Wrath of an Angry God: A Military Space Opera (The Sentience Trilogy Book 3)

by Gibson Michaels

  Without letting her go, Drix then turned to her stunned father and said, “Her teeth are actually in surprisingly good shape. I’d have surely thought that they’d all been half-eaten away by now, from all that acid she’s known for spitting.”

  Harf stared incredulously at Drix, who still held his wriggling daughter, who could do little more than gurgle, with her jaws being held firmly apart. Then, the substance of Drix’ comment hit him, and the impact of seeing his troublesome daughter being thoroughly dominated and held mute in such a ridiculous position suddenly sent Harf into gales of side-splitting laughter.

  * * * *

  The Alliance Planet Massa, City of Bostin

  December 25, 3865

  “That really was a marvelous story that Hal told us,” said Noreen.

  “I consider myself rather well read, but I’d certainly never heard that one before either,” replied Diet.

  “The parts about Tiny Tim almost brought me to tears.”

  “What do you mean, almost?” Diet replied. “You were sniffling through that whole section.”

  Noreen elbowed him in the ribs.

  “Hey! What the hell was that for?”

  “That was for being so ungentlemanly as to even mention my sniffling. It was odd though, it almost like Hal had the book right there beside him and was reading it to us.”

  “Probably the computer.”

  “Probably. He certainly didn’t recite all that from memory.”

  If only you knew, sweetheart. If only you knew.

  “Well, tall, dark and macho, are you ready to retire to the boudoir and give me my first, yearly Christmas ravishing?”

  Diet grinned at her and answered, “Most assuredly, ma cherie, but I have one more present for you first.”

  “Another present? For me?”

  “Yes, but this one is a bit different,” Diet said. “You don’t have to keep this one, if you don’t want to, as it comes with strings attached. You’re stuck with all the others though.”

  “Strings attached? What kind of Christmas present comes with strings attached?” Noreen asked.

  “This kind.” Diet reached into his pocket and brought out a beautifully and expertly wrapped little present with a tiny golden bow… just the right size for a ring-box and Noreen’s heart leapt into her throat.

  Oh God… Oh God… Oh God.

  Noreen’s fingers trembled a little as she daintily unwrapped the little present, being careful not to tear the gold and silver paper, for some unfathomable reason that even she didn’t understand. Sure enough, what lay inside the paper was most definitely a ring-box and Noreen found herself praying that it wasn’t just some fancy dinner-ring inside.

  It wasn’t. When she opened the box, inside was the most beautiful ring she’d ever seen — a whopping 6-carat, certified flawless, Fancy Vivid Yellow Marquise-cut diamond ring with three round, ¾-carat, white diamonds mounted on either side, set in platinum and 18kt two-tone gold… most definitely an engagement ring.

  Oh God… Oh God… Oh God.

  “Oh God, Diet... it’s beautiful,” Noreen whispered, as tears welled in her eyes. “I mean absolutely beautiful. I’ve never seen a ring this beautiful before. Does this mean, what I think it means?”

  Diet nodded. “Noreen, God knows the whole idea scares me to death, but I’ve finally admitted it to myself that I’ve fallen in love with you… deeply and madly in love with you. I don’t want to go through the rest of my life without you right there beside me, so here goes nothing.” Diet gulped and got down on one knee and took her hands in his. Looking right into her eyes and deep down into her soul, he said, “I love you, Noreen. Will you marry me?”

  Suddenly BioCom and all those years she’d struggled and sacrificed to climb the corporate ladder and gain the career she had always thought she wanted, meant nothing. Nothing meant anything, except for this sweet, gentle, loving and thoroughly enigmatic man here before her.

  As a single tear slowly slid down each cheek, she looked down at Diet and said, “Took you long enough to finally figure it out, ‘ah… John.’ YES, YES, YES, of course I’ll marry you… you big lummox!”

  And then she lunged for him.

