Death Mark

by Aer-ki Jyr

  Like an oasis in the fields of death, the small artificial rock building was nothing more than a rectangular cube with a door in it. The fires would not be able to get inside, and if it had been hit from orbit there would have been nothing left…but there was. It was right there, only a few more steps to go.

  Ikan’s numbness began to fade, and he felt each of those final steps more than the ones that had come before. When he got to the door there was no handle, just a touch pad. He balled his hand and touched it on the side to avoid pressing his raw, bleeding palm to it, but it opened just the same.

  He walked inside and went straight for the water station, using his fingers to pick up an empty cup without touching it to the rest of his hand, then he filled it up from a spigot that still had pressure…but of course it would, for the pump mechanism was underneath the building, yet after all this time he still feared it would not work.

  But it did, and he filled the cup up a small portion and brought it to his lips, having the good sense not to gulp. His mouth rejected the water at first, then a sip got through and disappeared somewhere. He couldn’t swallow, for his throat would not obey his commands.

  Ikan took his cup and sat down on a slightly padded chair, and as soon as he did he knew he would not be getting back up again for some time.

  He sat there, slowly sipping water into his dry mouth and tongue, and feeling like the luckiest person who ever lived…

  When Ikan woke it was night again, but what day it was he did not know. He had slept a long time in the pull out cot the workers used to take naps during shifts rather than waste time traveling elsewhere during their breaks, and somehow he had managed to bandage up his hands with the emergency health kit he’d found. He didn’t know why the Overlords had always decreed that every building, no matter how small, have emergency supplies of every kind, but now he understood their wisdom intimately. If not for it, he’d already be dead.

  And thanks to the dirty work in the fields, there were several spare clean uniforms available to him, one of which he’d already donned. He’d even eaten a fair amount of emergency rations…which were far better than grain dust…but he hadn’t wasted it. A cup now held it, for he might need to use it later when the rations ran out.

  Ikan knew he could not stay here forever, but he wasn’t going anywhere in the near term. This oasis was too good to give up, and he needed to let his wounds heal up a bit before he explored what was left in the farming belt. If this small building survived, perhaps larger ones did as well. And if not, then he needed to collect supplies from the ones identical to his refuge here. Ikan didn’t know if anyone else had survived, though right now he hoped not, because he didn’t want to share what few resources he had managed to find.

  That was a bad thought to think, but it was practical. He was alone, so he might as well get the small advantages out of that isolation rather than be plagued with another person that would be more baggage than help.

  But if he did find someone, he wouldn’t let them starve. He just hoped he didn’t…for a while, at least. He didn’t know if the J’gar were gone or not. They might be back with ground teams hunting for survivors, so he didn’t want to go moving around and attract attention in the now very empty fields the fires had laid bare.

  Ikan pulled himself up off the cot, finding his mouth dry again but not parched. He stood up and got some water, finding his body had recovered greatly. It was said that when the Era’tran first found the Ter’nat they were appalled at how weak and pathetic their bodies were, but that they saw something in their determination that they could use. The Zen’zat were heavily modified to overcome the physical weakness, but what the Era’tran had saw in their race was present in even Ikan, and after what he’d just gone through and survived, he was proud that he’d had the will to persist.

  He still didn’t want to think about the others, but the fact that they were probably dead from thirst or hunger by now seemed to ease his mind a bit, though not much. His focus remained on what was ahead, and for now that was laying low and hoping the enemy wasn’t still around. In a few days he’d go scouting the nearby area if no one showed up to kill or rescue him, and he truly hoped for neither. Anonymity seemed his best defense now, and the smaller he could make himself the better.

  No one came for him. Not the enemy, not friendly search parties, not even another wayward Ter’nat looking for shelter. Ikan was alone for weeks, and after he summoned up enough courage to start looking around he discovered a lot of emergency supplies in other agro outposts, including some of the larger ones that had been passed over, which made him wonder. If the J’gar hadn’t destroyed every building beyond the cities, had they gone after the prototype grow facilities?

  He assumed they would have hit the largest one, but the first that he and his team had put together was small and partially underground. It was a long walk from his current location, but not beyond his range if he took a knapsack with him and spent one night under the stars…or rain, depending on his luck. But he’d already done that twice now to get to other spots that might have supplies, so he decided to risk his longest trek yet away from his oasis and set off for the location of the smallest prototype growth facility, with him probably being one of the few people on the planet who even knew where it was.

  On his way there he came across another way station, finding it empty of people and also of supplies. Someone had been here to take them, or they had never been stocked. If the latter had been the case someone needed to be disciplined, and that rarely happened due to the compliant nature of the Ter’nat to follow the Overlords’ orders, so perhaps there was another survivor out here after all doing the same resource search Ikan was.

  He didn’t stay the night there, but pressed on a few more hours before sleeping 4 or 5, then he was off again in search of the site of the prototype growth factory that took him beyond the fields and up into the hills where there were still trees. Those on the edges of the fields had burnt, but only a few rows in. Apparently the crops didn’t hold enough stored energy to heat the trees enough to start a chain reaction in the forest, and for the first time Ikan finally had something to cover him from the view above…though at this point if there were any J’gar watching they would have found and killed him long ago.

