“Fine. All of you gang up on the poor, out of shape bachelor general. I’ll get my mods, and put you all to shame.” He promised, with a wink.
Thad, cautioned. “Don’t do it all at once Henry. Your caution to prepare people in advance by running was wise. However, you’ve been a desk jockey for too long to suddenly become Mr. Universe.”
“Bah! If we keep talking about this, the mods won’t get started. I only have four days to spend in that iron maiden of a med lab. Same for my staff. Is that right? The recuperation can take place while we work, if we stay squirreled away, out of sight in our offices for another week?”
Mirikami shrugged, as he nodded. “Aldry and Rafe, our best minds on the nanite improvements, say the aches, pains, and some swelling will be present only for the week after you climb out of the med lab. It’s age regression, which takes the longest. Replacing all of your cells. You may have to wait for the war’s end for that.”
“Tet, that’s the first time I’ve heard that stated so casually. War’s end. I hope I live to see that.”
Standing, Mirikami suggested they all finish their drinks in a toast. “To the end of this war.” They clinked glasses, and downed their drinks. Mirikami, following Thad’s recommendation, had not told Nabarone that a Kobani’s high rate of metabolism made getting loaded a tough task. The hard drinking general might not have liked that very much.
They led the four Kobani candidates to where the med techs had unloaded and set up their equipment, in the infirmary of the Caldron training facility.
Mirikami, after the introductions, said with a smile, “We’ll see you in four days, as new men. At least new on the inside. The outside will take another month to show.”
****
Telour had informed Gatlek Pendor of the general assaults he was expected to conduct on all fronts, attacking each of the various human armies’ strongest forces. The instructions were delivered in the presence of all three other high status warriors that Kanpardi had sent with him, as confirmation of his loyalty. The initial news was received with understandable enthusiasm. Tempered a moment later by the explanation for all of the clanships from various clans that had been landing, and staying on Poldark. They had not brought much in the way of new weapons or support equipment, nor even warriors for rotation.
The explanation that they would be used as off-planet transport for half the warriors here, perhaps one third of his mini-tanks, plasma batteries, and laser artillery defenses with their counter battery rocket launchers, generated a much colder reception. Pendor’s initial response was hostile and borderline rebellious.
“I am winning this war, in as slow a manner as I was ordered to do. Now I am told to push back the enemy quickly so I can safely withdraw much of my force, as if I have been beaten. This is too much like a defeat. I cannot order my forces to do this, not after their blood is heated to boiling by being unleashed for attacks on all fronts.”
“There will be a new invasion started, on a more populated human world, and these clan warriors and equipment will be used for expanding our war. And to punish humans for attacking our worlds where we build our weapons.”
He offered Pendor a conciliatory comment. “You have fought this war effectively, making this move possible here, and still be able to defeat the enemy with a reduced force. However, there may be an expanded role for a war leader such as you, in one of two new larger invasions that are planned.”
The light of ambition winked on in Pendor’s eyes. The Poldark Gatlek promotion was only given to him after the invasion was already successfully started, and the old Gatlek had stupidly allowed himself to be caught in an ambush and killed. Pendor wanted to gain a place of honor in a history that mentioned him by name, as having secured the more difficult first foothold on a human world.
“Is this an offer you are making to me?” he inquired.
“It is one I am willing to discuss with you. A recommendation from the Til Gatrol to the Tor Gatrol carries considerable strength. If that were backed by your strong support for the offensive action, and then a successful partial withdrawal, it would improve your status. There are many contenders to lead the two new invasions.” It wasn’t necessary to look at any of the three other high status warriors present, which Kanpardi was cultivating, to know who the strongest competition was.
Deciding there would be something that Telour wanted in exchange, because his recommendation was not promised only proposed, Pendor saw no down side to agreeing. He could agree, or his successor could do so in his place. “I will support the Tor’s plan,” he said.
Then, to find out what Telour’s conditions might be for a recommendation, he wanted a private conversation. He asked the three war leaders that came with Telour to meet with his sub leaders, to discuss details of how to conduct the simultaneous offensive actions. This was a reasonable request because it involved obtaining cooperation from multiple clans, and preparing for the timeline of the subsequent withdrawal. His staff of sub leaders, who had been allowed to hear the discussion but not participate, would resent the outside interference. However, that was merely a diversion by Pendor so he could speak alone with the Til Gatrol.
When the control room emptied, Pendor led Telour into an adjacent smaller room, with obvious soundproofing on the interior walls, constructed completely inside a large copper wire mesh cube. Pendor secured an outer door made of the same copper mesh, and then he closed the soundproof door of the inner cube.
Telour had never encountered these sorts of security precautions inside a Krall bunker. “You do not trust your own staff?” he asked.
“I am careful to avoid human spy bots more than distrust my staff. However, I think that we do not want any ears but ours to hear this discussion.”
“What is the purpose of the metal wire box?”
“We learned that our efforts to intercept human messages, before they were encrypted for transmission, were blocked by use of such cages. Humans we captured were asked about the wires. Two of them called this a faraday cage, but neither knew why they were called that. Their simple construction makes the inside of this room very resistant to all radio signals. Human or Krall listening devices cannot hear us or send a signal outside.”
