Cosmic Genten

by Grady P. Brown

  Marthun tried to protest, but Mikal gripped her shoulder and said, “As you say, Governor. Our sons will join you as soon as they are recovered.”

  Smiling, Spatha said, “Good. I will release Bralu Pramar and his compatriots. They will sniff out whatever rabble are willing to fight.”

  Then Spatha left the Pramars, who sobbed at the grimness of their family’s situation.

  “Why can’t we just spend the rest of our days as a family? Why must the Consulate always tear us apart?” Marthun cried.

  “I knew what I was signing up for when I enlisted in the Consulate navy. You guys knew what you were bargaining for when you sent Bralu to the Bushi dojo,” Kyle said.

  “We sent Bralu to the dojo to learn how to control his powers. After what happened at his school, we had no choice but to give him to Owen Gonarri for training, or child welfare would have taken him from us. As much as I hate it, this was … inevitable.” Mikal scowled.

  “What do we do?” Marthun pleaded.

  “I am still an officer of the Consulate navy, and the Shogunate are coming. This is not just about fighting for the Consulate. This is about defending our home,” Kyle declared.

  CHAPTER 7

  Spica 8, the outermost planet in the Spica System was under siege by the Shogunate. In the sky, the Emden and four battle frigates loomed over a burning city while fighters that resembled trilobites shot down any vessel that attempted to escape. On the ground, the Shogunate’s combat robots massacred civilians and local soldiers.

  The Shogunate’s foot soldiers were one-eyed humanoid machines with red-and-black armor, called Feldorbots. In their metallic hands were rifles that looked like compact miniguns that fired white bolts of plasma. The defenders of Spica 8 tried to fend off the relentless Feldorbots, but the robots overwhelmed them with their superior numbers.

  In the thick of the fighting was Vice Shogun Manus, who was brandishing his katana-like Kiru. He wore only his boots, trousers, and kilt, and was bare from the waist up. His skin bore the scars of a hundred battles, and his muscles were as honed as tempered iron. A crazed look was etched onto his face as he fought.

  Manus was a demon on the battlefield. His skill with his Kiru was brutal, and each one of his blows were lethal. Whenever the defenders fired lasers at him, Manus blocked it with his blade. Because of the Kiru’s mik alloy, the laser’s energy was absorbed into the blade, which increased its cutting power. With his energized sword, Manus was able to cleave his foes with one stroke, and the friction of his edge was so extreme that his target was set ablaze.

  Still, Manus’s skill with his Kiru was nothing compared to his usage of his psychic powers. His strength and speed were further increased by channeling psionic energy through his bones and muscles. Every once in a while, Manus would launch a blast of blue telekinetic power from his palm that sent dozens of foes flying or disintegrated them with a beam of black energy that crackled with red sparks. Everywhere Manus went was marked by fire and destruction.

  Finally, Manus was freed from his battle frenzy when a combat robot reported, “Vice Shogun, the planet has surrendered. Victory is ours.”

  “Good. Establish a garrison of ten thousand, and have five cruisers set up a blockade. We will proceed to the next planet,” Manus ordered, wiping the blood off his Kiru with a damp cloth.

  ______

  Back on board the Emden, Manus was greeted by Admiral Vao, who seemed puzzled. “I see your mission was successful, Vice Shogun.”

  “Indeed it was.”

  “I have always wondered, sir. I know we are in the process of conquering a strategically important star system, but why would the Shogun send his second-in-command on this mission?” Vao asked. “This is not the first time you left the Shogun’s side to fight on the front lines, sir.”

  “My brother may be a brilliant strategist, but I am a warrior. I need to fight regularly, or my skills and senses will dull. Besides, whenever I fight a worthy battle, I never feel more alive. This war is the best thing I could ask for. In the beginning, the Ronin have only been common thugs, festering in their holes like robbers. Now, we are a force to be reckoned with under my brother’s leadership, as we should have been from the beginning. We have become the incarnation of strength and power, both of which must always be tested and honed ceaselessly. I am here to embody and enforce those principles,” Manus explained.

