Extinction Wars: 02 - Planet Strike

by Vaughn Heppner

  I’d anticipated that, and swept my arm to the rear. Dmitri opened the door, and there stood the old and rather forlorn-looking adept. Ella stood behind him, wearing her flowing nightgown.

  “Have they touched the stone of God?” Venturi asked.

  The room grew deathly silent. Every Lokhar leaned forward to hear the answer.

  “No,” the ancient said. “They have awe regarding the relic. I…I am surprised. They esteem what should be esteemed.”

  Admiral Venturi turned to his honor guard and to the adepts and acolytes. “It is as I’ve said. The oracle does not lie. It told us we would gain honorable allies in the humans. They are different from us, but they are able to regard with awe what should be so regarded.”

  Dmitri closed the door and that was all we saw of the Esteemed One.

  Venturi sat down across from me. His aides flanked him at the table. It reminded me of old pictures I’d seen in Time magazine as a kid. On one side of a SALT II negotiating team had been large dour Soviet delegates. On the other side of the table had sat leaner Americans.

  “I am pleased you have treated the Esteemed One with regard,” Venturi told me.

  “He carries the Creator’s…” I groped for the right word.

  “Stone,” Venturi said. “It is the Great Maker’s stone.”

  “Thank you, Supreme Lord Admiral,” I said.

  We stared at each other. He spoke first once again.

  “Perhaps you have tainted me, Commander Creed. I have done a terrible deed.”

  “Yes?”

  “After much thought, I impounded the Emperor’s personal race-vessel. I have kept the crew quarantined from my people. I did this as you suggested, so we could carry on our mission.”

  “You have done your duty to your people and to the universe,” I said.

  “You understand me, I see. Many of my highest officers do not.”

  “It is why you lead Orange Tamika and not them,” I said.

  “Yes. I believe this myself.”

  “How can I assist you?” I asked.

  “Return the Esteemed One to us,” Venturi said promptly.

  “I will…once the Commando Army leaves Indomitable and heads down to the portal planet.”

  “You are making this difficult.”

  “Perhaps you’re right,” I said. “But could it be that the Emperor has made it difficult for both of us?”

  “He has,” Venturi said. He looked away, sighed deeply and regarded me. “It cannot be as it was. You realize this, yes?”

  “How was it?”

  “I took you into our confidence. I let you into the strategy session. That can never happen again.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “If we close the portal, I am glad and we will have done our duty.”

  “The Lokhars can never trust the humans again,” Venturi said. “After this is over, we will have to go to war against your world.”

  I couldn’t restrain myself at that. “You already went to war against us once.”

  “No. That was to save you—”

  “Okay,” I said. “I can’t do this your way. It’s too slow and it gives me a headache. We have your stone. Are you going to stay on task and attack the portal planet?”

  Venturi glowered, but said, “I am.”

  “Do you want our help closing the portal?”

  Venturi’s chest swelled, and he leaned forward. “You are rash, Earthman. I, too, can throw aside ancient customs and speak as my heart compels me.”

  “It’s about time,” I said.

  He snarled, a loud sound, and he slammed a fist onto the table. “If you touch the artifact, I will return to your world before engaging the Kargs. If you give it back now—”

  “I won’t,” I said. “You get the stone once we leave your dreadnought.”

  He glared at me, and I felt his desire to slash my face into ribbons. He rose, I rose, and our people rose with us.

  “There is nothing left to say,” Venturi told me.

  “How about we practice our maneuvers together against the Karg menace?” I asked.

  “No,” he said. “I will do this without you.”

  “Is that what your oracle said?” I asked.

  He raised his head and roared like a lion from the African veldt. It put a chill in my spine, as my hand strayed to my weapon.

  With a trembling arm, he pointed at me. “You are untrustworthy. I sense it in you, Commander Creed. But I am the Supreme Lord Admiral Venturi. I adhere to my word. On my last mission, I will not sully my honor because Earthmen cannot act with decorum. You will join in the assault once we of Orange Tamika have prepared the way on the portal planet.”

