by John Ringo
"And those are?" Van Krief asked.
"When I figure that out, I'll tell you," Herzer admitted.
* * *
"So that's what we're looking at," Herzer said, gesturing at the schematic which was laid out on the living room floor. "We won't know where we're going to dock until we get there. No team can be trained to simply go for a single objective because it will depend upon where they dock. And there are three potential objectives. Which one we strike at first depends on the distribution of our forces."
"That's why they went with all soldiers in the first wave," Van Krief said, nodding at the briefing papers.
"Right," Herzer said. "And they were going to bore for the control center, no matter what. Unless we're concentrated near the control center, I'm going to bore for the one spot nobody should care about."
"Where?" Van Krief asked, sliding her hand over the schematic. "Engineering?"
"Nope," Herzer said. "Maintenance."
Chapter Eleven
Chansa waited in the reflection dappled dimness as Reyes strode down the corridor of pillars.
The meeting had been, perforce, in Celine's domain since it was in person and Celine refused to go beyond the walls of the Nira valley. The chosen venue was an ancient temple, once ruined and now restored to much of its former glory, a building of massive pillars supporting a heavy, and heavily carved, roof. The sides of the building, which was perched at the top of a high bluff, were open to hot, dry winds and the view to the east revealed apparently limitless deserts. To the west was a broad river valley touched by green and criss-crossed by irrigation ditches which was, again, limited to the west by another bluff and more desert.
Each of the New Destiny council had claimed broad lands, but Celine's were relatively limited, she controlled only the Nira Valley but it was hers in a way that Frika, for example, which was titularly Chansa's, was not. He had afforded himself only a brief glance of the surroundings but it was clear that it bore all the hallmarks of Celine's touch.
Celine Reinshafen was a short woman with dark brown hair and skin that was tanned a light brown by the desert sun. At first glance she appeared entirely normal, except for the Key around her neck. Then, when you looked at her eyes, it was clear that she was no longer of this world. She was New Destiny's premier designer of "specialized biologicals" which even Chansa had come to call "monsters." Celine called them her "pets." It was in Celine's labs that the orcs and ogres that made up the bulk of Chansa's forces had first been developed. It was from Celine's mind that methods for creating the horribly Changed elves sprung, full-blown, as if some latter day, evil, Athena Nike. Thousands of them were being grown in darkness; in tenebrous chambers where weird fungal growths digested noisome refuse to feed the pods. It was from Celine that specialized assassination forms had come, modifications to dragons that made them more effective at combat, all of the monsters that were New Destiny's weapons in the war.
And unlike Chansa and Reyes, she appeared unprotected by a field. There were times at meetings like this that Chansa considered removing her from the world of the living. Of swiftly drawing his massive sword and cutting her head from her body, a wound that not even Mother would heal.
But he never did. For one thing, he knew he needed her. The Freedom Coalition had been victorious in too many battles to remove any edge. For another reason, he doubted that she was unprotected and he knew in his bones that he, Chansa, would never survive even if he managed to kill her.
Unlike Chansa, who was in powered armor, Reyes was dressed for the weather in a light shirt and shorts colored pink and green. He was a slender, wiry man with a shock of blonde hair and a face that was more beautiful than handsome: thin, delicate chin, high cheekbones and full, red lips. He looked like an angel that had just stepped out of a painting by a Renaissance master. Beside him, Chansa looked like a giant troll.
Chansa knew that the innocent face and expression held a mind that reveled in things that even made his skin crawl. The orcs that made up Chansa's legions were cruel and vicious things but within that cruelty he tried to manage them as humanly as he could. Like Celine, however, Reyes positively reveled in cruelty. Chansa had been required to sack more than one town in the quest to dominate Ropasa. When Reyes took a town it ceased to exist. The men and children were tortured to death and any of the women that didn't catch his eye were turned over to his Durgar for brutality that made Chansa's stomach wrench. Those that did catch his eye were, if anything, in worse condition if for no other reason than that Reyes took longer to kill them.