Telour considered this precaution. It demonstrated that Pendor could keep a secret, one that if revealed would result in their both being forced into a berserker’s death, on some obscure human world.
Before making his proposal of betrayal, he still needed to test Pendor’s ambitions. “The forces withdrawn from Poldark will be increased slightly; using others on K1, and then sent to invade a human colony they call New Dublin. It is a more populated world than this one, and has been settled longer. It is nevertheless located in what is called the Rim region of the volume of stars that humans occupy. We have not attacked it recently with raiders, to suggest it is of less interest to us. It will be a more difficult operation than was Poldark to invade, because the war was newer and humans weaker then. The forces will consist of the lesser clans taken from here and many finger clans.”
Pendor shook a shoulder in a noncommittal acknowledgement of this information. He was waiting to hear more about the second invasion’s target world. Telour was satisfied that Pendor was ambitious enough not to leap at the first offer.
“The other target planet is one of the worlds that humans describe as an Old Colony. It is deeper in Human Space, and Kanpardi has selected one called New Glasgow.” His dropping the title of Tor Gatrol was deliberate, as a designed reflection of mild disrespect. Another test of Pendor’s ambition, versus loyalty to the highest-ranking war leader.
He continued his proposal, certain that Pendor had caught his implied message. Kanpardi would not like what was being discussed here.
“The other invasion leader will have most of our reserves of clanships to use, and the newest weapons from stockpiles on clan worlds. None of those systems will have been roughly used, as those from Poldark have been, and the warriors will come only from major clans.” He
saw the gleam in the Gatlek’s eyes. Good. Now to solidify his desire.
“This will be a more difficult invasion to establish, yet it is the one with the highest opportunity for great status increase if successful, leading major clans to victory.”
Pendor stood straighter, showing resolve. “You have shown me what choices are offered. You know there is only one that exceeds the opportunity I now have, of simply completing the conquest of this planet. You have said this leadership selection requires a recommendation from you to secure, and your words suggest the present war leader would not approve of what I must do to secure your help.” Pendor proved he grasped the political ambitions of his proposed benefactor.
“You are already second in command of war planning, and have only two higher status positions available to you. I do not think you want to be the Graka clan leader, and that high status position is securely held anyway. How would I be able to help you to gain the position of Tor Gatrol? It is also securely held.”
Telour was pleased that he didn’t have to explain the politics to this experienced Mordo clan leader. Not all high status and effective warriors were also effective at interclan politics. He could drop the pretense of loyalty to Kanpardi, a leader from his own clan.
“You were told the invasions are punishment, for the humans that dared conduct raids against our production worlds. What was not spoken is that we do not believe the humans that made those raids are controlled by the human leaders on their central worlds. They are far more capable fighters than the humans you face on this planet. The punishment I delivered to Rhama for the attacks on K1 produced proper and quick obedience. Humans were warned not to attack us from space. They need a stronger, immediate reminder of why they must do as we command. Few clans are happy with the slow, soft punishment Kanpardi offers.”
“The Hammer weapons were destroyed. We cannot hit them again as you did Rhama.”
He wasn’t being contrary, but he wondered how Telour would employ the only alternative severe punishment on a human world. How would Telour convince the Joint Council to replace Kanpardi? He knew Telour had been trying to convince the clan council to use one of the limited remaining super weapons. However, against Kanpardi’s arguments this was not going to happen, so he had to be replaced for Telour to succeed.
The depth of Telour’s ambition, and commitment to punish humanity was revealed.
“A war leader that is killed in combat by the enemy will be replaced by his selected second in command, and he should be avenged. His successor’s demand to punish that enemy severely will be listened to, and obeyed. Those war leaders that support the new Tor Gatrol will be recognized for their own efforts.”
Pendor was being asked to help arrange the death of Kanpardi, in a war where the Tor Gatrol should never directly participate in the fighting. The Graka clan leader was respected by Pendor’s Mordo clan, but not more than their own advance in status, and their place in the histories.
“My Til, explain how it will be done.” He was ready for his next leadership role.
****
“Henry! Can you hear me?” Mirikami was standing by the medlab.
The subdued answer was softer than typical for Nabarone. “Of course I can hear you. Don’t shout. I have a headache, and even my eyes hurt.”
Sounding cheerful, despite the frown on the general’s face, he prodded him awake with news. “We didn’t need to kidnap a Krall sub leader to know what they would do next. They started a continent wide build up at all eight major fronts the day after you went under. There’s fierce fighting anticipated on every front at any time. Your field commanders have asked for you, of course. They were told you had an accident, so make it a point to favor your right leg when you get out of here. The cover story is that you broke it while running, and suffered a mild concussion when you fell.”
“At least the headache will match that story.” He paused as he considered the story. “Shit! Now I’m a fat general who’s also clumsy. Couldn’t I have been hit by a truck?” He griped.
Standing on the other side, Thad, equally loud and cheerful, answered. “What? Then blame some mysterious hit and run driver, or pin it on some poor slob to complete the charade?”
