Armageddon's Pall: Spiral War Book 4

by S. F. Edwards

  Gondral waved off the rolling ball as it approached the trio. The Old Mind had taken on an almost guard dog-like persona since the beheading. Gondral had long expected the trio, and more importantly the four charges at their feet. Despite the hoods that covered all but their legs, Gondral recognized their gaits as Anulian, Drashig, Shinekian, and Chret.

  Gondral looked down upon the four like a proud parent but stood fas ground as the three scientists led them to a halt before Gondral. Fae stood there in a silence for a long time looking over the seven of them. The Chret drew particular interest with its new Anulian leg grafted on in place of one of its own. “Tell me what you have brought me.”

  The leader of the three scientists stepped forward and nodded, a third brain tail grafted onto mor skull. “Of course, Lord of All. We chose these four at random to give you a sampling of what we’ve achieved. We have already begun to deploy the first legions into the fleet.” Moe swept a hand towards the four hooded figures and mor two aide removed their coverings. The four were grotesque amalgamations of their former selves, their limbs having almost all been replaced with those that featured claws or spikes. Their skin had all taken on a grey sheen as artificial blood pumped through their veins to keep the alien parts alive. Then atop each of their heads sprouted a single small brain tail.

  Gondral regarded the four as their tiny brain tails twitched. “Will they remain loyal?”

  The second scientist stepped forward, a third brain tail sprouting from fas back. “Yes, Lord of All. Implantation of the brain tails removes their old sense of self. They will act as direct extensions of your will, or those you deem worthy,” the Gorvian explained, touching fas extra brain tail.

  Gondral took a knee and looked down at the four specimens. He focused for a moment on the Drashig and the Anulian. Their twitchy brain tails stopped and they turned to face one another. Without further warning the pair attacked each other. Claws and quills struck out with a viciousness few rational beings could muster as they tore at another. Grey-green blood sprayed, wetting their claws before Gondral snapped fas massive fingers; both figures stopped. They remained still for a moment, then went back to a position of attention before Gondral, blood pouring from their wounds without notice. “Impressive. Have our new allies offered up the numbers they promised?”

  The lead scientist nodded, a huge grin crossing mor gnarled lips. “And more so Lord of All. I just wish we could find a way to integrate them better. Their proteins are unfortunately incompatible with those of the Dondicks. The grafts won’t take root.”

  “What about their brain tails?”

  “Those hold firm with some minor changes Lord of All.” The scientist remained silent for a long moment as Gondral stood. Though moe tried not to, moe could not help but stare at the scar atop Gondral’s head. “Lord of All. Forgive the impertinence, but I know several psionics who would willingly donate one of their brain tails to replace the one you lost.”

  Gondral betrayed no emotion and stood still. The rolling ball that was the Old Mind wheeled about to give the Scientist a defiant gaze instead. Gondral’s brain tails twitched and the scientist took a knee, unable to look up from the deck. “I have recovered from my injury. The brain tail of a lesser Gorvian would do me no good,” Gondral replied with icy calm. “And, we have asked much of our psionics as it is. To make them even lesser would be a dishonor.” Gondral reached up and touched the scar, a tiny nub marking its center. “More so, I heal with the help of my latest progeny. Fas cells have already seen to start a regrowth.”

  “Of course, Lord of All,” the lead scientist squeaked. “Again, forgive my impertinence.”

  Gondral released control over the scientist and turned towards the distant Solar Core. “It’s forgiven, but short cuts are unnecessary. We Gorvians will rule this galaxy even if it takes a galactic orbit. Patience is with us.” Gondral turned back to the trio. “Your Mini-Gorvians will take the battle to the enemy in a way they’ll never expect. You three and your master have all earned the greatest of honors. Finish assembling my new legions. Then return to me, that your spirits might live on in the next generation,” Gondral continued with an unconscious lip twist. “You have elevated us to the level of our old masters with this act. The Tre-Tian would be proud.”