Chansa knew that by siding with Paul Bowman in this revolt, he had chosen the side of darkness. Paul wanted to remake the world and no matter how that was done, it would inflict pain upon those who lived in it. But Paul, for all that he seemed to be going mad towards the end, had, at heart, been a good person. He had wanted to do good in the world. Others of the "first council" had agreed that the world simply needed a good shaking up to bring it out of its sink of apathy and stagnation before the human race disappeared from boredom.
Reyes and the others that had come into the New Destiny council after its casualties in the first days of the war, and since, were in it purely for the power. Direct power over humans that could be tormented as a child tortures insects. He wished there was some way to simply erase them and start over, along with Celine and the Demon. But they were all he had to work with and, perforce, he used them, as they used him, to satisfy his own ambitions.
As Reyes approached, Chansa noticed that there was a swirling field around him that lifted the sand of the floor and tossed it in swirls of color.
"Very pretty," Chansa said when Reyes closed. "Good to see you looking well and enjoying yourself."
"Oh, it's far more than pretty," Reyes said, smiling beatifically. "Chansa, Celine," he added, with a slight bow.
"It's a grav field," Celine snapped.
"It is indeed," Reyes replied, smiling again to reveal perfect, white teeth. "Now that the Freedom Coalition has your protection field neutralizing nannites, I thought it best to create an outer defense. Just to protect against Coalition assassins, of course."
"Of course," Chansa said, dryly. Paul Bowman had ordered at least one assassination to retain control among the members of the ND Council. Reyes was protecting himself against far more than just New Destiny's enemies.
"So you want me to retake the fuel ship?" Reyes said, coming to the point. "I suppose I can manage that. I've uploaded the schematics of the ship and the weakpoints are obvious. I also agree with the basic plan."
"You'll need to take the control room," Chansa noted. "Which is going to be where the UFS forces head as well."
"It's definitely the UFS that will be used?" Reyes asked. "After Celine's...efficient removal of their first team, I'd wondered. Ishtar has some...good fighters," he added, bitterly.
"So she does," Chansa said, neutrally. Reyes and Jassinte Arizzi had been thoroughly defeated by those forces. In Chansa's opinion, that was less due to the quality of Ishtar's forces than the bungling of Arizzi. But he wasn't going to suggest that to one of the generals that had lost. "But we're certain they will stay with the UFS managing the attack. Among other things, although we got the fighters and techs, the UFS still retains all the base-line instruction materials and training facilities. Dwarven Mining Consolidated is handling all the ground support. They'll pull together a scratch team. I'd even lay odds on who they'll chose."
"Edmund Talbot?" Celine asked. "I am sure I can eliminate him."
"Not Talbot," Chansa said. "He's a bit too old for ongoing combat. No, it will probably be Herzer Herrick. And I'd suspect that the Council Member will be Megan Travante."
"Now that is a prize worth fighting for," Reyes said with a chuckle and a lick of the lips. "I was so put out when Paul's harem fled. Well, except for one poor, poor soul."
Chansa bit his lip on what he was tempted to say and nodded.
"Herrick's Talbot's number one protégé," Chansa noted. "He's trained in
a very hard school, extremely flexible and a dangerous opponent."
"I understand he's been a thorn in your side more than once?" Reyes said with a slight smile.
"Yes. But you'll have your Durgar and, of course, Celine has her...additions," Chansa said. "But I would like to commend your attention to a person of some ability I would suggest you use. Tur-uck!"
A Ropasan orc came from beyond one of the pillars, his head bowed, and threw himself to his hands and knees in the presence of the Great Ones.
"This is Group Leader Tur-uck," Chansa said. "While most of the orcs that Celine makes seem to have been lobotomized in the Change, this one can actually use his brains for something other than keeping his ears apart."
"He is damaged," Celine hissed. "This one is untrustworthy."
"Mistress!" Tur-uck whined. "I am not. I am a good orc! I have proven my trust!"
"Why do you say that?" Chansa said, quizzically. "I've found him to be very useful."
