“Lord,” Rintuk protested. “It is too late. They mass within weapon’s range of this very ship. We cannot attack them and prevail.”
Karnak knew that of course. Rintuk’s report made it obvious to everyone. The only choice was defence. It infuriated him. The discovery of his last landing ship by the lone Human scout had turned into a disaster as so much else had during this cleansing when Rintuk’s troopers had failed to run him down.
Zuark’s wrath finally boiled over. “Lord, Rintuk is right—”
“Silence fool!” Karnak snarled. “Rintuk is an incompetent vermin spawn. He should—”
“Lord, forgive me for saying this,” Zuark said obviously not caring one way or the other. “But the Warlord will surely order the High Marshalls to send First Claw Valjoth here—”
Karnak snapped his jaws closed strangling on his rage. Oh Zuark didn’t just say that name; he didn’t dare raise that name within his hearing!
“Valjoth... always it is Valjoth!” Karnak moved in the blink of an eye, and Zuark staggered back in shock. He fell to the deck, his blood pumping from his torn throat.
“Clean that up,” Karnak said coldly and flicked blood off his claws onto the deck. It was the last thing Zuark heard before sliding into the dark. “Prepare to receive the vermin. We will kill until this ship’s decks run with rivers of blood.”
Enthusiastic growls and gnashing of fangs met the announcement as was expected of them, but none doubted they would die long before sunset on this vermin cursed world. Karnak pretended not to notice the sidelong glances, and their pretended sincerity. They had all long since made peace with the fact they would become a mere footnote of history in a far larger war. A war fought without them.
Valjoth would be the one hailed as conqueror, the rewards his and quite possibly the throne one day. The blood would surely choose him. He was the best choice. He hated that, but it was true and their people needed the best if they were to prevail over the Humans. Karnak’s hatred suddenly died within his heart as he made his own peace with his fate. Yes, Valjoth would conquer. He hoped the vicious bastard brought the entire host here to punish the vermin of this world. He would be avenged though he doubted Valjoth would see it that way or care.
Karnak wondered again if the news of the Human intervention had reached Kiar—the home system—yet. How would Valjoth react to the knowledge he had been pre-empted? Karnak would never know, but he hoped it sent Valjoth into a rage so that he might come here all the more quickly. It would be good to destroy such a large force of Humans as a prelude to the final destruction of the vermin alliance of worlds.
The new batches of troops had proven themselves here. Their enhanced intelligence made them harder to control, true, but it made them especially effective against vermin using unconventional tactics. The thrice-cursed Humans personified unconventional. The new troops were the future, he knew. He could foresee a time when the breeding programs switched entirely to the new model rather than three batches in ten as now.
All of his remaining troops were the new type. Didn’t that say something about them? When the only survivors were all from one batch, a wise commander took note. He wished he might inform Valjoth somehow. Probably unnecessary anyway. Like Usk and Zuark, Valjoth descended from batches based upon changes made in the breeding programs after the failed Human cleansing. That particular type of vermin were pernicious and hard to eradicate. A fitting challenge, but extremely dangerous. He knew that only too well. There hadn’t been that many Humans in the system when they turned his victory into a humiliating defeat. That had changed with a larger force arriving to reinforce the original scouting element. He assumed it was a scouting force he had faced on the other habitable world based upon the reports of its size. It was preposterous how hard they had hit his troops with such a puny force, but he couldn’t argue with the disastrous result. The Human vermin might be as terrible a foe as the Makers had been.
His fur ruffled at the thought.
His people had rebelled and defeated their creators who had shaped and enslaved them millennia ago, and they had vowed never to be subjugated again. They no longer fought and died as slaves. They were the masters now. Let the vermin serve them or die.
