The Catherine Kimbridge Chronicles #8, Replicants

by Andrew Beery

  “As you can see from the two maps of our own Milky Way, the Ashtoreth have a significant presence in our own galaxy. Unfortunately, based on the third map, they also have a significant presence in our nearest local group neighbor–the galaxy called Andromeda. Based on the size of the presence in each of these galaxies it seems reasonable that the Ashtoreth originated in Andromeda and subsequently migrated here.”

  “So they have an empire that spans a small part of two separate galaxies,” Jason said. “Does anybody else see something odd in all of this?”

  “Exactly,” Harry said. “We found the local concentration based on the star maps in the Agur database. The Recluse captured an Ashtoreth supply transport under the guise of our normal pirate activities. While talking with the captain, a very helpful reptilian guy… bad breath and bad teeth, but a helpful guy… we learned that the Ashtoreth have only been in this Galaxy for about three hundred years and some odd change. Did I mention the teeth?”

  Honey nodded and Harry continued. “My crew has started calling them Gators for obvious reasons… those teeth are impressive… they smell bad… but very impressive.”

  Cat said, “So you think they got trapped here by the Great Disruption… when we merged parallel universes and changed the way hyperfield dynamics work?”

  Harry shook his head. “I can see why you would think that… but I don’t believe it to be the case Admiral. The simple truth is… they have conquered too many worlds in the Milky Way in the three centuries they’ve been here. If their jump technology was as limited as the GCP’s in the beginning, they would have had a hard time reaching many of the star systems they have subjugated. My guess is they must have had access to unrestricted hyperjump technology from the very beginning.

  “No, I think they ran into something in Andromeda that caused them to seek their fortunes elsewhere. Perhaps they had taken over so many planets that the neighbors got wise to them and started mounting a stiff resistance.

  “Whatever the reason, they came here because we were the closest galaxy of any size. I suspect they stayed because their hyperfield technology was superior to ours. Their scientists had learned how to do unrestricted hyperfield jumps while ours had not. They had an advantage here…”

  “And they were unknown here,” Cat finished. “Like a wolf among sheep who have never seen a wolf.”

  “So now we know where they came from and why they are here. Is there anything your friend with the bad teeth could tell you that might help us fight them?” Sherry Melbourne asked impatiently.

  “It so happens,” Harry answered, “he did. It seems the Ashtoreth are not all that well liked by the people they have enslaved. A number of planets were flagged in the transports navigational database as potential hot spots. Captain Lojac –that would be the guy with the bad teeth—said that some of them are nearly in a state of active revolt… and get this… the reason is some prince got his tail handed to him in a bucket in a failed battle on one of the fringe worlds.”

  “Nothing like failure to breed unrest,” Cat thought out loud. “Do you have a list of the planets that might be willing to test their yokes?” Cat asked.

  “The transport’s database was limited to worlds he traveled but it did contain four planets that were trouble spots: Bashar, Caid, Burseg, and Levenbrech.”

  “So what’s our plan Admiral? Do we go in and help the insurgents?” Ruck asked.

  “The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Captain Takei said quietly.

  Cat looked over the table at Lieutenant Commander Stone. “AG, your boys and gals up for a little field trip?”

  His face splitting grin was all the answer she needed. “As soon as the Yorktown gets back from its mission we are going to mount an offensive.”

  Stone’s grin only widened.

  ***

  Manu wiped the Saba tree sap from his eyes. The sap was sweet but it was also a mild irritant and would sting after a bit. The overseer waved his shock stick threateningly. Manu hoisted the basket of the Saba leaves onto his head. The leaves would be fermented into a stout liquor and sold for a tremendous profit. Not that Manu would see any of that profit. Slaves worked for the privilege of room and board… and if they were very lucky, the right to procreate so as to bring more slaves into the world.

  Manu was bitter. His people still had memories of when they were free. His brother had three children. They had never known freedom. Only the elders had such memories. What was to become of the dream his people had? The dream of living in a world where no master… and no slave... existed. What happened when the last of the old ones died?

  Manu was bitter… but Manu had hope! Stories were spreading that the Masters had suffered a major defeat in another star system… that the Ashtoreth were not all powerful! Such stories were the manna of heaven.