  Nodding in approval, Vao said, “Thank you for satisfying my curiosity, sir. What shall we do now?”

  “We have sacked the outermost planet in the system. If we keep up this pace, we will reach Spica Prime by the end of the week. To war!” Manus declared.

  ______

  Ten years earlier, Bralu found himself in his school’s library. The other children were busy reading articles on their computers while the staff watched over them. Bralu was in the process of writing a report on the formation of the Consulate and a philosophy paper on the origins of the Bushi. Bralu’s mind was in a state of deep thought as he furiously scratched at his paper.

  Suddenly, a bolt of pain shot through Bralu’s mind, and he clutched his cranium. It felt as though a section of his brain was about to burst out of his skull.

  Noticing Bralu’s discomfort, a library intern asked, “Are you all right, Mr. Pramar?”

  Before Bralu could answer, a shockwave of blue energy erupted from his body and engulfed the entire library.

  ______

  In the present, Bralu woke up to find himself still with Kelba and Jarek in their holding cell. The air had become stale, and the only sounds were Jarek’s snoring and the cracking of their cell’s force field. On occasion, Kelba would smack Jarek over the head to stop his snoring, much to his annoyance.

  “How long have we been here?” Bralu asked.

  “If I had to guess, probably five hours. You guys sleep like the dead,” Kelba said.

  Jarek’s snoring resumed with a vengeance.

  “I tell you, no matter how much you hit him, you can’t wake the guy up,” Bralu observed.

  Chuckling, Kelba said, “Watch this.”

  Kelba reached Jarek’s face and moved his beak up and down to make it look like he was talking. While Kelba was doing this, she said in a goofy voice, “I want my mama. I want euros and lots of it. Help me. I’m down and I can’t wake up.”

  Even as Kelba toyed with him, Jarek refused to wake up. Both Bralu and Kelba softly laughed as they made fun of their friend.

  Eventually, Bralu said, “Okay. That’s enough, Kelba. I know you’re bored, but we are in a serious situation.”

  “I know. It’s just that I am desperate for some fun in this cramped cell.”

  Suddenly, a police officer approached their cell and started to open one cell after another, freeing the jet racers.

  Surprised, Bralu asked, “Excuse me, Officer. What’s going on?”

  Through his featureless helmet, the cop replied, “You all made bail. There’s someone who wants to speak with you outside.”

  Bralu and Kelba looked at each other with curiosity as Jarek woke up.

  ______

  All the jet racers rushed out of the jail, relishing their newfound freedom. However, they were quickly greeted by government officials. The sight of the officials concerned Bralu and his companions.

  “What is all this? Aren’t we free?” Jarek asked.

  Kelba sighed. “It looks like our freedom comes with strings attached.”

  “What do they want us to do? Who did they send to greet us once we were freed?” Bralu asked.

  He got his answer when they were welcomed by a number of familiar faces. Kyle, wearing his helmet and uniform, was flanked by Owen, GB-89, and Amber.

  When they were at arms-length, Bralu asked, “Kyle … Amber … Gee Bee … Sensei. What are you guys doing here?”

  “We are here to set you free, Master Bralu,” GB-89 said, taking a curt bow.

  “Are you okay, big brother?” Bralu asked Kyle.

  “I’m fine, Bralu. I’m sorry we could
n’t meet again under normal circumstances, but we have work to do.”

  “What kind of work?” Jarek asked.

  “We are going to the lower levels of the city, young Jarek. If you are concerned about your safety, I assure you that I am programmed with the best fighting styles money can buy. If any miscreants decide to mug us, I will pound them into the dirt,” GB-89 answered.

  “That’s all well and good, Gee Bee, but why are we going to the lower levels?” Kelba asked.

  Giving Kelba a bitter stare, Amber answered, “You lot are going to arrange a meeting between us and Devan’s militia, along with whatever rabble they have contact with.”

  “Does this have something to do with your crash?” Kelba asked.

  “If we do not organize an army and fleet soon, we are all going to die,” GB-89 declared.

