The kitaran gambit, p.28
The Kitaran Gambit, page 28
“Don’t shoot!” a voice squeaked back.
She watched from cover as the double doors slowly opened, revealing a well-dressed, middle aged man and two young females wearing servant’s uniforms holding their hands up. All three appeared terrified, tears streaming down the women’s faces.
Joos had a quick look at the room beyond while the bodyguards searched the three prisoners. “All clear. There’s a com-link unit in there, and it’s still powered up.”
Zuwe got close to the three while holstering her pistol. “Who are you?”
The gray haired man glanced back and forth before he began talking. “Are... are you the rebels?”
“We’re liberators. Now identify yourself.”
“I’m... I’m Lord Ojwang Gobelo. These are my maids.”
Zuwe nodded towards the two women. “You both are free to go.”
The maids nodded nervously before they ran off. Zuwe gestured at one of her men, and they promptly escorted the noble back inside the room. At first glance it appeared to be some kind of parlor, but with an attached chamber that displayed something else.
Zuwe took stock of both rooms. The parlor had stylized padded chairs, lacquered tables, and ancient musical instruments, while the adjoining room had a more office like feel, with industrial tables and consoles beside the com-link unit.
She turned towards the old man as Obet hurried over to one of the consoles and began typing on its keyboard. “Your com-link apparatus is military grade. Why would you need this in your own home?”
Despite being surrounded, Gobelo stiffened in obvious defiance. “I refuse to answer questions given by the lower classes. I demand to contact my lawyers.”
Joos angrily grabbed him by the throat and pinned him up against a nearby wall, eliciting a frightened yelp from the nobleman, and the smashing of an ancient porcelain vase when it fell off the table during the collision.
“Don’t hurt me!” he begged.
“I’ll gouge both your eyes out,” Joos growled. “Then I’ll flay you alive before throwing you to our war droogs.”
“That’s enough,” Zuwe said. Joos promptly backed off but remained ready to lunge once more. “Are you going to cooperate or not, milord?” she demanded sarcastically.
Gobelo continued to cower near the alcove by the shattered vase. “If... if I tell you everything, will you let me live?”
“We’ll see. Start talking, and if your information checks out, then I may just grant you your request.”
“Alright, alright. I run an interstellar trading business, as you well know. Since I constantly monitor my merchant fleet, I require more robust communications than the civilian models can give.”
Obet glanced back towards them. “It’s confirmed. I’m downloading archived messages from this unit. We’ve got proof that he’s in contact with Commander Grzesier.”
Gobelo fearfully shook his head. “How... how did you know about that?”
“He may be young, but he’s a machine prodigy,” Zuwe said. “It appears you are aiding both the Movement and the government forces, playing both sides off against it each other. That makes you a universal traitor, and you’ll be executed either way.”
The nobleman fell on his knees. “Please! Don’t do this! Like you I have a superior.”
Zuwe activated her wristcom’s audio recorder. “Give me names.”
“I report to Lady Ursula Syafei. She’s my most powerful ally in the capital world. We exchange information with the goings on throughout the entire cluster.”
Joos frowned. “She’s the archon’s spymistress, head of the intelligence ministry.”
Zuwe kept her eyes focused on the nobleman. “Is she aware that you aid the Movement too?”
Gobelo bowed his head. “Of course she does. We all do it. Your little rebellion wouldn’t have gotten this far without our help.”
“And yet you also provide intel to the government,” she said. “Does even a single noble in this cluster possess any honor at all?”
“Don’t you see, we had to maintain some ongoing conflict. War is good business after all. We sell weapons to both sides, just enough to keep it from stopping, and we all profit in the end.”
Joos appeared ready to tear the other man apart with his bare hands. “You nobles are worse than the slavers. If it were up to me, I’d feed you all to my war beasts.”
“And yet, none of your kind anticipated we were going to win,” Zuwe said.
“Something happened alright,” Gobelo admitted. “For years we had everything under control, but then the archon suddenly passed away, and the government bases in the Outback started falling, one by one. The leadership crisis in Mwenge really hurt us.”
Obet threw his arms up and yelled in triumph. “Compeers, you’re not going to believe what I just found! Take a look at this, there’s a message here from—”
A side door burst open, shocking everyone in the room as they reached for their weapons. Another group of rebels entered, led by none other than Grzesier himself.
Zuwe faced the newly-arrived group. “What are you doing here?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing, compeer,” Grzesier replied. “My Column is advancing, and this is in my designated zone, not yours.”
“I’m here because I’m following up on a hunch.”
“Oh? And what is that exactly?”
“We’ve intercepted signals from this place, directed at your very column,” she said. “You’re a traitor to the Movement, and we have the proof to show to the Council.”
The once hardened men standing beside her rival exchanged shocked looks in their faces. Both of Grzeiser’s lieutenants however appeared unmoved, their hands tightening their gripped weapons while keeping them pointed downwards. Zuwe hoped her bodyguards picked up on these subtleties.
Grzeiser scowled at her. “Watch what you say, compeer. If there is ever to be a trial, you shall be the one exposed as the quisling, not me.”
