Genesis - the Battle Within (Pillars of Creation Book 1)

by David Tucker

  A weapon’s Wielder class of Immortal needs be able to construct and deconstruct their weapon from its particle-based compound within which its power resides and is sent forth within the Sacred Nanos of their flesh and armour; dually done so within a time span of no more than a few seconds.

  Now Genesis had begun he couldn’t help but finish the verse, mouthing the words silently and bringing clarity to his soul and mind that the Sacred Texts seemed to always exude, and mocking his second Sovereign unintentionally. He also eased the hammers back just a fraction more as the Skink on the right tapped the scanner and looked up, seemingly directly towards him:

  Furthermore and just as importantly, and as decreed by the Elders, an Immortal must be able to reciprocate this process at any given time to become combat ready and entitled as Wielder. From its original form the weapon must be manipulated into no less than two weapon types from their Sacred alpha weapon. From one blade an Immortal should have control enough to metamorphosis its form into many. This manipulation and ancient design choice may seem an ill-fitting procurement in times ahead, yet it is for the Wielders’ own ensured protection. A manifestation of their pure soul with stoutness and vigour armed at hand, beyond even the advancement of technology, Mouziz brought the stone to our ancients so we had rules to guide us … you now are those rules … and you now have the right to rule …

  Genesis grinned at how well he remembered the old Historian’s words … Osiris obviously gaining some sort of purchase on his later lessons in life and training. Genesis remembered that thankfully, he had passed the final half of this commandment many, many years ago and his ability now also allowed him to manipulate both Katana’s base compound from her primary form – of Katana – into her secondary form, the twin, sharp-edged, half metre scimitar blades, laser and psychically sealed from his own Rieft talent, which through manipulation gave him his required weapon types for passing these tests. He let his breath out and swapped his guns back for blades, the items looking like they exploded into gas as the Sacred weapon formed in both hands, and the Skinks moved on below him, satisfied there was nothing above them.

  Even though the galaxy was so far advanced with its own weapons of destruction, his religion could maintain control with a simple blade, and made this fact abundantly clear in as many opportunities as it could. With this thought in mind the Immortal slunk forward, getting close enough to listen intently to the voices on the bridge – finally free to do so.

  A moment later the first voice reached him, “Sir there seems to be only two teams, one entered through engineering, disabling our engines – we lost contact with our men and visuals there, straight after they were detected. The other team breached the hull through the showering quarters, behind the rear hangar, and have deployed ion-turrets and a defensive perimeter. We’ve lost almost two whole squads there sir, and all vitals on our men are showing up as negative.”

  A second, authoritative, voice lifted up above all others.

  “Well then, it seems we are truly at a loss, for if the SED only sent two teams it means we now have an Immortal on board, and if we have an Immortal on board I can guarantee this is a priority mission for the accursed SED, which also means they must be somehow aware of our operation here.”

  Genesis moved to the very edge of the grate, intrigued by his target’s intuition. Whoever had last spoken, assuming it was the ship’s captain, was well aware of SED tactics and obviously a well-versed and higher ranking Skink.

  The younger voice abrasively interrupted the captain in response, “Shit! Oh my God no, it can’t be! I’m not ready to die sir! Shit … no! We’re screwed man, not an Immortal, holy—”

  The more authoritative voice broke back loudly and cut him short, “Stow it Private, I don’t have time for your shit or malfunctions, seal all doors, I’m not going to let them just waltz up in here. Lieutenant, hold the forward corridor, pull the rest of our forces back to the bridge, set up all turrets there. I want every gun we’ve got protecting these doors … now.”

  Genesis heard bustling movement beneath him as many footsteps moved back and forth. He heard the hiss of the bridge’s door closing and a large clunk as the blast shields sealed. The captain’s voice continued, “Private, has the artefact been received, have they located the Aze’tome vessel that Abad’don insists so frequently about? Are the ground forces in position?”

