Chaotic Futures, page 17
Still, Terexick’s uppermost concern was to wonder what success would mean. He envisioned two outcomes. The Krackus would write off the Shabilex system and never return, or, they would return with an abundance of warriors who would be thirsty for sport against unarmed civilians.
“You’re worrying again,” Sebford asked, catching the rebel leader mulling over new reports. When Terexick did no more than mutter an affirmative, he added, “I’ve news that will make you hurry your preparations. Three warriors entered a school.”
“The commanders said those types of attacks would always be off limits,” Terexick objected in horror.
“Apparently, not anymore,” Sebford replied. “Instructors rushed the warriors, buying time for most of the young to escape. We lost three-quarters of the school’s staff.”
Terexick examined his recruits’ total numbers and made a decision. “We go in three cycles.” Later, he would learn how opportune his pronouncement was to the attack’s timing.
After the school’s massacre, both sides pulled back from the hostilities.
The Krackus directors implored the Radag commanders to cease their retributions. They argued that the citizens had probably learned their lessons.
From the civilians’ viewpoints, there were many leaders telling their constituents to stop the violence. It was only leading to more atrocities, such as what had befallen the teachers and youths in the school.
There followed several cycles of relative quiet, which is just what the rebels needed to prepare their injectors and other equipment and amass for their attacks.
Across the home world and on outposts, squad leaders watched their chronometers for the moment to initiate their actions. Everything was to be coordinated with the timing of Terexick’s attack on the central admin building.
The citizens’ lull had allowed Radag commanders to pull their warriors off their roving patrols that had led to the increase in Shabilex deaths. Instead, the warriors weren’t allowed to travel far from their bases.
Without the roving patrols, the rebel leaders and their recruits were able to assemble in relative safety. They donned their hidden gear, loaded their first rails, turned on one another’s compressed air tanks, and picked up their shields.
The outpost actions were more difficult for the rebels to accomplish. They were housed separately from the Radags’ domes or underground quarters. However, maintenance crews were on duty around the chronometer. That allowed the rebels to have insiders, as it were.
Donning environment suits, if necessary, the attackers crossed airless surfaces or slunk through corridors cut from rock.
Terexick had specified to the outpost leaders not to be too critical of the start time. As he put it to those teams, “If you’re ready a little early, and you’re in position, then you must attack.”
On a station on the far rim, the base was deep underground, while the excavation and smelting took place on the surface of a planetoid.
The attackers arrived at a hatch that blocked access to the squad leader and the warriors’ living quarters.
A maintenance tech overrode the safety lock. Then he quickly stepped away.
One by one, the attackers slipped through the hatch, and they stationed themselves at the cabin doors that lined the corridor.
The rebel leader’s five-finger countdown was interrupted by the exit of a warrior from his cabin. Of all the reasons that the warrior interrupted the assault, he had chosen that moment to relieve himself. Such are the ways that good plans get turned upside down.
The warrior’s training and reflexes exceeded that of the closest rebel recruit. A blade slipped into his hand, as he knocked aside the recruit’s shield. A quick slash of the blade opened the Shabilex’s throat.
The rebel leader, a door farther way, swiveled and put a metal bolt through the warrior’s ear. But he was a little late. The warrior had managed to shout a warning.
“Fire through the doors,” the leader yelled.
Panicked by first contact with the enemy, the recruits loosed bolts one after another. Most managed to fire five or six metal rods through the doors. That preserved the attack’s possibility of success. Although, the same couldn’t be said for the attackers.
Only three warriors made it out of their cabins, and two had rods sticking from their bodies.
Nonetheless, with close quarter fighting, the warriors possessed far superior techniques, and they felled the nearby attackers quickly.
The rebel leader managed to gather two of his team and back toward the corridor’s hatch.
“Fresh cartridges,” the leader said urgently. As soon as he saw his companions reloaded, he did the same. It was about the time that the warriors eliminated the last of the rebels close to them.
Then the three Radags turned to face the three Shabilexes.
“Drop your shields,” the leader yelled. When he kicked his shield forward, the others did the same. “Center mass shots, and don’t stop until your cartridge is empty.”
The three warriors carried a total of seven rods in various parts of their bodies, but there was bloodlust in their eyes. To their great exultation, they were engaged in the kind of fight that they had wanted all their lives.
The leader had noticed how the warriors had anticipated the squeeze of the injector triggers to dodge the metal bolts.
“Let them get close, and swing your injectors to follow their evasions,” the leader whispered.
Growling, the warriors advanced down the corridor.
The two recruits noticed the warriors tracking their injectors, which explained their leader’s directive to watch for their quick twists and turns to evade the bolts.
The rebels never got a chance to empty their cartridges.
The warriors’ rush was over quickly.
The recruit to the left of the rebel leader squeezed his trigger and saw the warrior flatten against the rock wall. As the injector hissed, he swung it toward the warrior. The rod went through an eye and into the brain.
