Remnants: Broken Galaxy Book Five

by Phil Huddleston

  Videlli perused Gitweo carefully. “You are certain that Guardian Prophet Zutirra will not obey the recall order?”

  “I am certain, Master. He is a zealous guardian of the Stree Destiny. Especially since we have the abominations on the ropes at this moment, driving them back toward their last bastion of defense. He will assume the order is a ruse or a mistake. He will ignore it.”

  Videlli sighed, looking strangely at Tarilli. “Very well. Issue the order anyway. Give Zutirra all the facts. Tell him this order comes directly from me.”

  Gitweo turned and looked at Caisel, gesturing for him to go take care of the recall. Caisel nodded, bowed deeply to Videlli, and quickly left the room. Gitweo turned back to Videlli.

  “Now, Great Prophet, we must get you off this planet immediately. The first asteroid will impact at midnight. We have little time.”

  Videlli nodded in understanding. “Very well. But where will we go?”

  “Aslar, Master. That is our most civilized colony planet. The climate is benign, the infrastructure most advanced.”

  “That is acceptable. I’ll be ready to go in a half-hour.”

  “Very good, Master. I’ll be back in a half-hour to escort you to the shuttle port.”

  Gitweo bowed low and began to turn away.

  “Oh, Gitweo!” Videlli called.

  Turning back, Gitweo waited.

  “I’m not through with those Human prisoners yet. Put them on their own ship under guard and have them travel with us. I want to question them more when we arrive at Aslar.”

  Gitweo looked puzzled. “But Master…there will be thousands of Humans available to us on that new planet they are settling. The one called Phoenix. We can take ample prisoners there.”

  Videlli nodded. “Yes, I know. But these are the ones who came here to infiltrate us. I suspect they know more than those poor bastards on Phoenix. We’ll hang on to them for now. Put Cotrapi on their ship with a few of his guards. He can continue questioning them enroute.”

  Gitweo bowed again.

  “It will be done, O Great One.”

  Great Cathedral of the Stree

  Something is not right about this, thought Gitweo as he returned to his office. There is no reason to take the Human prisoners. Leave them here to die.

  Shaking it off, Gitweo set aside his curiosity and settled into making preparations to evacuate Videlli and his immediate hierarchy from the planet. He knew better than to attempt to take a large number of staff. The word would get out and cause a panic. It might be such a panic as to prevent him getting to the spaceport and off the planet.

  And it was at that moment that the thought struck him. He gasped as it materialized full-blown in his brain. A thought that frightened him to his very core - and yet exhilarated him beyond belief.

  If something happens to Videlli during the evacuation…there won’t be anybody left to investigate. I’ll never have a better chance at him. And Tarilli too. Both of them. If something happens to them on the shuttle…

  I’ll become the Great Prophet.

  Gitweo let the thought roll around in his mind for a few minutes. It was a daring, audacious plan. But could he pull it off?

  Maybe. If he kept the number of people involved small, and finessed Videlli and Tarilli carefully.

  How to do it?

  Gitweo sat immobile for a full five minutes as he ran scenarios through his mind. And at the end of that time, a subtle smile ran across his face.

  It will work. I can do this. They’ll never suspect a thing until it’s too late.

  “Caisel! Come here! We have work to do!”

  Great Cathedral of the Stree

 

 
  Rita turned to Tika.

  “Any ideas, Tika?”

  “Not really,” Tika replied. “I can also try to talk to him, if you like.”

  “Please. We have to try every possible avenue to get him to turn aside and spare Stree Prime.”

  “Luda - can you patch me through to him with the equipment you have here?”

  “Yes, here you go. You are connected>

 

  There was no response.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  Tika waited for a response, but there was none. A long silence later, she spoke again.

 

 

  Luda reported.

  Tika smashed her fist on the desk in frustration.

 

  Chapter Thirty

  Stree Prime

  Spaceport

  By the time the cavalcade of ground cars arrived at the Komihu Naval Spaceport, it was already afternoon. There were a dozen of them, a parade of vehicles that caught the attention of many as they pulled into the VIP area on the west side of the field. Security guards piled out of the first three vehicles and formed a protective cordon. Two priestly bodyguards exited the fourth vehicle, moved to a nearby shuttlecraft and inspected it, then returned outside and stood beside the ramp at attention.

  Gitweo and Caisel left the same vehicle and moved to open the doors of the armored car behind them. Tarilli and Videlli got out of the rear of the armored car. They moved to the shuttle, Gitweo and Caisel staying protectively close to them.

  Stepping up in the VIP shuttle, Videlli moved to a luxurious leather seat and sat down as Tarilli came in behind him and sat across from him. Gitweo and Caisel entered the shuttle. Both bowed low to Videlli.

