Empires gambit, p.38
Empire's Gambit, page 38
For a further ten minutes, Pershing’s troops secured about half of the town as they surrounded the entrance to the shrine. There was an open area of just over half a kilometer between the town’s borders and the shrine itself. The outer half of the area was now pocketed with six large craters where Drake’s tungsten spears had devastated the outer semi-circular wall the Karacknids had built. Another ten minutes passed as the two additional divisions that had been landed moved up to join Pershing’s forces. Then the marine General sent a message to Johnston to inform him that everything was ready to match their attack. With every one of his staff officers staring at him, Johnston hesitated for a moment. Though he racked his brain, he couldn’t think of one good reason why the Karacknids wouldn’t be resisting harder. If it was a trap, he’d just have to spring it and see what happened. “Proceed,” he ordered with a nod.
At once, six more tungsten spears were launched by Drake. They didn’t do any damage to the two inner walls, but they did strike the open area between Johnston’s troops and the shrine. Fresh clouds of debris and dust billowed up into the air. Into the dust, the marines and Gramrians fired chaff grenades, tank rounds, and hyper velocity missiles as they struck at the Karacknid’s second wall. Then the ground forces advanced. Within a minute, the second wall had been penetrated at several points. The Karacknid resistance was minimal. As the forces that had broken through fired fresh munitions at the final wall, they were met with more significant return fire. Still, as Johnston watched the mounting losses his forces were suffering, he couldn’t help but feel that they were getting off very lightly. Just three minutes after the attack was launched, the first special forces marines vaulted the inner wall. Johnston watched from one of their visual feeds as the marine spewed plasma bolts along the inner wall, cutting down multiple Karacknids. As more marines and Gramrians broke through the Karacknid defensive line, the battle turned into a rout. To Johnston’s shock, Karacknids abandoned their positions and began to flee towards the shrine’s single entrance. Almost all of them were easily cut down by his ground troops weapons’ fire.
Just as Johnston would have, Pershing used the Karacknid retreat to cover his own advance. Special forces marines and Gramrians raced across the final few hundred meters to the shrine’s entrance. Their leading squads actually reached the entrance just as the final few fleeing Karacknids did. The result was a bloodbath. Unable to shoot past their own fleeing soldiers, the Karacknids defending the opening found themselves face-to-face with marines and Gramrian warriors. In the space of less than twenty seconds, fifty Karacknids were killed and the long tunnel that led into the shrine’s first large chamber was secure.
What Johnston saw next made his mouth fall open. The first chamber of the shrine was massive. Far larger than the one his forces had entered at the Karacknid sector capital. There, there had been one large statue of the Karacknid Imperator. Now, he was looking at many of them. There were at least twenty, ten on each side of the long chamber. Each one looked across the chamber towards its counterpart as if they were guarding the path towards the inner parts of the shrine. As impressive as the statutes were, that wasn’t what had grabbed Johnston’s attention. Standing in the midst of the statutes, facing the force of marines and Gramrians, there was one unarmed Karacknid. He was hunched over and for a Karacknid, looked old and decrepit. Yet his hands were raised, palms outward as if he was ordering Pershing’s forces to halt. Focusing on his hands, Johnston realized that the Karacknid had no claws. In fact, as he looked closer, it was clear the Karacknid wasn’t even wearing any kind of battle armor. Then the Karacknid spoke. “Please kill no more of my people. We surrender. We want no more bloodshed.”
For several seconds, Johnston was frozen in place. His mind was struggling to process what he was seeing and hearing. Not once in six years of fighting and countless battles had a Karacknid surrendered. It had been so long since he had fought a foe where the idea was even a possibility that he had to shake himself to give the orders he needed. “Send word to General Pershing. He is to accept this Karacknid’s surrender. I don’t want any more fighting unless we’re fired upon until we figure out what’s going on.”
“Yes General,” one of his COM officers answered.
“We are getting hailed by Drake,” another reported. “Admiral Somerville wishes to speak with you.”
Of course he does, Johnston thought to himself as he stared at the image of the Karacknid holding its hands up in surrender. He is going to want to go and see this for himself, Johnston knew his friend. He understood. He felt exactly the same.
Chapter 30
War often makes for strange bedfellows.
-Excerpt from Empire Rising 3002 AD.
When James stepped off his shuttle onto the surface of the Karacknid colony, he was greeted by General Johnston and a squad of marines that James assumed were acting as his bodyguards. As James moved forward to shake Johnston’s hand, the twelve Imperial Guards that had followed him from Drake fanned out and took up defensive positions. “I guess it’s going to be pretty difficult for either of us to go anywhere unnoticed?” Johnson asked as he gestured at the marines and Imperial Guard that surrounded them.
James shrugged his shoulders. “I doubt there’s any way we are going to be able to get rid of them. Christine and Clare would be happy though. Shall we get going?”
