Imprint of Blood

by Phil Huddleston

  Hecate shook her head. "No. But we got orders to go look. That will have to do."

  Andrea grinned, a fierce and wolfish grin. "Good. Let's go kill somebody."

  Hecate laughed, a hard thing to do so soon after her father's funeral, but if there was one thing she loved, it was Andrea Iona's bloodthirsty sense of humor. "Yes, Andrea. Let's go kill somebody. But first we have to find them!"

  620 Light Years Coreward from Earth

  Past the Pipe Nebula - Planet Danek

  Fleet Admiral Brunt stood on the Flag Bridge of the Bat Empire Navy battleship BEN Warmonger, looking through his viewer at the destroyed city of Kedan on the planet below. Little was left; the skeleton of an occasional building jutting crookedly into the sky, with here and there a stone wall that had survived the onslaught. Roiling destruction covered the landscape – the city was little but fire, smoke, ashes. He grinned, his bat-like ears perking up at the sight. "By the Stars, I live for this," he thought.

  Brunt was a typical upper-caste Bat. About two meters tall, he was lean and wiry, with light brown skin and dark gray fur - fur so short as to be almost invisible, as befitted a noble. His uniform was gray with red piping on the collar and sleeves, and stripes down the trouser legs. His cape was blood-red - worn only by officers who had conquered a planet and colonized it with new Bats. In one hand, he held a baton, used frequently to strike slaves and subordinate officers. In the other hand, he held a cup of a'kaff, the stiff, bitter drink almost every BEN officer drank constantly.

  "Sir," called his Chief of Staff, Captain Orantel, "All but one of the escaping ships have been destroyed. One of them got away, though."

  Brunt turned and looked across the bridge at him. "No matter. No planet to come back to. No place to go. Won't survive a week out there." He grinned even wider. "Let them go!" He laughed.

  His staff laughed with him. As soon as the fires and smoke died down, they would call for the colony ships. Then a myriad of young Bats would be building their dwellings on the planet below, living off the frozen, stacked corpses of the former inhabitants. Even now, gangs of slaves roamed the planet, collecting bodies and preparing them for refrigeration and storage. The young Bats brought in by the colony ships could live for two years on those stored bodies, giving them ample time to establish their colony.

  Brunt turned back to the viewer. It took them two days, but finally they had broken through the defenses of the Daneki. And then, once the defenses collapsed, they had spent another week tracking down and killing all the remaining inhabitants of the planet. Except for a few starships that ran at the last minute, none were left. And even those starships were pursued and destroyed. Except one. Brunt grunted. "No matter," he thought. "They'll die in the Pipe!"

  ***

  Far away, the small Daneki corvette Matador plummeted toward the Pipe Nebula, running cold and silent. Two dozen creatures huddled inside, short of food, air and water, praying to their Creator. Their star system had been only 50 light years from the Pipe Nebula, so they called themselves the Daneki - which in their language, meant 'People by the Smoke'. But their location near the nebula was not enough to escape the expanding empire of the Bats.

  An officer sat splay-legged on the floor of the corvette, giving up his seat to a pregnant female. His uniform, once gray, was covered with soot and ash. One of his arms was in a sling; his three-fingered hand was matted with dried blood. Not much different from a human in appearance, with mostly the same things in the same places, he was five and a half feet tall under normal circumstances. But now he looked like a folded wet rag. Gazing wearily around the ship at the others, he sighed. Getting to his feet, he went up the passageway to the cockpit and entered, sitting on a small jumpseat behind the pilots.

  "Are we safe?" he asked.

  "Aye, sir," replied the Pilot. "We lost 'em."

  The officer - a Captain - hung his head for a moment, folding his hands in front of him. Then he looked up. "Where are we headed?"

  "Right now, just straight away from them, deeper into the Rim. But we need to make a decision on a destination."

  "What are our reserves?" asked the Captain.

  "About..." the Pilot looked at the instruments overhead. "About ten days, at minimum use. We're tight on oxygen, a little better on food and water.”

  "OK. Where do you recommend we go?"