  Only Gondral remained standing at the mention of their creator's name. Even the Mini-Gorvians took a knee. “Stand my children. You have earned it.” The three scientists stood, pride emanating from them. “Now, return to your ships.”

  The three scientists started for the ramp, but the Mini-Gorvians refused to budge. They stared at the creatures imploring them to go, but Gondral held them there. “I said go,” Gondral ordered, and the trio left.

  Gondral let the silence return to the observation bubble before commanding the four Mini-Gorvians forward. The four took their places before Gondral as construction lights twinkled in the darkness, interrupted on occasion by the explosive death of yet another maintenance drone. Gondral sneered at that sight and one of the Mini-Gorvian struck out at the darkness, a symbol of that rage. “Have you an opinion Old Mind?”

  The orb rolled up beside Gondral and looked over the four Mini-Gorvian. “They are impressive Lord of All, but what of autonomy?”

  Gondral turned towards a sealed case across the bubble. “Let us find out,” Gondral replied and sent a mental command to the Mini-Gorvians to open the case and deal with the contents.

  The four Mini-Gorvians obeyed and surged towards the box without hesitation. They attacked with the same ferocity they had each other and soon opened the latch. The box collapsed open to reveal three captured Otlians within. Weakened by malnutrition and dehydration, they looked up at the Mini-Gorvian. Their looks of relief melted away in an instant as the abominations attacked. Cries of mercy rang out, but fell upon deaf ears, the Mini-Gorvians giving no quarter. It was over almost too quickly for Gondral, the Mini-Gorvians retreating to fas side in moments, blood and gore coating their bodies.

  “Autonomy does not appear to be an issue.”

  Gondish asked from the ether.

  Gondral turned to the transparent form as it lounged on the Old Mind’s ball.

 

  Gondral shook fas head. There had been one dissenter, mor skin now adorning Gondral’s throne.

  Cell 113, Gorvian Prison Ship-006, Doblius System

  Dwar Renwar knew he didn’t have much time left. In a cycle or less he would either be too weak to escape, or would no longer be himself. In the dim light of the cell he stared down at the cloth in his hands. The crude scribblings of blood were the prisoners’ only means of communication. The plan had taken so long to formulate that it was almost impossible with planners disappearing every few cycles, only to return as some horrid abomination.

  Try as he might not to, Dwar looked over at the bunk across from his. What remained of his former squad mate lay there. The twitching of his gnarled, grafted on brain tail proved the only indication of life. He’d been one of the earliest brain tail implantees; the process had left him catatonic. Death would have been better as the lack of food had all but forced the other occupants to feed on his flesh. That Dwar had managed to keep him alive this long was a small miracle in itself.

  Dwar’s right arm twitched and he looked down at the mutilated thing. The Rimdook limb they’d grafted to his shoulder left him unbalanced. The scaly skin was in marked contrast to his greying flesh. It wasn’t the only modification; his left hand had belonged to a Drashig colonist only a few cycles earlier. They’d even shifted his internal organs about to make room for something he could only imagine, the scars across his torso a constant source of irritation.
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  The colonists were the key to their escape. Or rather their embattled colony was. For over two decles now the ship had remained in a single system. The colonists revealed that they were within the remote Doblius System. The Confederation was still fighting to retain the system. If they could just make it onto one of the prison ship’s shuttles they could make a run to safety.

  A thrum ran through the cell floor and Dwar jumped to his feet. The Gorvians had dragged away three prisoners less than a hect earlier. Their sacrifices could lead to the salvation of the rest of them. Already extensively modified, the trio had only the final implantation of the brain tails awaiting them. Few ever returned from that operation and when they did, there was nothing left of their former selves.

  The thrum increased and Dwar took hold of the bars to his cell. All across the bay he could hear others do the same as the thrumming peaked. The dim lights of the cell flickered a moment later, the electronic locks of the doors clacking open and closed rapidly. Dwar shoved his door open in response. With one last look at his dying squad mate, he jumped to the corpse-littered floor below. Dozens more prisoners followed and they rushed the towards the single Gorvian guard awaiting them.