"He is damaged," Celine snapped. "He never should have been Changed. There is a plate in his head, repairs from before his Change. By a skilled surgeon, I would say. It interferes with control pathways. This one I cannot warrantee, I would recommend his elimination."
"Interesting," Chansa said, nodding. "Well, all I can say is that if this interference is what makes him what he is, I'd wish you'd put plates in all my orcs' heads."
"He cannot be trusted," Celine repeated, raising her hand to strike.
"Hold!" Chansa said. "This is my soldier. You will not take action against him against my wishes."
"He is a bad product," Celine growled. "He should not be. It is...it's bad production. He should never have been made. I have the code of the...blast and damn! He was made by that O'Connor fisking idiot! No wonder! None of my acolytes would have made him!"
"Made by O'Connor," Chansa said, musingly. "Now that is interesting. He had the protocols, but I was not aware that he had used them. He is far beyond your wrath, however, Celine."
Chansa considered the information for a moment. The New Destiny agent had participated in the abortive invasion of Norau and been killed, from intelligence reports by Edmund Talbot's daughter who was not your normal killer. She was, in fact, a "skilled surgeon." He nodded in thought for a moment.
"Tur-uck was probably one of the patients under the care of Edmund Talbot's daughter, Rachel," he mused. "I could see O'Connor tormenting her by Changing someone like that."
"He should be eliminated," Celine repeated. "He is a bad product. He is bad quality control."
"I think that's up to Reyes," Chansa said. "What do you think, Reyes? I commend him to your service. I know of your Durgar and they are no more thoughtful than my own orc legionnaires. This one can think. You'll need a good, thinking, leader, in that damned ship."
"Hmmm," Reyes said, tilting his head from side to side. "Celine recommends that he be killed, like a sword that has been misforged. Chansa says he is a smart leader. Capable?"
"Quite," Chansa said. "He has been fighting the Gael and they are tricky opponents. I've promoted him twice for courage and initiative."
"What say you, Tur-uck?" Reyes said, grinning at the orc. "Should you be killed as a bad product? Or are you a loyal and capable orc?"
"I am loyal, Master," Tur-uck said, definitely. "I will be loyal to you beyond death!"
"Yours or mine?" Reyes mused. "Can you obey orders?"
"Always, Master," Tur-uck said then temporized. "I would obey any order from a Master or a Lesser Master, no matter what the order. I have twice disobeyed orders from Legion superiors when I saw advantage to the Masters."
"You see!" Celine shouted. "Untrustworthy!"
"And both times he was right," Chansa noted. "He was the only one to survive that debacle in Norau, including O'Connor, and he brought word of what was happening. The other time he took charge of a sub-unit while fighting the Gael and mousetrapped a group of Chudai, which is tough as hell I'll tell you."
"Chudai?" Reyes said, his eyes widening. "You have Chudai in Gael? Those bastards..."
"We have Chudai," Chansa ground out. "The Gael are bad enough, the Chudai are bastards to fight. The only time we've killed any number of them, it was when Tur-uck disobeyed orders."
"If he can kill Chudai, he is good enough for me," Reyes snorted. "Those bastards made our retreat from Alabad a nightmare. The Durgar hardly got a sniff of them until they attacked. They cut us up again and again."
"They do the same to my legions," Chansa sighed. "It's one of the reasons Gael is such a tough nut, besides the Gael themselves, who are no joke. But Tur-uck has fought them and won. By thinking. Take him. You will need him."
"And you don't?" Reyes said, suspiciously.
"We're...reconsolidating our forces," Chansa said, clearing his throat.
"Retreating?" Reyes asked. "Since when?"
"Our intelligence is that Talbot intends to bypass Breton and hit the Ropasan coast directly," Chansa said. "I've moved out of the Gael hills and am moving troops back to the Ropasan continent. We took quite a few casualties in Balmoran, so I need the troops."
"We can make more Changed," Celine said, shaking her head.