  A brief pause was followed by the sound of radio chatter, with a reply a few seconds later. “Sir … erm … yes sir, ETA two minutes, they are all in position. The Aze’tome is on its way up and the men have just reached the chambers of the Ple’stone. They are bringing the Temple online now sir, its energies will open the objective shortly … Mapia is still complaining that the Aze’tome vessel wasn’t part of the plan though sir, he only knew about the Ple’stone and that should remain as the objective; he is threatening to pull his forces out.”

  “Well remind Lieutenant Mapia he is as committed to this path as we are, he has no other choice other than to comply,” the captain lashed out sharply.

  There was more chatter and then the radio officer spoke again, “He says he wants to see you straight away when he leaves the planet but will do as you command for now sir.”

  The captain’s voice took on a different tone, “Good, and I suppose … well done, you’ve all played your role in a much larger part than any of you could begin to understand. No matter what happens here today, the SED are finally too late, we, for once – we the true saviours of humanity – are a step ahead of them. It has begun, as was foretold; our way has been reopened by our blessed benefactor, and once more we will be whole again. Viva Operation Revolution.”

  A chorus of voices repeated the last three words of the captain in a cheer—

  Unexpectedly, from the bridge below Genesis, there was a bright flash of light that lit up even his concealed dark corner within the vent, soon followed by a strange electrical buzz. Genesis scrambled backwards as a guttural sound cut through all the voices. All else fell silent on the bridge, but his eyes widened in amazement and his breathing quickened as he comprehended what he heard … It couldn’t be, in the name of the Sacred – both his personalities said together – it was a—

  A huge stream of data appeared on his internal HUD. An override kicked in on his suit sending a compressed priority-one message millions of kilometres back to the SINAI on Earth before he could even react.

  Apparently his amazement was shared by the SINAI, to which the sound Genesis had heard was being relayed to. Within seconds a new mission order appeared on his HUD, confirming his fears. His eyes skimmed the order three times before the words sunk in.

  :High Command: direct order from SINAI facility> PRIORITY ONE MESSAGE>> Exterminate all within the bridge: Above all mission directives, exterminate the Tel’nagara traitor:

  Uncommon to his training, Genesis paused, the enormity of what was taking place only now taking hold. Genesis knew a Tel’nagara had not been seen or heard of in over sixty years, and the six that had come to Earth, all those years ago, not only changed the entire history and advancement in human evolution and technology, they were the original conceivers of the SINAI’s construct!

  His mind raced. Genesis didn’t understand how this could be. They were all supposed to have been wiped out in the beginning of the Holy Wars when they aligned with the Skinks and Outer Rim planets. The Tel’nagara was deemed the SED’s greatest enemy and were meant to be all but extinct. The command even back then was that all who harbour or consult with them were punishable by death. Just the thought that one was below him was an absolutely incredible and surreal concept indeed.

  Genesis felt a chill run down his spine, something he hadn’t felt in many years, not since he was a pupil. He realised this mission was no simple routine operation, he now had a very real task ahead of him, and from what little was known of the Tel’nagara, he had a worthy struggle ahead. For they too were legendary and rumoured to be unmatched in their Rieft and combat skills. Like his own rel
igion, these Tel’nagara trained using the same battle concepts, yet even more rigorously, which they introduced to human society in their period of Re-forging. Genesis dwelled on this thoughtfully, figuring what steps he should take next.

  Genesis took a quiet breath and tried to clear his head from the initial shock of what was happening. Just before his second personality took over and, for the first time in many years, he felt he was about to meet a very worthy opponent, one that if not careful could send him back to a time like those very same years he’d just reflected upon, his wretched time of mortality …

  Ɦ

  Minutes earlier

  General Nero Salvador, Captain of the Class 2 military frigate, Star-Runner, sat back in awe, momentarily lapsing into himself despite the fact that his ship was well under attack. The space in front of him seemed to be sucked away into a point of infinity, the solar colours that flared from the portal, which he’d spent the last few years trying to find and operate, were finally a reality and more beautiful than he could have ever imagined. The Temple fired its energy one final time as it became semi stable in structure.