  “Why would we want an army and a fleet? Are we really under attack?” Jarek asked.

  “The government has issued a state of emergency. The Shogunate is invading this system and we must prepare for battle. We hope that Devan’s militia and their contacts have enough soldiers, weapons, and ships to fend off the invasion,” Owen explained further.

  “Do we have a choice in this matter?” Bralu asked.

  Chuckling through his helmet, Kyle replied, “Yes. You can help us form an army, or you can go back to jail until the invasion is over. I doubt the Shogunate will be civil in your sentences. All the other jet racers are facing the same conditions to their freedom. They will lead the government officials to whoever would be willing to fight.”

  His heart freezing from his brother’s words, Bralu said, “When do we get started?”

  CHAPTER 8

  Bralu, Jarek, and Kelba led Kyle, Owen, GB-89, and Amber to the lower levels of Londinium. Compared to the higher levels, the underworld was messy, covered in graffiti, and shady characters, including smugglers, pirates, and mercenaries, lurked behind every shadow. The businesses included brothels, casinos, and rowdy bars that lined the streets in dilapidated buildings. Despite their transparent infamy, the Benfold’s crash had caused an uproar amongst the city’s rabble. They ran in every direction, searching for a way to escape the upcoming battle.

  “Why would Devan and his scum hide in this dump?” Amber asked bitterly.

  “Let’s just say that Devan used illegal methods to stockpile his soldiers, weapons, and warships. In order to hide from the law, his militia decided to blend in with the other lowlifes of the city. The higher levels put up a façade of being able to handle of any the planet’s criminal elements, but they actually don’t have the resources to police what’s going on in the lower levels. Since Spica Prime is the center of trade in the Consulate, the lax law enforcement in Londinium’s lower levels is perfect for smugglers to bootleg rare merchandise,” Kelba explained.

  Kyle rubbed his forehead. “Why has law enforcement been so lacking lately?”

  “Because the governor and his officials enrich themselves from the planet’s smuggling guilds and crime syndicates. You wouldn’t think the governor was capable of such corruption until you come to this place,” Jarek replied.

  “I strongly advise entering this section of the city. The probability of getting conned or mugged is eighty-six percent,” GB-89 warned.

  Kyle raised his hands to calm to robot. “We have three Bushi with us, Gee Bee. We’ll be fine.”

  “Then the probability of getting conned or mugged is fifty-two percent,” GB-89 corrected himself.

  “Could you please stop calculating everything, Gee Bee?” Bralu demanded.

  “I will try, Master Bralu.”

  Suddenly, an Insect man approached the group and held up a briefcase filled with different-colored vials. In a raspy voice, the Insect said, “You look like people who enjoy living to the fullest. Care to try a sample of plasma meth?”

  With heavy steps, GB-89 lumbered toward the Insect. “Con artist in sight. Preparing security protocols.”

  Bralu held out an arm and stopped GB-89 in his tracks.

  With GB-89 held back, Owen utilized his telepathy and hooked into the drug dealer’s mind. The Insect’s bony face twitched as his psyche was probed.

  Once Owen secured his psychic connection with the dealer, he said, “Turn yourself over to the authorities and give them the names of your cohorts.”

  Without a word, the Insect closed his briefcase and walked away.

  Jarek shivered. “I will never get over how disturbing it is when Bushi mess with other people’s heads. You better not stab my mind with that garbage.”

  Shrugging, Kelba countered, “At least it makes arresting criminals less violent and more humane.”

  “True, but it is no less unsettling.”

  “Guys, can we focus? We need to find Devan and recruit his gang of freaks,” Bralu rolled his eyes.

  As the group continued onward, Amber asked, “What do we know about Devan and his militia? All I heard were unbelievable rumors.”

