Star Viking (Extinction Wars Book 3)

by Vaughn Heppner

  “That was a coincidence,” Diana said.

  “Do you really believe that?” I asked.

  Ella set down her stylus. She couldn’t keep silent but asked, “Did the artifact tell you the Emperor would be there?”

  “The relic didn’t have to,” I said.

  The two women traded glances.

  “Are you saying you planned this?” Diana asked.

  I had to chuckle. “No. I’m not saying that at all. I’m talking strategy. Look, the Jelk Corporation is out of the present fight. That leaves the Jade League. Why did the various races form the league in the first place?”

  “To protect themselves from the Jelk,” Diana said.

  “That’s right,” I said. “They also did it to protect the Forerunner relics. For most of them, the league has taken on religious significance.”

  “So?” Diana asked.

  “So we have to fight fire with fire,” I said. “The Purple Tamika Emperor told me he’d build a massive crusade against humanity. Well, we have to counter that. How do you battle an idea?”

  “With a better idea,” Ella said.

  “Exactly,” I said, pointing at her.

  “I don’t think you’ve thought this through,” Diana said. “The aliens think we’re beasts. They’re not going to listen to you, a talking animal. They wouldn’t even let the Forerunner Guardians join the Jade League.”

  “Yes,” I said with a laugh. “Don’t you see? That’s why the artifact acted on our behalf. The relic righted the injustice of keeping us out of the Jade League. Who paid for the insolence of keeping us out? The Purple Tamika Emperor, that’s who. Doctor Sant preaches against him. Now, I’m going to preach against Felix Rex Logos myself.”

  Diana folded her hands together, keeping them on the table. She stared at the multitude of rings she was wearing. Finally, she looked up. “There’s a problem with your logic. You just told us about it, remember? Since the raid, the artifact doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

  “You know that,” I said.

  “What are you suggesting?” Diana said.

  “That they, the aliens, don’t know that. Look, as far as they’re concerned, I’m the man when it comes to our artifact. This latest exploit will seal it. The aliens aren’t going to come around, asking to see me enter the artifact to prove myself. Word will sweep near-space about our venture to Sanakaht. The Emperor is going to make sure of that. He’s giving us free publicity.”

  “In all likelihood,” Diana said, “he’ll call you a devil.”

  “The merchants of Mecca spoke evil words against Mohammad,” Murad Bey said.

  Diana sat back as she eyed her Earth Council confederate. “I’m surprised you’re agreeing to this,” she told Murad Bey. “Creed isn’t religious. You know that. He’s simply doing this as a strategic ploy. He’s going to play a part.”

  Murad Bey turned his inky eyes on me.

  “He’s sullying Mohammad’s ways with his idea,” Diana said.

  “What are you trying to do?” I asked her. “Put a wedge between Murad Bey and me?”

  “I don’t think you fight fire with fire,” Diana said. “What you’re suggesting is too dangerous.”

  “No,” I said. “It’s our only chance.”

  “I insist on one thing,” Murad Bey told me. “You must not call yourself the Prophet.”

  “No one is suggesting I do,” I said.

  “But you are claiming to start a new religion,” he said.

  “Not at all,” I said. “I’m claiming to clean up the oldest one. These aliens have been worshiping the Creator for a long time. They’ve done so at the artifacts, right?”

  “What will you tell them?” Murad Bey asked.

  I could hear the anger in his voice. If anything, his reaction proved the soundness of my idea. Few things moved people like religion. For some people, their politics was their religion. For some, football, soccer or bowling became their most sacred belief. On Earth in the past, communism became the religion of Karl Marx, Lenin and hundreds of millions of true believers. In the United States, feminism had become a religion. If you spoke out against it, certain people went ballistic. The same held true for gun rights and a host of other issues. It seemed to be the same for aliens.

  If the Purple Tamika Emperor stoked aliens’ passions against us through religion, we humans would soon all be dead. I had to find a like passion to pit against his idea. That meant I had to go into the holiness business. Fight fire with fire or a crusade with a crusade.

