle of Yegraia paralyzed Melendez like a shot to the solar plexus. Alliance Fleet surgeons had done everything humanly possible to save him, but J.T.’s injuries were just too extensive, and the shocks to his body too great. He died peacefully, without pain, just four days after the greatest victory of his life. At least J.T. had reportedly regained consciousness long enough to have been told of his victory, and died knowing that despite overwhelming odds, he’d been successful in doing his duty and forcing the enemy to withdraw.

  But Melendez was disconsolate. First came Bat’s mysterious disappearance, and now J.T.’s death. It was surreal to think they were both gone. Both! Those two incredible officers had been as close as blood kin to Melendez — closer in some respects. They’d been friends, as well as colleagues, and Melendez was devastated by their loss. He’d loved them both, like the sons he’d never had.

  Outwardly, the Alliance was jubilant… insanely joyous in celebration of their great victories at Slithin and Yegraia and of six more newly conquered alien planets. Then came the stunning news of the sudden and unexpected capitulation of an entire Raknii region containing almost 60 planets — virtually assuring President McAllister of a second term in the fall elections. Behind the scenes, the coalition was scrambling to get more defensive forces out there, to relieve J.T.’s battered 17th Fleet. If the cats mounted another concentrated counter-attack with ships like the ones J.T. had fought there, 17th Fleet was vulnerable, but the incredible distances involved made getting anything out there cumbersome.

  J.T.’s body was on its way back from far off Yegraia, deep in the heart of cat country. J.T.’s family had already approved of the Fleet having him interred in a place of honor at Arlinton National Cemetery, just outside Waston. The president had already signed off on SecDef Campbell’s recommendation for J.T.’s posthumous promotion to full admiral and Congress had accepted Admiral Kalis’ recommendation for Admiral James Timothy Turner to receive the Congressional Medal of Honor, for personal valor above and beyond the call of duty in successfully repulsing over 100 times his own numbers — an achievement destined to be enshrined in the annals of military history, as possibly the greatest defensive masterpiece of all time. Melendez and his aide-de-camp, Commander Marilyn Fredricks, were personally making the arrangements for a massive hero’s military funeral. But much of the paperwork had to be redone several times, as Marilyn’s tears made the ink run on many of her early efforts.

  * * * *

  The Germanic Planet of Branden, City of Berlen

  November, 3868

  Noreen found herself missing the human Hal more than ever, as she and Diet toured the historic old city of Berlen. Hal spoke German and had acted as their interpreter during their magical wedding trip to Bavara, before that Raknii raid stole him away from both of them, and those awful weeks of hiding in a hotel basement that followed.

  As promised, Diet had indeed taken her to be fitted for a new wardrobe by the royal outfitters of the German Empress herself. Noreen had no idea where Diet had gotten this particular wild hair, but she supposed it was an early Christmas gift. Little Hans cooed prettily at the slightly plump, pink-cheeked, blond German girl who held him, and accompanied them around the city, acting both as nanny and interpreter. Noreen never dreamed the pleasant young lady holding her baby was actually an incredibly deadly agent of the German Secret Service, tasked with the protection of the German Royal Family.

  Upon receiving the first of her new wardrobe items to be completed, Diet arranged for a mysterious clandestine dinner for the family — a dinner whose details he seemed to take particular delight in keeping all to himself. “It’s a surprise,” was all she could pry out of him. That made Noreen miss Hal even more… even the bodiless voice version of him, on whom she could generally work her feminine wiles and usually finagle at least a hint of what Diet might be up to, whenever he got secretive.

  Diet spared no expense on their accommodations. They were staying in the Royal Penthouse Suite of the fabulous Schlosshotel Im Berlen Gendarmenmarkt, at a mere $106,000 per night. At Diet’s insistence, Noreen spent almost the entire day being incredibly pampered by a small army of hotel staff, who literally brought an entire resort spa regimen right to their room. Sauna, skin treatment, massage, nails, hair, makeup… if this was what life was like for German royalty, she could certainly get very used to being a baroness, for damned sure.

  Noreen sometimes wondered how it was that Diet managed to remain the richest man in the universe with all the corporate takeovers that TBG was actively involved in. Hal had tried explaining it to her once… how he constantly monitored the stock markets within the Alliance and Confederacy, looking for certain complex patterns to emerge — and then buying and selling massive blocks of stocks at incredibly high speeds, sometimes doing both to the same stock within a mere matter of minutes, managing to average a profit of a single penny per share on each transaction. Multiplied by millions of shares traded every day, those pennies added up to an incredibly vast amount of income.