Obet bared his teeth while walking up to both of them. The youth waved a datachip he held in his fingers. “I have the proof right here, Turncoat. Once the Council gets wind of this, they’ll have no choice but to execute you.”
Grzeiser eyed the youth with utter disdain. “Why, you little punk. You think you’ve got proof? All you have is doctored evidence to create a false flag story. You can’t prove anything.”
“I can and I will,” Obet insisted. “I just found out who is really backing you up, and when this gets revealed, it will be lights out for you and that old hag you’ve been boning!”
The implication had evidently gotten to him, and Grzeiser’s face turned white. The pistol he’d been keeping low swung upwards, aiming towards the youth’s commander.
Zuwe reacted by bringing her own pistol to bear, but was too late. Shots and laser fire rang out, and once orderly scene quickly turned into chaos. She found herself being tackled into the ground, hearing many screams of pain. Something burned her right arm, and she too cried out while aiming at one of the enemy lieutenants firing at her people, before pulling the trigger.
The singeing agony proved too much, and she blacked out momentarily moments later. When Zuwe reopened her eyes, mere seconds had passed. The room was filled with smoke, along with groans of the wounded and the death rattles of the dying.
Joos had been hit in the stomach and ended up in sitting on the floor, yet he remained conscious, and continued to bark orders at his surviving companions. The nobleman had somehow survived unscathed, and he kept crawling along the ground like a worm trying to get away from an incoming boot stomp.
She glanced at her arm. The burn had singed through her right triceps, causing her to drop the pistol after firing it. She had endured worse injuries before and was confident of recovery, though it would leave a distinct scar though.
Grzeiser lay face up on the floor beside both his lieutenants. All three were dead, their pools of blood comingling with each other in one giant crimson puddle.
Zuwe turned while glancing sideways. “Obet, you were about to say something, when—”
She instantly fell silent upon seeing the youth lying on the floor beside her. His back was riddled with bullets, and it appeared he died instantly.
“He saved you,” Joos said hoarsely. “Pushed you into the ground just as they started shooting.”
She knelt down, holding Obet’s body up with one arm as tears began rolling down her cheeks. At the time they had first met a few years ago, she sensed there was something special about this particular youth, and figured he would make a good leader someday.
When it came to casualties, war always took the youngest and brightest of them all.
Chapter 51: Culminations
DESPITE THE NULL GRAVITY, Omari squirmed uneasily in his chair. The issue was not comfort but pride, and it was this little thing that kept his mind racing at the speed of light.
The Simba had just jumped in with the rest of the Kitaran Grand Fleet, and now the six vessels were repositioning themselves before accelerating towards Tooro in single line formation. The commanders had been debating whether the warlord’s designated flagship ought to be leading the group, or to let the Justus do it instead. The debate had gone on for hours, and had yet to be resolved when the assembled vessels finally made the jump.
Captain Jacques Welesley commanded the Simba, and he was sitting adjacent to the warlord within the vessel’s bridge. “Helm, accelerate to three gees, and we’ll take the lead. Order the other vessels to fall in behind us.”
The command was enough to snap Omari out of his sulk, and he looked up at the ship’s captain. “I think we ought to change seats.”
Welesley gave him a confused look. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You heard me. I want to change seats.”
“But I’m in the captain’s chair, milord. I am the commanding officer of this vessel after all.”
“Yes, but I’m the warlord,” Omari said. “I command the whole Grand Fleet. Therefore I ought to be sitting on the highest chair in the bridge.”
Welesley scratched the top of his balding head in obvious confusion. “No one is challenging your position, milord. I need to be on this chair in order to act as CO of this vessel.”
“You can do it from my chair. I need to be positioned higher than you.”
“There’s no need for that, milord. We’re in zero gee. Whoever is situated higher in this room won’t matter since we’re in space, and space is three dimensional, therefore—”
“It matters to me!” Omari growled. “Now get off of there.”
“If you want to appear higher than me, then you can just stand up, milord,” Welesley said. “There wouldn’t be any physical exertion involved since there’s no gravity.”
“No, I want to appear sitting, yet still remain the tallest in the room. Now git!”
Welesley bit his lip before he undid the straps from his chair and floated away. Several other officers situated nearby heard the exchange, and they exchanged silent glances with each other before resuming their tasks.
Omari pushed off, grabbing hold of the upper chair’s armrest and drew himself in. Tapping on the controls, he inflated the bottom cushion to maximum before sitting down on it.
BEING EXPELLED FROM a giant fish was a first, and it gave Hauk some weird vibes. What made the scene even more surprising was when Amantle jetted playfully right past him, his ally perched along the back of something that resembled an armored sea slug.
He had climbed inside one of the aquialae’s fleshy shafts mere moments ago, before the chamber was filled with rushing water. Hauk could hardly believe it when the sheer force of expelled liquid through this living organ before thrusting him out into the open ocean like a torpedo.
Deep shades of acid and dark green made visuals murky, and he instead used the tactical map and sonar for navigational guidance. They were almost at a depth of a hundred meters, and he could barely make out the box-shaped keel belonging to the barge as it began to moor alongside the island’s port.