  It was beautiful and terrifying at the same time, gasses and sprites of colour flared within the now distorted space in front of his ship. Lightning coursed throughout the edges of the perfectly spherical phenomenon known only to him from the stories of old; the time from when his beloved brethren had once made their journey across the stars and been betrayed by the treacherous SED. The portal beckoned to him, simultaneously warning of its terrible power. Like the oceans of Earth that he’d seen as a SED cadet, it seemed to call out with a sadness, or a secret. Maybe, he speculated, this is because of the thousands who’d unsuccessfully tried to cross or harness its massive expanse.

  Salvador stoked his beard deep in thought. Many had died for his operation to be fruitful today, and yet he knew many more to come would undoubtedly perish due to their accomplishment. He could finally sense the imminent reclamation of their own holy search … and still, he felt his thoughts curdling – much more would need to be sacrificed, even after today. He sorrowed for his fallen men, even on this day, a day that would go down in an entire galaxy’s history. The Archbishop had told him what their reverends had foreseen, and through the alien – Abad’don – they would achieve this, their even greater goal. The SED will pay for their ignorance, they will pay dearly, he thought with a dark smile.

  For many years his forces had been suppressed; so many had died in its wars, with not even a glimpse or hope at victory. And yet today, they’d begun the fight, the real war, setting themselves on the true path for humanity.

  They thought of themselves so highly, he ruminated, yet how little the Way of the Sacred really knew; it’s the Seekers of Truth that will lead them through the darkness. The universe is about knowledge, not weapons such as their petty cyborg pets, and soon they’ll learn this valuable lesson. Yes, he who holds knowledge, still needs wisdom for the perception to decipher this knowledge … the only true fate and path of men to ascend and the key that they so often overlooked.

  The bridge’s comm suddenly came back to life, first emitting loud static before clearing as the young officer’s voice broke through from the planet’s thick atmosphere. Salvador listened avidly.

  “General Salvador, the portal is at one hundred per cent sustainability and is holding strong, the artefact is being delivered and all ground units are standing by, ready for mobilisation.”

  “Well done Lieutenant,” Salvador replied, “you have all done well here today, the truth will now be told, and our seeking is finally over. Now order a full retreat, get back to your transports and meet up with Abad’don. He will deliver you safely back to base,” Salvador paused for the briefest second, “and one more thing Lieutenant … and I want you to listen very carefully to my next order; for the path of the Seekers you must obey it …” There was radio silence for a few seconds.

  “Um, sir … yes, sir?” The officer stammered uncertainly.

  “Before you retreat I want all your orbital disrupter weapons trained on this location; you are to utterly destroy my ship, immediately.”

  The young voice came back with even more uncertainty, “Sir? Are you sure sir?”

  Salvador kept his voice even, “Do as I say Lieutenant … immediately.”

  “Um, okay, affirmative sir. It’s been an honour ser—”

  Salvador never got to hear the lieutenant’s final words as the Immortal came tearing down from the rear bulkhead, rendering the nano-steel plating to shreds as he burst from the ventilation. His pistols were already drawn and blazing.

  Chapter 7 Chain of Command

  Lieutenant Lyvon Mapia paced nervously, his shiny military-issued boots squelching as he walked through the less than stable terrain. It was a marsh and forest filled planet, which for the past few weeks he’d come to regrettably know, and the intermittent deathly quiet of this place unnerved him, along with every other lowly soldier he’d been sent down here with.

  As Mapia swatted yet another insect away from his head, he noticed sweat trickling down his forehead; it wasn’t just from the oppressive heat of the jungle, it was a clear sign of his nervousness, making it increasingly difficult to keep face before his men. Wiping the sweat and repositioning his lapels for the umpteenth time that morning, his head jerked up as yet another strange call pierced the silence. The surrounding jungle started up again with a cacophony as small and large creatures crashed through the canopies accompanied by their unnerving shrieks. Mapia tried to ignore his men’s stifled laughs. He was not cut out for this, and he and they knew it.