“Of course,” Johnston said as he turned and looked towards the large Karacknid Shrine that dominated the town in front of them. “General Pershing tells me the Karacknid leader who surrendered calls himself a scribe. I guess that’s fitting for a Shrine. In any case, he is waiting for us. This way.” With a wave of his hand for James to follow, Johnston set off towards the Karacknid town. The marines and Imperial Guard moved ahead, keeping a constant vigil.
As they entered the town, James peered around, taking everything in. This was the first time he had set foot on a Karacknid world. Even if it was quite different from the others they had attacked; he was no less interested.
“It’s not terribly impressive,” Johnston commented as he saw James studying the buildings.
“No,” James agreed. “Though they look functional enough. They just lack the modern feel and tactical design of other Karacknid buildings. I guess that ties in well with this Scribe surrendering. Whoever lives in this town doesn’t appear to have the same warrior mindset of all the other Karacknids we have encountered. Their orbital station was the same. It lacked any offensive weapons and many of the design features modern Karacknid stations have.”
“Modern? So it was old?” Johnston asked.
James nodded. “The techs that are investigating it estimate it is over seven hundred years old. The computer hardware and software are centuries old, even by our standards.”
“What about this town?” Johnston followed up as he gestured at a nearby building. “What are the odds that it was built around the same time? Nothing is crumbling or falling apart, but it looks like it’s been here a long time all the same.”
“You may be right,” James said. They paused when they came to the inner edge of the town that faced the Karacknid Shrine. Multiple craters pocketed the open space in front of them. The remains of the three walls the Karacknids had built were also visible, though there was barely a ten-meter section that didn’t have a hole blasted into it. James surveyed the battle scene for a few moments, his eyes were quickly drawn to the shrine though. Standing at ground level, he guessed it was at least thirty stories high. He already knew there were nearly as many levels built underground. “It is impressive,” he had to admit. Even the Imperial Palace back on Earth did not compare in terms of size. Though the Palace was far more beautiful. The shrine, apart from a single entrance, looked like one giant rock that had been smoothed into the oval-shaped edifice that it was.
“I’m just glad they surrendered as soon as we breached it,” Johnston said. “The place is like a rabbit warren. If they had wanted to fight, they could have run rings round my troops for hours.”
“Then I guess we have the scribe to thank,” James replied as he started moving forward again.
When they came to the first of the Karacknids’ defensive walls, a path had been cleared through the rubble for them to step through. At the second and third ones though, they had to climb up over them. As they did, Johnston stopped and went over to examine a fallen soldier. When he stood, he was holding its weapon. “This certainly is not standard issue.” He then fiddled with it for a few seconds. “It’s a laser rifle, but it can’t have the same power of standard Karacknid weapons. If I had to guess, I’d say this is centuries old as well.” He then bent down over the Karacknid soldier. “And that’s not battle armor the Karacknid is clad in. I’d hesitate to call it armor at all.”
“This is no normal Karacknid world,” James said. “If we hadn’t seen what all the other Karacknid colonies were like, I’d say this is what a Karacknid civilian town and militia should feel like. Yet we know on their other worlds, every one of their citizens is trained to fight.”
Johnston nodded and then threw the weapon back on the ground. Knowing they were only going to get answers within the shrine, they both moved forward again. When they came to the tunnel that led into the shrine, James couldn’t help but feel a little claustrophobic walking down it. If it wasn’t for the marines and Gramrians visible at its far end, he would be fearful Karacknids could ambush them at any moment. When they got to the end of the tunnel, James recognized one of the marines. “General Pershing,” he said as he saluted the commander of the ground forces. “Congratulations on a successful mission. You have quite the find here.”
“Thank you Admiral, I’ll pass on your sentiments to my troops,” Pershing said. He half turned and gestured deeper into the large chamber. “The Head Scribe is waiting for us at the other end of the chamber. I took him to speak to his people to assure them that we would not harm anyone that did not resist our search of the building. I have already sent your technicians ahead with marine escorts. We have located several important looking data centers. Though it appears that the vast majority of the information held in this shrine is in written format. There are hundreds of massive rooms filled with scrolls upon scrolls.”
James shared a glance with Johnston. He still had no answers, but the riddle was getting curiouser and curiouser. “Let us go speak with this Head Scribe,” he said, gesturing for Pershing to lead the way. As they walked, his attention was grabbed by the first two massive statues that were looking at him from his left and right. At first glance, James thought they were of the same Karacknid, but upon closer inspection there were subtle differences. It was the same with the next pair and the next. James found himself shaking his head as they passed Karacknid after Karacknid. Each statue was over fifty meters high. The detailing on them was precise. Certainly, precise enough to make each Karacknid seem terribly imposing. Are they important Karacknid commanders, or some kind of aristocracy? James wondered. Or are they all Imperators, he thought when he got to the end of the long chamber and recognized the final statue on his right. It was of the Karacknid Imperator. Taranaki. Yet the Imperator’s eyes looked normal. There certainly wasn’t any kind of red alluring glow described by the marines that had entered the other shrine they had captured.