  The beast swung its massive shock stick at the prisoners, but it was to no avail. Driven mad by hunger and their desire to escape, the prisoners flooded over the Gorvian. They struck at their captor with the very weapons the Gorvians had grafted onto their bodies against their guard. The Gorvian managed to kill two of the prisoners before it fell. The assault was far from over and the prisoners dug into the Gorvian’s flesh; consumed it to sate their starvation.

  Dripping gore from the guard, Dwar ignored the blood orgy and climbed the console at the center of the room. “Get the gun,” he called and pointed towards the door. Looking up from their kill, four of the prisoners nodded and pulled the weapon free of its holster. Weak as they were, it took two of them to hold up the massive weapon while a third aimed and the fourth prepared to fire it. They held the weapon on the door and when Dwar saw that they were ready, he keyed the door open.

  Two more guards stood outside the door and looked in. The prisoners opened fire as soon as the guards had revealed themselves. They forced the two stunned guards back before the rest of the prisoners rushed them. Dwar jumped down from the console and joined in the slaughter. Pulling together another four-man team to crew another gun, he rushed them down the passageway to the ‘white room.’

  Dwar took up position with his team as the other two teams followed suit and the rest of the prisoners lined up outside the doorway. The door disappeared into the wall once keyed open and the gun crews opened fire. They didn’t even bother to aim. They three gun crews just laid down a hail of plaser fire into the room, shredding the three Gorvian scientists within. The rest of the prisoners rushed in and assaulted the three scientists while they stood transfixed, dumbfounded by the attack.

  Dwar dropped his gun and rushed into the ‘White Room.’ The lead surgeon was present, the prisoners tearing it apart as it screamed for what might have been mercy. Dwar just shook his head. The monster had offered none of them mercy when it had mutilated them. He turned away when a fountain of blood erupted from the Gorvian’s neck and made his way to the operating table. He climbed up the side knowing what he’d find, but it still turned his stomach. Three prisoners lay strapped down to the table, their skulls opened and brain tails grafted into place. The process was not yet complete however. Awake through the ordeal, they looked up at Dwar as he stood over them. “I’ll get you free.”

  All three shook their heads as best as they could and Dwar ungagged the nearest. “Kill us. You don’t know. I can already feel them inside my mind.”

  Dwar looked at the others and they nodded to him.

  His stomach turned at the thought. He had hoped to try and rescue the last three subjects, or that they would arrive too late to do anything. Instead he faced them alive but tortured beyond all reason. Dwar looked down and found a sword like scalpel on the table. He picked it up and looked back at the three, they nodded and closed their eyes. Swallowing hard, he ended all three of them with single stabs to their exposed brains.

  Turning back to the others, he found them feasting on the three Gorvians. The sight turned his stomach, but at the same time awoke it. A rumbling from his abdomen reminded him just how long it had been since he’d eaten properly. He jumped down and accepted a hunk of flesh. He didn’t want to fill up however. A fat, full, tired escape could never work. He looked at the others. “We have to keep moving. Get back to the fleet. Inform them of what’s going on.”

  The door into one of the adjoining corridors opened a moment later and a Gorvian guard walked in. It took in the scene in an instant and drew its pistol opening fire as it drew it across the prisoners.

  Dwar jumped aside as the first rounds tore through the group, immolating three of them before they could react. He looked about for a weapon, but found none. They’d left the pistols they’d stolen before behind and the scalpel stood on the operating table high above. Undeterred, he scrambled ahead with four other prisoners. The Rimdook beside him fell in the next blast, half his body torn away in an instant. The cloud of blood disappeared a moment later but it was all the cover Dwar needed to attack.

  He lunged at the Gorvian’s leg, tore into its knee. A single swipe of his claws rent the giant's leg open and a font of blood poured forth. The Gorvian reeled and reached down to investigate leaving itself open to the next two prisoners. They leapt upon the Gorvian’s back and sunk their own claws in. Dwar twisted about as the Gorvian’s brain tails flopped forward. Seizing the opportunity, he attacked, snatching hold of the brain tail, and clambered up, tearing away from it as he climbed.

