by Joel Babbitt
Colonel Alexander shook his head in disbelief. “That sick, perverted monster,” he spat angrily. “What kind of a father gives his own daughter to a monster like Jones?”
“It’s worse, she’s only sixteen,” Ryker said “and she’s been here since she was fourteen.”
“Fourteen?” Captain Washington repeated in disbelief.
“This is a good thing you’ve done here,” Ryker said, smiling warmly at Colonel Alexander.
* * *
The harsh light of the next day waned and the nocturnal yazri of the clan began to awaken and prepare for the coming night. Most of the company, on the other hand, had slept until mid-day before awakening to prepare for whatever the day held. As they rolled up sleeping bundles and stuffed equipment into the four survey trucks, Colonel Alexander arrived from among the trees of the clan.
“We’re not going anywhere today,” he told Sergeant Thompson after he walked in the door of the cabin, in earshot of most of the group. “You can keep your kit packed, if you like, but tonight is a council of war that I can’t miss.”
No one questioned his order, and when he motioned for Captain Washington to follow him outside no one thought it strange. The two of them walked outside the log palisade that surrounded the small compound before stopping to talk.
“What’s up, sir?” Captain Washington asked, concern evident in her eyes.
“Remember our special friend?” he asked in a low voice.
“Yes, sir,” she answered. “Has he arrived already?”
Alexander nodded. “Apparently the Solkin Dominion ship that was there left via gravity well out toward the Rae-Liam Nebula, on its way to the fringe planets I guess.”
“So he’s taking the opportunity to get in here now before the Dominion ship returns,” she finished his thought.
“Yep, but you know we can’t meet him here,” Alexander said.
Shannon Washington nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll get a vehicle ready. Did he send the coordinates?”
“Yep,” he said, tapping his situence glasses.
“Very well, sir. I’m on it,” she said.
“Shannon, bring Mister Wolf along, please,” Alexander said.
“Yes, sir,” she replied, and within ten minutes they were mounted and on their way.
As they rode, Colonel Alexander knew this mission would require explaining to the two members of the company that hadn’t been initiated. He’d received permission to let Jack Wolf in on their secret, but after seeing how unstable Doctor Pastore was, he hadn’t even asked for clearance for her to be initiated. But that was a problem that he had a solution to.
“Well, you see Jack, Lieutenant Flanagan isn’t quite as dead as you thought,” Colonel Alexander said rather elusively, which wasn’t normal for the straight-talker.
“What you mean, boss?” Jack Wolf, survival expert for the company, asked as they bounced along through the jungle.
“Mister Wolf, our employer seems to think your services to our company are very valuable, valuable enough to let you in on a very big secret,” Alexander said.
Wolfman grew silent, rubbing his bushy red sideburns as he thought. He had convinced Marik to give him genmods that heightened his senses, which had put him a leg up on all his peer survivalists out there as far as field craft was concerned. Now he wondered what else was in store.
“However, after I share this secret with you,” Alexander said as looked into the back seat where Wolfman sat, “if you go work for anyone else, I’ll have to splice your memory.”
Wolf knew about memory splicing, it’s what the Solkin did to anyone who had seen details of advanced technology they weren’t supposed to have. Just owning splicing tech was considered grounds for assassination by the Solkin kill teams.
Whatever the colonel was about to tell him was bound to be good…
“Boss, you know I be loyal,” Wolf said meekly.
Alexander smiled. “Very well. Wolf, we’re going to go meet a Free Solkin contact of ours. He’s bringing us a new Lieutenant Pete Flanagan, a fresh-grown version imprinted with Flanagan’s memories up to the point where we got off the ship at Taysom Island several days ago.”
Wolf’s mouth opened in wonder. When he finally spoke, it was with a subtle intensity. “Boss, you mean he be a clone?” The implication was clear; Marik had a highly illegal technology that allowed him to clone his people—a kind of immortality that all humans knew the Solkin kept out of their reach.
“Yes, you could call him a clone,” Alexander said, “though I think the specialists are already taking to calling him Re-Pete.”
Captain Washington, in the driver’s seat, snorted in laughter. “RePete, sir?” she asked incredulously.
“You know you’ve finally arrived once you have a nick-name, I guess,” Alexander said.
“I don’t have one, sir,” the rather straight-laced Captain Washington replied.
Before Alexander could reply, a large invisible fast-moving object flew directly over their truck from behind, causing Specialist Krrrz to drop down from the gunner’s hatch, squatting on his four legs and waving about his antennae while chittering.
“Look’s like our friend is here,” Alexander said.
Within moments the survey truck broke out of the underbrush into a large meadow where an exotic ship had just landed, the bottom of the ship slowly appearing in a flurry of digital squares, though the top of the ship remained invisible. The entire body of the vessel was shaped like a flattened teardrop, with gravity-drive engines and short wings poking out on either side, while anti-grav strips formed exotic patterns near the front and rear of the craft. The mercurial skin of the vessel swirled in a shimmering silver that only advanced shielding could produce. For even the most uninitiated human in the Solkin Dominion its look was unmistakable; this was a solkin ship—but not all solkin served the Master Race’s will.