  “Don’t get too puffed up,” I said. “We’re the ones who have to go through to the end. It’s not how you start a mission that counts, but whether you finish it or not.”

  “This is the last time I will speak to you face to face,” he said.

  “Sure,” I said. “But there’s one more thing. I want you to install a viewing screen for me. We need to see the enemy in action so we can figure out what to do, and do better, when the time comes.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “Not to a Lokhar,” I said. “But you’ve already admitted that we’re much different. Let us do things our way while you do it yours. We need to see the enemy. We need to get an idea about hyperspace. Install the screen and a communications system between our two commands. You know as well as I that we’re going to have to coordinate this.”

  “Did you not just hear me?” Venturi asked. “I despise your face.”

  “I heard you. We won’t be talking in person, so you’ll be keeping your oath. Look. This isn’t about us anyway. You sought me out because the oracle told you to. It must have done that for a reason, right?”

  “You have battle wisdom,” Venturi admitted slowly. “But you lack decorum.”

  “We all have to live with our faults,” I said with a shrug.

  Venturi hesitated before saying, “Let me see the Esteemed One again.”

  “Nope,” I said. “Once you install the screen and communications between our command centers, then and only then can you or your representatives see him again.”

  “You guarantee to do this?”

  “I do,” I said.

  Without another word, without a salute, Admiral Venturi headed for the door. His retinue hurried after him. As meetings went with Lokhars, this had been short indeed.

  The next time I’d seen his face again, the Kargs would be attacking. The problem was, that happened far sooner than any of us anticipated.

  -20-

  In our area of Indomitable, the colonels ran their tumens through brutal exercises. As they did, Lokhar techs linked a screen to the dreadnought’s main bridge.

  Several days passed in tedium. Then the terrifying announcement came: we were about to enter hyperspace.

  Ella had spent many long days with the Esteemed One. Through him, she learned some interesting things. As we’d suspected some time ago, the First Ones had made the jump routes. They had done so with their Forerunner technology. The former Altair Object had been one of those, at least according to the Esteemed One’s lore.

  Jump routes were like folds in space, and they allowed us newer races to zip from star system to star system without having to pay the time cost of Einsteinian physics. They also made some star systems more strategically important than others.

  The three dreadnoughts had used jump routes. We’d hardly noticed, however. Usually, entering a jump point was physically hurtful. People threw up, got headaches and felt as if they had the flu. The fantastically thick outer hulls, together with extremely bulky tech, had kept us from feeling those normal jump effects. That was a military advantage, I thought. It came at great cost, though, a literal high construction price.

  Through the Esteemed One, Ella confirmed our suspicion that dreadnoughts cost oodles of money. The reason for the price became obvious today.

  Klaxons wa
iled, and onscreen, a Lokhar officer informed me that we would be entering hyperspace in another hour.

  I’d set up a control center in the human area of the ship, similar to what I’d had on the Jelk battlejumper. Through N7, Ella and other bridge officers, I issued orders. All but a few corridor guards were to head to their sleeping quarters and strap down. We’d heard enough about hyperspace to figure out this was going to be bad.

  I’d had cots installed on the bridge for us. Time passed, more klaxons wailed, and each of us lay down. Our main screen showed what the tigers saw on their main screen. We also had a link to some of their sensors.

  “Commander,” N7 said. He’d elected to remain at his station while the rest of us lay down. His uniform rustled as he made adjustments. “My board shows a weakening of the space-time continuum at grid 24-A-12.”

  “You should have let Sant onto our bridge,” Ella told me.

  “There’s no time for that now,” I said. “Besides, Sant assured us he could not take the initial hyperspace effect as well as we could.”

  “Observe, Commander,” N7 said. “It’s beautiful.”

  His words startled me enough that I unstrapped myself, stood and switched my station’s screen to N7’s panel. I don’t know why he’d failed to put the image onto the main screen. A riot of colors erupted against my eyeballs. They twisted like rainbow-colored snakes in an obscenely pornographic way.