  “You are not the Prophet,” Murad Bey said stubbornly.

  “No I’m not. I’m Commander Creed, a plainspoken man who entered a Forerunner artifact. I make no special claims, but an ancient relic did tell me its name, and it took me to a Lokhar star system to wage war against the heretic Purple Emperor.”

  “Will you try to speak words of Truth?” Murad Bey asked.

  I held my hands palm upward. “I am a man, the one who entered a Forerunner object. Why the ancient machine admitted me and not another is not for me to discern. I only know that the named artifact took me to the planet Sanakaht. There, I punished those who followed the heretic, Felix Rex Logos. Now, the Purple Emperor tries to slay the one the machine of the First Ones chose to converse with alone.”

  “The humble route doesn’t fit you,” Diana said. “Your plan smacks of gross hypocrisy.”

  “I’m not being humble,” I said. “I’m inserting a new idea into the game. I’m doing it in the only way the aliens might be able to hear the idea.”

  Diana disengaged her hands, using a finger to curl several strands of hair. “Your idea is so brassy that maybe it will work.”

  “If it was just me alone,” I said, “I don’t think it would fly. But given Doctor Sant and his message, I think there’s a possibility some aliens will listen.”

  “Let’s suppose that’s so,” Diana said. “How will you get your message across?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “That could be a problem. Let me think about it for a couple of days.”

  “What do we do until you come up with a workable scheme?” Diana asked.

  “We train,” I said. “I’m giving the Earth Council three quarters of the new ships. I’ll also forward you a goodly amount of missile launchers and particle beam cannons. You should turn the Moon into a fortress.”

  “That fortress won’t last long against Admiral Saris’ fleet,” she said.

  “Let’s build one strongpoint at a time,” I said. “That’s better than sitting on our thumbs doing nothing.”

  We talked longer, but didn’t come up with anything more. Before I proceeded with my plan, I needed more information about the Emperor. Ella had a machine, and I had a tiger whose mind I’d like to open. It was time to chat with my Shi-Feng captive.

  ***

  Several days later, I walked down a steep set of rock stairs. The Lokhars who built Mars Base had jackhammered the steps and the subterranean chambers out of the Red Planet.

  “Why did you put your equipment way down here?” I asked.

  Ella walked ahead of me. I liked the sway of her hips and the tightness of her garments. Our scientist must have turned heads back in the day. She carried a heavy flashlight, the beam jostling ahead of us.

  Ignoring my question, Ella came to a thick door. She withdrew a small box from a pocket, pressing a red-lit switch.

  With a click, the door swung open. We entered a sterile area of white corridors and red rock walls. Mats lined the floor.

  “Is this a dungeon?” I asked.

  “Don’t let your imagination get the better of you,” Ella said over her shoulder.

  First clicking her red button again, she pushed against a door. It was heavier than the first. I followed her into the room.

  The odor struck me right away. A sour rancid smell permeated everything. I saw the tiger. Two attendants watched him.

  The Lokhar leaned forward in what looked like a tilted, backward-facing chair. They had stretched his a
rms in front, securing each to an arm-long rest. His chin rested in a groove and steel bands kept his head in place. Other restraints held his torso and legs, which were stretched out as far as they could go.

  “That looks uncomfortable,” I said.

  The two attendants snapped up, staring at me.

  Ella spun around, scowling. She put a finger in front of her lips.

  Slowly, the tiger stirred. Maybe squirmed would be a better word.

  I didn’t like this place. It made me wonder what the Lokhars would do to me if they managed to get their paws on me.

  Ella moved to the attendants, whispering something into their ears. Soon, the three of them went behind what looked like a lead curtain. The biggest attendant reappeared and drew it aside. Ella and the woman attendant pushed a big machine on wheels toward the tiger.

  The machine looked like a big refrigerator. There were lights sparkling up and down one side. The two pushed the “refrigerator” near the tiger. Ella nodded. The woman attendant bent low, locking the wheels into place.