  "Well...," the Pilot rubbed his face. "Anywhere but back toward the Bats. So I'm thinking, we just keep going as we are, straight away from them."

  "Any viable planets on that path?"

  "Unknown. What with the Nebula in the way, we don't have much data on the other side, and we've never explored much out that way."

  "But we can't go back toward home."

  "Only if you want to become Bat fodder".

  "OK," sighed the Captain. "Keep a course to the other side of the Nebula, then surface and take some bearings. We need to find someplace we can get air, water and food. We don't have long in this tin can."

  "Understood, sir. We'll do our best."

  The Captain clapped a hand on the Pilot's shoulder. "I know you will."

  Captain Cassian went back to the passenger cabin and sank back down in his spot on the floor. A young child stared at him from across the cabin. He smiled a wan smile at the boy, who had lost his parents in the Bat attack on the Daneki Science Hall just a few hours before.

  "Are we going to die, sir?" asked the young orphan, Vitus his name.

  Cassian shook his head. "No, son. We're not going to die. We're going to find us a planet and then we're going to be just fine."

  ***

  "Sir?"

  Cassian heard the voice from a far distance. He had been watching the Bats snuff out the lives of his squadron again, one by one, in blood and flame. His friends dying, crashing, exploding, buying him the time to get these few survivors out…

  "Sir?"

  Slowly he roused. Another bad dream. The Copilot was gently shaking his shoulder. "Sir, we have found a planet."

  Cassian sat up, shaking off the stiffness of lying on the floor.

  "What?"

  "Sir, we've found a planet. We think it has water and air, possibly some food."

  Cassian, shaking away the last cobwebs from his brain, stood up. The cabin was dark, everyone around him sleeping. "Show me," he said quietly. They had been running for a week, on short rations. The air was starting to smell bad; they were running out of time.

  The Copilot led him to the cockpit. On the small tactical holo between the two pilots was a system display, showing a large gas giant, any number of smaller moons and asteroids, and one rocky world, highlighted.

  "That one, sir," pointed the Pilot. "It's in the habitable zone, shows water, oxygen, nitrogen, no concentrations of dangerous gases. There's some chlorophyll, so at least basic plant life."

  Cassian clapped the Pilot on the shoulder. "Good work, men. How long until we can be there?"

  "Another ten hours, sir. But we'll have to run a close-in survey to see if we can land."

  Cassian slapped the Pilot on the shoulder once again, reached over and tapped the Copilot as well. "Excellent job, men. Let me know when we reach orbit. There'll be some happy folks in back if this works out."

  ***

  In orbit around the smallish planet, Cassian was gratified to see clear signs of plant life covering most of the surface of a continent, one sandwiched between two oceans. Remote sensors showed a breathable atmosphere. There was no evidence of dangerous trace gases. There was no sign of civilization. They decided to put down on the coast of the larger ocean, giving them access to both land and sea.

  "Everybody buckle in!" yelled Cassian, standing in the middle of the Matador's troop section, hanging on to a strap. "Might get a little bumpy!"

  The young boy, Vitus, that Cassian remembered from the escape through the Pipe Nebula was sitting close by him. The boy looked up at him, uncertainly. Cassian winked at him. "Gonna be just fine, son. Just buckle up and hang on!"

  In min
utes, the corvette started to rock and pitch as they hit the upper atmosphere. For a good ten minutes, it was a roller-coaster ride - corvettes were not really designed to land on planets, although they had the capability in an emergency - but eventually it started to settle down. A few minutes later, the pilots announced over the PA, "Landing in one minute!".

  A small, half-hearted cheer went up from the passengers. Aside from Cassian and the pilots, everyone on the ship was civilian. Cassian had been given orders to evacuate key scientists and their families from the Science Hall – the central scientific facility on Danek. He had barely gotten even this small group out. They had cleared the facility just as it exploded behind them, with a squadron of Bat assault craft right on their tail. Weaving for their lives, they broke atmosphere right into the teeth of a Bat destroyer - and only their speed, and the surprise of their sudden appearance, had caused the destroyer's shots to go wide as they sped away.