  When she’d asked Hal about the legalities and moralities of manipulating the market in ways unavailable to the general public, Hal had assured her that he was meticulously careful not to break the spirit of securities exchange laws and rules, and that he was very careful in making sure that his shenanigans generally tended to keep the market profitable and stable, and thus more healthy for the average investor.

  When Noreen was dressed to the nines in her resplendent new gown, a limousine picked the four of them up and whisked them off into the Berlen night. Diet was dressed as Noreen had never seen him �
��in full royal regalia… a black tunic edged in gold, starburst medals and iron cross at his throat, with a gold sash running shoulder to hip, a gold stripe running down the side of each pant leg, disappearing into a set of high, black boots having golden spurs. Even their nanny was dressed infinitely better than Noreen had ever seen her. Diet obviously had something very, very special in the offing.

  Noreen soon got lost, trying to follow the plethora of turns the limo was taking, and she gave up trying to figure out where they were. Eventually the limo pulled up to what appeared to be another massive, exquisite hotel. Six tuxedo-clad young men greeted them at the door and escorted them to an elevator, where they were met by a different six young men in black tie on the third floor, who escorted them to an absolutely stunning room, the likes of which Noreen had only seen in electronic magazines.

  Just as she was gawking at the room itself, Noreen was startled by the loud banging of a staff upon the floor next to her, and an ornately dressed older gentleman bellowing, in English:

  “Your Royal Majesties, I am pleased to announce the arrival of Freiherr Dietrich Anton Guderian von und zu Fürt, his wife Freiin Noreen and their newborn son, the Honorable Hans Niklaus Guderian!”

  The herald paused a moment before continuing, “Freiherr and Freiin, I am very honored to present to you, His Royal Majesty, Kaiser Wilhelm VII, Emperor of Imperial Germanic Empire and his wife, the Empress Wilhelmina!”

  Evidently, Diet’s big surprise was that they were having an intimate family dinner with his great-uncle.

  * * * *

  The Raknii Imperial Planet of Raku

  November, 3868

  The remnants of Tzal’s imperial fleet, which had been beaten by the humans at Slithin and then again at Yegraia, arrived back at Raku just after Tzal left for Slithin. Less than two out of every ten ships that the empire had built and equipped with the best new weaponry available had returned, and it didn’t take long for word of the twin disasters that had befallen that proud fleet to leak out. For his part, Drix turned a blind eye to the slowly developing sense of panic, radiating from the fleet into the populace upon their hearing these dark tales. Soon, rumors of these dire events and the grave implications of the ominous silence from Region-6 would spread by word-of-mouth throughout the farthest reached of the empire, as spaceliners took it with them on their rounds like carriers of disease.

  They didn’t know it yet, but the cracks in the Raknii people’s long-standing belief in their utter invincibility as predators that first appeared after the Disaster at Golgathal, were about to receive yet another series of even stronger blows. Drix’ unprecedented message to the Raknii people upon his ascendancy to the supreme-mastery, and the wide-spread publishing of his subsequent Book of Revelations, were already causing riots, rebellion and other forms of civil disobedience to break out on dozens of planets all over the empire, as proponents of modern secular philosophy fought back at the new government’s attempt to bring religion and “the old ways” back to prominence within Raknii society.

  Their mantra was not Freedom of Religion, but rather Freedom from Religion, as they railed for a binding and permanent separation of temple and state, within the government. The violence and chaos was less in Region-1 and Region-3, as Xior and Glan had always been devout followers of the old ways, so there was less need for changing hearts and minds there. Harf and Olin, however, had their hands full trying to restore order to their newly unruly populace.

  The human aliens were currently seeing to things in Region-4, and very probably in Region-6 as well, but no one really knew for sure about that one.

  Drix summoned Region-Masters Harf, Glan and Olin to the imperial palace to brief them personally on the extent of the disasters, and to discuss their implications as they debated strategy for curtailing the onrushing human scourge. All had been appropriately horrified by the setbacks and losses sustained by the fleet, but became profoundly alarmed by the ominous silence from Region-6 and what that might portend. Drix held joint and private meetings with all three region-masters, so he could judge both their public and private opinions on these grave matters.

  Only with his private meetings with his foster-sire Glan, of Region-3, did he include the High-Human, Hal into their conversations. Varq and Xior monitored all of these discussions invisibly, hidden from the view of all but Drix, by the hypnotic injunctions that caused the diamond sunburst and onyx rank-stones of an OverMaster to create a mysterious “hole” in Raknii memories. Glan was already a devout follower of Dol, and he was fully committed to supporting Drix’ efforts to bend the hearts and minds of the Raknii people into accepting his new Bible, as a new and authoritative guide for their daily lives. Harf and Olin had to be treated a bit more delicately, as their roots in modern secularism were considerably stronger than Glan’s.