  “Everything has been done as you ordered, Master. We will be on board the battlecruiser Resolute in thirty minutes. Warrior Priest Cotrapi and his guards are loading the Human prisoners on the captured corvette. They will follow us to Aslar.”

  “And the cargo?”

  “The cargo has been loaded as you specified, Great Prophet. Nine large crates. And of course, there are servants on board to address your needs.”

  “Ex
cellent, Gitweo. I can always depend on you.”

  “Then by your leave, Master, we’ll go to ensure that all is in order for our departure.”

  “Very good, Gitweo. See you on board the Resolute,” Videlli responded.

  Gitweo and Caisel backed out of the shuttle, bowing low as they did so. Two warrior priest bodyguards entered the shuttle and closed the hatch behind them, then retired to the rear compartment with the servants.

  Moving toward their own shuttle, Gitweo looked back one last time at the VIP craft containing Great Prophet Videlli.

  “Everything is in order?” he asked Caisel.

  “Yes, Master. Their shuttle will explode as it approaches the battlecruiser. There will be plenty of witnesses to confirm their deaths.”

  “And you’re sure you can trust Cotrapi?”

  “Yes, Master. He is the most trust-worthy operative I have. The job will be done right.”

  Gitweo smiled.

  All is prepared. All is ready. In an hour, I’ll be the Great Prophet of the Stree. My time has come.

  Boarding his shuttle, Gitweo settled into his seat, Caisel behind him. The engines started spooling up. Out the window, he could see the Human corvette also preparing for departure.

  Gitweo smiled. As soon as Videlli was dead, he would order the Resolute to destroy that Human ship as well. The last thing he needed right now was Human prisoners. Nothing but a pain in the ass.

  With a slight lurch, his shuttle lifted off. On the displays mounted on the wall, and the small holotank at the front of the cabin, he saw the other shuttles following as they took up a vector for space. The Human ship brought up the rear, piloted by Cotrapi and his hand-picked guards. In a few minutes, the sky began to darken as they approached space.

  Only minutes now. When we approach the battlecruiser, Cotrapi will set off the bomb. And that will be the end of Videlli and Tarilli.

  Phoenix System

  Battalion East

  Misha and his battalion made good time, moving to the northeast in the thinning forest. As soon as they were five miles from their previous camp, they stopped and set up a new bivouac. They were a bit closer to the river now, almost there, but still in the forest. In front of them, toward the river, the forest thinned out a bit because of some rocky humps and hillocks the trees didn’t like.

  Misha had to smile. He couldn’t have planned it better. When they departed tonight for their final march to Landing, they’d have to pass right through that thin spot. As they crossed the river, they would be in full view of Turgenev’s infrared drones, which he was sure would be out in force.

  Well, Tat, you wanted us to be obvious without being completely obvious. I think this should meet your requirements.

  He grabbed his radio and reported in to Tatiana. Misha had never had a problem working for his wife. He had, early on, recognized her genius for guerrilla warfare. He knew his own talents were more pedestrian, not on the same level as hers. Thus, in this present circumstance, even though he disagreed with her plan - because it rankled him to give himself away unnecessarily - he went along with it. She was the commander. She was the talent.

  And in more ways than one, thought Misha. She’s the talent, alright. In battle and in bed.

  Remembering their last night together, Misha grinned, a huge grin that was still in place when Brett Jones stepped into his tent, catching him off guard. He tried to wipe the grin off his face as Jones snapped to attention in front of him.

  “Colonel, all troops present and accounted for, all troops ordered to their tents to rest.”

  “Outstanding, Major. Thank you. Please issue an officer’s call and let’s make sure everybody is on the same page.”

  “Aye, aye sir. Officer’s call on the way.”

  Misha saluted Jones and watched him go. Within ten minutes, his officers had assembled in his tent. He let them get settled, then he went over the plan one last time.

  “We’ll kick off at midnight per plan. We leave everything here except our weapons and ammunition, plus one ration per trooper. We’ve got seven miles left to go. With that light load, we should be able to march at three miles per hour, even with these untrained troops. That puts us one mile from Landing at 0200. We’ll rest there for 15 minutes, as quietly as possible, and launch our attack at 0215 hours. You company commanders and platoon leaders, it’s up to you to ensure every unit stays on schedule. No stragglers, nobody getting lost, no noise. Everyone precisely on the Line of Departure, locked and loaded and ready to fight at 0215. Any questions on schedule?”

  Misha had three company commanders and nine platoon leaders in front of him. All nodded their understanding.

  “Excellent. Next - objectives. Our last intel from the ground was that Turgenev has taken over two apartment blocks for his militia - Blocks One and Two. Those are the two center apartment blocks, opposite the shuttle parking area, Block One on the west side and Block Two on the east side.