The other recruit chose to feign a jammed injector. The warrior in front of him rushed to end the fight, and the recruit yanked up the injector and fired. The warrior was committed in his attack and unable to evade the rod that pierced his heart.
The rebel leader’s warrior stepped on one of the shields and slipped. He went face down near the leader’s feet. As quickly as possible, the leader put a bolt in the base of the warrior’s neck.
Fourteen Shabilexes had attacked a Radag squad leader and eight warriors. Of the total of twenty-three individuals, only three rebels survived.
At most outposts, the results were similar.
However, one location ended as the rebel leader fired his injector against the final warrior’s chest. Unfortunately, the warrior had managed to deliver a lethal blow to the rebel. At that mining facility, none of the rebels or warriors survived.
Across the planet, timing of the attacks was critical. If a team attacked early, an alarm could be sent and received in an extremely short period of time, ruining the element of surprise for other teams.
Due to the distance of the outposts from the home world, none of the rebels’ hard-won intelligence could be sent in time to help the planet’s teams.
Within moments of the start of the outpost attacks, the planetside rebels entered the various buildings where the majority of Radags still slept. They made their way into back rooms, up stairways, or rode elevators to upper floors.
Terexick and Sebford’s strategy of overwhelming the squads with superior numbers had become critical, as the outpost survivors could have testified.
The dawn was barely complete by the time the system’s Radags were completely defeated.
The Shabilex system had been eradicated of every Radag, but another nearly three hundred locals had joined the ranks of the recently deceased.
The rest of the planet awoke to the news of what the rebels had accomplished. A minority feared retribution, but the vast majority cheered the win.
Within a few cycles, manufacturing plants across the home world and on the outposts were churning out various forms of weaponry to use against the Radags, if they returned.
As for the Krackus, the rebel leaders had to fight to protect them.
Terexick, who was now hailed as a hero, broadcast many times a cycle that harming a Krackus could bring the wrath of peacekeeper imperators down on their planet. His speeches quickly cooled tempers to the point of leaving the Krackus with only bruises.
However, the citizens had no intention of coddling their dethroned overseers.
The Krackus business individuals on outposts were placed aboard freighters and transports with groups of rebels, and the imperators were told to make for the Shabilex home world.
When the freighters and transports arrived above Shabilex, shuttles launched from the planet to evacuate the planet’s Krackus.
Part of the ignominy that the Krackus suffered was that they were forced to leave every personal possession behind.
When the Imperium transports and freighters contained every single Krackus in the system, the rebels exited the ships. They took every shuttle as partial payment for the atrocities the populace had suffered.
Terexick delivered a final message to the imperators. He said, “Tell the executors that they will never take this system again. We’ll fight until the last citizen. Even if your Radag forces are sufficient to defeat us, you’ll have an entire system to run by yourself. That is, of course, if we leave anything standing.”
14: Where’s the Warship?
IMPERIUM, PALTUR SYSTEM
KRACKUS HOME WORLD
Doktorg hadn’t any preconceived notions about his request to have only volunteers sail with him. He knew that the search for the monstrous warship would be a long, lonely process. As well, he had no idea whether they would ever find the warship, active or as a derelict with the dead aboard.
What Doktorg wasn’t prepared for was to be sitting in his apartment fourteen cycles after the assembly meeting without receiving a single volunteer. It was depressing.
When Doktorg heard his device signal that someone was at his door, he dried his hands, left the tiny kitchen, and tapped the interior panel to open the door. To his surprise, his declinator stood there. He’d been with Doktorg when they’d lost the peacekeeper to the Trident on the frontier.
Doktorg stuck his head out the door and peered down the corridor.
“Apologies, Doktorg,” Khartagh said, “It’s only me.”
“Still, you’re welcome,” Doktorg replied and ushered his friend inside.
The pleasantries were observed until the conversation ran down.
“How many volunteers do you have?” Khartagh asked.
“You’re looking at him,” Doktorg replied desultorily.
“I was surprised to hear that you volunteered to search for the warship, but I guess you had your reasons,” Khartagh said.
“I did,” Doktorg replied. “It kept the executors from sending out the commanders.”
“So you sacrificed yourself to protect the fleet imperators who were with you,” Khartagh surmised.
“We had a lot of time together under difficult circumstances. They’ve my respect. Furthermore, they’ve families, and I don’t,” Doktorg added.
“Tell me, what do you intend to do?” Khartagh asked.
Something in the way his old declinator asked the question brought Doktorg out of his depression.
“I’m not sure,” Doktorg said carefully. “I know that we didn’t eliminate the warship.”
“I saw vids. It looked like a wreck. At least, its engines did,” Khartagh pointed out.
“You’d have had to have dealt with the warship’s imperator,” Doktorg countered. “He was a resourceful commander. I think if anyone might have saved the warship, then I’m thinking he did.”
“How?” Khartagh pressed.
“I don’t know,” Doktorg replied, gurgling and shrugging his shoulders.
“Back to my question,” Khartagh pressed.
“I would search along the line that the warship took to enter the dark,” Doktorg explained.
