The Warlord's Path

by Michael Kotcher

  ((--[][]--))

  The next several days were a hurricane of activity, with Verrikoth right at the eye of the storm. Once the quarters were seen to and the bulk of the soldiers and drones left behind, the tours began. The Warlord demanded to be taken everywhere. They visited the factories in the Judha Quarter of Tikkal, the Tedzun Market and walked down the rows of stalls and kiosks, past various vendors trying to hawk their wares. Verrikoth purchased pieces of fruit for himself and the Xai’ryn from one vendor, and two bowls of ejahai paste for his drei’kai, who devoured the treat with a will. They finished their snack and were ready to go within minutes.

  They visited apple orchards and farmlands, but also heavy industrial compounds, to see the steelworks and microchip factories. Verrikoth went down the assembly line at a ground vehicle plant, chatting with the workers, all of whom were amazed and overwhelmed by the visit. None were angry or fearful (except of the drei’kai), and he seemed genuinely interested in what they had to say.

  The line workers were respectful of the Duchess when she was introduced, but it was clear she was completely overshadowed by her zheen comrades. She didn’t appear to be taking this well, either, but so far managed to keep her comments to herself. The dark cloud of her mood seemed to grow blacker every time a line worker asked questions of the Warlord and the female zheen rather than to her.

  They spent the rest of the afternoon going through the largest hospital in Tikkal. Verrikoth spoke with harried doctors and nurses who, while impressed with Verrikoth’s title and history, nonetheless had a hospital to run. The Xai’ryn spent the time visiting the various wards, giving words of comfort and showing her own deformities and scars. Most had never laid eyes on broodmother before, and they bombarded her with questions.

  She answered them all with grace and patience. There was a bad moment, however, when a teenage lupusan female reached up to touch her and laid her hand on the sensitive nerve endings to one of her exposed glands. Pain shot through the female zheen, and she hissed in agony, almost lashing out with one of her talons.

  The drei’kai were instantly on their feet, cackling, and hissing. The quad of guards, in turn, raised their own weapons. The lupusan shied backward from the activity around her. The Xai’ryn, shuddering a bit at the pain, turned to face the wolf female who was darting her eyes from side to side, ears flat to her head. The adolescent was looking for some sort of (any sort of) escape route. The rest of the patients were cowering in fright. The biomonitors were all flashing red, and alarms were beeping frantically.

  “Easy,” the broodmother said, gently waving her arms, trying to bite back the pain. Her voice was soothing. “There is no threat. Everyone relax.” She turned to the wolf. “I’m afraid you cannot touch me. I have exposed nerve endings here from some cruel experiments performed on me by pirates.” She gestured, and all of the patients unclenched a bit, straining to see. This elicited more questions, and she spent the next half hour answering them all, making sure that she spoke with everyone in the ward.

  The Duchess watched all of this in steely silence, trying to keep her animosity bottled up. She hated to see the ease in which this big slug managed to insinuate herself with these people. Karyna’s people. And with the orderlies in here recording everything on their comm units and with the hospital security vid, it would be uploaded to the planetary datanet within minutes. And her legend would grow. And with all the hubbub about the Warlord playing tourist, speaking with the managers, supervisors and line workers like, leaving no section of the capital city unchecked, it would only increase his prestige as well. Especially since neither of them was doing anything disruptive. All they were doing was talking, asking questions and answering even more.

  This will call for a different plan. It will just take a bit more patience and a bit longer. She plastered her most sincere and warm expression on her face, and moved off, heading to a different ward, looking to co-opt their strategy for herself.

  ((--[][]--))

  They spent two weeks going to every business, large and small, in the capital city of Tikkal. The less reputable places they steered clear from, but Verrikoth was determined that he would see it all before long. The Duchess was looking as primped and clean and ready each day, but he could tell that he was starting to run her ragged, with his demands that she accompany him everywhere he went. That was fine. The government could still get a hold of her at any time, and there were more than a few times an hour that she would be taking calls and giving orders. Verrikoth had made sure his own code monkeys had sliced into the planetary comm net and linked him into her transmissions. She would not be hiding anything from him while they were out touring the city.