  * * * *

  The Rak Planet Peran

  December, 3865

  “Region-Master Drix. I must say that was one of the most extraordinary things I’ve ever witnessed in my entire life,” said a thoroughly impressed Region-Master Harf. “I’ve never seen my daughter that angry. She was so angry she couldn’t even find words... just a bunch of sputtering and hissing. It was actually quite marvelous!”

  “She was complaining that you were making her feel like a brood-mare being examined before an auction,” replied Drix. “I just decided in that case, perhaps it would be good for her to be treated like one.”

  “I’ll never forget that look of total disbelief on her face, when you finally let go of her,” said Harf. “I’ve never seen N’raal at such a complete loss for words before. It was priceless!”

  Drix nodded in recognition of Harf’s words.

  “Still,” Harf continued, “physically assaulting my daughter right in front of me, in my own house, without some kind of understanding between us, is a bit awkward, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Yes, I can see where it might be,” replied Drix. “I take it you’re wondering whether I might actually be interested in N’raal as a potential mate, and whether I could handle her without being brutal to her, is that it?”

  “Ah, I’m afraid you’ve quite read my mind, Region-Master,” replied Harf. “You’re very perceptive. That’s exactly what I was wondering.”

  “If we’re to the point of discussing a possible betrothal,” said Drix, “might we dispense with all the cumbersome titles between us, here in private?”

  “Betrothal?” asked a startled Harf. “Did you say betrothal?”

  “Isn’t that what we’ve been discussing?”

  Harf was quite taken aback. “Betrothal… I dare say I’d quite lost hope of ever hearing that word uttered, when discussing my daughter. Why would you even consider it? Dol knows, she’d certainly make you miserable with that poisonous tongue of hers. Is an alignment with my region so important, that you’d risk suffering a lifetime of her screaming fits, to achieve it?”

  Drix chuckled. “You mistake me, Harf. N’raal is just spirited, not incorrigible. She’s strong-willed and yet to meet a male, or I daresay anyone else, who she couldn’t break with just the sheer force of her personality. She appears a bit wild and uncontrollable, because she’s always succeeded in setting her own boundaries. But she’s not happy like this.”

  “Not happy, you say?” asked Harf, somewhat perplexed. “Dol knows that I’ve never seen her actually ‘happy’ about much of anything... always grumbling and sniping about something or other. But what makes you say, she’s not happy?”

  “Rak females are generally submissive in nature, when compared to that of the male,” said Drix. “In rare instances, a female is sometimes born with the aggressive, dominant soul of a male, and she finds herself constantly challenging her assigned role in life... as for her, submission is not a part of her nature. She constantly appears dissatisfied with everything and everyone around her, because she’s unsatisfied within her own self. She recognizes that society has no place for one such as she. But it’s NOT a case where she will not change, but that she cannot change who she is, to fit within society’s mold.

  “But her hormones betray her when she comes into heat, and when she finds herself at war with her own body. This is not a happy state. So she holes up in her den, striking out at any who dare approach, not because she enjoys isolation, but because it’s safe. She purposely drives everyone away, because it’s only when she’s alone that she’s not being subjected to societal pressures for her to change what she cannot change about herself. But she’s not happy in her self-imposed isolation, merely less unhappy.”

  Harf mused over Drix’ astounding words for a few moments, absorbing
and testing each thought and precept.

  Dol, he described her behavior perfectly. How is it possible that he knows N’raal better than I do… than any of us do, really? How is it that Drix seems to understand her so well? He’s never even met her before today. Dol knows, no one around here has ever understood her moodiness and constant vexation with virtually everything. Perhaps Dol has seen fit to show mercy on my poor daughter, by finally sending her a male who can at least offer her understanding. All any of us here can seem to offer her is exasperation.

  “This is yet another example of how Dol has blessed you, with wisdom far beyond your years, Drix,” answered Harf at last. “I see that you somehow seem to understand N’raal even better than I. Your words have finally made me understand my daughter’s plight — something we were all blind to. Tell me son, is there any answer for my poor, afflicted child? Is there any escape for her, from this wretched condition you described? Is there any hope at all, that somehow, she may yet discover real happiness in her life?”