Timing was crucial, because the island base had defensive turrets that would be taken offline to facilitate the barge’s docking process. Since they were the only ones in battle armor, both he and Strand, along with Thrax were assigned to disable the gun batteries, and they needed to do it quickly.
Zeno’s voice came over the encrypted com-link circuit. “Shore defenses are coming offline. I would suggest you begin your approach.”
“Roger that,” Strand said. “Execute now!”
Hauk activated his jump jet thrusters to full. Even though the Armatus suit wasn’t streamlined, the sheer power emanating from the thrusters propelled him through the water like a missile. Reaching the surface took mere seconds, the once murky depths quickly transforming into royal and then light blued hues, extending his field of vision ever further with each moment.
“Heads up,” Amantle said. “Whalepins detected our vehicle and their swarm is heading right for us.”
The boy’s first instinct was to turn around and help his colleagues, but cold hard logic told him he had other priorities. Zeno and the others were in a smaller submersible, and they would come under attack while heading for the surface. If he didn’t take out the fixed defenses before they reached shore, they would be slaughtered.
Breaching the surface, he shot up into the air, giving his suit’s sensors a few precious seconds to update the tactical map and pinpoint his targets. He caught a glimpse of Thrax flying past the surface a few klicks away, and was fairly certain the lieutenant was close by as well.
The barge was less than a hundred meters to his right, a heavy tarp covering her main deck. One of the anti-aircraft towers had temporarily taken their laser batteries and missile launchers offline, but were now quickly powering up again the moment the alarm had been sounded.
Hauk rapidly closed the distance to target, his grenade launchers making short work of a group of surprised guards lounging near the dock. Tapping on his missile launcher, he let loose with one that struck the base of the turret, but instead of an explosion, it just bore a hole into the casement instead.
“Oh, great,” he growled sarcastically. The missile was a dud, no doubt due to substandard materials. Now he had to do it the hard way.
Using the jump jets to make an assisted leap, he landed right next to the entryway leading inside the tower. The crew inside were in the process of sealing the blast door shut, but he quickly got in their way, knocking the thick metal panel open with a powered kick, sending one young soldier sprawling backwards in bone breaking agony.
Charging past the doorway, he made it inside. Hauk kept the gauss rifle on semi-auto, only blasting those right in front of him as he clambered up from one level to the next. With limited ordnance, it was always better to conserve ammunition than waste it against unarmored targets. The charge gauge on his lasers remained dangerously low, and he figured it was the batteries acting up again.
A pair of desperate guards at the topmost level tried to seal the hatch, forcing Hauk to fire another grenade that blew them off the floor into separate pieces. Another guard appeared behind him the moment Hauk climbed through the hatch, and made a suicidal charge to try and pin him into the ground.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said while knocking the guard across the room with one swipe of his arm. An adjacent doorway flew open, and two more soldiers fired at him with everything they had.
Hauk recoiled sideways, the paper thin left side of his armored suit barely deflecting the torrent of electrochemical charged slugs impacting against it. Why did they always manage to hit him in his vulnerable side?
Zeno had equipped his repaired suit with flamethrowers, and the boy promptly burned them to a crisp before continuing on. Reaching the tower’s topmost floor, he used his armored fists to smash the control panels as the panicking crew ran towards the emergency exits.
The boy shifted back and forth, weapons on the ready. Thank goodness no one else resisted, for he was tired of killing such hapless people.
A loud explosion sent his mind back to reality. One of the other towers must have come online, and he was needed over there. “Okay, onto the next one,” he whispered to himself, right before tearing a sealed shutter open and climbed out before engaging his jump jets once more.
INSIDE THE Nepenthe’s battlesphere, Commander Creull kept her yellow slitted eyes focused on the tactical map, scrutinizing every new detail. “The Grand Fleet is accelerating towards the planet at three gees. I count five cruisers and a battleship, plus numerous transport vessels.”
Dangard’s remained emotionless. “What formation are they using?”
“Parade column. It appears they’re trying to make a show of force rather than preparing for battle.”
“That’s weird,” Oana said. “If I was in System Defense, I wouldn’t be intimidated at all.”
“The archon’s fleet is appealing to their patriotism,” Dangard said. “It’s why they placed that museum piece at the front of their line.”
“We’re getting com-link chatter from the fleet,” Oana said. “They’re demanding statements of loyalty from every vessel in the area and the powering down of all weapons and drives. Those that do not reply will be treated as hostile.”
Creull turned towards her commanding officer. “Do we reply, Captain?”
“Not yet,” Dangard said. “We wait for what System Defense has to say first.”
INSIDE THE Simba’s bridge, Omari bared his teeth in contemptuous rage. “What did you just say?”
The male voice in the other com-link channel remained firm. “I shall repeat, Warlord. We have been taken advantage of too many times, and we demand more rights.”
“This is outrageous! You all swore an oath to remain loyal to the archon until death! What you’re demanding is tantamount to treason.”
“With all due respect, Warlord. You are not the archon.”
“Yes, I am!” he fumed. “Archon Baraka has passed, and the title therefore falls on to me.”