  There were some other plans he was going to put into motion, and he called up to Nemesis to speak with Commander Tyler. There was no reason he couldn’t delegate. There was a great deal to do to solidify his position and then to grow from there. With a few well-placed pieces on the board, he could work to do both at once.

  Epilogue

  “Enter.”

  Jensen Tyler stepped into the Warlord’s ready room, closing the hatch behind. He took two steps inside the compartment and then stood at a loose parade rest. “My Lord.”

  “Commander.” Verrikoth did not turn away from his displays.

  “How goes the recruitment drive, my Lord?”

  Verrikoth clicked his mandibles lightly. “Sslowly, but that iz to the good. I don’t want a huge number of fresh facez flooding my sship. Right now, Korix iz working up two new ssquadz of ssoldierz.” Seeing Tyler’s quickly suppressed look of confusion, he elaborated. “Korix iz new to commanding anything larger than hiz platoon. He waz only promoted to Ssergeant two monthss ago. I did not want to tax hiz abilitiez sso quickly, not where there iz no real call for haste.”

  “Korix isn’t quite ready for a War Leader role,” Tyler said, frowning.

  “No, he izn’t,” Verrikoth agreed. “He can fight, but he izn’t quite sseazoned enough for the role, but he iz all I have at thiss moment.” The zheen buzzed a sigh. “I waz perhapss a bit hasty in deploying mosst of the platoonz to the surface, but I wanted the Xai’ryn to have the besst protection possible.”

  “Perfectly understandable, my Lord. Security screenings will take some time, just to make sure we get out procedures ironed out.”

  Verrikoth hissed. “What a fascinating modern age we live in, where we have to sscreen potential sspiez and ssaboteurz out of our forcez. We cannot trusst a warrior’z word anymore.” They had discussed potential treachery by the Duchess, and thus the enhanced security procedures and screenings were enacted. The Warlord did not want to believe people on his capital world would turn against him, but he also knew many were more loyal to the Duchess than they were to him. And he had been away for two years. He couldn’t guarantee their loyalty, and until he could, he would keep the number of newcomers small. Also, to be sure all those recruits could integrate into a proper fighting force. A single platoon plus two more squads, twenty-eight soldiers, was hardly a large fighting force, but it was a start. Once the fresh meat got their legs under them and learned which way to point their weapons and how to accept orders, then he would work on bringing in more.

  “We sstill have quite a bit of work to do yet,” Verrikoth admitted ruefully. “But I think that jusst being in the ssysstem iz working to keep a lid on thingz. At leasst for the moment. Nemessiss and her planetary bombardment launcherz are making people sstay on their besst behavior. Ssimply removing the Duchess I think would be a misstake. I don’t need a full upheaval here, but we will keep an eye on thingz. And the Xai’ryn will keep me apprized of thingz on the ground.”

  Tyler nodded and started to speak but was interrupted by the comm panel chiming. Verrikoth turned and pressed a control. “Verrikoth here.”

  “My Lord, we have a pair of ships incoming, bulk freighters by the look of them. They’re moving in on a vector from the hyper limit and at current speed should be here in thirty-six hours or so.”

 
Verrikoth looked at the comm window that popped up, showing the bridge’s comms officer. “Are they broadcassting any ID?” He wondered if he should start to get concerned. Nemesis would be ready to fight if needed.

  “Comms are showing ID beacons for Ramell and Runa’s Dance, indicating they’re based out of Feroux-Greaves, in the Republic. They’re big freighters, my lord, more than a klick long, big enough to hold huge amounts of cargo. But we haven’t received any…” The zheen comm officer paused. “Wait, we’re receiving an incoming data packet listed for your eyes only, my Lord.”

  “Put it through to me,” the Warlord ordered. Tyler pointed to the hatch, silently asking if he should leave. The zheen gestured for him to stay, pointing to the chair across from his desk. “Any other messagez?”

  “No, my Lord. For the moment, just that data packet.”

  “Keep me informed. Out.” He closed the channel and turned to the display, which had finished decrypting the information. He started chittering in excitement as the data scrolled down the display, his mouthparts and antennae twitching and squirming.

