Exodus: Empires at War: Book 9: Second Front

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Exodus: Empires at War: Book 9: Second Front Page 25

by Doug Dandridge


  “Oh, at ease, Gauroi,” ordered Sung, a smile on her face. “You’ll probably get a medal for your quick thinking. And maybe a transfer to Intelligence.”

  “Oh God, no,” groaned the Commander. “Anything but that. I sure as hell don’t want to become some damned Spook. I’d take a demotion to Lieutenant JG and command of a fast attack craft before I’d let them do that to me.”

  “You realize that I spent some years in Intelligence, Commander,” said Sung, her eyes narrowing, while she laughed inside. If she had it to do over again, she was not sure she would have accepted that decade long assignment. There was something slimy about working the spy game that line officers didn’t have to deal with. Necessary slime, but there had been nights when sleep had not come easy. And now there might be more of those nights in store for her.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. I know that we need spies. It‘s just that I don’t need to be one.”

  “Well, you did a damned fine job subbing for one. Most intelligence work comes down to waiting for an opportunity and jumping on it when it happens.” She looked down for a moment, wondering what was going to come out of this information, which had already been transmitted back to the Empire through the wormhole.

  “So, we found out, if the Klavarta are telling the truth. Genocide, slavery, cloning. I never would have imagined such in my worst nightmare.”

  “And will we ally ourselves with such people?”

  “I don’t see how,” said Sung, shaking her head. “I think we will end up with an Imperial decree of mutual aid, but a formal alliance? I think not. Which means no tech exchange, no combined operations.”

  “They might not take that news very well,” said Laaksonen.

  “They might not, and this decision is well above my pay grade. I’m just glad that I’m not the one who has to make it.”

  “Ma’am, came a call over com. “One of our people had disappeared down on the moon.”

  Shit, she thought, staring back at Laaksonen, whose mouth hung open. And what will the Council learn from my crewperson?

  * * *

  “We have not been able to locate the Klavarta that were involved,” said the Intelligence Officer on the other end of the holo. “Perhaps we shouldn’t have let the Imperials return to their ship. I am certain we could get the information we need out of them, given time.”

  “And anger the Imperials?” growled Chairwoman Marion Pallion, staring at the face of the Pure in the holo. “And then we would not get any kind of treaty with them.” Don’t these idiots see that we must have that treaty. From what we have learned, the Empire has almost caught up with the Monsters technologically, while all we can do is copy the enemy’s tech when we can get our hands on it. The Empire will soon be the superior in tech, and we will need that advantage.

  “Just a suggestion, ma’am,” said the Officer. “They are a long way from their home, after all, ma’am. And only the information that we allow to go back with them will ever get to their leaders.”

  “And we won’t know if such a ploy worked till over a year later, you idiot,” screamed Pallion. “These are humans we are talking about. Humans, with as much understanding of human physiology and psychology as we have. They will figure it out, and then we will be doubly damned.”

  Pallion stared down at her desk for a moment, thinking, then back up at the Officer. “Keep a close watch on the Imperials. I want no more disappearances like this last one. I will have the heads of the surveillance agents who lose track of any of the Imperials who are visiting our world. It will not happen again, understand.”

  The Officer nodded, his lips tight. And that may be you if you don’t watch out, thought the Chairwoman.

  “And I want those damned treacherous Klavarta found as well. I will not have them screwing with our chances to have an ally in this war.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I will put every spare agent I can find on that. We will find out who they are.”

  Pallion cut the transmission with a huff of disgust. The Secret Police and Military Intelligence people were always making promises like this, and never delivering on them. We’ll just have to put the fear of God in them, so they deliver, she thought, never realizing that operating out of fear of their superiors was one thing they didn’t need more of.

  * * *

  “How bad is it?” asked Jennifer as they sat at the table in one of the many small dining rooms in the palace. They were alone, allowing them to talk freely without worrying about one of the servants overhearing. The serving staff, of course, had high clearances, but it was better to be safe than to wake up the next day with news services screaming out to the masses what they had talked about in apparent secrecy the night before. The room was swept continuously for surveillance devices, like the rest of the palace, and privacy fields were in place.

  “About as bad as can be,” he told her, putting his wine glass on the table top. He didn’t really want to get drunk, and yet he did. He just wasn’t sure he could get drunk enough, and, if not, why bother? “To start off with, genocide. They’ve killed off every intelligent non-human species in their space, so they wouldn’t be betrayed to the Cacas. They’ve built a short lived slave subspecies of humans. In fact, they’ve created several specialized subspecies, whose only purpose was to make war.”

  “That’s bad enough,” agreed Jennifer, shaking her head. “But the genocide.”

  “Yeah. We’ll have people wanting to declare war on them as well,” said Sean, grimacing. “And wouldn’t that be wonderful. A three way brouhaha, winner take all.”

  “Surely it wouldn’t come to that,” exclaimed Jennifer, her hands going to her mouth.

  “Oh, it wouldn’t come to that. We‘re too far from each other for us to engage in any kind of combat, especially with the Cacas in between us. But full cooperation is out, even without the other complications.”