  The Gorvian hollered in pain as Dwar ripped at the base of the fleshy appendage. It reached up and grabbed hold of him. He did not relent and tore through the skin to the brain beneath. The Gorvian pulled him off, but Dwar held tight to the skin. He tore a great swath of it away, exposing the grey matter within. Screaming, the Gorvian released Dwar and he fell to the floor as more prisoners swarmed. Taking up whatever they could find as armament, they hacked away at the monster.

  The guard collapsed under the assault, but the noise and roaring of the prisoners had attracted more guards to the White Room. There was no way they could take even more guards. Dwar found the passageway the guard they’d just killed had come out of empty. The sound of shock sticks charging and plasers discharging pulled Dwar’s attention back into the white room; his fellow captives beginning to fall. “This way!” he hollered and ran into the empty passageway.

  They couldn’t stay in the long straight corridor - it would be a perfect shooting gallery. A shadow near the floor of the circular tunnel drew his eyes. As he ran towards it, his suspicions were confirmed, a vent. Memories of watching bad vids with the hero crawling through ventilation ducts sprang to mind. He’d tried that as a child and had found it impossible; ducts were just too narrow. Gorvians were five times his size however. If the ducts had a similar scale, he’d have no problem crawling though.

  He skidded to a halt beside the grate and tugged on it. Another prisoner arrived, a Drashig who’d had all four of his limbs swapped out. He too pulled on the panel. A third arrived, a massive Fershing who bore minimal scars or grafts. With a single grunt, he tossed the panel aside. Dwar ducked into the duct without even looking before a plaser round shattered the wall he’d just stood beside.

  He scrambled ahead into the darkness, the sound of massive running feat and discharging shock batons echoing in his wake. A smell soon overcame the vent tunnel - gas. Dwar looked back, everyone who had followed him had smelt it as well. The Gorvians were attempting to force them out. They hadn’t counted on their modified lungs. Though they stung with each inhalation, enough oxygen remained to push Dwar forwards. Then the tunnels began to heat up and when he looked up Dwar faced a column of steam. He shielded his face as best he could before the superheated steam washed over, searing his flesh. H
e screamed and clambered ahead, afraid to open his eyes, his muscles burning.

  His hands brushed a grate, the unmistakable sound of air escaping ahead of him. Seeing no other choice, he climbed onto the grating. Bracing himself against the top of the tunnel, he pushed with all his might. The vent gave way and he fell into the chamber beyond.

  Pain rattled his frame as he crashed to the floor. Opening his eyes, he looked up to find another prisoner falling towards him. He rolled aside and right into someone just standing there. The movement was torture itself, but he climbed up the rigid individual and came face to face with the dead eyes of a fully modified Otlian. The single brain tail on its flattened pear of a head just waved back and forth as more prisoners fells to the deck beside them. The creature ignored everything but the giant monitor at the front of the room.

  Dwar turned and looked upon the face of Gondral. He recoiled as the visage spoke at them. Looking around, he found hundreds more, all of them transfixed by the broadcast. Dwar backed away; helped the mutilated Drashig to his feet. It was surreal, like something out of an old propaganda vid. Looking back at the screen, Dwar spotted something, a severed, eyeless Gorvian head sitting atop it. The Gorvian’s three brain tails waved in sync with Gondral’s five and the single brain tails of the mutilated prisoners.

  Dwar looked around again. Doors stood closed on either side of the room. Fatigue taking hold, he knew that the guards had to realize where they were and would come for them. Guessing on a direction, he ran through the hypnotized throng towards one of the doors; none tried to stop him. He lost count of the races represented and how they’d all been modified. He wanted desperately to close his eyes and wake up from the terror dream, but this was no fantasy. He almost slammed into the wall when he reached it, the smooth curve into the floor halting him. He looked up at the door control above. He had to find a way to access it, and turned towards his fellow escapees.