  Clearing his throat, Owen explained, “There is some truth to those rumors. Devan and his compatriots were all natives of Spica Prime. They enlisted in the Consulate military like every other cadet. However, shortly after they graduated, they were thrown into the most chaotic battle of the war, the Battle of Mizar. Many of them were grievously injured both physically and spiritually. As a result, they were honorably discharged and returned home. Unfortunately, their drive to fight the Shogunate endured, and they have been making preparations in case the Shogunate invaded Spica Prime. Based on my sources, their militia have been making deals with arms dealers, pirates, and smugglers in order to get their weapons cache. It is that cache we are hoping to acquire while we are here. With any luck, we might be able to recruit Devan’s militia to our cause as well.”

  “Why would they want to fight after being through hell like that?” Bralu asked.

  “I know this from experience. After you have tasted battle, being on a battlefield becomes the only thing that makes sense. When they saw what the Shogunate is capable of, they found a sense of purpose to fight the Shogunate on a battlefield of their choosing. In this case, it is their home planet, which makes their cause all the more personal.”

  “I just hope he is not as crazy as they say,” Bralu murmured.

  Finally, the group reached their location, which was guarded by a pair of towering blast doors. A dirty security robot armed with a sonic pike stood guard. The android was of the same model as GB-89, but was heavily modified. As the group approached the tall automaton, its pike emitted a low hum.

  GB-89 approached his counterpart and said, “We are here on official government business, Cousin. May we speak with your masters?”

  In a voice deeper and less emotional than GB-89’s, the dirty machine said, “You may not pass this threshold without the password.”

  “What is the password, Cousin? Our visit is urgent, and time is of the essence.”

  Gripping its pike, the other robot repeated, “You may not pass this threshold without the password.”

  Jarek pushed GB-89 aside. “Move, Tin Man. I got this. The password is Glooby.”

  The security robot pressed a number of buttons on a control panel next to the blast doors. They slowly creaked open, revealing a flurry of activity as hundreds of soldiers, technicians, and other personnel prepared various stations. When the doors fully opened, a soldier, a hulking Lizard, who was armed to the teeth, greeted Bralu and company.

  “What do you want?” asked the Lizard.

  “We wish to speak with Devan, your leader,” Owen said.

  “Can’t you see we’re busy? Why would Devan want to speak with you?” the Lizard soldier hissed.

  “Because the Shogunate invasion you have been preparing for is about to happen. The government wants to cooperate with you in order to fight off the Shogunate.”

  The Lizard paused for a moment before motioning Bralu’s group to follow. As they entered the bunker, Bralu could smell ozone fuel and could hear the clatter of equipment banging
against each other. Many of the militia members looked at the visitors with suspicious glares.

  Eventually, Bralu’s group entered what looked like a shabby throne room. Half a dozen armed fighters stood beside a hulking figure sitting in a chair constructed from rifle parts. The intimidating man, Devan, was an Ape with a broken tusk and a heavily scarred body. On his forehead was a tattoo that resembled the insignia of the Consulate: a blue circle inside of a yellow circle. Both of his legs were cybernetic from the knees down, while his right arm was prosthetic and wrapped in dirty rags. Strangely, Devan’s robotic legs were mismatched, with the left being an iron peg leg, and the other resembling a heavy leg brace. Devan’s green eyes had a mad glimmer, and his right eyelid occasionally twitched. In his left hand was what looked like a crude spear with a jagged blade etched with strange runes.

  Looking at the Lizard soldier escorting Bralu’s group, Devan asked, “Who are these people, Mooku? Why have you let them into our home?”

  “They say the Shogunate invasion we have been preparing for is about to happen. That crash outside the city was just the beginning.”

  Devan and his men shuddered sharply.

  “Send them forward. I look forward to seeing what they have to say,” Devan ordered.

  Bralu and company then took a few steps forward before stopping short of the throne’s dais. Owen was about to speak, before Devan interrupted him.

  “Before we get started, I want to know a little about each of you. I don’t like listening to strangers unless I know a little about them. How about you, blind man?” Devan asked, pointing at Owen.

  “I am a formerly retired Marshal of the Bushi. I now spend my time training the next generation of Bushi. Among our group are my cadets, Bralu and Amber,” Owen answered.