  Ella opened a small hatch in the box. She withdrew what looked like a portable lamp a college student might have used over her desk in the dorm. She adjusted it so the shade aimed at the tiger. Returning to the refrigerator, she slid open a panel. Her fingers tapped against a pad.

  A light clicked on under the shade. It centered a green dot on the tiger’s forehead.

  Ella went to the shade, manually adjusting it. She moved the dot until it beamed between the tiger’s eyes.

  His eyelids fluttered and he twitched and groaned.

  The sound put goosebumps on my arms. I hated this place.

  The green light continued to shine on his fur. Slowly, his eyelids fluttered more. He relaxed. I thought he would fall asleep. Instead, he practically slumped. The restraints held him in place, though.

  With a forefinger, Ella motioned me nearer. I stepped beside her in front of the tiger. She pointed at his eyes. Bending low, putting my hands on my knees, I peered into his orbs. They were glazed as if he were hypnotized.

  Ella picked up a stool and set it down to his left. The woman attendant took another stool, sitting to his right. She clipped leads to his nostrils and another pair to his furry ears.

  Now, don’t get me wrong. I didn’t have any sympathy for the Lokhars. This tiger was Shi-Feng. The being would gladly give his life to explode others to death. Yet, I didn’t like to see anyone in such a situation. It seemed inhuman.

  Remember the ninety-nine percent who died to the Lokhars. The only reason he’s strapped down like this is so mankind can climb out of oblivion.

  I sighed. Ruthlessness didn’t sound so noble now. It seemed grubby and dirty, which was exactly what it was.

  Ella began to speak to the tiger. He didn’t respond right away. The last attendant stood behind the others. A big finger tapped a switch now and then. It sent shocks to the Lokhar, jerking his furry head. He yowled more than once, sounding like a wet cat.

  Finally, the tiger began to answer Ella’s questions. He did it haltingly, with many stubborn moments of silence. I stayed, forcing myself to witness this.

  Later, I sat with Ella in a side room. I felt soiled.

  “Is that what you did to Doctor Sant?” I asked.

  Ella stared at me. We sat at a big table with snacks and drinks to the side. Neither of us ate or drank anything.

  “Do you really want to know the answer?” she finally asked me.

  My stomach tightened a little more. I shook my head.

  Ella’s nostrils flared. Her mouth grew firm. She nodded.

  “This is a dirty business,” I said.

  “Is your killing any better than what I do down here?” she asked.

  I wanted to tell her yes.

  “You leave people dead, Creed. You have no compunction slaughtering Lokhars. I’m merely drawing out some information. Afterward, they’re very much alive. How can what I’m doing down here be worse than what you do in the open?”

  “Easy,” I said. “It’s called the Golden Rule.”

  “He who has the gold makes the rules?” she asked. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “I’m talking about the other Golden Rule,” I said. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

  “So you’d like to be gut-shot on a battlefield?” she asked.

  “I don’t mind dying a warrior’s death,” I said. “Getting mind-raped in a dungeon, no, not so much.”

  “Once you’re dead, life is over,” Ella said. “Those who live still have hope. No. Killing is worse than torture. It is an order of magnitude of difference. You’re squeamish because of the social sensibilities you’ve accepted. If you strip those away—”

  “Strip those sensibilities away and you become a devil,” I said with heat.

  A faint smile touched her lips. “You don’t realize how antiquated you are. The real wonder to me is how fossilized the aliens are in their mindsets. Our superior outlook allows us to survive where any other race would have already perished.”

  I might have argued with her. In the end, I told myself this was her inner armor that allowed her to do these things. Humanity needed them done. Could I look down on her then for doing them?

  “What do we know so far?” I asked.

  Ella stared into my eyes half a second longer. Then she reached for a reader, tapping the screen, bringing up her notes.

  “Ras Claw, the name of our Lokhar, believes himself a holy warrior in an ancient fraternity,” Ella began. “It appears the Shi-Feng have close ties with Purple Tamika. The sacred warriors help to keep the other Tamikas in check.”

  “They assassinate other Lokhars?” I asked.

  “Oh yes. I believe they concentrate on their own kind much more than against aliens.”