“Fine.” Nabarone conceded the point, in no mood to debate. “I need to order pullbacks to minimize casualties. If this really is preparation for a partial pull out, they’ll only push until we appear far enough back on our heels for them to get out safely. Tet, what else do we have to back up your prediction?”
“Your Planetary Defense Command has satellite images that show clanships, far from the fighting, ready to load columns of equipment. There has also been a fresh influx of clanships, which arrived apparently empty.”
“Then I’d better get my ass out of this box and call for a meeting with the navy. I assume Admiral Foxworthy has her heavy cruisers busy trying to block the incoming clanships. I need a face to face with her, and her boss, Admiral Bledso, to make my prediction of the Krall intentions well in advance. I wish I could tell her where the new invasion is going to be. Smacking that down at the start would be a boost for navy morale. We are going to need them to get active again in this war. I hope we can get them to hit K1 hard, while the Krall are using so many clanships elsewhere as transports.”
Tet gave him another update, as Nabarone’s head cleared. “Major Caldwell made it out of his med lab thirty minutes ago. He’s off planning with some of your commanders for a counter attack, as soon as the swarm of clanships Jump away. You probably can recover some of the territory you’ll lose now. Howard said your civilians were already prepared for fast evacuations from the cities closest to the Krall lines. They have been ordered to go now, over a wider area than you normally are forced to yield for the typical clan assaults. There won’t be much left on this landmass but your forces and the Krall.”
“We’ve known we’d be shoved out for almost a year. We’ve been preparing. We learned from Bollovstic’s mistakes, when they left civilians to the tender mercies of the warriors.”
Casually, Tet told him another bit of news. “I’ve also tackled the issue of convincing the navy and the PU government that the Eight Balls are gone.”
“How can you do that?”
“I’ve made radio contact with the Mark, and asked Jakob, my ship’s computer, to compile a video of the raid on that Botolian orbital station where the Eight Balls were built. It shows the balls being exploded with the obviously human made rail guns you gave us. It includes the orbital station’s evacuation of the alien Torki, the destruction of the gravity projectors, and scenes of our people in unstealthed armor next to the Torki. Then Jakob sent me the recording, and Thad did some editing to remove some things we don’t want to reveal, such as the fact that we fly clanships.
“I had him add a scene at the end, recorded on the Falcon, of me in our distinct new armor, and initially invisible. I fade into view, and reach up and remove my helmet, revealing that I’m human. I tell them that we are a human force from an unspecified world, which found the location of the only place where Krall forced labor made the Eight Balls. That they all were destroyed, along with the gravity projectors that made them, and rescued the only workers that knew how to build them. I explain that our armor was made by other aliens, allied against the Krall. The Torki are shown entering a docked migration ship, with more of our people in armor directing them. The inference is that there are human and aliens, cooperating to fight the Krall.”
“Hell Tet. You’ll reveal yourself. Not so much to the Krall, but to the Hub government.”
“I’m over ninety. Do I look my age? Facial recognition, even if it finds a match, isn’t going to convince them of a positive identification. Besides, I’m presumed dead, and they have no idea where we come from anyway. It’s my neck, and I eventually expect to reveal who I am to some PU authority. I’m on their side, and I’ll have to prove that.”
“How will you deliver the recording to them?”
“How about if I give it to you?
Then you explain that we infiltrated down to Poldark, met one of your staff and told him. Then you hand them a sample of our armor as proof, as a technological offering. I gave the galactic coordinates of that star on the recording, since it wasn’t in that navy scouting briefing you got for us previously. They can send a drone to check out the place. When we left, the small clan that controlled the planet had been wiped out, and the orbital station was intact but airless, and filled with dead Krall.”
“I won’t know if Bledso will believe me, or if she’ll just be humoring me if she acts like she does.”
“Then ask her if she thinks it’s a valid report, as you shake her hand.”
“Huh?”
“Henry, what’s the point of having the Mind Tap mod if you don’t use it? Some of the spec ops we brought back with us can help you practice.”
“Oh, wow. I forgot about that. I can finally get back at those sneaky bitches for that backdoor into my computer system.”
“Henry!” Mirikami said firmly. “Please don’t screw around with this ability. If you can’t keep it confidential, you’ll be locked up in some padded room. Curry their favor, don’t piss them off!”
He waved a hand reassuringly. “I didn’t get where I am without being able to keep secrets, and outsmarting opponents. I’ll not be reckless.”
“Good.”
“It’s going to be fun though.”
Chapter 3: Heavenly Haven
Maggi was standing with Marlyn, watching as the modular elements of a large roofed structure went up, as the first open sided housing for the “empty” Raspani, newly relocated to Haven. The term empty was how the newly sentient Raspani preferred to describe their largely mindless brethren, which the Krall had created through thousands of years of breeding them for meat.
“The restored Raspani are often rather mean to the empty ones.” Maggi noted, as one of those whose group minds had only recently been transferred into the brain of an “empty” meat animal, smacked the rump of a recalcitrant and unenhanced female quite hard. The female kept getting in the way of the Prada, who were doing most of the roof raising work, with some human assistance.
Koban 4: Shattered Worlds Page 11
