Remnants: Broken Galaxy Book Five

by Phil Huddleston

  Bagi did a quick count. There were 521 Stree ships left out of the original 1,500. The rest of them were burning, shattered hulks in the outer system. The first engagement had done its job, inflicting 65% losses on the Stree fleet upon their initial entry into the system.

  But the Goblin fleet was also decimated. 206 Goblin ships had been lost in the outer system. Not counting the reserve of 50 older ships waiting in front of the Dyson Ring, only 244 Goblin ships remained to fend off the 521 Stree ships still intact and battle-ready.

  The outcome was inevitable, and Bagi knew it. And worse, he knew he could not catch up to the Stree fleet before the next phase of the battle. His damaged engines, operating at only 75% of normal thrust, simply would not get him there in time. He would be an involuntary observer of the next pass.

  Nevertheless, he pushed the throttle of the remaining three engines up until the entire ship shook like a leaf in the wind, the engines whining in protest. The vibration threatened to tear off more damaged pieces of the warship as it grudgingly began to accelerate back into the system toward the Dyson Ring.

  I will not be there in time for the next pass. But I will be there for the final battle at the Ring. And that will be enough.

  Great Cathedral of the Stree

  Jim was thoroughly confused. One minute he had been sleeping in the dingy, filthy cell at the bottom of the Cathedral dungeon. Then four guards had suddenly appeared, jerked him out of his bunk, yanked him out of the cell, bound his hands, and dragged him roughly up two flights of stairs and down a hallway.

  Then the head jailer Cotrapi joined them and took off at a fast pace, the four guards half-dragging Jim along behind, his legs and feet so weak he could barely move them in concert with the yanks and tugs.

  He was dragged up another two flights of stairs to a well-lit hallway. Halfway down the hallway, large double doors led into an ornate room. Jim was pulled forward to a spot before an empty throne and thrown to the floor in a heap. He tried to lift his head to look around, but instantly a rifle butt slammed into his ribs, and another one into the back of his head, drawing blood. A harsh command was yelled. He didn’t understand the command, but he got the meaning.

  Keep your head down.

  Now he slumped on his knees before the empty throne, hands bound tightly behind him. Blood dripped down the side of his face where the rifle butt had hit him. His ribs felt like someone had stuck a knife in them.

  Suddenly another monk came into the room. Jim had seen him before - standing in front of his cell, glaring at the Humans, talking to Cotrapi. He had heard Cotrapi call him Tarilli.

  One of the guards slammed a foot into the small of Jim’s back, forcing him to lie on the floor. Then Cotrapi and the other guards all fell to the floor, prostrating themselves, eyes and forehead to the floor. Only the monk Tarilli remained alert, watching Jim carefully, sinking to a kneeling position to one side of the throne.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jim saw a door behind the throne open. The figure of Great Prophet Videlli appeared. He wore long, flowing robes of scarlet, trimmed with gold. Bejeweled necklaces and pendants covered the front of his robe. On his head was a high mitered crown, bespectacled with jewels and gold. His fat fingers were covered in golden rings.

  Videlli moved slowly to the throne, an entourage of four priests following him on both sides. He took his place on the throne and settled in, making himself comfortable.

  Videlli looked down at the tableau before him. He glanced at Tarilli and said something in Stree.

  Lying with his forehead pushed against the floor, Jim realized he wouldn’t live long. He was at the mercy of the Stree leader - who had vowed to kill every sentient AI in the galaxy and any biological creature who aided them.

  I just hope they make it quick.

  “You may look up, blasphemer,” said a voice. “You are already condemned to death in any case.”

  Jim slowly raised his head to look at the Great Prophet. Videlli glared at him.

  “By all rights, I should have you executed here and now, Human,” Videlli said in Stree, words in English coming from a translator hung around his neck. “But it’s interesting to me how you Humans have come so far in only three years, from monkeys cavorting on the surface of your planet to space warriors fighting us as if we were equals.”

  Videlli leaned forward, staring into Jim’s eyes.

  “We are not equals, Human. You are still but a monkey cavorting in the universe, with delusions of grandeur.”