The survey truck pulled up within a few yards of the vessel and all four occupants got out and walked up to where the ramp was descending from the ship to meet them.
“Mister Wolf,” Colonel Alexander said as a being that was obviously Solkin walked down the ramp toward them, “Meet our friend, Jaxin Fae Rellis of the Free Solkin Faction ‘The Swords of Dawn’.”
The tall Solkin had long, blond hair with deep green eyes. Other than his pointed ears and standardized height and weight, he could have passed for human. There was an air of intensity and mysticism about him, however, that could only come from some sort of psychic emanations, though his strange clothes and the sundry jewels that adorned him certainly added to the effect.
“Marshal,” the solkin said as he came forward, grasping Colonel Alexander by both shoulders. “I trust you are well, my young friend?”
“Yes, Jaxin, I am. How grows your faction?” Alexander asked.
“Well!” the solkin said enthusiastically, “though there’s still much work to be done if we are to ever overthrow my puppet brethren and their silly ‘Dominion’. But, look, I have something for you that you’ve been waiting for.”
Coming down the ramp was none other than Lieutenant Pete Flanagan, looking none the worse for wear and wearing identical clothes to what he was wearing when the group arrived on planet several days before. Jack Wolf caught his breath, the memories of his still, dead body spiraling off in the mortally wounded jetcar flashing through his consciousness.
“Welcome back, Lieutenant,” Colonel Alexander greeted the young man.
“Thank you, sir,” Flanagan said, his characteristic smirk gone for the moment. “I heard that I missed some of the excitement,” he said, and the smirk was suddenly back.
Alexander smiled, “You could say that, Pete.”
“You mean RePete, sir,” Captain Washington said. Everyone just looked at her, then after the initial shock of hearing Captain Washington tell a joke passed, everyone broke out in laughter.
* * *
The trip back to the Mon-Jikkik clan didn’t take very long. Jaxin Fae Rellis had brought two heavy
quadcopters with him, and strangely enough Lieutenant Flanagan deferred to Mister Wolf and Specialist Krrrz, allowing them to fly back to the Mon-Jikkik clan instead of himself. He said he wanted to find out what had happened since they had landed on planet, which was the last memory their Free Solkin friend had been able to restore to his new body.
While they did talk along the way, ‘RePete’ as both Washington and Alexander now called Lieutenant Flanagan, ended up half convinced that he had gotten the group in trouble with the local solkin authorities while at the same time getting caught up in some scandal involving a local female politician. What made Colonel Alexander’s bluff even more convincing was that Captain Washington went along with it—until she just couldn’t keep a straight face any longer.
Fortunately, Flanagan had always had a good sense of humor, but as he drove along and the laughter subsided, he grew serious.
“What’s wrong, son?” Alexander asked the much younger man. “You look like you’re out of sorts.”
“I guess you could say that,” Flanagan said. “Ever since I came back, I just can’t shake the fact that I died.”
“Well, son, you’ll get used to it,” Alexander said.
The young lieutenant looked at him strangely. “Have you ever died, sir?” he asked.
Alexander grimaced and thought for a moment before answering. “You remember your lessons on the bug wars back in school, right?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Remember hearing about the massacre on Shattersphere?”
“Yes, sir, an entire legion of yazri was slaughtered, with their human officers,” Flanagan answered.
“Well, that was my legion,” Colonel Alexander said. “I don’t remember the last few desperate days when they were chasing us down in the mountains. The solkin had already taken the revival machines off planet and all our memories with them. That was the first time, but it wasn’t the last. And I’d imagine there will be more,” he said with the grim look of a veteran.
‘RePete’ nodded in his mutual understanding, an unexpected connection growing between the two warriors. He sat up a little straighter. “Then RePete it is,” he said, an unexpected smile on his face as he owned his new nickname.
Colonel Alexander smiled along with him.
* * *
The celebration of a new clan lord that night was a grand affair. All the great families and sub-clans of the Mon-Jikkik were present, dancing, chanting, and throwing the life-sticks to determine how the destinies had been affected. All the young warriors writhed about, while above the ruckus the older warriors and clan lords of the sub-clans counseled together in the high place with the new over-clan lord. For some time all the talk was of war with Principay for the evil they had supported among them.
Colonel Alexander sat among the warriors, the leaders of the various clans and great families, for Lord Tan-Jik the new over-clan lord had asked him to come and had honored him by making him a tree-lord among the Mon-Jikkik. Alexander had graciously accepted the honor, of course, and sat thinking about what was to come. But, when the matter of who should be asked to serve as hunt master came up, he was quickly brought out of his thoughts.
With dignity and reverence, Stey-Jik, who had been sitting quietly next to Alexander, stood as quickly as his aged limbs would allow. As he did so the many honor rings that pierced the edges of his wings announced his movements and the room quieted, for being such a decorated warrior and the father of the over-clan lord brought with it great respect.