  “My Lord?” Tyler asked, concerned.

  Verrikoth took in a long breath and then slowly let it out. “The sshipss are from the Republic,” he confirmed. “They are freighterz ssent directly from Admiral Tandred and hiz Ssecond Fleet.”

  Tyler brightened, sitting up a bit straighter in his seat. “Those are the Admiral’s response to the last tribute delivery?”

  Ever since Tandred’s fateful trip into the Argos Cluster fifteen years ago, the one where he met up with a certain aspiring pirate, there was a tenuous relationship between the two. At first, the Republic officer was impressed with Verrikoth’s pluck, as well as his courage.

  Tandred’s small task force consisted of his flagship, the battleship Titan and four destroyers, which met up with Verrikoth’s small attack squadrons, which contained a cutter, a corvette, and two armed freighters. The Lafferty-Liu system had some small space industry as well as factories and other industry on the planet. Titan arrived just as the pirate was landing his freighters to loot one of the supply warehouses, carting off machine parts, electronics and raw, unmolded plastics. The Admiral was here to siphon off some of those goods for himself, to skim a bit of profit for himself and his crews.

  Verrikoth surprised him and with only a cutter and a corvette (with inferior tech to boot) attacked the Republic task force. The fighting was so fierce, and the pirate’s ships so nimble on their engines, they managed to keep the larger ships at bay long enough for the freighters to rise out of orbit and race out of the system to the hyper limit. The cutter managed to dodge the Republic ships’ attacks well enough to escape as well with only minor damage, but the corvette was doomed when a trio of shots tore apart its engines, and another volley tore the ship apart amidships.

  Despite that humiliating victory, Tandred couldn’t help but be impressed. Picking the pirate captain’s escape pod out of the wreckage, he struck a deal with his captured foe, who was brought before the Admiral in chains. In exchange for his life and allowing him to continue his nefarious activities in the Argos Cluster, Verrikoth would send a payment of twenty percent of any loot he managed to steal. A drop-off point was agreed upon, and the zheen was cut loose.

  Verrikoth remembered being grateful to be alive and more than a little bitter in having to deliver a bi-annual tribute to the Republic. To a human, no less.

  The last tribute payment had been sent before the fight in Byra-Kae, and at the time, Verrikoth had sent along a large stockpile of platinum, osmium, gold along with other monetary and industrial metals. This was sent in addition to the standard tribute. The extra was to see if the Admiral could be persuaded to sell him any old and or decommissioned warships rusting away in salvage and ghost yards. He didn’t hold to any illusions that the Admiral would respond, or even if he did that he would send choice pickings, but he did hold onto a tiny flame of hope that he might get something.

  This was beyond hope. “The Admiral ssent uss two bulk freighterz sstuffed with warsshipss.”

  Tyler raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “How many are we talking about?”

  “A fleet, Commander. Four desstroyerz, ssixteen corvettess, and a sscore of cutterzz, enough to bolsster defenssezz and even form a proper sstrike force.”

  “That should more than make up for the losses sustained in hulls since Seylonique!” Tyler exclaimed. “Even if most of those losses weren’t already recouped.”

  “Indeed. Now we just have to get thoze sshipss overhauled and into sspace.”

  “And get crews trained,” Tyler pointed out.

  “Yess, of coursse. I ssuppoze we need to grab the freighterz az well,’ Verrikoth mused. “I don’t want to loze the carrying capacity, and I don’t want them going back to the Admiral with newz about uss. The less he knowz, the better.”

  “Yes, my Lord. Might I request Nemesis and Kopesh move out to meet the cargo ships?” Tyler inquired, his face deadpan but eyes alight. “I’d hate for them to get lost.”

  “No, we would not want that,” Verrikoth agreed. “Get uss underway, Commander. I want to meet them perssonally. And thiss will give Korix and hiz teamz ssome much-needed experience.”

  ((--[][]--))

  “Well, my Lord, this destroyer here is probably in the best shape of the lot,” Nemesis’s chief engineer stated a week later. His image appeared on Verrikoth’s comm display from where he was transmitting aboard the bulk freighter Runa’s Dance. “One of my techs says one of the cutters can be up and flying with three days of work in the local repair slip. Two more cutters should take only four or five days, each.”