Vermin extinction was of course his preference. He was firmly on the side of the total cleansing of the galaxy as any right thinking Merkiaari should be, and he strongly disapproved of the current policy of increasing the number of client races in the Hegemony. Not that the Warlord would care what he thought of course. But how many was enough? They risked making the same mistakes that the cursed Kiar had made by over reaching. Greed for more worlds, more resources, more client races to build and make things, while the Merkiaari did what the Kiar had bred them to do.
Fight and kill.
Perhaps that was why the new troops were so important, he mused. It wasn’t the first time he had considered the notion. Zuark often said... well, he used to say their people needed to build things for themselves. Perhaps even breed their own builders and makers of things. A heretical thought, but were not ship engineers only a small step from that notion already? They were Merkiaari that did not fight; at least, they did not fight in the usual sense. Ships were weapons and they used and maintained the equipment aboard them. They killed vermin in space, or the ships did. In his eyes, ship crews were just another type of fighter. Perhaps he should not have killed Zuark earlier. He would have liked to discuss this revelation with him.
Perhaps such breeding programs were the future of his people. If so, he didn’t want to see it. Not that he had the choice. He couldn’t imagine what Merkiaari makers and builders would be like. Perhaps they would look like the vermin here or on other worlds that he had helped cleanse. The thought was horrible. He could use the new troops, even admire them for their prowess as fighters, but although they looked the same as he, they were already different enough to feel alien to him. They thought different thoughts, and often did things contrary to his understanding and training. They weren’t vermin, but they weren’t truly Merkiaari to him either. His people were evolving at a rapid rate into something he didn’t truly understand. Good then that he would be dead soon. Let Valjoth deal with the consequences of the Warlord’s orders.
He settled himself in the command couch and closed his eyes again. He wished the vermin would hurry up and attack so he might kill something. He shouldn’t have killed Zuark. He wished he hadn’t. They would have fought shoulder to shoulder in his last battle as tradition said they should. Now he would die with no shield bearer by his side. Another mistake.
“Lord, the vermin come,” Rintuk reported.
Karnak opened his eyes and bared his fangs. “Good.”
* * *
4 ~ Promises To Keep
The ruins of Shoshon, Harmony
“... hold what you got!” the anonymous voice said over the comm.
Gina glanced at Hiller from the safety of their OP, and he shrugged. He didn’t have any better idea than she did about what was going on within the downed Merki ship. Hiller’s visor was up, as was Gina’s as they listened to the action via helmet comm, and she could see his frown as he tried to make sense of the orders. She had a schematic of the Merkiaari ship up on her internal display. The General had ordered everyone to update their data on this class of ship this morning at the briefing. She used it now as she attempted to place where in the ship the current front line was.
“Sounds hot in there,” Gina muttered.
“Yeah well, better them than us,” Hiller said callously and Gina frowned at him. “Come on, Gina. Jung is right this time. We’ve bled enough.”
She shifted uncomfortably. It was true that the regiment had bled and bled and bled for the Shan in this campaign and the preceding one, but vipers were made for killing Merki. Jung’s people would do their best; they were doing it right now, but they couldn’t match Merki one on one. Lives were being unnecessarily lost in there.
She had heard it said that any single viper was worth ten unenha
nced soldiers, but that should only be a consideration in force level planning, never for justifying who should live or die. She didn’t hold with people who considered one life more worthy than another. She had never felt that way. The death of a Shan warrior, an unenhanced Human soldier, or a viper, were all equally tragic to her. It surprised her that Hiller of all people didn’t feel the same, and it made her wonder who else agreed with him. Had he always felt that way, or was it battle fatigue?
They had been in contact with the enemy one way or the other every day for well over a year, closer to two. They were all tired. She was, God knew, but it wasn’t a physical tiredness. Physically, vipers were in top shape when not actively repairing combat damage, their enhancements saw to that, but mentally was another matter. She had seen it before becoming a viper. Constant combat dulled the senses. They started taking chances without regard for the consequences. She had seen it in combat as a marine, and vipers were not immune to it. Gordon came to mind, though he seemed a lot better since they had left Child of Harmony behind. Mental toughness was a defining attribute the regiment looked for in its recruits, and every viper was tough, but there had to be a limit even for them.