  I glanced at N7. The android’s mouth was slack. What was going on inside his bio-brain?

  The colors swirled faster and faster. Then it seemed as if more rainbow snakes entered the passionate rioting. They merged and darkened to an inky blackness that blotted out stars.

  “This must be the rip that will let us out of our universe,” N7 said.

  My mouth turned dry. Then the darkness became complete, and something sinister and vile appeared there. It seemed to be a nullity of existence, nothingness beyond even empty vacuum. It appeared to me that this was true nothing, if such a phrase even made sense.

  A hole appeared with swirling rioting rainbow colors along the edges. Dreadnought Glory slid through the opening into hyperspace, with the second dreadnought following. Finally, it was our turn.

  A fear I couldn’t explain hit me, worse than any stomach-churning bogyman feeling I’d had as a kid. Once, as a teenager, after listening to Art Bell on the radio on a show about demons, I’d had the worst nightmare of my life. I’d lain in bed, and it had felt as if a nine-foot demon hovered over me with a wavy-bladed dagger in his scaly hand. That doesn’t sound bad in the light of day. But it was as I’d lain in bed, too frozen with fear to move. I could feel that demon-knife inching closer and closer to my face. My throat had locked, my lips wouldn’t work and I’d just about pissed in my bed.

  At the last moment, my mom opened the door and flicked on the lights. I thought to see swirls of inky darkness where the demon had been. Then I moved my head and looked over at my mom.

  “I thought you had the dog in here,” she said. “I heard whimpering as if the dog wanted to go outside. That couldn’t have been you, could it?”

  I still couldn’t have spoken, but I’d shaken my head.

  “Good night, dear,” she said. The door closed.

  I hadn’t gone to sleep for hours, and every few minutes I’d checked where the dream demon had stood. It had been the worst nightmare ever.

  I’d almost forgotten the feeling. I remembered now, because a similar fear came upon me in waves. Was that the extent of real demons: non-space, non-reality?

  I stood there, gripping the station’s edges, trembling, trying to get my fear under wraps.

  Then a puking sickness struck. I couldn’t hold on to the post. I was too busy with my arms wrapped around my gut as I spewed onto the floor. We all did. I kept vomiting. I wanted to stop. We’d never get anywhere if this continued the entire trip.

  Soon, there was nothing left to spew. With a sweaty face, I resumed my spot at my commander’s station. I glanced at a few of the people on the cots. Tears streaked their cheeks and some had vomit stains on their chins.

  “We’re okay,” I said, in a weak voice. I tried to clear my throat. The fear was still too stark.

  “Hyperspace is haunted,” Rollo groaned.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Nonsense,” Ella whispered.

  “You can say that after having seen the holy relic?” I asked.

  “Of course I can,” she said, and she sounded angry. With the anger, strength entered her voice. Maybe that was the trick.

  I tried it, drumming up rage against the Lokhars for nuking Earth. It helped, driving away some of the fear just as my mom flicking on the light switch that night had helped. I told the others about my find.

  “Yes. It makes sense,” Ella said. “The angriest person we have is our leader. Maybe that’s why the oracle supposedly chose him. Hmm…I wonder why a similar process doesn’t work for the Lokhars.”

  “Different races have different reactions,” I said. “I want everyone to concentrate. Think about what pisses you off the most. Fixate on that.”

  Slowly, my command team resumed their posts. Everyone scowled.

  I studied the screen afterward, which was black, just black, a viral nullity.

  “Imagine spending years out here,” Ella said.

  “Why do you say that?” I asked. “We won’t be here that long?”

  “Because that’s how long the dreadnoughts have been patrolling this region as they search for the Jelk universe.”

  We fell silent as Lokhars in the real command room began growling at each other.

  “What are they seeing?” I asked. “Why do they sound worried?”

  “I’m bringing up a far scan,” N7 said, “and putting it on our main screen.”