  Drix smiled. “Of course there is. Tell me, back in the ancient days before the Dolrak were given the secrets of hypnotics and all Raknii were stoneless, how was dominance established back in those early tribal days?”

  “Dominance combat, of course.”

  “And after dominance combat, were the losers brutalized by the victors?”

  Harf considered this question. It had been a long time since he’d studied the histories. Probably too long. “No,” Harf said finally. “There were some aberrations perhaps, but generally only enough force was used to prompt the weaker to expose his belly and throat in submission to the stronger.”

  “And after dominance was determined, were the beta-males later miserable, being subject to the alpha-male?”

  Harf had to considered this question, too. It has definitely been too long since I studied the histories. “No, once dominance was established, the beta-males shared in all the benefits of the pride... until the females’ heat cycle came upon them, and the alpha-male drove them out.”

  “And after being driven out,” Drix continued, “were these beta-males not then free to mature and explore and then create new prides of their own, as Dol provided? Free then, to develop into alpha-males in their own right? Was not the key to their finally obtaining the freedom necessary to find happiness in life, not found in the losing of that initial dominance combat?”

  “Yes, but I don’t see how this applies to N’raal.”

  “N’raal has been engaging in dominance combat all her life, and she has yet to lose one. She has a stoneless male’s spirit within her, whose influence can never be tamed, until she meets up with an even stronger alpha.

  “Alpha-males didn’t always win challenges to their dominance because they were merely better fighters, but because they truly were dominant, down to every fiber of their being. That’s why a few dominance combats were eventually fought to the death. It just wasn’t within either of them to submit. Death was the only deciding factor.”

  Harf sat dismally, considering what he knew of his daughter. “I’ve never seen anyone with a strength of will stronger than N’raal’s,” said Harf. “I’m afraid that any test of wills with that one, will be to the death.”

  “N’raal may have the spirit of a stoneless male within her, but she is still female. Her hormones will respond when confronted by a true alpha-male. I’m sure of it.”

  “Do you really believe that you possess such a dominant alpha-spirit, with such a deep reserve of strength within you, Drix? Even in heat, she’ll try to kill you, rather than allow you to mount her, you know.”

  “I know that she’ll certainly try,” Drix replied. “Others have tried, and like them, she’ll fail. Unlike them, she will survive the attempt.”

  Harf marveled at the young Region-Master sitting next to him. “What is it that gives you such abounding confidence, young Drix, that even my legendary daughter seems to not give you pause?”

  Drix smiled. “My sire did not give me command over an entire region and an alien war just because of my heritage, Harf.”

  “Your sire?” said Harf, confused.

  “You said it yourself. I look just like him.”

  “Supreme-Master Xior is your sire?”

  Drix nodded. “Just as I am his heir.”

  “His heir!” said Harf, thunderstruck. “You’re Xior’s heir and you want N’raal, out of every female in the empire that you could pick from, as your consort?” Harf asked incredulously.

  “No, not my consort. I want N’raal as my mate. N’raal will become dam to my heir… the next Supreme-Master to take the throne after me.”

  N’raal, dam of a Supreme-Master. To think, that one of my descendents shall someday sit the throne of our entire empire.

  Harf finally made a commitment he would stick to… both to Drix and to Dol.

  * * * *

  The Confederate Planet Joja

  TBG Corporate Shipyard

  December, 3865

  Confederate Commander Michael Diamond, original captain of the very first Infiltrator class Intelligence vessel CSS Ghost, had been relieved of command to receive his full captaincy. He now had orders to report to the TBG Corporate Shipyard at Joja, to take delivery and command of the very first of the new Penetrator class — a light-cruiser size, heavy-cruiser armed, Intelligence vessel, whose very existence had been his original idea after the Battle of Nork, back in 3862. After having all of its systems and capabilities fully explained to Diamond and his crew from Ghost by TBG engineers and technicians, they all considered CSS Banshee an absolute marvel, far exceeding Diamond’s wildest expectations. Now he got to take her out for her shakedown cruise, and see what this new baby could really do.