"The farming Changed can't produce food for shit," Chansa said. "I need the normal humans for support, not more useless Changed! I'm bleeding troops in a dozen directions, so I'm pulling back troops from Breton. My war, my decision!"
"I'll take him," Reyes said, cutting off the argument. "What else do you have for me?"
"We have one Dark One left," Celine said, angrily. "I can't make more until somebody captures me another elf or the pods grow to maturity, which will be at least five more years. You can have him. His name is Tragack."
"And what else?" Reyes said, interestedly.
"Oh, I have a few ideas," Celine said, smiling happily.
As she said that a scuttling sound began to come from the forest of pillars.
Chapter Twelve
"Tell Herzer I'm sorry as hell about this, Lieutenant," Colonel Torill said, shrugging and gesturing at the paper on his desk. "I'd give you all sorts of reports to baffle you with bullshit, but the bottomline is that we've got nothing in the way of intel on New Destiny's intentions. Anything that I told you, Herzer'd already know. Chansa and Celine are going to be involved. That means monsters and probably orcs. They have to take the ship and get the fuel. After that, zippo. There's no mass movement going on, that's for sure, but it's a small unit action so that doesn't affect you guys."
"What about observation in and around the reactors, sir?" Destrang asked, desperately. "That's where they'll have to board. It's early, yet, but we might at least get a feel for their forces."
"As far as I know, we have no such observers," Torill sighed. "Most of them are deep in New Destiny territory and they're surrounded by troops. Then there's the problem of real-time intelligence. We're talking about getting the message across oceans unless there's a communicator involved and the way we've been rolling up New Destiny rings is communications. I'm sorry, son, but we're screwed for intel."
"Yes, sir," Destrang said, gritting his teeth. He'd expected it to be bad, but not this bad. "I'll head back to discuss this with my superiors, sir."
"Do that," Torill said, grinning. "And tell Herzer I said hello."
"Yes, sir," Destrang said, getting to his feet and nodding as he left the office.
Torill's office was located in the special operations section of the War Department. The department had originally been in an ancient castle-like structure that over the millennia had served various purposes, most notably as a museum. As the need for more and more bureaucracy grew, or at least appeared to grow, buildings and wings had been hastily added to the structure and they now surrounded it in a giant growth that resembled nothing so much as an out-of-control cancer.
SpecOps was set well back from the main road, out on the fringe in more ways than one. The hodgepodge of building were cut by dirt roads, walkways, breezeways and cul-de-sacs in a chaos that had caus
ed more than one unlucky ensign to wander into the office of a senior officer so confused he could barely remember his name.
Destrang had navigated the maze before but he only knew certain paths and stuck to them religiously. He was just passing out of the SpecOps section and into SouthWestern Command Logistics when he heard his name called.
"Destrang, right?" a colonel said, wandering over and putting a friendly hand on his shoulder. "Been looking for you, lad."
"Yes, sir?" Destrang said, frowning slightly.
"Give me a moment of your time, lad?" the colonel said, gesturing towards one of the breezeways. "Shouldn't take long."
"Yes, sir, of course," Destrang said. He briefly had a paranoid thought related to his current assignment, but he was in the middle of the War Department. If New Destiny could slip an agent in here it was one thing. Bashing a lieutenant over the head and smuggling him out was another.
"So what do you think of your new assignment?" the colonel asked, bluffly. "Going to space and all that? Worked out the plumbing, yet, eh? Eh?" he added with a hearty laugh.
"I'm not sure what assignment you're referring to, sir," Destrang replied. "You're here at the War Department?"
"Logistics old son," the colonel said, grinning. "Bullock trains and whatnot. Done a bit of personnel work as well, you know, a commander works from sun to sun but a staffer's work is never done, eh? Had my eye on you when you were in officer basic but you got scooped up by that old scamp Edmund, what?"
"I've met, the Duke, sir," Destrang admitted. It was certainly open source.
"What do you think of working for Herrick, eh?" the colonel asked. They had passed through SouthWest Logistics and were now in Army logistics where the breezeway was somewhat more crowded.
Destrang considered that question and then nodded.