They had all seen friends killed true dead, but Gina had to wonder if it was the wounded that hurt them the most. Vipers could take hideous damage and survive due to their enhancements. Survival was a good thing, but seeing the same faces “killed” and then awake only to be killed again over and over was hard. More than hard; it numbed the mind until death became nothing to them. If death had no meaning, could life have any?
She had seen for herself how different the veteran vipers like the General or Captain Penleigh were to her and the other new units. They—and others like Sergeants Stone and Rutledge—had made the Alliance and the regiment a kind of surrogate for life. They had nothing else to live for, and Gina feared she and the other new vipers were already well on the way to the same destination. Certainly they were on the same path. Was there any alternative?
She didn’t think so, and hoped to God her duty would be enough to comfort her in the years to come as it had up until now. She didn’t have any family. Previously she’d considered her fellow marines all the family she needed and had transferred that feeling to her fellow vipers since. It was a comfortable feeling for her, something that had not changed in her life when everything else, even her body, had.
She frowned as she thought of her eggs in cryo back on Snakeholme. All vipers were sterile, but she had opted to have her eggs harvested before enhancement. She had never planned to have children, and ticking the option on her medical release had been a spur of the moment decision, but now she wondered if perhaps she had unconsciously wanted to leave something of herself behind when she died true dead. Something other than disembodied memories in the regiment’s archive.
Gina shook her head and forced the morbid thoughts away. She was a soldier, and that is all she had ever wanted to be. That had not changed, and she had never wavered from her determination to be the best that she could be. The Merkiaari were Humanity’s ultimate enemy. What better test could she ask for?
Jung’s plan was a simple one as far as Gina and the rest of the regiment was concerned. They were to sit tight and wait for an invitation to join the party. Gina would have preferred getting the party started herself, waiting was the worst part about soldiering, but orders were orders. The General had decided to allow Jung her moment in the limelight by backing her up as a ready reserve. Vipers were always ready for mayhem, but holding back in a reserve position had to be a first for him. Maybe not too. Burgton had been around for centuries after all.
“Faragut-actual, Swordsman-three-niner. The armoury is secured, Colonel.”
“Swordsman-three-niner, Faragut-actual copies. Good work. Hold until relieved,” Colonel Jung replied.
Gina was pleased to hear that. The armoury was one of three priority targets: the command centre, the armoury, and engineering. Other areas of the ship had various degrees of importance assigned to them, but those three were the most dangerous in enemy hands. Engineering was the most dangerous. The ship was probably unable to fly due to damage, and taking control of engineering would ensure that it stayed put regardless, but there was one more thing that a dedicated Merkiaari trooper could do in engineering—overload the power plant. The ship would become a fusion bomb. Not something anyone wanted to see happen. Scuttling the ship could also be achieved via the command centre, but required engineering to accomplish, so it was considered less important. It was flagged as a priority target for two reasons. The Merki commander was probably there directing his troops, and if there was any intelligence to be gained, the ship’s computers were likely to be the best source.
“Faragut-actual, Swordsman-one-one. Engineering is ours. I have all access ways covered, Colonel, but they aren’t giving up. They’re pushing us hard. I’m not certain we can hold for long. Any word on how long to take the command centre, sir?”
“Swordsman-one-one, Faragut-actual. The word is fifteen minutes. Can you hold?”
“Not confident, Colonel. Any help you can send would be appreciated.”
Gina perked up. If Jung sent reinforcements it would be supplied by her and the others. She listened intently as Jung debated and delayed the inevitable until all her people had reported in. Finally, Jung requested aid. Burgton replied and assigned the vipers their targets, but Gina’s command was ordered to hold position.
“Gold-one, Alpha-leader,” Gina began, but the General interrupted.