  I glanced there, and in the blackness were three snowflake-shapes. I had no idea how far away those things were.

  “Do you know what they are?” Ella asked.

  It clicked. I knew, and I said in a quavering voice, “Those are Karg ships. Don’t you remember seeing them in the video?”

  Klaxons rang.

  “Are we running away?” Ella asked.

  “Negative,” N7 said. “It appears as if our flotilla is changing course. We’re heading toward the Kargs.”

  “If they are Kargs,” Ella said.

  “What else would you expect to find in hyperspace?” I asked.

  “If they’re Kargs,” Ella said, “aren’t they a long ways from the portal?”

  “The Lokhars are firing,” N7 said.

  I kept looking at the main screen. A gigantic laser beam flashed across the distance. Then another joined in and one more. Each dreadnought sent a searing beam of concentrated light at the nearest Karg vessel.

  “How big are those beams?” I whispered.

  “Larger than the biggest Jelk laser,” N7 answered.

  The three lasers kept reaching out. They seemed to be moving slower than they should be, almost as if we watched the light move. Finally, I had a little bit of an idea on the size of the Karg vessels. The lasers burned into a tiny section of the snowflake. It would be like needle-pricks sticking a bull, flea attacks. Despite the miniscule size, that piece of snowflake apparently disintegrated and crumpled. As if falling, the piece went down, down, down. Then small sections of the piece turned and headed our way.

  “What’s going on?” Ella asked.

  “What are those?” I said.

  “I’m magnifying the images,” N7 said.

  A fuzzy Karg vessel leaped into view, long, with a dark energy tail spewing behind it. That the dark tail showed up against black hyperspace was interesting. Clinging to the pod were moth-like ships with glowing nuclear eyes. I don’t know how else to describe them. What would have been wings on a moth—or a ship—twitched.

  “Are those things alive?” Ella asked.

  “What?” I asked. “Living creatures in space? That’s preposterous.”

  “No,” Ella said. “That would m
ake it different from us, but it wouldn’t be preposterous. Scientists have long ago foreseen space-living creatures.”

  “They must be robots,” I said, “androids like N7.”

  “I cannot live in space without a suit,” N7 pointed out.

  “Well, you know what I mean,” I said.

  “Perhaps the moth-ships once fed off sunlight,” Ella said. “The wings might be like giant solar panels.”

  “Whatever energizes them,” I said, “they’re detaching from the pod.”

  Twenty or more moth-ships detached. They spewed a brighter colored exhaust as the vessels accelerated toward us.

  The dreadnought lasers switched targets, like a kid with his finger on a garden hose spraying his sister. You could actually see the last light bolt. When he switched targets, you could see the last stream of water but with nothing else behind it. That’s what it was like today, with a last stream of light. Hyperspace had different physical laws all right. This was evidence of it.

  Three dreadnought lasers concentrated on one moth-ship. They struck at the head with its twin eye glows. N7 magnified. The lasers chewed into the ship’s hull. We saw heated sections bleed away. Then the lasers stabbed into the vessel. There might have been mini-explosions. Bright objects and glowing sections of ship broke apart and tumbled away as if someone had lit a firecracker in the thing and we watched the reaction in slow motion. There was a molten core. Maybe it was the alien engine. Maybe it was the guts of a space moth. At this point, we didn’t know. From the images, though, we saw the rest of the moth-ships continue to bore toward the dreadnoughts.

  As our lasers retargeted onto a new moth-ship, miniscule objects or dots appeared at the farthest edge of the screen from the Kargs. The dots came from the direction of the dreadnoughts, so I assumed they were ours. I leaned forward, trying to understand what I saw.

  “Fighters,” N7 announced. “Fifty fighters from Dreadnought Glory are attacking.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Ella said. “The fighters couldn’t have gotten there that fast. Our lasers—”

  “Whoa!” I said, interrupting her.

  “Is there a problem, Commander?” N7 asked.