  “As briefed, Bravo Company will attack directly into the rear of Block Two, take the building and set up firing positions on the roof. Alpha Company will swing around Block Two on the north side and dig in even with the building. Charlie Company will push around to the south and also dig in along a line with the building. As hard and fast as possible, folks. Make no mistake about it - they will know we are coming. They will be ready, and they will be dangerous. Our best chance is to hit them so hard and so fast that even with their forewarning, they can’t hold against us. Any questions on the assault plan?”

  Misha saw a hand go up.

  “Yes?”

  “Sir, what do we do if Battalion West is late coming in from the west side?”

  Misha smiled.

  “They won’t be, son. I know the person leading them personally. They’ll make schedule or die trying.”

  There were no more questions. Misha smiled at his officers.

  “OK, then. Everybody go get some rest. See you this evening.”

  After the meeting, Misha forced himself to lie down and try to rest. It was impossible to sleep; they would be in battle in a bit more than twelve hours. But he tried, dozing off for a few minutes, a fitful state of almost-sleep that left him more tired than when he started. By 1800 hours, he gave up and sat, pulled out his maps, and started studying them again, looking for anything he had missed, anything he could use as an advantage in the coming battle. But there was nothing new there; his job was a simple one, straightforward.

  March to Landing, attack Turgenev from the east, pin him in place. Let Tatiana come in from the west and catch him in a crossfire.

  Misha sighed.

  It won’t be that simple. It never is.

  Stree Prime

  Entering Orbit

  Cotrapi and his guards had lashed Bonnie, Stewart, and the other Human prisoners to the floor of Armidale’s cargo bay, sitting them on the cold surface with their hands tied behind their backs. Then Cotrapi had gestured to two of his guards, who left for the bridge to make ready for flight. Cotrapi and the two remaining guards moved to the front of the cargo bay and sat in the jump seats there, their stun guns hanging loosely, ignoring the Humans for the moment.

  In a few minutes, Bonnie heard the Armidale’s engines start to spool up. She turned to Stewart. He noticed tears in her eyes as she spoke in a low voice.

  “So I guess Jim is dead. He didn’t return from Cotrapi’s last torture session.”

  Stewart gave a slight nod, watching Cotrapi to see if he was listening. The Stree jailer seemed to be ignoring them.

  “I’m sorry, Bonnie. I know you and Jim were close.”

  Bonnie hung her head, her tears leaking out and falling on the cold floor of the cargo bay. She couldn’t speak.

  “If it’s any comfort to you, I don’t think he talked,” continued Stewart. “If he had told them anything, they wouldn’t need us anymore, and we wouldn’t be going along on this little expedition. We’d already be at the bottom of a ditch somewhere.”

  “Cold comfort,” sniffled B
onnie.

  Stewart turned away, giving her some privacy. The Armidale’s engines surged, and the ship gave a slight lurch as it came unstuck from the surface. He heard the landing legs retract with a whine and then the engines decrease in volume slightly. He knew they were off the ground and headed for space.

  Bonnie looked around the cargo area, knowing it was probably the last time she would see it. She was certain that upon arrival at their destination, they would be thrown into another deep hole, then tortured until all were dead. She had no hopes of any other future.

  Suddenly Bonnie realized Cotrapi was standing directly in front of her. She was amazed that the huge fat Stree could move so quietly. Cotrapi gazed down at her, a strange smile on his lips.

  “Would you like to see something amazing, Humans?” he spoke.

  Both Bonnie and Stewart lifted their heads in puzzlement. Suddenly Bonnie felt one of the Stree guards behind her, loosening her restraints. Then she was free. The guard moved to Stewart and began removing his restraints as well.

  “Come with me,” said Cotrapi, moving toward the hatch at the front of the cargo bay. Stewart looked at Bonnie, shrugged, and got to his feet. Bonnie stood up beside him, rubbing her wrists where the restraints had bit into them. Silently, they followed Cotrapi as he went through the hatch and climbed a short ladder to the next deck. Moving down the corridor, he led them to the bridge. Entering, he gestured with a flourish toward the jump seats behind the captain’s console.

  “Sit, Humans. Be comfortable. I have something interesting to show you.”

  ***

  Bonnie and Stewart were still in a state of shock at the events of the last few minutes. They stared in wonderment at Cotrapi as he gestured to the holotank at the front of the bridge. In the holo, they could see three shuttles in front of the Armidale. The corvette, being in the rear, gave them a perfect view of the formation as they progressed toward a Stree battlecruiser in orbit around the planet.

  “Do you see the shuttlecraft at the head of the formation?” asked Cotrapi.