  Mapia listened to the deafeningly high screeches and foreboding low growling tenors, which threatened the sanity of any civilised man’s mind. This time, luckily, nothing charged at them ... and then in the same few seconds, silence again. A swarm of flying creatures suddenly caterwauled loudly, their dark shapes floating through the mist overhead, causing him to duck once more. I hate this place, he thought for the fifth time that morning.

  Even when he’d gotten the orders, he’d thought the general had been out of his grehkin mind making him come here to fire upon his own ship and their main exit strategy – what was he thinking?

  Mapia looked around twitchily. To make matters worse, apparently the Tel’nagara was supposed to be showing up. But relying on an alien species to assist them with transport off this planet, an alien species that had not been seen or heard of for over seventy years—

  His thoughts were interrupted by the pounding of another round of a two hundred and thirty-centimetre orbital disrupter, again lighting up the mist that seemed to be settled thickly over the whole blasted planet. The mist became bathed in an eerie green glow as the rounds disappeared towards their collision course with General Salvador’s frigate. Mapia shook his head in dismay. What a waste of a ship, he thought. One of Mapia’s radar crew hailed him, confirming the hit.

  “Lieutenant, the second volley has directly hit the ship’s engine core, it sustained heavy damage.”

  “Good, very good, well done Private,” he replied with little emotion, “maintain your firing, when the next volley is ready, I want them utterly destroyed, we need to be sure that General Salvador’s final orders are fulfilled.”

  The crewman gave a salute as he turned and issued the command to the cannon’s operator. Mapia felt a knot at the pit of his stomach, the one he felt when he wasn’t entirely sure he’d done the right thing – was it really General Salvador who’d issued the order, what if it wasn’t? I’d be court marshalled and probably hanged by the neck … no it had to be, it was on my secure channel and he’s the only other one who knew it. But why did he want me to fire upon his own ship? It’s lunacy!

  Mapia paced, wiping his sweat and fiddling with his lapels again, his knee-length armoured trench coat billowing behind him as he turned. He abruptly stopped on his next turn as one of his privates ran clumsily into him. The man fell to attention a little too close for comfort, showing his eagerness to g
et out of this hellhole. Or maybe, Mapia thought, I’m just projecting my own fears.

  The young soldier forgot to state his rank before speaking, but Mapia was too absent minded to care, “Sir, the first Artefact is on its way up and our men are falling back from the facility to our designated positions.”

  Mapia scowled as he answered aloofly, not even acknowledging the man, “Excellent, tell the remaining two squads topside to stay behind until all our men are clear, and make sure they bring the Artefact directly to me—”

  Again Mapia was annoyingly cut short. He jumped and made a strange yelp, embarrassing himself as he heard a high-pitched scream from the Temple facility they had been occupying, followed by thumps of gauze rifle rounds. Several more rifles started up, sending their pounding echoes into the mist, along with more screams.

  In a panic he sputtered into his comm, “What the hell is going on down there?” After getting no reply, he pointed at the nearest squads standing around him, “Fire Teams 1 and 2 fall out, I want full escort to a drop-zone stat, that’s it we’re pulling out NOW!” This is the clincher, I’ve had enough of this blanth shit. Time for this officer to get his boots dry and some damned good drink, dining and showering into him – no more dredging around swamp-infested planets fraught with danger.

  Mapia motioned to another two teams as he retreated as fast as he could, “Fire Teams 3 and 4 get the hell in there and get me a sit-rep immediately … the rest of you, we’re off.”

  His last words were drowned out by the firing of the orbital disrupter, again charged enough to punch another volley through the atmosphere. Before his squads could ask what he’d said and before he got the chance to retreat to his transport, a single marine came tearing out of the Temple in such a mad-panicked sprint that she was thrown painfully head first onto the ground as she ran into the low-hanging vines, sliding a full four metres before coming to rest at Mapia’s feet.