Into the War (Rise of the Republic Book 3)
Page 32
“We’ve got movement, sir. Looks to be three individuals…no, make it nine individuals now,” Corporal Wells called out. She was watching the drone footage a lot closer than Royce, who was trying to keep his focus on the door in front of him. He needed to be ready to bolt or move in the blink of an eye if the situation required it.
Wells, can you tell if any of them are armed? Royce asked over the neurolink.
Yes, it looks like at least two of them are armed. I’m not sure with what, though. I can’t make out that level of detail.
Using the translator in his HUD to speak Sumerian, Royce called out loudly, “I am Captain Brian Royce of the Republic. We mean you no harm. We have come to help. We can provide food, water, and medical services if you need them.”
“That certainly did something, sir,” said Wells. “I can see them talking animatedly with each other. Whoa—a large group of them just showed up. Some of them appear to be armed. Many of them look to be unarmed.”
“OK, you guys stay ready in case they decide to attack me,” Royce ordered. “As a matter of fact, switch your blasters to stun. If we have to fire, I’d rather knock them out than kill them unless we absolutely have to.”
Reaching down to the selector switch on his own blaster, Royce changed the setting to stun, hoping he wouldn’t need it. They needed answers to what had happened here, not a shoot-out.
A voice from somewhere broke the stillness of the hallway, asking, “Who are you?”
“I am Captain Brian Royce,” he replied, continuing to use his HUD translator to speak Sumerian. “I am a member of the Armed Forces of the Republic. My team and I were dispatched to come to your aid. Who is in charge of your group?”
Another moment of silence occurred before they got a response. “I am Belshazzar, the person in charge of this station. I am afraid we have not heard of this ‘Republic’ you speak of. What race of people are you, and where are you from?”
Royce snorted at the question. He knew the easiest way to explain would be to just take his helmet off so they could see that he was human. “Hadad, prepare to translate for me.”
Hadad nodded and stepped forward to stand next to Royce. When he removed his helmet, Royce could feel the cold air on his skin. The temperature around this part of the station was close to forty degrees—above freezing, but by no means warm. Looking to the camera, Royce stated, “I am human. Just like you. I come from a different star system than yours and from a different planet, a place called Earth.”
There was a moment of silence before Belshazzar spoke again. “How do we know you are not working with the Zodarks?” he asked. “They have other human pets, slaves and soldiers that work for them.”
Captain Royce lifted his chin up as he spoke. “My people have been at war with the Zodarks for the last fourteen years. We have fought many battles against them, to include liberating the mining colony you call Clovis. We now call it New Eden.”
A slight hissing could be heard as the large scorch-marked doors opened in front of them. As the light from the room poured into the hall, a wave of heat washed over Royce’s face.
“Please, come inside,” a man in uniform said as he motioned with his arm for them to come in. “We can talk more inside the security of this room. But, please, keep your weapons lowered.”
Everyone stay frosty, heads on a swivel, and follow me in, Royce said over their neurolink. He knew Hadad didn’t have one, so he whispered the same message to him. He was also the only one of them who was unarmed—he wouldn’t carry a weapon no matter how much they’d asked him.
In the room, a group of maybe thirty Sumerians stood in a half-circle, staring at them. Some of them wore uniforms and were armed, but many were not.
A man stepped forward. He appeared to be older than the others. “My name is Belshazzar. I am the person in charge of what remains of this station and our people. You said you have food, water, and medical supplies? We are in need of all these things. We have been sending out distress signals for months—at least until our communications relay was destroyed.”
Royce spoke but had to wait on Hadad to translate for him. He explained his people spoke a different language. He told Belshazzar he was going to place his helmet back on so he could use the translator built into it. To further set them at ease, Royce sat down Indian-style on the ground, placing his rifle next to him on the ground. The others did likewise, which seemed to ease the tensions with the guards a bit.
“Belshazzar, we do have food and medical supplies. One of my soldiers here is also trained as a medical technician. But first, can you tell us what happened here? Where are all the Sumerian people, the ships, everything?”
Belshazzar looked down at the floor briefly, as did everyone else in the room. When he looked up, he had a burning fire in his eyes and sorrow written across his face. “Everyone is dead…butchered by those Zodark beasts.”
“What do you mean, everyone is dead? That can’t be! There are millions of people,” Hadad burst out.
Belshazzar turned to Hadad. “You speak our language flawlessly. You sound like you are from the capital.”
Hadad nodded, his cheeks reddening as he apparently realized he’d spoken out of turn. Captain Royce was supposed to ask the majority of the questions. “I am also a Sumerian—and, yes, I am originally from the capital. I used to be a researcher in Sumer. When it was discovered I was working on something that could be turned into a weapon, I was banished—turned over to the Zodarks, who shipped me off to Clovis to work the mines and eventually die. Then Captain Royce and his soldiers, they liberated my camp and the others on Clovis. Then they fought many hard battles against the Zodarks and defeated them. They removed them from Clovis and now claim the planet as their own.”
Some murmuring and whispers could be heard from the crowd. Several of the guards held their weapons a bit tighter, as if suddenly realizing the potential threat these three soldiers and this civilian posed.