  “Other complications?”

  “Well, there’s the fact that their created subspecies are considered a subclass, denied many of the benefits of their society, while being forced to fight for it. And then there’s the cloning.”

  “Cloning?” asked Jennifer, a horrified look on her face. Sean knew the shock she must be feeling. Full organism cloning had been outlawed on Old Earth, due to the fact that the, thing, that was produced did not act like a normal human. No matter how it was raised, or even if it had the memories of a saint loaded into it after creation, it was devoid of empathy. It became a psychopath, a being devoid of conscience. A destructive creature that was only out for itself. Body part cloning was a different prospect. An arm, leg or kidney didn’t have to have a conscience.

  “It was understandable that they had to resort to it,” said Sean, looking into her eyes. “Otherwise, as far as they knew, the human species was gone. But no matter the reasoning behind it, it still resulted in a nightmare.”

  “And there is really no way of covering this up, is there?”

  “I can’t lie to my supporters in Parliament about this,” said the Emperor, shaking his head. “I would lose any credibility I have with them. And once we establish wormhole communication with these people, once we are sending people back and forth from our space and theirs, it’s bound to get out. All of it.”

  “Maybe we can talk the present government into giving up their power,” suggested the Empress. “And a new government could be formed that had no connections to the atrocities.”

  “I doubt the old government will go peacefully,” said Sean, reaching for his wine glass to take another sip. “Remember, the people we are talking about are thinking of number one first and foremost. They will do what they need to do to insure the survival of their people, but only as long as it ensures their own position.”

  “Isn’t there something we could do to, push them into change?””

  “That’s something I really didn’t want to think about. But yes, there might be something we can do. The problem is, will I be able to live with myself if I do?”

  “You’ll do what
you have to,” said his wife, getting up from her seat, walking around the table and putting her arms around her husband. “And I’ll stand with you no matter what.”

  “Then I guess I’ll go ahead and get the operation rolling,” said Sean, putting his hand on the one of hers that was across his chest. With a thought he connected with the palace secure com system. “Get me Director Sergiov, immediately.” A moment later the Director of the Imperial Intelligence Agency was on the link. “You have authorization, Ekaterina. Get your operation together, but wait for my go ahead.”

  He sat there for a minute in thought, then made the final decision. “And I need someone I trust on the pointed end of the operation, Ekaterina. I know he isn’t going to like it, but I know just the man for the job.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  When soldiers have been baptized in the fire of a battlefield, they have all one rank in my eyes.

  Napoleon Bonaparte

  NEW MOSCOW: MAY 21ST, 1002.

  “Do you understand your orders, Captain?” asked Lt. General Samuel Baggett.

  “I understand what they are, sir,” replied Cornelius Walborski. “I really don’t understand why I was chosen to escort prisoners through the wormhole gate network. It would seem to me that you could just detail some heavy infantry for this kind of escort mission, and leave me where I belong, out in the brush.”

  “I don’t know why you were selected, Captain,” growled Bagger, staring into the Ranger’s eyes. “The orders came down from high command, and I’ll leave it to you to guess at the ultimate origin of those orders.”

  The Emperor, thought Walborski, reading the face of the General and noting that the senior officer was no more comfortable with what was going on than he was.

  “And what’s going to happen to these Cacas, sir?”

  “I didn’t expect that you would care all that much for the bastards.”

  “I really don’t care about them,” said Cornelius, holding back the anger that wanted to come rushing out. “But I gave the ones I captured my word that they would not be harmed.”

  “And that promise was not one you should have given,” said Baggett, more sorrow than anger on his face at the moment. “I know. It’s something we’re expected to promise prisoners. But it’s also a promise we really don’t have the authority to make. So get your team ready. You will sign for the prisoners tomorrow morning, and will escort them to the Fleet Research Installation on Space Station Alpha Three One, in orbit around the planet Forge. There you will await further instructions.”

  “And no hint of what’s going on here?”

  “None, Captain. You must realize by now that you belong to the Empire in general, and the Imperial Army in particular. Just like myself. They will send you where they want, when they want. And they will expect obedience, even at the cost of your life. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Cornelius, straightening to the position of attention.

  “Understand this, Captain. You are the ultimate fighting machine, and one I am proud to command. But you have a tendency to cowboy it. Go off your own and do your own thing. Been known to accomplish great things when you do that, but the Army needs you to be part of the team. The Emperor expects great things from you. I agree. But you must follow orders, sometimes to the letter. Sometimes with some initiative. Just like you are going to depend on the men and women under you to do the same.”

  Cornelius really didn’t like going through these combination pep talks and dressing down. But when a three star general decided they wanted to lay down the law, there was nothing to do but stand there and listen.

  “Now, go get some rest, meet your team, and be prepared to carry out the mission at sunrise local time. Dismissed.”