“Alpha-leader, Gold-one. I know what you’re going to say. Permission denied. Hold position as ordered. This will be over soon and I have something I need you to do for me.”
“Gold-one, Alpha-leader copies. Holding position,” Gina replied, and if she sounded just a little sullen, Burgton did not comment. “Alpha-leader out.”
Hiller was giving her the evil eye. Gina glared back. “What?”
“You know what.”
Gina shrugged uncomfortably.
“Since when do you volunteer for every dangerous job? It’s not like you. What gives?”
“Is that an insult?” Gina said feeling the sting. “I don’t hide from danger.”
“And that’s your problem right there, Gina. Sensible people take precautions and if that means hiding then that’s what they do, but you’ve been sticking your neck out at every opportunity lately. More to the point, you’re sticking my neck out. I don’t like that.”
Gina would have exploded at that accusation if she couldn’t see the worry on his face and hear it in his voice. She always busted her butt to keep her people safe, and then have it thrown back in face... she sighed. Hiller was worried for her, that’s all. Hadn’t she been feeling the same for Cragg, for Gordon, and the others? Yeah, she had.
“Sorry, Ian, it’s just that our people are going into danger and we can’t protect them. I can’t protect them.”
“They’re not children, they’re soldiers. They don’t need your protection. Don’t dishonour them or yourself by treating them as less than they are, Gina. They’re good at what they do, we all are. They’ll look after each other... they’ll be fine.”
“Right, you’re right,” Gina said and she had no choice anyway. The General had ordered her to hold here, so she would hold. “I wonder what he meant about a job later.”
“Dunno,” Hiller said and turned back to his observation of the ship.
Gina kept watch and listened to the comm, but it was all as routine as it was possible to be in a combat situation. The vipers engaged the enemy hitting them at multiple locations in the rear. They took very few injuries, no casualties at all, and Gina had to put up with Hiller’s I told you so look. She was happy to do it.
“All units, Faragut-actual. Ship secured. Well done people,” Colonel Jung said.
Gina sighed and rolled her head on her neck to ease tension. Job done. As far as the regiment was concerned, the Merki incursion of the Shan system had been successfully repulsed. T
here was nothing more to do but clean up. The Shan would handle that, while the Alliance went to phase two—defence of the outer system while reconstruction got underway. No one had brought Gina into the loop regarding the regiment’s next step, but her guess was that it would board Grafton and jump outsystem back to base.
Aboard shuttle victor-one, on route to Zuleika spaceport.
Gina was right regarding the regiment, but she had one more mission to perform before they all left for home. At the end of the Child of Harmony campaign, Gina had made a very special promise to a friend. She hadn’t been able to make good on that promise at the time, but she had brought it to the General’s attention soon after she had obligated herself and the regiment, in case she didn’t survive to make good. The General had remembered, and now she was on her way by his side to Child of Harmony aboard a shuttle—a loner from Victorious. Captain Fernandez had agreed to be their taxi and had given them a day trip aboard Victorious to Child of Harmony orbit while Grafton used her shuttles and dropships to retrieve the regiment and its gear from Harmony.
“... with us to Snakeholme. Do you think she’ll agree?” Burgton said.
Gina frowned. “Has she given us reason to think she won’t?”
Burgton cocked his head and pursed his lips. “Noooo, but I don’t think it’s been explained to her yet. Professor Wilder has visited a time or two, and he contacted me about her. He tells me that she’s not coping well.”
Gina nodded in understanding. “You remember her, sir? She was the one who planted the transmitter on the Merkiaari heading for our base at Charlie Epsilon. That’s how she was blinded. When the nukes went off, she was too close. Flash blinded.”
Burgton nodded.
“All her life she’s known that she would go blind. Her mother was in an accident and it did something bad to her insides. Her cubs were born dead except two. Chailen is fine, but Shima had weak eyes. The visor she used to wear helped, but it was just a stop gap.”
Merkiaari Wars: 03 - Operation Oracle Page 5