  Now, as the Matador grounded on the beach of this alien planet, sixty light years from their former home, they rose wearily to their feet and opened the hatch. Orange light from the K0 star poured in, not as bright as their home world - but a welcome relief from the dim environment in the ship.

  Cassian stepped out and breathed in the cool, crisp air. He sighed. His stomach rumbled with hunger, and his mouth was dry with thirst, but at least he would not suffocate to death. Following basic military protocol, he unslung a rifle from his shoulder and began a slow walk around the corvette, looking for danger. He saw bird-like animals flying in the air, not too different from the ones of his home world. A few small beach creatures scuttled away as his footsteps approached. He couldn't help but smile. As he finished his walk round, the Copilot came up to him excitedly.

  "Sir! The water is a bit salty, but within limits. Our water processor can handle it!"

  "Good, fantastic," said Cassian. "Let's get to it, then."

  "Aye, sir!" said the excited Copilot, who turned and yelled at the dazed civilians wandering aimlessly around the beach. "All able-bodied males come with me! We need to run a hose down to the water!'

  Cassian turned toward the females and children, who had stopped at the sound and were looking toward them.

  Cassian shouted to them, "Everyone who isn't working on the water treatment, come with me! Let's find out if anything is edible here!"

  He turned and walked toward the verge of grass and plants set back from the beach. Behind him he heard the footsteps of the females and children following. Together they walked up the sand until they came to an area of plant life, just short of a forest. Many of the plants bore flowers - some carried things that looked like fruit.

  "Here, take these," said Cassian, handing several of the older females a small stick-like plant tester. "Each of you with a tester, stay here in one place." He turned to the others.

  "Everyone else, spread out and bring back samples of the plant life - leaves or fruit or flowers, whatever looks like it might be edible - to the testers."

  "Testers! Test each plant item they bring you by poking the test probe into the surface of the leaves or fruit. You'll get a readout that shows if the item is safe to eat. No guarantee of taste, of course. Just an indicator that it won't kill you. If it tests dangerous, throw it into a pile behind you, over there". He pointed.

  "And if it tests safe, give it a taste. Anything that tastes too horrible to eat, throw into another pile behind you, on the other side, here..." Once again, he pointed.

  "And anything you can tolerate to eat, put into a third pile, right in front of you." He pointed again. "When you have a few good items, set everybody to gathering in those items."

  Cassian turned and scanned the ocean. Far away, he saw a huge marine animal broach the surface, blow air and sink back down again. Cassian felt a small twinge of hope. They were still probably dead, he thought, like the rest of his people. But there was a slight chance of life, if the stars aligned.

  ***

  Later in the evening, they had a bonfire by the sea. They had found several suitable plants and one of them was a potato-like item, quite tasty when roasted. Wrapped in a succulent leaf, it felt like heaven to their empty bellies when they had them cooked and were able to wolf them down. They had packed away hundreds of pounds of these and other edible items, in the reefer on the corvette. Their water tanks were full. His passengers had asked Cassian why they could not just remain on the planet; but Cassian reminded them that they were only days away from the newly enlarged Bat dominions.

  "A planet like this," he said, "will be scouted by them soon enough. They're moving in this direction now. We were safe for hundreds of years while they went Coreward, but now they've turned back toward the Rim. So, we can't stay here; we have to put a lot more distance between us and the Bats if we want to survive."

  There was a silence as they absorbed that.

  "But what if we don't find another planet that we can live on?" asked the young boy, Vitus.

  Cassian rubbed the stubble on his cheeks. "We have stores now for a bit over a month of travel. We'll go another two weeks out toward the Rim, see what we can find. If we find nothing in that time, we'll sneak back in here, replenish, and set off in a different direction. But we don't have much choice. If we stay here, we die. That's the reality of it."

  Vitus nodded. "So which direction will we go?"

  "The pilots have picked out a system a little over two weeks from here, which looks promising. We won't know for sure until we get closer, of course, but we're going to give it a try." Cassian turned and squinted up into the clear night sky. "About there, I think," he said, pointing.

  Young Vitus turned and squinted up into the sky, as if he could see 250 light years. Cassian grinned.