  Videlli leaned back, adjusting his robe, and brushing away some lint. He smiled at Jim.

  “Still, I would learn more about this. Perhaps your rapid rise from the jungle to space can be instructive to me. I think I will amuse myself with you before sentence is executed.”

  Videlli snapped his fingers. Beside Jim, Tarilli lifted his head slightly.

  “Yes, O Great Prophet?”

  “Have this monkey taken to my study. I would question it at my convenience.”

  “Yes, O Great Prophet. It will be done.”

  Videlli rose from the throne and turned to depart. The four priests beside his path to the rear of the room prostrated themselves on the floor until he was gone. Then they rose and followed him dutifully through the door.

  Now Jim was seized roughly and jerked to his feet. His guards hustled him out a side door of the throne room and down a long hallway. Cotrapi followed, clearly nervous. At the end of the hallway, the guards jerked Jim roughly through a door and into another corridor. Halfway down, they pushed him up two flights of stairs to the third floor, down a hallway, and through an ornate door on the right side of the corridor.

  Jim found himself in a large study. On three sides, bookshelves lined the wall. On the fourth side was a large desk, with three chairs aligned in front of it.

  The guards dragged Jim to the center chair, directly in front of the desk, and pushed him down into it. They tied his hands roughly to the arms of the chair. A noose was placed around his neck and ran down the back of the chair to a ring in the floor, ensuring he could not move. Then the guards departed, leaving him alone with Tarilli and Cotrapi. Tarilli looked at Cotrapi and waved him out of the room as well.

  There was silence in the room. Jim looked around. Behind the desk was a large viewscreen. On the screen, Jim could see a prison cell. It was rough-cut stone, with a high window that let in a bit of light. There was just enough light to see Bonnie sitting on a crude bunk, her head lowered to stare at the floor.

  “Bonnie!” Jim called involuntarily as he saw her.

  “She cannot hear you,” Tarilli said quietly in English. “You waste your breath.”

  To one side, a door opened. Great Prophet Videlli walked in, moved to the desk, and sat down. He had shed his outer robes and crown. Now he was dressed in a simple white robe trimmed in gold. He stared at Jim for a moment, then looked at Tarilli.

  “Remove his restraints,” he said in perfect English.

  Tarilli nodded and moved to Jim’s side. He removed the noose around Jim’s neck, then the wrist bindings. Jim rubbed his wrists, massaging away the pain, and looked at Videlli, puzzled.

  “Stand up, Human,” said Videlli.

  Jim stood, his mind a whirl of possibilities.

  Maybe I can escape. Maybe I can kill Videlli.

  But none of those things help Bonnie and the others. Maybe I’d better see where this is going.

  Videlli stood up and walked around his desk, moving to a position directly in front of Jim. He stared at Jim with a twinkle in his eyes. There was a faint smile on his lips.

  “Hello there, big boy. Why don’t you come up and see me sometime?”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Stree Prime

  Great Cathedral of the Stree

  “Rita?” Jim was too astounded to say more. That was the only word he could get out.,

  “You bet your ass, big boy,” rasped Videlli, his guttural Stree voice totally out of place with the spoken words. “Welcome to Wonderland.�
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  Hearing a giggle behind him, Jim turned to look. The monk Tarilli had one hand over his mouth, trying to hold back his laughter.

  “Tika?” Jim asked, as the other shoe dropped.

  “The one and only,” said Tarilli. “I wish you could see the look on your face!”

  With a whoosh, Jim sat down heavily in the chair behind him. His legs wouldn’t support him anymore. Rita/Videlli leaned forward and patted his cheek.

  “I’m sorry, hon. But I had to keep up the charade. I couldn’t let on with witnesses around.”

  Jim shook his head, unable to speak for a moment.

  “But what now?” he asked, looking up at Rita. “We’re trapped in Videlli’s study. How do we get out of here?”

  “You forget,” said Rita. “I am Videlli. I am the Supreme Prophet of the Stree. My word is the Word Ordained.”

  Jim nodded, still befuddled by the turn of events.