  Ikan walked through the trees, cutting across un-roaded areas rather than trying to go around the forest. He had a good idea where he was, but without a map he couldn’t be sure…then 5 hours later he came to the site and disappointment crept into his bones. The prototype center had been hit, with a large hole in it on the south side with shrapnel thrown everywhere into the nearby trees…but there was still a lot of the facility left standing, so he decided to venture inside and see if any of the mechanisms were still working.

  Halfway around to the intact north side he stopped short when he saw footprints in the ground. Recent ones, not something that would have been here months. Something in him told him to turn and run away, but the footprints looked Ter’nat, or Zen’zat, and either would be allies here. He had plenty of food for himself, and knew where his main stash was, so he wasn’t going to get himself killed by sharing what was in his pack. Still, he was unsure for a moment, then decided to press forward. If someone was here he wanted to find them, no matter what the situation was. If he had to he could always run off…again.

  Ikan tracked the footprints around the perimeter to one of the doors, which still opened up on touch, meaning there was some power here, even if it was just batteries. The Ter’nat walked inside more slowly than normal, and quickly saw that at least a chunk of the facility had not been touched by the explosion.

  The lights were dim, but there was power here…and when he stepped into a side compartment and saw crops growing in the clear cube rooms he was overjoyed. Now he didn’t have a limited lifespan. He could use the crops and seed they produced to sustain himself indefinitely.

  “I don’t believe it,” a voice said from his left, with Ikan jumping in shock and twisting to look at anothe
r Ter’nat. Both of them had scrub facial hair, for grooming items were not something incorporated into emergency supplies, but apparently his face was still recognizable. “Constublar, where did you come from?”

  It took Ikan a moment to place the name and voice, then realized it was one of his former staff members from decades ago. “Gradir?”

  “Yes, it’s me,” the other said, walking up to him and touching his arm to make sure he was real. “How did you get here?”

  “I walked. Are you here alone?”

  “Alone? No. There are more than 50 of us that got out of the fields before the fires killed us. Most of them are out searching for more survivors. Did someone bring you in?”

  “No, I remembered where this place was and wanted to see if anything was left,” Ikan said with a smile.

  “We lost about 40% capacity, but the generators weren’t hit. I don’t know why the J’gar only put one shot into it, but we’re producing enough food for 200 at least. Under your command I know you’ll stretch it to 250.”

  “Command?”

  “I’ve been in charge since I was found. Everyone else are farm hands caught out during the bombardment. Many went back into the city for safety when the attack came. Is that where you were?”

  “Yes. There’s nothing left. I was lucky to find my way out to the fields. The other survivors…I don’t see how they could have made it this long.”

  “What about the emergency supplies? And shelters?” Gradir asked in disbelief.

  “There’s nothing left,” Ikan said softly. “Not a single building standing. I crawled out of the substructure. Whatever supplies are there are buried. I…there’s…”

  Gradir grabbed his arm in a supportive gesture. “I am very glad you found your way out here. We need your help, badly.”

  “It looks like you’re doing well enough on your own,” Ikan said, swiping away a tear.

  “We don’t understand how to program any of this. It’s just running on whatever settings were here before the staff were killed.”

  “There was no staff. It’s decommissioned with caretakers visiting every few weeks for monitoring. We were testing different varieties under extreme conditions to see how far we could press the plants’ limits. I doubt anyone was here when it was hit.”

  “Well, we found two bodies. Or at least that’s what they said. They’re buried outside. We didn’t want to add them to the waste bins. It didn’t feel right.”

  Ikan looked at Gradir for a moment, then pulled him into a light hug. He didn’t realize how much he missed his fellow Ter’nat, especially one that he knew.

  “Thank you for being alive,” he said before he released him.

  “Let’s try to keep it that way,” Gradir said with an understanding nod.

  “Have you seen any of the J’gar since the bombardment?”

  “No one has. I hope they left us for dead. Do you know the programming on this stuff?” he asked, thumbing at the clear chambers teaming with fruits and grains…some of which didn’t look so healthy.

  “I designed it,” Ikan said, pushing away another wave of emotion. “If we reset to more normal environments we can get triple the output. Are you expecting to find more survivors?”

  “We have some automation left, and we’re using it to scout further than we can walk. We almost had a functioning transport, but we’re missing replacement tires. We’re grabbing whatever stuff we can find, and every now and then we find another person. And now you just found us, so I’m hopeful for more.”

  “Alright then. Let’s get production ramped up. What we don’t eat we can store for later. Have you found any Zen’zat?”

  “I wish. You’re the best thing we’ve found so far, and I’m glad not to be in charge anymore. If that’s ok with you? Or do you need some time to recover?”

  “I’ll take command,” Ikan said firmly. “You’re back on my staff, effective immediately.”

  “Orders?” Gradir said with a smile.

  “Inventory. I want to know every seed variety we have left, and how much we have. I don’t want to lose any of them. We’re going to need the nutrient diversity.”