  Beehive Cluster - Planet Marinas

  AEN Spacedock Hercules

  "Hercules Approach, Destroyer Nemesis, ready for docking," intoned Comm Officer Atropos.

  Hecate slumped wearily in the Captain's chair, looking at the holotank before her as they approached the space station floating above the planet.

  "Three damn weeks," she spat. "Three damn weeks and not a damn thing to show for it."

  Her XO, Andrea Iona, commiserated with her. "I know, Skipper. And we're all tired. But we'll feel better after this shore stop."

  "I don't want to stop!" exclaimed Hecate.

  "I know, Skip," said Andrea. "But we need to re-supply. And the crew could use a break."

  Hecate growled. "I know. But I don't have to like it."

  Andrea smiled as a loud "clunk" signaled the docking maneuver was complete. "C'mon, Skipper. Let's go get our supplies. And maybe a drink at a bar?"

  "Not for me, thanks," said Hecate. "I'm going to stay aboard and work on some charts. That black daughter of Hell has got to be around here somewhere."

  "Mum," said Comm Officer Atropos. "I've just received a strange message. It has our codes, but it's not from Fleet. Looks like it came from the planet."

  "What?" exclaimed Hecate and Andrea at the same time.

  Atropos flicked the message to them. Hecate read the message in her vision holo and looked at Andrea, puzzled.

  Muttering, Andrea finished her scan of the message. "If you want the Black Ship, come to Minerva's Temple at 10 pm. Sit in back, order a Red Death." Andrea looked around at the officers on the bridge. "What's a Red Death?"

  Lt. Atropos grinned. "9-parts vodka and 1-part red coolant fluid from the engine room of a starship. At least that's the claim, I've never had one."

  Andrea looked back at Hecate. "What the hell you think this means?"

  Hecate bared her teeth. "I think it means I'll go ashore after all."

  Two hours later, Hecate and Andrea stood outside the bar called Minerva's Temple on the planet Marinas, gazing at the neon-lit entrance. She and Andrea were dressed in civvies, nothing too flashy – well, at least for Hecate. Andrea didn’t have a non-flashy civilian outfit in her wardrobe, but Hecate had persuaded her to choose one that could possibly pass as conservative, at
least in the dark.

  Andrea Iona Satra was near six feet tall, with jet-black hair and flashing brown eyes, and a body hard as nails. From a minor branch of the Aronte dynasty - no longer in the line of succession - the Satra clan were all pure warriors, and nothing but. Raised as a ward of the Imperial family after both her parents were killed in the Fringe Rebellion, Andrea was a distant cousin to Hecate. There was not another person in the Empire Hecate would prefer beside her in time of trouble. But conservative clothing was not in her vocabulary.

  In contrast, Hecate was not as dark, her hair a light brown, almost red, and her complexion much lighter – somewhat an anomaly among the Amazons. Although an inch shorter than Andrea, like most Imperials she carried herself like the royalty she was, even if unconsciously. It was an inbred trait she never considered. Due simply to the way they moved and spoke, it was unlikely either Hecate or Andrea could pass for commoners.

  Placed discreetly at key points around the building was a squad of armed Marines. Another squad, in plain clothes, had wandered into the bar over the course of the last couple of hours, their weapons tucked discreetly out of sight.

  "Well, shall we?" asked Andrea.

  "We shall." responded Hecate. They walked into the bar, pausing inside the entrance to let their eyes adjust. Tucked in one corner was a live band. In the center of the room was a dance floor, with couples writhing to a hard-driving song. They noted their Marine bodyguards spaced randomly around the club, avoiding eye contact. On the right side of the room was a row of tables, filled with couples hanging out near the dance floor. On the left side were booths with patrons eating dinner. At the back of the club were a few booths out of the direct hubbub.

  "I've been here before," said Andrea. "It's a hot place! Wish we could stay!"

  Hecate grinned at her. She knew if Andrea had been here before, she had probably shut the place down and spent the night in jail. Andrea’s reputation as a hell-raiser was legend in the Fleet. They snaked their way through the club, avoiding the press of people around the dance floor, until they came to a vacant booth in the back row. Hardly had they sat when a slave appeared.