  “But…to what end? What’s your plan?” he wondered.

  “Ah, yeah. There’s the rub.” Rita looked at Tika. “What is my plan?”

  “Obviously, we have to make one last final effort to stop the attack at Stalingrad,” said Tika.

  “Well, yeah,” said Rita. “But how to do that without raising suspicion? If I just declare the war over, they’ll know something’s not right. That would be totally out of character for Videlli.”

  Jim thought hard, musing on their predicament.

  “We have to present a bigger threat to them than the Goblins. That’s the only way they’ll stop their crusade.”

  “What bigger threat?”

  “It has to be huge. Something that will totally divert their attention.”

  Even as he spoke, the door opened and a strange Stree stepped in. Jim froze, sure they had been caught. But the Stree simply smiled at Jim, nodded at Tika, and spoke directly to Rita.

  “Actually, we may already have that,” the Stree said in English.

  “Luda? What are you doing here?” asked Rita. “What are you talking about?”

  Stree Prime

  Great Cathedral of the Stree

  “Luda? What do you mean?” asked Rita. “You have something that will help?”

  Luda nodded. “I just received an ansible communication a few minutes ago.”

  “And?” asked Rita impatiently.

  “It was from Commander Rauti.”

  Everyone in the room except Luda looked puzzled. Tika thought for a second, then breathed out her realization. “Rauti. The commander at Venus.”

  “Yes,” said Luda. “Except he’s not on Venus anymore. He sent a warning on our coded command channel.”

  “What? What warning?” Tika was losing her patience. “Spit it out, Luda!”

  “He warned all Goblins to get far away from Stree Prime. He’s going to destroy the planet.”

  There was a shocked silence that lasted a good five seconds before Rita jumped in.

  “How is he going to destroy the planet?”

  “He built three big-ass pusher missiles with tDrives and flew them all the way here from Venus. He picked up asteroids out in the Kuiper belt and attached one to each missile. He’s flying them into the system to smash them into the planet at thirty percent of light speed.”

  “Fuck,” breathed Jim. “That’ll do it, alright.”

  Tika exploded. “That’s genocide! Against the Commandments! We don’t make war that way!”

  Luda shrugged. “Rauti’s pissed. They destroyed his people on Venus and his entire project. He’s not worried about the Commandments right now.”

  Rita focused on a more compelling issue. “When?”

  “The first one will hit at midnight tonight. Then one every six hours after that until there’s nothing left alive on Stree Prime.”

  Rita did a rapid calculation in her head.

  “So based on that timing, he’s already launched them.”

  “Yes. They’re in flight, on their way into the inner system. Undoubtedly the Stree will detect them soon.”

  “We have to stop him,” cried Tika. “We can’t let him violate the Commandments like that! We’ve lived by those rules for 20,000 years! It would be the end of everything that we believe in!”

  “And no biologicals would ever trust you again,” said Jim. “You’ll be the pariahs of the Galaxy. Every other species will turn their hand against you.”

  “It would be the end of the Goblins,” Rita said. “We have to stop him.”

  “But…” Jim mused, “…maybe we can use this to help ourselves at the same time. Granted we have to stop him, but can we also use this as leverage against the Stree? Make them recall their Fleet?”

  “It’s all we’ve got,” Rita agreed. “Let’s try it. Luda - can you re-establish communications with Rauti? Will he listen to you?”

  “I don’t know, milady,” Luda said. “I think he’s not in his right mind.”

  “Try,” urged Rita. “Try to convince him to follow our plan. Explain to him that recalling the Stree Fleet saves more Goblin lives than destroying Stree Prime.”

  “I’ll try,” said Luda.

  Rita nodded. “Good. Hurry, Luda.”

  With a slight bow, Luda turned and departed the suite back to his makeshift equipment room.

  With a “whoosh”, Rita sat down heavily on the easy chair in Videlli’s study, splayed out her fat Stree legs, stared at Jim and shook her head.

  “We’re in deep trouble, my love,” she said.

  Jim nodded in agreement.

  “Either we stop Rauti, and lose the war, or we fail to stop Rauti, and the entire galaxy turns against us for genocide. We’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t.”