  A bit slower than he would like, but getting three ships up and running in two weeks was acceptable. The Chief Engineer would undoubtedly find ways to shave hours and days off those repair estimates.

  “I want all three ready in ten dayz,” he ordered. That should be more than enough time to get them all functional.

  “Yes, my lord. We’re working on getting the best ones unloaded right now. I’ll report back once they’re ready for the slip.”

  “Very well. Out.” He ended the call. Verrikoth stood from his desk, thinking it was perhaps time to see if Korix and his troops (as well as the new fresh meat) were ready to seize one of the freighters. Perhaps he could entice some of the crews to join his own forces. Still in desperate need of crews.

  ((--[][]--))

  Less than an hour later, his comm panel beeped again, a call from the bridge.

  “My Lord, we have a Zeta-priority alert coming in from an inbound cutter. It’s broadcasting friendly ID, the Kirschen, out of Cetetia.”

  Verrikoth felt his nerve clusters freeze. A priority zeta alarm was the highest-level alert, one that every ship captain understood had better only be used in the direst of emergencies.

  “We have an incoming message from the cutter, your eyes only, my Lord,” the comm engineer went on.

  “Ssend it to me. Iz there anything more from them?” The message file transferred over and with the reply in the negative, Verrikoth cut the connection to the bridge.

  He activated the message, and a vid display appeared. A human male’s ugly, fleshy face appeared, with fur on its chin and ice blue eyes. Verrikoth always felt repulsed by humans, though some were better than others, like his flag captain.

  “To Captain Verrikoth or Duchess Krystellion, this is Dunkan Iowa, Acting-Administrator of the Cetetia Rex Shipyards. We are under attack.”

  Verrikoth felt himself buzzing with anger, but he didn’t speak. It was a recorded message; there was no one to speak to.

  “Approximately twenty hours ago, a fleet of ships came into the system.” The man was clearly exhausted and sweating; he wiped a hand over his sweating face. “It wasn’t a huge fleet; one light cruiser-sized ship, one of those hammerhead Republic destroyers, two corvettes, and about six freighters. All of them were beat up, hastily repaired, but they were combat capable. They called themselves the Kingslayers, and they deman
ded that we stand down or be destroyed. We sent out our own ships to deal with them.”

  He let out an exhausted sigh. “They were ready for us. All of the freighters were equipped with missile pods which they unloaded on our ships. We lost our light cruiser Corvus in that salvo. The remaining defense ships attempted to hold them off while we scrambled our fighters, but they were overmatched, and the attackers took them both out.”

  And the fighters? Verrikoth wanted desperately to ask. What about the fighters? Cetetia had two squadrons of obsolete ovoid Muon-class starfighters, and another short squadron of slightly newer but still obsolete Sepulcres. They weren’t any good against more advanced fighters, but they should have given the defenders a chance.

  “They were ready,” the man repeated. “As the fighters started to launch from the bays on the orbital, the launch bays exploded. None of the ships made it out. They had operatives aboard the shipyards, and they sabotaged everything.” He took in a deep, shuddering breath. “When their freighters moved in to dock, their cruiser opened up on the control deck. The Administrator, Primary Zetzik, and Secundus Wollke along with the whole command staff were killed. I was down in the main construction dock checking on the heavy cruiser there when the command deck was hit.” He shrugged, no longer looking straight into the vid pickup. “I’m the ranking officer, so for now, I guess I’m in charge.”

  “What did they take?” Verrikoth hissed. “Did they just desstroy the yardz or did they come in with a purpose?”

  Apparently, Acting-Administrator Iowa heard him. “They stole all of our refined mineral stocks, all of the fuel pods, about a third of our factory machines, five cargo shuttles. And the cruiser.” He paused for a moment, letting his audience recover. “Those teams in the yards were aboard the heavy cruiser. It’s only about sixty percent complete, five decks are still unfinished, but the power systems, engines, partial shields, and hyperdrives were operational. They somehow got access codes, and in the confusion, they just slipped right out of the construction dock and out into space. There was nothing we could do at that point.”