“Emperor Somerville, may I introduce to you High Scribe Fralin-yang,” Pershing said as he came to a halt.
Looking down from the statue of the Imperator, James couldn’t have been confronted with a greater contrast. Where the Imperator looked large and confident with bulging muscles and long, razor-sharp claws, the High Scribe had none of those things. Hunched over, one of his hands held a wooden walking stick while the other clung close to his chest. On the backs of his knuckles, James could see there were scars, presumably where the scribes’ claws had once been. Though his clothes weren’t particularly tight, it was still obvious the scribe lacked the muscular body that James was used to seeing on a Karacknid. If these were the kinds of Karacknids we were fighting against, the war would be over in a month, James concluded. Still, he didn’t underestimate the High Scribe. He had been involved in politics on Earth long enough to know that there are more ways than one for an opponent to be dangerous. “Thank you,” James said to Pershing with a nod. “And let me introduce myself to you, High Scribe Fralin-yang. I am Emperor Somerville of the Human species, I command the battlefleet that has captured this system. When you surrendered, you were surrendering to me. I have come here in person because I wish to speak with you. My war against your people is not one of conquest, nor one of taking prisoners or slaves. We fight to ensure the freedom of our species and our neighbors. Are you willing to converse with me?”
The scribe stared at James for what seemed like an eternity. When he spoke, it was barely above a whisper. “Emperor? That is the title you claim for yourself?”
“No,” James answered. “It is the title my people have given me. If it was not for your species’ attack on mine, I would want nothing to do with it.”
“And yet, you carry it well. I have not met many other aliens, but rare is it to meet ones willing to stand up to my people… To answer your question, yes, I will converse with you. If for no other reason, there are questions I wish answered. For one, how have you come to be here? How have you brought a fleet so deep into my species’ territory? And who exactly are your species, anyway?”
James smiled at the old Karacknid’s tone; despite being the defeated party, he made it sound like James was the one groveling for an audience. I guess in one sense I am, he admitted to himself. He wanted answers, too. “I will make you a deal, scribe, you answer one of my questions and I will answer one of yours.”
The scribe peeled back his lips to show his distinctly Karacknid teeth. “You are a strange species. But perhaps you are wiser than you look. That is a game no Karacknid warrior would engage in. Yet I am no warrior.”
James couldn’t help but chuckle. “You speak the truth. The last Karacknid I tried to speak to in person spat in my face. That, and many threats as to the particularly gruesome nature of my impending death was all the conversation we had.”
Fralin-yang didn’t seem to hear what James said. Instead, he slowly lowered himself to his knees and then sat on his bum. Folding his legs under him, he placed his staff across his knees. Only then did he look back up at James. With one hand, he waved towards the floor. “If we are to have a conversation, then you may make yourself comfortable. I promise, I will not spit on you, no matter how little I like your questions or answers.”
James shared another glance with Johnston. Whatever either of them had been expecting, this certainly wasn’t it. “All right,” he said as he sat down on the chamber’s floor for himself. “How old is this Shrine, and what is its purpose?”
The scribe showed James his teeth again. “That is two questions, Emperor. I’ll take your first. It was built over a millennia ago. One thousand one hundred and ninety-two years, to be exact. I am its twelfth Head Scribe. Now, you tell me, why have you desecrated such a holy site? Have you no concern for that which is sacred?”
James felt torn in two directions. He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the question and get angry at the same time. He did neither. Summoning his inner Christine, he betrayed no outward sign of his emotions. The scribe was trying to bait him. James knew that as a Captain or even young Admiral, it might very well have worked. Not any longer. “Your species has conquered and enslaved hundreds of civilizations. You have destroyed their temples, shrines, and holy sites. We gave you a chance to surrender, you did not take it. As far as I am concerned, you forfeited any right you might have to keep my troops and I from this building.”
The scribe looked down at the floor for several seconds, then he looked back up. “I suppose I must concede your point. Though I have not thought much upon it before. There have no doubt been countless scribes or holy men from other species that have felt the same indignation I do now. Yet it reminds me of an ancient saying among my people, one that few Karacknids today know of. It goes like this; ‘Two wrongs do not make a right.’”
James smiled. “We have the same saying. ‘Two wrongs do not make a right…’ That is true. But we did not come here seeking to make something right. I came here for information. Tell me, what is the purpose of this place?”
Fralin-yang lifted his hands and gestured towards the large statues. “Isn’t it obvious? This shrine is dedicated to the glory and the great achievements of the Karacknid people. Each statue you see marks our past Imperators and commemorates the conquests they accomplished on behalf of our people.” The scribe then gestured behind him. “Within our inner vaults are the records of all the great deeds our people have done.”