  “Did the Emperor sanction the strike against me?” I asked.

  “I wondered the same thing,” Ella said. “Ras Claw didn’t know. He suspects so, though.”

  “That means the Purple Emperor would have already decided against us,” I said. “Our attack against Sanakaht didn’t really change anything then.”

  “Exactly,” Ella said. “Along with that line of inquiry, I asked him about Admiral Saris. When Ras Claw heard about the Purple admiral taking our warships, he hissed in appreciation.”

  “Do you know why?” I asked.

  “I queried him on that. He surmises the Emperor set humanity up for failure. This would come in two varieties. Without any self-protection, a greedy species might attack us in order to gain the artifact. We would die under their guns. Or mankind would fail to protect the artifact, possibly letting it be destroyed. In that case, righteous fury would stoke the rest of the Jade League. Soon, races would demand our deaths as blood payment for our failure.”

  I thought about that. “Yes. The Emperor would have kept his hands clean. In either of those cases he could say he’d kept his oath with us.”

  “Yes,” Ella said.

  I scowled. What a bastard. Even before the Sanakaht raid, Felix Rex Logos had plotted humanity’s destruction. Helping the Lokhars against Abaddon seven years ago had merely given us a little more time. It hadn’t bought us good faith from the Lokhars.”

  “Does Ras Claw know why the Emperor hates humans so viciously?”

  “No,” Ella said.

  “You asked him?”

  “Oh yes.”

  I grabbed a package of spice sticks, but didn’t tear open the alien cellophane. Shaking my head, I tossed the package back among the other goodies.

  “The Emperor wants to annihilate us,” I said. “I wonder if even now a fleet races toward the solar system.”

  “According to Ras Claw, the Emperor will come in person. Felix Rex Logos will want to make an example of us.”

  “No. I bet it’s more than that,” I said. “Doctor Sant began his metamorphosis here. If the Emperor annihilates us and retakes the artifact, won’t that negate Doctor Sant’s truths?”

  “I’m not sure I
follow you,” Ella said.

  I reached out, taking the spice sticks again, opening the package. Putting one in my mouth like a cigar, I sucked on it thoughtfully.

  “It seems simple enough,” I said. “If humanity becomes devilish, anything learned in our star system becomes suspect. That would mean Sant worked with devils. It would nullify his words and likely destroy any credibility Orange Tamika gained in stopping Abaddon and the Kargs.”

  Ella blinked thoughtfully. “Yes, I see what you mean.”

  “If the other alien races and the other Tamikas believe we’re vile, they’ll vie to destroy us. That means it won’t matter how big we become. We’ll be evil. Thus, we’re forced to enter the religious fray.”

  “I doubt you’ll make a persuasive spokesman to the other aliens,” Ella said.

  Taking the spice stick from my mouth, I pointed it at her. “Then we have to find ways to increase our persuasiveness.”

  “How?”

  “Well,” I asked, “did Ras Claw tell you anything useful in that regard?”

  Pursing her lips, Ella peered at her reader. She began to tap the screen, scanning her notes. A few minutes later, she said, “Here’s something interesting.”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “The Shi-Feng has an elite guard at Purple Tamika’s Hall of Honor.”

  “So?” I said.

  She looked up. “The Lokhars view the Shi-Feng as a holy order in much the same way as humans viewed monks during the Middle Ages.”

  “Got it,” I said.

  “A hall of honor is something else. According to Ras Claw, each Tamika has one.”

  “So?”

  “You’re looking for an edge,” Ella said. “To gain one, you need to know how Lokhars think. Here’s my point. Why would the Shi-Feng send an elite guard to the Purple Tamika Hall of Honor? They’re a holy order and they’ve sent their holiest to the hall. Maybe if you knew why, you’d know the Emperor’s thinking better.”

  “I want to speak with Ras Claw,” I said.

  “That could be a problem,” Ella said.

  “Why? Is his mind damaged?”

  “No,” Ella said, “at least not how you’re thinking. We worked him hard under the machine. He needs his rest before we put him under again.”