"Not long," Frank said. "When General Milner finds out his son has been killed, it won't take him very long to find us at all."
III. SUICIDE PLANET
14. Prelude to Conflict
The stars were the same.
He sat in the captain's chair, staring at the ship's forward display, blinking rapidly as he counted the solar systems. The Perseus cluster, Hawking's Point, Minas Fellspar. All were exactly the same as they always had been, and yet, he knew they were not. His eyes flicked toward the man sitting helplessly in front of the dark navigational console and he said, "Status report, Vilik?"
"No change, Sonjiin. No change," the smaller man murmured. "Everything shorted out when we passed through the wormhole. For all I know, it may be beyond recovery."
Belosh had not moved away from the screen since they'd arrived, staring wide-eyed at the array of stars. "It is too fantastical to believe. I recognize everything but where are the Union patrols? Why are there no Draxx warships? How long have we dreamed of seeing this?"
Sonjiin looked around the ship, a sea of dark display screens and sparking wires. The members of his crew were seated, staring futilely at the tangled mess of cables and dead circuits. Sonjiin stood up, straightened his shirt, and stiffened his back. "Gather the men."
Vilik called out for the rest of the crew to stop working and meet at the center of the ship. They were rag-tag and hungry looking. Freedom fighters who would kill and die for a home they had not seen in years. Loyalists, Sonjiin thought. The children of Nyular.
"My brothers," Sonjiin said softly as he walked behind his captain's chair and wrapped his fingers around the stiff leather headrest. "Some of you are too young to remember the fields of our home. The tall grass and sparkling seas of her red shores are only things you've heard stories of. For those of us old enough to remember, those memories are blackened over by the horrors of war. By the bodies of our sisters and mothers and children scattered dead on the beaches, and the homes of our fathers burning. That is why we swore to revenge ourselves upon those who turned their backs on us. That is why each of you has come to this place, at this time. Is it not?"
He looked around the ship at each of the men, watching them nod. "We stand on the brink of victory. Finally, for the first time in our people's history, we have acquired the means to not only defend ourselves, but to bring about a reckoning for the crimes we have suffered. Now, our enemies will know what it is to suffer. But now I must ask you, warriors of Nyular, to reach deep down within yourselves once more. To find a way to restore power to this ship so that we might return, not as renegades, but as victorious conquerors. Liberators. Princes. I look at your faces and I do not see the remains of a dying race. I see the noble faces of future emperors." Sonjiin reached his hand out toward the nearest man and said, "Brave Belosh, will you see that day with me?"
Belosh squeezed his hand and said, "By any means, my brother."
Sonjiin nodded and moved toward Vilik, "And you, old friend, will you do the same?"
Vilik's eyes blazed, "On to victory, or we die trying!"
Sonjiin turned to the rest of the men, "I tell you now that there will be no feast unless each of you is seated at the table with me. There will be no peace until every Nyular citizen is free. But to do so, this ship, this chariot of fire, must burn once more!"
Each of them shot forth as if sprung from captivity, attacking the ship's systems with renewed desperation. Sonjiin sat back down in the captain's seat and relaxed, staring once more at the familiar sea of stars. Surely, there was a Nyular in this universe as well, he thought. Perhaps one that had not been conquered by the Draxx or castrated by whatever passed for the empirical Union. And if they have, he thought, is it not my duty to liberate them as well?
Something sparked in the corner, filling the room with a brief burst of blue electricity and one of the men cried out, "Come and look! I've found a working system."
Slowly, the ship's engines began to breathe again, the soft, sputtered wheezing of an old man. But they were growing stronger. Sonjiin stared at the stars and thought that their need to return was not so immediate as he'd thought. Not so immediate at all.
The Chief Grand Inquisitor looked down at the man seated before him with mild interest. It was no small thing to seat a General in the interrogation chair, especially one with Milner's qualifications. That day, the General had only worn as many medals and pins as he could fit on his dress uniform, selecting the ones considered most prestigious. Other men would have covered their entire chests with them, but Milner had the look of a man who did not need to impress anyone, even a judicial interrogator.