  “I’ve already compiled a partial list…” Gradir said as the two stepped back into old roles, pushing the recent horrors even further from Ikan’s mind. Forward was his future. Backwards was the dead. He had to choose between the two, so he dove into the task at hand and didn’t look back. He couldn’t if he wanted to keep his sanity.

  6

  May 7, 128818

  Iom System (Midzan Region)

  Puvvcor (Ter’nat colony)

  Rajamal had two ships with him, a Wur’ki and a Ti’mat. Both were of Hjar’at manufacture and had been brought to him by other Zen’zat retreating from service assignments to aid in the defense of the Ter’nat colonies. Rajamal was in the smaller skirmisher and at the head of the two ship convoy when it entered the Iom System, only to discover that the Ter’nat stronghold was already under attack.

  There were 3 planets here that held Ter’nat colonies, two of which were not fully inhabited, which was common for Ter’nat planets. The other was rare in that it was fully colonized and defended beneath a complete planetary shield, though weak in construction. The Zen’zat ships headed there immediately after braking against the star, and on approach they began to see what they were walking into.

  The J’gar and Oso’lon were both here, which meant this was no orbital bombardment raid like the others. The Oso’lon already had troops on the ground, on the far side from the single planetary defense station that had been allotted here. The Tar’vem’jic within it would destroy the attacking fleet with ease should it come within range, but they were wisely invading the far side of the planet and working their way across the surface…meaning this was to be a land battle for the Zen’zat.

  Rajamal was thankful the Hjar’at who operated this Ter’nat colony had insisted on the planetary defense station. Few others did, and it was the reason why at least part of the planet was safe. The backside was not, and orbital bombardment was currently underway there against the easy targets that the Tar’vem’jic could not protect.

  He looked for the warship count, finding the enemy had a total of 53 ships and the defenders had 9 V’kit’no’sat vessels and 183 Ter’nat ones…all of which were taking refuge under the Tar’vem’jic’s firing range and daring the enemy to come in to challenge them, but the J’gar were too smart for that. However, when they finally did get close to the planetary defense station, those defending warships could bombard the enemy troops with impunity, and Rajamal was glad they had the sense not to go out and die stupidly in forced naval combat that they could not win.

  The two Zen’zat ships altered course for that safe zone, and when they got into low enough orbit for realtime communications Rajamal reached out to whoever was in command, with an unfamiliar Hjar’at appearing in holo before him.

  “Identify yourselves.”

  “I am Rajamal, and I have two vessels of Zen’zat to assist in the defense of the planet. Please point me in the direction of the best location to kill an Oso’lon,” he said in all seriousness.

  The Hjar’at frowned. “I thought you were dead.”

  “I’ve been raiding damaged J’gar warships and keeping a low profile. We intercepted your courier and diverted here. Do you expect to get reinforcements?”

  “I expect nothing, and your two ships are a welcome surprise. I am Neoum, and would greatly appreciate any of your special help on the northern continent. The shields are not down there yet, and we’ve convinced the enemy not to try and bombard them by running our warships in low and sniping their underbellies when they try, so the Oso’lon are attempting a ground campaign and making significant progress. Most of the troops I’m working with are Ter’nat, and I don’t need to explain to you what that means.”

  “You do not. I have 837 Zen’zat ground troops ready for combat, and we prefer to operate in the same combat area.”

  “You may seek out the enemy
when and where you like, Rajamal. I have no illusions here. I cannot stop the Oso’lon, only delay them a few years, and they know it. Whittle them down where you can, and if a few more ships fortuitously arrive here then maybe we can talk about fighting them to a standstill. Unless that happens we’re in constant retreat, overpopulated with evacuees from other worlds, and on the wrong side of this one.”

  “Have they touched the other two planets?”

  “No, they’re rightly focusing everything here. If the planetary defense station falls, everything else is cleanup work.”

  “Why are you not using your warships to assist with the ground fighting?”

  “The Oso’lon themselves do not extend far enough forward. They wait for their insignificant troops to take down the shield generators, then they can move forward under the protection of their fleet’s guns. Their Bo’ja are spread out too thinly to attack and mixed with the Ter’nat most of the time. I cannot kill them without hitting my own infrastructure, but we do have some Zen’zat in aerial fighters for fire support.”

  “Is the Oso’lon commander experienced?”

  “Quite so. And I do not have the tools to counter him. I have a little under 6,000 Zen’zat left in the entire system, and 8 Hjar’at not counting myself. No one else remained to guard a planetary defense station. This galaxy has become delirious with hopelessness.”

  “Who left?”

  “The other Overlords, most of which were Hjar’at. They were ordered out by Netarruo to reinforce Baggam. He said to turn the planetary defense station over to the Ter’nat, after which we had an unpleasant conversation that will result in my arrest if I ever try and return to Baggam.”

  “What is the logistics situation?”

  “Ample food, infantry weapons, and workers. Too many workers for the cities we have left. My Ter’nat armies are well supplied, well trained, but still Ter’nat. The Bo’ja are slaughtering them where we don’t have numerical supremacy on a factor of 10 or more.”