  “Unless the Stree believe Rauti is serious and recall their fleet,” Rita replied.

  Jim looked grim. “I don’t think they’ll recall the fleet. They’ve gone too far. But wait…you’ve got Videlli in there with you, right? Side-loaded in your temp storage? Can’t you just look in there and see what he would do in this case?”

  “Not really. I can read his memories and knowledge from the scan. I can pick up a hint of his emotions; but I can’t really predict what he would do in this situation. There’s too many variables.”

  “What does that hint of emotion look like right now?”

  “Rage. Anger. I don’t know if that would change later or not, but at the moment, I suspect he’d let Rauti destroy the planet before he’d give in.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  “So. We have no choice that I can see. We send the Stree a message that Rauti will destroy their planet unless they recall their fleet immediately.”

  “Yeah. But at the same time, we work to stop Rauti. We can’t let him actually do this.”

  “Agreed. And of course, we have one more little project to accomplish as quickly as possible.”

  “Yep,” Jim agreed. “Get Bonnie and the rest of them out of that dungeon and off this planet.”

  Great Cathedral of the Stree

  “What do you think?” Gitweo asked his aide Caisel. “Is this message credible?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Caisel responded. “The abominations put enough detail in it to make sure we could check it out. We confirmed that Rauti was the commander at Venus. We checked the sector they gave us; Doppler shows three objects approaching under steady acceleration. The size and shape of the objects match what they told us. The first one will be at 30% light speed in a matter of hours. It’ll impact at midnight. And they’re moving plenty fast enough to destroy the planet.”

  Gitweo shuddered involuntarily. “So. We recall the fleet, or they destroy our planet.”

  “Yes, Master. That’s about the size of it.”

  Gitweo looked to one side, out the window of his office on the top floor of the Administration building behind the Cathedral.

  “We need to take this directly to Videlli right now. Come with me.”

  The two left Gitweo’s office and trotted down the hallway, slammed their way d
own the stairs and ran across to the Cathedral. They hurried up the stairs to the third floor. Arriving at Great Prophet Videlli’s suite, Gitweo knocked firmly.

  “Enter!” someone called. Gitweo recognized the voice of Tarilli - Videlli’s Chief of Staff.

  And lover, Gitweo thought bitterly. The asshole who gets everything - because he gives Videlli exactly what Videlli wants. I can’t wait ‘til the day I can shoot that bastard.

  Opening the door to the suite, Gitweo entered. He found Videlli sitting at his desk. On the couch across the room sat Tarilli. Gitweo moved to stand in front of Videlli’s desk, knelt and prostrated himself, Caisel behind him doing the same.

  Videlli grunted and waved a hand, instructing them to rise.

  “What?” he spoke abruptly.

  “Oh Great Prophet, we have dire news,” said Gitweo. “The Goblin abominations threaten our very existence. They have accelerated a series of asteroids to smash into our planet. If we cannot stop them, they will destroy all life on Stree Prime. They demand we recall our fleet from Stalingrad immediately.”

  Videlli leaned forward, closing one eye in apparent deep thought for a few seconds.

  “Can we stop these asteroids?”

  “It is unlikely, sir. Our fastest ships can only make 25% of light speed inside the mass limit. The abominations know that quite well, Master. They have carefully calculated a speed of approach that forestalls any realistic chance of interception.”

  “Can we shoot missiles at them?”

  “We can, Master. But at that velocity, it would be unlikely our missiles could hit their targets. And even if they did, it’s unlikely we could damage an asteroid enough to destroy it or deflect it away from the planet. And we would have to hit not one, but three of them. We would have to be perfect three times. They’ve been very clever about this.”

  Videlli leaned back, appearing to think. He looked over at Tarilli, then back at Gitweo.

  “What is your recommendation, then?”

  “O Great One, I recommend we issue the recall order. But I think Guardian Prophet Zutirra will not allow Admiral Sojatta to obey such an order. Therefore, I advise we evacuate all key personnel as quickly as possible from the planet. It is inevitable that the planet is destroyed.”