The Chief Inquisitor was older than the other men who normally sat on the bench, and had been retired from active military service longer than most of the men he passed judgement on had been alive. He did not often attend court hearings any longer, preferring to remain in his study, studying ancient texts in pursuit of arcane lore, but on rare occasions, and for good reason, he would take his seat above the others, who would remain silent in his presences. "General, thank you for coming on such short notice to assist us with our inquiry," the Chief Inquisitor said, smiling benignly.
"I was not aware that summons were voluntary, your honor," Milner said evenly.
The Chief Inquisitor nodded, adding, "Still, it is always good to not have to ask twice."
There were two armored court guardians on either side of the bench, carrying large assault weapons. The only other person in the large courtroom was a quiet, mousy looking woman who sat off to Milner's side at the stenographer's station. Her hands were folded in her lap as she watched the monitor in front of her, making sure each word everyone spoke was properly recorded, and making minor alterations as needed.
The Chief Inquisitor looked down at a large book splayed in front of him and continued, "As you know, this court recently completed an inquiry into the group known as Grendel Unit." He pressed his glasses closer to his eyes as he lifted his book and said, "Our review included the testimony of one Lieutenant Frank Kelly, and Sergeant Robert Buehl. Are you aware of what they told us, General?"
Milner nodded, "I witnessed some of the proceedings, and read transcripts of the rest."
"So have I." The Chief Inquisitor laid down his book and folded his hands in front of him, "Yet, in all of their testimony, I did not see a single mention of one particular subject. A subject I am deeply hoping you will enlighten me on."
"What subject is that, sir?" Milner said.
"Nyular."
Milner shrugged, "What's a Nyular?"
"Do not play games with this court, General!" the Chief Inquisitor boomed. "You know very well what Nyular is. May I remind you that you are under oath, and bound to speak the truth while seated before us! I will now hear you speak on the matter of Nyular, and the weapon called Sun Hammer."
General Milner licked his lips, feeling they were dry. The faces of the guardians were fixed on him, and there was only the sound of the stenographer's machine, recording the length and depth of the breaths he took before answering. Milner looked up at the Chief Inquisitor and said, "It all began with an assassination."
15. S.N.A.F.U. (Situation Normal, All…)
The crowd was restless, anxious for it to begin. They had come to hear the Mayor speak, to give his account of the allegations and see if he would make the sign. To the Tradyllion people, nothing was more sacred. Even as the reptilian agents of the Municipal Guard stalked onto the stage, long, forked tongues flicking at the onlookers faces, they remained resolute.
Many of them were sick. They wore heavy cloths over their faces to keep from infecting anyone else. The ones who weren't ill covered their faces too just to keep from inhaling their germs. Pylons of smoke could be seen still burning in the distance beyond the valley where the dead had been trucked away to be disposed of like refuse. There were children, mothers, husbands, and neighbors piled in with the dead bodies, incinerated instead of buried by the lawful rites of the ancients.
&nbs
p; Every Tradyllion prayed the Mayor would tell them he'd had nothing to do with it. They prayed he would make the sign.
Mayor Forrester was a native Tradyllion who could trace his family back twelve generations to the earliest settlers. His family, it was said, had even originated from Earth. It was worth it to wait to hear the man speak. It was worth it to see if he would make the sign.
The guards were all Ischion, descendants of a Theropod species that had once roamed the plains and valleys of Tradyllia. The scales that covered their bodies sparkled green under the bright red sun and the long, curved claw extending from each foot tapped nervously against the stage as they crossed it. With each flick of their long, yellow-stained tongues they searched the minds of the people surrounding them, searching their thoughts for any who might intend to do Mayor Forrester harm. At the merest hint of dark intent, a swarm of the reptiles would pounce on the would-be attacker and eviscerate him with their claws, rending a man from the base of his jaw down to his groin in seconds. And then feasting. The sound of Ischion feasting on fresh Tradyllion organs had not been heard for a full century, not since the humans formed mass hunting parties and destroyed even the women and children reptiles and forced the survivors to do menial labor.