“Is this true?” asked Belshazzar. “You have fought and defeated the Zodarks?”
“My soldiers and I have fought many battles against the Zodarks, and, yes, we have won many of them,” Royce confirmed. “My people are still in a war with them that continues to this day. We are also part of a much larger alliance—an alliance called the Galactic Empire. It’s led by another alien raced called the Altairians. They’re an even more advanced race than the Zodarks.”
“You said your name was Captain Royce?” Belshazzar asked hesitantly.
Royce nodded slightly. “My given name is Brian. My surname or family name is Royce. My military rank is captain. My soldiers call me Captain Royce, but Hadad and other civilians just call me by my first name, Brian,” he explained.
Nodding in understanding, Belshazzar smiled warmly at him—the first time he’d smiled at the Earthers. “Then it is a pleasure to meet you, Captain. Did you really hear our distress call, or were you traveling to our system for another reason?”
This old guy is smarter than he looks, Royce thought.
Royce detached the small voice translator device from his helmet and took it off so he could see them, and they could see his face and eyes. He felt this explanation would come across better if they could see his facial expressions.
Taking his helmet off, he held up a small device. “This device is called a universal translator. When I speak in my own language, it will translate my words into your own.” Pointing to just behind his ear, Royce explained, “Inside my inner ear is another device that allows me to understand everything you’re saying. I wanted to take my helmet off so we can talk as friends, as fellow humans, and not as foreign soldiers.”
Belshazzar smiled and nodded at the gesture. The guards who were still standing also appeared to relax a bit.
Using his neurolink, Royce told the others they should also take their helmets off, so the Sumerians could see them and their faces as well. This was a first-contact mission now. They needed to gather as much information as they could, and that required build
ing trust and doing so swiftly.
“You have a woman soldier,” commented one of the Sumerian guards.
Corporal Iris Wells smiled as she proudly replied, “Our people have many women soldiers. My name is Corporal Iris Wells. I’m originally from Topeka, Kansas, on Earth. I have been serving in the Army Special Forces for eight years.”
Some of the female Sumerians appeared surprised, but also pleased to see a strong female soldier like her.
Captain Royce proudly explained, “In our society, all people are treated as equals. They are given equal opportunities to grow as a person and excel in whatever pursuits they may choose. That is why our people, our government, is called the Republic. Our government is a representative republic, meaning we hold elections, and it’s through those elections that our government is formed and the laws that govern us are created.”
“Wow, that is a unique system your people have developed,” Belshazzar commented. “I am sure Hadad has probably explained to you how our people are governed,” he said, pointing to the Sumerians. “Our leaders—if you can call them that—are selected by our Zodark overlords.” Belshazzar paused for a moment before he added, “It didn’t use to be like that. There was a time when we Sumerians used to rule ourselves without the Zodarks. Heck, there was a time when we and the Zodarks actually lived in peace together. I mean, I wouldn’t say it was the best of relationships—they still demanded their tributes—but they didn’t rule our people with an iron fist like they have the last two hundred years.”
Royce let the man talk for a little while, explaining their society and people to him. While Royce knew a lot about the Sumerians already, he still enjoyed hearing more about their people. He sent a message to Sergeant Peterson for him and Private Chandler to bring enough MREs to give all thirty-three survivors a meal, along with some water and the med kit.
“Belshazzar,” Royce said, attempting to regain control of the conversation, “can you tell us what happened on the station and the colony below? When did all of this take place?”
Belshazzar sighed as he nodded. The old man looked like he had known he was going to have to explain this to them at some point but had been doing his best to avoid it for as long as he could.
“I am not sure of your time standards or how you judge time, but the situation with the Zodarks and our people started to turn bad approximately six tannals ago,” Belshazzar said.
Hadad interrupted to clarify, “Six tannals is approximately twelve years.”
“Thank you, Hadad. Please, continue, Belshazzar,” Royce said, “And please, call me Brian.”
Smiling, Belshazzar continued, “Six tannals ago, the Zodarks told us that a wild band of workers at the penal camps on Clovis had somehow risen up and killed many guards at one of the camps. We had no idea what that meant, why they were upset about it, or why they were directing that anger towards us. None of us even knew where Clovis was, and we had no ability to travel there. But when this happened, the Zodarks clamped down harder on our society.
“There were some small pockets of subversive groups out there among the Sumerians, but they were loosely organized, and their numbers were small. However, when it was learned that the prisoners in one of the mining camps had overthrown and killed their Zodark guards, the perceived invincibility of the Zodarks suddenly evaporated. These subversive groups began to grow, and they also became even harder to track and uncover,” Belshazzar explained.
“I am not sure when this happened, but one of our people learned from a Zodark that their soldiers and fleet had lost control of Clovis. The Zodarks that told our people about this explained it was lost during a major space battle between an elder race the Zodarks have been at war with—that it wasn’t the Sumerian prisoners who defeated them. Still, the sudden realization that the Zodarks could be beaten gave us hope that they could be defeated here in our home system. These rebellious groups grew like wildfire. No matter how hard the government tried to suppress them, holding trials and even public executions, their numbers continued to grow.”