“My brothers,” Stey-Jik started, leaning on his old spear. “I was once a great warrior, like all of you!” he said, waving his other hand to encompass the whole room. “I threw down our enemies, and earned this ring in an honor fight for my clan lord,” he said, pointing to a ring of gold that sat among the many rings that pierced the edges of his two wings. “Always I have served my people, and when I go to the ancestors, I will continue to watch over you, my brothers.”
Around the room were murmurs of approval.
“Thirty-three years ago I was chosen to serve my people by going to the bug wars,” the old warrior continued. “That is where I met this human,” he said, pointing down at Colonel Alexander. “In the time we served together, Mar-Shal Mon-Jikkik proved himself a great warrior, and I can say that twice he saved my life, and the lives of our entire hunt. He sees much that others do not see, and he is a wise warrior, bringing death to his enemies while protecting the lives of his warriors. He served as hunt master in those days gone by. By the life-magic of the star people he is renewed, and by the power of the ancestors he was brought here for such a time as this. I call for Mar-Shal Mon-Jikkik to serve our over-clan as hunt master in the coming battles against Principay.”
Lord Tan-Jik, the over-clan lord, waited some time before he stood next. “Well you speak, my father. If there is no dissention, then so let it be,” he said simply, waiting for any to speak against the human.
None did.
“Hunt master,” Lord Tan-Jik beckoned to Alexander after a few moments. “Stand and tell us how we should hunt the snake of Principay.”
Alexander stood tall and straight. With a stern look on his face he looked about at so many hardened warriors.
“My brothers,” he started, “I am honored to draw blades with you against our common foe, and I would lead you against him even this night, but Titus Brutian is a tricky foe, full of treachery and dishonorable ways. His defenses are like a carefully woven trap. Because of this, I propose that my tree-hold of warriors,” he said, referring to his company, “be given time to find the ways around these traps, so that we do not waste the lives of our brave warriors.”
A murmur of approval came from the large circle of warriors.
“We will start by finding their goings and comings, their outposts and their guard routes, their strong points and their weak points,” Alexander continued. “And we shall go to Far Point and ask them to join our great hunt.”
Murmurs of surprise came at the thought of joining the hunt with the forces of the human colony of Far Point. None contested the thought, however, for it was unexpected wisdom.
“Already the colony of Terra Alta knows that they must also join our great hunt and fight alongside us and Far Point if we are to overcome the powerful evil of Principay,” Alexander said, looking about the circle of warriors with the stern face of one who is accustomed to asking others to face death with him.
This was much for the group of simple yazri warriors to consider. The power of the hunt they understood, but the complexity of integrating two human colonies with advanced technologies along with their hunt into one great hunt was more than anyone here could understand.
Anyone, that is, except for the old warrior Stey-Jik and his veteran friends, all of whom had served among the legions in the bug wars so many years in the past. As the other warriors talked excitedly among each other, lack of understanding and confusion evident in their faces, Stey-Jik nodded his understanding and broke through the noise, the younger warriors falling silent out of respect for the old warrior who stood among his ancient companions.
“Well you speak, Mar-Shal” Stey-Jik called out as the noise began to subside. “Now I see the true wisdom in asking you to lead this hunt, unexpected as it was, for none here would have thought to bring the human colonies into this battle. Truly, they would not have listened to us, but I see now that the ancestors have sent you among us so that you might gather us all, yazri and human alike, to the great day of battle.”
“And that is what I intend to do,” Alexander said.
* Art by Sam Jeffers *
The Quadcopter Chase
Jim Ryker and the Solkin Judge
Ya-da-na’s three aspects lifting the crate
Alyssa and Rianna
Ya-da-na firing at the pack raptors
Colonel Alexander and the High Justicar
Fight in the Ravine
Chapter Fifteen
Splicing memories isn’t completely unobtrusive,
and unbeknownst to the rest of the group Doctor Sandra Pastore’s reaction to the splicing added another dimension to her already unstable personality; she was now highly paranoid.
Captain Shannon Washington had unofficially watched over the erratic doctor since the splicing, but she had quickly figured out that that wasn’t going to be enough when, with a wild look in her eye, Doc Pastore fled the cabin they were all staying in.
Sergeant Thompson got the nod from Captain Washington and followed the flash of long, blond hair as the doctor ran out the door. But for all their concern, Thompson found her tending to the three women from Jones’ harem that were still unclaimed.
After a few minutes, with a grunt the large black man headed back to the cabin to continue cleaning weapons, never noticing that Doc Pastore had gathered all her equipment and stashed it outside the cabin near the quadcopters. In fact, it wasn’t until one of the heavy quads lifted off that anyone took notice of what Doc Pastore was doing.
Running out to the compound of the visitors’ quarters, Captain Washington and Sergeant Thompson were both quite surprised to see one of the heavy quadcopters lifting erratically into the air, its four rotors tussling the air about as Doc Pastore unsteadily guided the vehicle awkwardly up above the trees. Behind the doctor, Maudry and the other two women all held on for their lives.
“Colonel Alexander,” Shannon Washington called into her linker as she and Sergeant Thompson ran to the other quadcopter, “Doc Pastore is stealing one of the heavy quads. She’s approaching flight layer one. Request permission to pursue.”