"It was time," Mayor Forrester said, "to bring their neighbors back into the fold." Soon, his Tradyllion staff members were quietly removed from his home and office and replaced with telepathic lizards.
The landing lights of the Mayor's ship appeared just beneath the cloud line, hissing with grey smoke as the landing gears began to rotate into position and the ship descended. The crowd murmured and shifted, trying to get closer to the stage. Only the nervous flicking of the Ischions' tongues and the poised, razor-sharp peak of their claws kept them from coming too close.
At the back of the crowd, surrounded by over a hundred Tradyllion, a man lifted the heavy cloth covering his mouth and touched his ear to say, "Is everybody in position?"
His earpiece vibrated, "Affirmative, Captain. Control has your position. Lieutenant Kelly is directly ahead of you at the southeast corner of the stage."
Victor Cojo looked up in the sky, squinting to see if he could make out any sign of his ship, the Samsara. There was nothing but sickly-looking, muddy green skies. "You guys are still up there, right?"
Another voice grumbled, "No, human. The idea of battle terrified me too much and I begged Sgt. Buehl to take me home."
"We'll be there, Captain," Bob Buehl said over the radio. "I can have this ship on the ground within four seconds. Monster might not like it much, but that's why I put airsick bags under his seat."
"Perhaps if I was doing something more than babysitting your pilot and spaceship, you would know better than to ask, Captain Cojo."
Vic moved through the crowd carefully, edging past old women who strained to see and parents holding small children. Vic lowered his head and said, "I'm pretty sure a mantipor would stand out in this crowd, Monster." He stopped and lifted his head, looking for how far he was from Frank Kelly's position and caught sight of a man in a dark suit walking up the steps of the stage, surrounded by Ischion guards. The reptiles' reaction was instantaneous. Vic dropped to the dirt behind a wall of people, cursing violently under his breath.
"What the hell just happened?" Frank said into his earpiece.
"I almost saw the target."
"Are you serious?" Frank said. "All this goddamn planning and you almost saw the freaking target?"
"Shut up and tell me what happened."
"Those lizard things all shot up straight in the air for a second, looking in your direction. Did you get a look at the guy?"
"No," Vic said.
"Well good, because that's probably the only reason you aren't lizard chow right now."
"All right, I'm coming your way," Vic said. He took a deep breath and got back to his feet, careful to keep his eyes on the ground as he continued forward. "I thought you said these things were stupid, Bob."
"No, I said they are visual empaths," Buehl replied. "They can only see images, not interpret them. Right now they're only scanning for people with intent on harming the mayor. If you don't have a picture of him in your mind, they should be clueless."
"Should be?" Vic said.
"I just love my job," Frank said dryly. "The mayor is standing at the podium now. There are four lizards in my direct line of fire."
Suddenly one of the Ischion spun to look at Frank, hissing as it lowered itself on its haunches, coiling like a viper prepared to strike. Frank covered his face with his hand and looked down at the ground, forcing himself to think over and over that he was not there to hurt anyone. "I have a gun, but I will not use it," Frank repeated over and over.
"What was that?" Vic said.
"Nothing!" Frank whispered. He glanced up to see that the Ischion was now just a few feet away from him, standing close enough for Frank to make out the jagged edges of its foot claws, but the thing was now flicking its tongue in different directions, searching the rest of the crowd. Frank breathed and said, "Just get your ass up here and let's finish this."
Mayor Forrester looked out over the crowd and said, "People of Tradyllia, I have come before you today to answer the completely false allegations leveled against my administration by Unification. I swear by my ancient ancestors that I have never, nor would I ever, allow the citizens of this territory to be experimented on. It goes against everything we believe in as a people."