  Drix deftly followed his intricately crafted script of a series of leading questions (much as he’d used on Tzal), which were specifically designed to guide his listeners towards discovering for themselves the truth and logic behind the points he wished them to comprehend. Drix had always had a natural bent for such tactics, but it wasn’t until his discussions with Hal that he was able to develop it into a true art form. Hal explained it as the Socratic Teaching Technique, first developed by the human philosopher Socrates, some 4,200 standard human years earlier.

  Harf was fearful of these unsettling events, of course, but he was too overcome by the changes he witnessed in his daughter N’raal, for them to really sink in. N’raal was not only civil, she was actually pleasant! She was a very good dam to Drix’ heir and she doted submissively on her mate with rarely an unpleasant thing to say. N’raal was truly happy, and Harf marveled at the changes in his formerly petulant daughter. Harf didn’t know what all the answers were to these unstoppable aliens, but he was willing to turn most of those problems over into Drix’ capable paws. Whatever they were, those problems couldn’t possibly be any worse than what Drix had confronted in civilizing Harf’s legendary daughter.

  Drix’ questioning led Harf to discovering exactly what Drix wanted him to realize, and Harf came away thinking that most of it had been his idea in the first place. From the way things shook out, Harf believed himself to be a primary leader among the region-masters, in their efforts to formulate a workable strategy for placating their angry god and saving their race from extinction.

  Olin, of Region-5, was another matter entirely. From his monitoring of the human ships’ x-wakes, his region was constantly being crisscrossed by their warfleets and transports, ferrying supplies back and forth to their various war efforts in Region-4. His warship masters were wild to attack these interlopers, but Olin had prohibited attacks, as he knew that his old-style warships would be totally ineffective against the fantastic armor of the human’s warships. Olin had been immersed in modern secular philosophy since birth, so arrogant aggression towards any non-Raknii race was ingrained in his very genes. The impotency of his military was not only aggravating him, it was frightening him. Although the aliens had not yet attacked any of his worlds, their very proximity was giving Olin a severe case of indigestion.

  During questioning, Olin was forced to admit to himself that their Empire was indeed in a bad way, but he just couldn’t quite bring himself to even consider voluntary submission to aliens as a viable alternative to their current slow march towards the same destination, one world at a time. The potential deaths of billions of Raknii citizens in stubborn defiance of invaders somehow remained less repugnant to him than living with the shame incurred in saving those lives by submission, without even attempting to fight.

  Drix found himself wishing that his friend and old mentor Raan was here, as Raan had already established a semblance of rapport with Olin, in ways that he had not. Perhaps Raan’s influence might have made enough of a difference to nudge Olin into agreement with the policy that Drix needed the unanimous support of all of his region-masters to implement without inciting civil war within the empire. Unfortunately, Raan had neither resp
onded to Drix’ summons, nor did he have any word at all about what was transpiring in Region-6, since all communications from there suddenly ceased, seven sub-cycles ago.

  Drix certainly had his suspicions as to what might be happening there. Humans had to be swarming all over Region-6 to have invaded so many worlds in Region-4 recently. Reports of enemy movement from Olin’s forces within Region-5 confirmed that.

  Drix also knew of the high probability that humans had some form of undetectable ships which could scout Raknii systems without their knowledge, so if the humans had somehow discovered one or more of Raan’s worlds, he would most certainly lock down all communications with other regions to prevent humans from discovering worlds beyond what was revealed to them by the planted start-charts that had led to their attacks on Blug’s worlds. But Drix never dreamed that Raan had personally bared belly and throat, submitting the 60-plus worlds of Region-6 to the humans. It truly might have been to his advantage, if he had.

  * * * *

  Chapter-24

  The enemy fought with savage fury, and met death with all its horrors, without shrinking or complaining: not one asked to be spared, but fought as long as they could stand or sit. — Davy Crockett

  The Planetoid Discol, City of Waston

  December 10th, 3868

  After the debacle of the Confederate War of Independence, the United Stellar Alliance desperately needed heroes and the Battle of 2nd Yegraia finally gave them one. Admiral James Timothy Turner led the Alliance 17th Fleet in both battles of Yegraia, and he had won them both. The first one had been a walkover, barely worth mentioning… but the second one however, was epic. Hell in the Rocks, as the Fleet had begun calling it, had been as brilliant as it had also been deadly.