“I’m not sure of the man’s name, but someone on Hortuna, our other colony in the system, invented a rudimentary laser blaster,” Belshazzar continued. “It’s similar to the one you see our guards here use. This was something we were not allowed to have. Not even our security forces were allowed to have blaster weapons. The Zodarks gave us a stun weapon that, when fired, disables someone for a short period of time. That was the only weapon we were allowed to have, and it was only used by our security forces.”
Royce and his people sat listening with bated breath, enthralled by what they were hearing. Just then, Sergeant Peterson and Private Chandler arrived, bringing with them several boxes of MREs. They didn’t have a lot of MREs on the ship; their primary source of food was their replicators.
The Earthers passed out the food and water, explaining how to open and heat them the MREs. The survivors eagerly ate the food, commenting to each other how good it was.
As they ate, Royce asked, “So what you’re saying is when your people realized the Zodarks could be defeated, some people began to find ways to create new weapons that could take them on?”
The old man nodded as he finished the last of his MRE. “Exactly. You see, we couldn’t use the stun weapons the Zodarks had given our security forces. Those weapons could be turned off by the Zodarks. We had to create our own version. But they couldn’t be built on Sumer. There was too much surveillance, and frankly, when the Zodarks offered a bounty for anyone who turned in a member of the resistance, or someone who was working on something that could be construed as a weapon, it became nearly impossible to develop such a thing on Sumer.
“So a small group of people began to develop it on Hortuna. You see, Hortuna is a big planet, just like Sumer. But it also has high mountains with snow on them. If there’s one thing the Zodarks do not like, it’s cold temperatures and snow,” he said with a slight chuckle. “A small cave was turned into a weapons lab, away from prying eyes. That’s when they developed our blaster weapon. It was small and relatively easy to disassemble and reassemble, so it could be smuggled more easily. It was also easy to mass produce with the technology we had. But this wouldn’t be enough—even if we could kill a few dozen or even thousands of Zodark soldiers, we had nothing that could take on their warships.
“That’s when someone came up with the idea of hijacking one of their vessels. Looking back on it, it was a terribly silly and stupid idea, one that ultimately cost the lives of tens of millions. But these resistance fighters seemed hell-bent on their cause no matter the consequences. There was just no reasoning with them,” Belshazzar explained glumly.
“So what happened?” Hadad asked, desperate to know what had happened to his own family.
Belshazzar turned to Hadad. The sadness in his eyes was palpable. “They called it the Day of Liberation, but it was anything but liberation. All across Sumer, Hortuna and even here on Tallanis, these resistance fighters rose up and attacked the Zodarks everywhere they could. Zodark stations across the colonies and on the home world were attacked by these resistance groups. But the main attack focused on my station here.
“At the time, I was completely unaware of what was happening. We had three Zodark ships docked here: two were transports taking on refined materials from the mines below, and the other ship was a cruiser. We normally don’t see cruisers or battleships in our system, so I believe the resistance thought this was their best chance at capturing a warship.
“When the attack happened, it was lightning fast. Faster than I thought a poorly trained group could execute. The resistance was able to storm the Zodark ships and fought an intense battle on board. In less than twenty minutes, they had seized control of the station, isolating me and my staff in this portion of the station. I am not one hundred percent sure what transpired next, but they did manage to take control of the Zodark ships. Shortly afterwards, they left the station and went about attacking the other Zodark ships in the system.
“O
ur computer monitors provided news reports of fighting taking place all across the colonies and Sumer. Zodark soldiers fought fiercely against the resistance fighters while the central government pleaded with the resistance to lay down their weapons before more people were killed—”
Royce interrupted to ask, “When did this uprising take place?”
Belshazzar replied, “Approximately one tannal ago.”
OK, so two years, Royce thought as he did the conversion in his head.
“Is that when the Zodarks attacked your station?”
Belshazzar shook his head. “No, that came later. After about a week of fighting against the Zodarks, the resistance did eventually win. They captured many Zodarks and paraded them through the city. Many people spat on them, hit them with rocks and rotting food. For about two weeks, everyone thought we had rid ourselves of these beasts.
“Then a large fleet arrived at the stargate. Our three stolen ships were promptly destroyed. When the fleet moved through the system, they systematically destroyed all our ships. Our small freighters and transports, shuttles…everything. When they reached our station, they landed a boarding team, which systematically killed everyone they came across, even people trying to surrender. We locked ourselves in here. One of my staff came up with the quick idea of dropping the temperature in the place so the Zodarks would either leave or believe the station had been severely damaged.
“We even vented a couple of sections of the station before the automated safety features kicked in and restored pressurization to the station once again. By this point, the Zodark soldiers had left the station. We watched in horror as they bombarded part of the colony below. Then they launched waves of landing ships to the surface. When we saw what was happening…it was horrible.” Belshazzar had to stop for a moment. He wiped away some tears as he sought to regain his voice.
Many of the other Sumerians were also crying; a couple of the women fell apart emotionally and started weeping and sobbing. A man held one of them as the two of them cried together.