The faces in the crowd were unmoved.
"Make the sign!" someone shouted.
"If his words be true, let him make the sign of the ancients!"
The Ischion guards shifted nervously around the Mayor, tugging on him to pull him away from the podium. He shook them off and said, "People of Tradyllia, I have served you loyally for ten years. I will not validate these baseless charges by Unification interlopers by desecrating our most sacred ways."
"Liar!" a woman in the back screamed.
"He's gonna run," Frank said into his microphone.
"No he isn't," Vic said just as he came up behind Frank and thrust his hand into the small of the Lieutenant's back to grab the submachine weapon strapped there. He came up with the gun in one hand, pulling the trigger just as it cleared Frank's head, punching holes in the flesh of the Ischion reptiles even as they opened their jaws to screech at him. Vic sprayed the weapon, sending chunks of lizard meat and blue-tinged blood into the air as he raced forward and leapt onto the stage.
Mayor Forrester cowered under his podium, mewling, "I didn't know! I didn't know what those bastards were going to do. They said it would save lives. Don't kill me. I'll give you their names, show you how to find them. I'll take you to them!"
Vic raised the weapon to the side of the mayor's head and said, "We killed them two days ago, Mayor. After they told us how to find you." He squeezed the trigger and the side of Mayor Forrester's temple cracked like the thick rind of a watermelon after someone pitched if off a rooftop. The gun's shot echoed with finality over the silent crowd. Vic took his finger off the trigger and moved to hold the gun up and show them that he meant them no harm when he saw an Ischion foot raised directly at his face, its claw poised to tear out his throat. Vic turned his head just as the claw snagged on the heavy cloth around his neck and shredded the fabric like tissue. The creature's alien screech of outrage was louder than the gunshot Vic turned and fired into its chest.
Frank waved for Vic to get off the stage, shouting, "Go, go, go! They're coming down hot!" He turned and ran into the crowd, flapping his hands wildly, "Get out of the way! Everybody get out of the way!"
The Samsara's thrusters glowed white hot as the ship dropped from the atmosphere, coming in so fast and hard that swarms of dust swirled up from the ground and formed into small cyclones. Panic set in and people stampeded over one another, forgetting the old and young that surrounded them, and simply trying to get out of the way. Vic leapt down from the stage into the fray, charging through the crowd shouting for them to run but his v
oice was swallowed by the engines' roar.
He stopped walking just as the ship's landing gear touched down at the other end of the field. The engines were now a low, soft whine but he could see Bob Buehl looking at him through the cockpit with wide, horrified eyes. No, Vic thought. Not looking at me. Vic turned around slowly and saw dozens of Ischion reptiles gathering in front of the stage, hissing at him with wide open mouths. Hot venom spilled down from their fangs, covering the stage in slime. All of them intermittently turned their heads and stabbed their air with their tongues, searching the thoughts of the crowd, close enough for Vic to smell their putrid breath.
All of the creatures was within easy striking distance of his gun, but how many of them were willing to die just to give the others a chance to reach him. In just a few yards, they'd be close enough to leap on top of him with their claws ready to dissect his anatomy. Vic knew running was useless. The moment he tried, he'd feel their claws slicing through his spine and their jaws tearing chunks out of his meat.
"Ships weapons locked on hostiles, Captain," Bob Buehl said into the earpiece. "But you have to get out of the way."
"I don't think that's an option, Bob," Vic said. "The second I move, they're going to turn me into a fifth grade biology class." He looked at the crowd of lizards and said, "Do you talk?"
They only hissed and flicked their tongues at him defiantly.
"That's right," Vic nodded. "You read images. Tell you what," he said, lifting his weapon up as he spoke. He ripped out the half-empty magazine and replaced it with a fresh one in one, fluid motion. "I'm gonna think about something and you let me know how you feel about it."
Grendel Unit Page 16