  Cornelius found his team waiting for him in one of the temp quarters the Army had established on the planet. It was a good team, twenty Rangers, including some of the men he had recently commanded. And a dozen Naval Commandos for good measure. All had heard the same thing, that they were going to escort prisoners, then report to a research base for mission training. All had curious looks on their faces, questions that the Captain could not answer, because he didn’t know himself.

  The next morning they gathered on a field next to the wormhole portal they were going to use. A hundred Cacas were there as well, their hands and feet bound in shackles, muzzles over their snouts. There were many confused looks, some glaring anger, some fear. Cornelius was sure that the aliens had been told nothing. That was a state of affairs that was sure to hold until they got to the research facility.

  The portal had been enlarged to handle the size of the Cacas. The field, which was normally crowded with people coming and going from the planet was empty with the exception of Cornelius’ team and the company of heavy infantry that guarded the prisoners and kept bystanders away. Walborski signed for the prisoners, was given the travel plan uploaded into his link, and motioned toward the portal.

  It took seven transits to get to the station, where the prisoners were taken out of his custody and his men were given quarters. Meanwhile, the Captain was brought to a briefing room and filled in on the mission. He left with a horrified expression on his face, a feeling of impending doom, and a wish that he had never met the Emperor.

  * * *

  JEWEL.

  Captain Ishuhi Rykio still didn’t feel all that comfortable walking into the same room as what they had come to call the Yugalyth Queen. The creature gave him the creeps. He was told that was a normal reaction to a thing that basically ate biomass, converting it to its own, then mimicking the creature it had ingested. The Yugalyth had a filthy feel to them, one that seemed to rub off on those who had to deal with them.

  And here I am, walking in to talk to this Queen, this time to enlist its aid. And I won’t be telling it the entire truth, once again. Just another day in Fleet Intelligence, and one of the reasons I opted out to become an honest cop.

  “Welcome, Ishuhi Rykio,” said the large creature as one of its numerous eyes spotted him, followed by dozens more. It had changed its configurations several times since its capture, each more unsettling than the last. “You have news for me.”

  All of its Children had been removed from its custody and placed in isolation. They had been poked, prodded, and analyzed. Some had been put down, and taken apart to the molecular level to determine what made them tick. It had been especially important to find out how to scope them out in their mimic configurations, before they started their attacks on Imperial society once again.

  “We have need of your services,” said the Captain, stopping just out of reach of the creature’s pseudopods and looking up at the disconcerting sight of dozens of eyes staring at him. “We need a score of you as agents for an important operation.”

  “And you will trust my, Children?”

  “Let’s just say that they will receive some provisional trust. They will be well monitored, and under the direction of our operatives.”

  “Then take all of the Children that you need. I am sure they will cooperate with you. And I have no way of influencing them once they have separated from me. They are their own creatures at this point, with their own sense of self preservation.”

  “I didn’t think that you had much of that instinct,” said Rykio. “Your kind has carried out enough suicide attacks.” But they were programed by others of your kind, ones who were not quite so suicidal. After all, the research had shown them much about the psychology of these creatures.

  “My Children would have enough, since they have been separated from me for months. If you want obedient operatives, you will have to let me grow them, or let the ones you have separated from me grow them, if you can convince them to do your bidding.”

  “How about if you grow them for us?”

  “I would be glad to. I just need sufficient biomass to convert, and genetic samples of the targets you wish me to mimic.”

  “And how long will it take to mimic some large creatures?”

  “How la
rge” asked the Mother, all of the pupils in its many eyes dilating.

  “Ca’cadasan size.”

  “You want me to duplicate those creatures?”

  “Exactly. That is what we need. And if you want to be our friend, you will do this one little thing for us.”

  “And after that I can have my freedom?”

  The Captain laughed, not taking his eyes off the dangerous creature. “I don’t think so. But you will be given some more in the way of, let us say, luxuries.”

  “And what more could I ask for?” said the creature, mimicking the laugh of the Captain. “I have shelter, food, interesting conversation. The best medical care I could ask for, even if its purpose is to figure out how to find and destroy my kind.”

  “We’ll figure something out, if you are agreeable.”

  “I can do it, but it will take some more days than normal to build the basic bodies. Then a few more days to program them to mimic the Ca’cadasans. I assume that you do want them to pass themselves off as, what do you call them in your delightful slang, Cacas?”

  “That would be nice. And we need them as soon as possible.”

  “And will they be coming back from this mission?”

  “We will do everything we can to make sure they return. But I will not lie to you.” At least about this part. “This is an extremely hazardous mission, and many of our human operatives may not return.”

  The creature continued to look at him, and he could tell by the dilation of the pupils that it really didn’t trust what he was saying. Wise creature. But will it do what we need, or will we have to alter whatever operation this is, lowering the chances for success. That’s what it all came down to, chances of success, weighed against chances of survival.

  “Very well. I will do it. Maybe this will prove to you that we can be trusted. That we can be on your side.”

  And I’ll believe that about the same time I start believing in garden fairies, thought the Intelligence Officer as he left the chamber. Now all we have to do is to figure out what your game is, and what we have to do to make you do what we want regardless of your own motivations.

 

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