“That could have been a random direction based on the difficulty to orient the ship with the damaged engines,” Khartagh argued.
“No, no way,” Doktorg protested. “I’ve studied the data recordings from my peacekeeper. That warship took a deliberate turn to come to a new course. The commander had a destination in mind.”
“Do you think the ship was able to clear Imperium space?” Khartagh queried.
“I doubt it,” Doktorg replied. “That’s why I think the warship is still within empire space.”
“Then you expect to find it?” Khartagh offered.
“Eventually,” Doktorg replied. Then he settled into his chair. His declinator came to him for a reason, and he’d yet to express it.
“When you find the warship, do you intend to record it before you dispatch it?” Khartagh inquired.
“I haven’t made up my mind,” Doktorg responded.
Khartagh regarded his previous superior. Many times, he’d seen the expression that Doktorg wore now. It meant that he had an idea that wouldn’t be easily accepted by others.
“I’m going to need more than that,” Khartagh urged.
“Why?” Doktorg asked.
“I believe I can get you some volunteers,” Khartagh said. “Could you sail a peacekeeper with less than a complete crew?”
“Who would want to board a ship with the Krackus who lost nearly a half a fleet of peacekeepers?” Doktorg challenged.
“Many from your old crew, including me,” Khartagh returned.
Doktorg sat upright. “I envision three possible options for this journey,” he explained. “Number one, we never find the warship. That’s a problem in itself. Number two, we find a ruined ship with many dead aboard.”
“And number three?” Khartagh queried.
“The warship has found a safe haven, and the commander is attempting to repair it,” Doktorg replied.
“Then it could still be dangerous,” Khartagh pointed out.
“It’s possible, but we’d have to determine what active capabilities the warship possesses,” Doktorg reasoned.
“Why aren’t you committing to the warship’s destruction?” Khartagh asked bluntly.
“Let me ask you what you think about the conclave’s actions?” Doktorg inquired.
Khartagh was caught off guard by the question, but he remembered this had frequently occurred when he’d sailed with Doktorg. For a brief moment, he considered the question was a trap, but he just as quickly disregarded that thought.
“It’s hard to say,” Khartagh began. “When the strangers arrived, I accepted the general line that these were invaders who had to be repelled. Over time, I’ve heard and read many reports that conflict with fleet headquarters. If these invaders are so dangerous and possess such superior ships, why aren’t they devastating our worlds?”
“You know that a conclave leader visited this planet and met with the assembly, correct?” Doktorg asked.
“I heard that,” Khartagh replied. “Doesn’t that mean that the conclave has the ability to capture Imperium?”
“That’s a logical conclusion,” Doktorg said. Then he waited for Khartagh to connect the dots.
“Then what does the conclave want?” Khartagh asked. Suddenly, it hit him. “You don’t see the conclave as invaders, do you?” Before Doktorg could answer, he gulped and added, “You think of us as the invaders. Does that mean you see the warship in the same light?”
“I can’t say that what I believe about the conclave is true for the warship, but that’s something I’d like to talk to the commander about,” Doktorg replied.
Khartagh’s beak dropped open and remained there, while he considered what had just been exchanged. Then he blurted out, “Suppose you found the warship, and suppose the commander and his citizens are still alive. How do you expect to communicate with them? That’s supposing the commander wants to speak with you.”
“I can communicate to the commander with images to let him know who I am,” Doktorg replied, gurgling. “Then he’ll definitely want to talk to me. As to how we’ll speak to each other, that may take some time.”
“I know you. You’ve got a plan,” Khartagh said, rudely pointing a finger. “I thought your hubris had crushed your career when we charged that tri-hull, but it did manage to make you humble. After that, you started using your mental agility for others instead of yourself.”
“An accurate summation,” Doktorg allowed. “And, yes, I’ve a plan. I’ve been sitting in this apartment with nothing to do but plan.”
“Tell me, and I’ll deliver a good portion of your old peacekeeper crew,” Khartagh promised.
Doktorg eyed Khartagh. Then he grabbed his device, tapped on it, and heard Khartagh’s device beep.
Khartagh examined the many images in the message he’d received. After a moment’s reflection, he perceived Doktorg’s plan, and he gurgled loudly. “You want to bribe the warship commander to talk to you by offering materials he’ll need to rebuild his warship.”
“It’s my best idea,” Doktorg responded, shrugging apologetically.
“Of course, the commander could be a devious individual,” Khartagh offered. “You help him repair his ship. He launches it, and then he blows us into space debris.”
“That’s a definite possibility. However, when the warship is close to being spaceworthy, I don’t intend to have my ship near it,” Doktorg said.
“Do you think you can get the executors to give you his material?” Khartagh asked.
Doktorg held a finger to pause the conversation. Then he said, “Governor.”
“I require services for a full peacekeeper crew to be prepared for delivery within ...” Doktorg paused and regarded his friend, who held up seven digits. “Six cycles.”
“Can you tell the future, Governor?” Doktorg inquired.