  * * * *

  Chapter-6

  The taste of defeat has a richness of experience all its own. -- Bill Bradley

  The Planet Kitty Litter

  January, 3866

  Planet-Master Mraz debated within himself. He had learned a great deal about these ultimate predators, destined to cull the Raknii as Raknii culls heard beasts. He found it amazing that these humans did not hunt for glory, the way that Raknii do. They claimed to fight and kill merely in self-defense. They claimed that if the Raknii would leave them alone in the future, they would in turn, leave the Raknii alone as well. They claimed that trade might be established and both races would benefit from it. They claimed that no more had to die on either side, in this Great Hunt the supreme-master had proclaimed. They and their philosophies were so utterly alien, yet Mraz found wisdom in their logic. Even stranger, Mraz found himself actually liking some of them!

  The supreme-master had need of the information that Mraz had gathered, after surrendering the planet to these aliens. But, how to get that information to him? Mraz had turned over the few x-space capable scout vessels that he’d had at his disposal, as part of the surrender conditions. The aliens claimed they’d prefer to talk and negotiate with the supreme-master, rather than making war with him. Was it possible that Kalis would allow him to send a message to Supreme-Master Xior on Raku?

  Of course, even if Kalis approved of it the voyage would be highly perilous, as all of their star-charts and other navigational aids had been wiped from the scouts computers before being turned over to the humans. Was it possible to even find Raku, using nothing more than dead reckoning?

  Dead was certainly the predominate word in that question, wasn’t it?

  What should Mraz do? For that matter, what could Mraz do? The two were very probably mutually exclusive. In the meantime, Kalis had already sent six of his fleets to attack six other Raknii worlds at the same time. Six! Mraz had the strong suspicion that Kalis would only attack when he felt he had overwhelming force at his disposal, just as he had when he attacked here. But how had Kalis known that his 200 warships would be so effective, in devastating so many Rak warships before most even came within firing range?

  Kalis had not come in blind... of that he was sure. How had Kalis scouted this syst
em before his attack? The Rak fleet had detected no alien ships coming into the system for scouting purposes and this system had no great ring of asteroids for an intruder to hide in, as Tzal had done at Minnos. So how had Golgathal been scouted? For that matter, how had the humans even found the location of Golgathal in the first place? Yes, Mraz had certainly answered a lot of questions about these aliens, but he also had a lot more questions that needed answering.

  * * * *

  The Confederate Planet Ginia

  January, 3866

  Back in 3861, during the early days of the Confederate War of Independence, the Confederate government had authorized construction of three asteroid-battleships and contracted with the German conglomerate Tydlich Bundesgenosse Gespenster to build them. Initially envisioned as massive missile launching platforms for use against the Alliance fleet, the realities of the alien war against the Raknii had changed their focus, as massive energy weapons platforms were far more expedient against this new enemy.

  This development allowed TBG to shorten the original estimated completion time considerably, after design revisions had been approved by the procurement department of the Confederate Fleet, allowing usage of the energy weapons systems that had been stripped off of the eight missile-battleship conversions, which were then brought in from the Mystic Fleet Shipyard. The Norf Naval Shipyard at Ginia also had a plethora of energy weapons systems of various sizes on-hand, which had been cannibalized off of irreparable warships of both sides, destroyed during the campaigns of 1st and 2nd Ginia, Maylan and all three battles fought at Tensee. TBG utilized the cost savings from this change in their design specs to build all new, massive, triple 21-gigawatt main weapons turrets, to augment all of this readily available weaponry.

  The hollowing out of the interiors of those nickel-iron asteroids with laser drills had taken the most time, but without the need for complicated missile auto-loader systems or massive missile storage magazines, TBG completed work on the three asteroid-battleships leaving a minimum depth of at least 500 feet of its nickel-iron surface to act as armor for the huge vessels — each of which massed over a thousand times as much as an attack carrier.