  Already he and several of his closest allies had started engaging in random acts of wanton destruction. They resisted the Masters in little ways. Accidents that occurred just a little more frequently. A sawfly infestation in the fields; wild bear-hogs gorging themselves in the Master’s granary; a barn fire during a lightning storm… things that could not be traced back to his people.

  In their latest adventure they had burned the wagons that carried the finished liquor to the spaceport. The Masters had forced their slaves to carry the barrels on their backs but even that had been worth it for there was simply no way for the slaves to carry enough barrels to keep up with the contracted delivery schedule. The Masters were furious! They took their fury out on their slaves.

  For Manu this meant a twenty three hour work day with only six hours allotted for sleep. It was a grueling pace, even for a people as hearty as the Basharites. Manu took comfort in the knowledge that the discomfort he was facing was but a reflection of what the Masters were feeling. Death came easy to the Ashtoreth and even now the overseer must be feeling the threat of it on his shoulders.

  He must have slowed down a little as he daydreamed of a time when his people would once again be free. He felt the sting of the shock stick on his back. The pain caused him to stumble and drop his basket. The overseer swore and began to beat Manu with the shock stick. He shielded his face and head with his arms because he knew shocks to the head were the easiest way to be killed by the savage devices. The overseer seemed to be in an especially foul mood. The blows continued to rain down on him. His arms were numb and he was not sure how much longer he could protect himself. Just when he though we would most surely die there was a strange metallic popping sound and the abuse stopped. Moments later the overseer crumbled to the ground.

  Chapter 3: Bashar…

  Ben First looked down at the two beings on the ground. The smaller looked to be a bipedal lizard with an alligator shaped head. While it was thickly built and muscular, it stood only about five and a half feet tall. It was an Ashtorethian male.

  The other looked to be a humanoid… a rather large humanoid. He could easily be mistaken for a human of mixed heritage from Western Europe… save for the fact that he was easily seven feet tall and three hundred and fifty pounds of pure, rock-hard, muscle. His skin had a golden tint that might have been a function of working out in the fields or it might have been the natural coloration of his species. Ben was the first operative to attempt to make contact.

  The fully cloaked GCP Yorktown had been in orbit around Bashar VIII for almost a week. In that time they had watched and learned. The eighth planet out from the red giant sun was in the inner most part of the goldilocks zone. There was an abundance of liquid water in the form of two massive oceans. About forty percent to the planet’s surface was arable land. While there were signs that the planet had once hosted a thriving technological base, as evidenced by now abandoned mega-cities, the only technology in use today seemed to be in the hands of the Ashtoreth aggressors.

  The large man, whose name Ben knew from his covert observations, was Manu Yreeb, glanced around when the Ashtorethian fell. His expression was that of both fear and confusion. His tormentor was
unconscious on the ground but there was no visible reason for it.

  Ben suddenly remembered that his Mark 10 Stark suit was still in camo mode. He toggled a control and he appeared to materialize out of thin air. The Basharite scampered back on all fours and assumed a defensive position with his hands in front of him.

  “Easy big guy,” Ben said in his language. “I’m here to help.”

  “Help?” Manu whispered.

  “That’s right,” said Ben while kneeling on one knee. “My name is Ben First. I’m an officer in the Galactic Coalition of Planets. My ship, the Yorktown, is hiding in orbit above this planet.”

  “Are you the ones the Elders speak of? The ones who defeated the Masters in an alien star system?”

  Ben smiled. “Yeah we kicked their scale-covered butts. We were hoping you might want to help us do it again.”

  ***

  Ken Kirkland met his First Officer in the shuttle bay of the GCP Yorktown. This was a dangerous time for the Yorktown. Opening the exterior doors to the Yorktown’s shuttle bay, to allow the shuttle to enter and land, also had the potential to allow stray radiation out – potentially giving their presence and position away.

  Therefore Ken ordered the doors remain closed until passive sensors could sweep the surrounding area thoroughly. Both the shuttle and the Yorktown were operating under cloak. Special hyperfield emitters rerouted energy emissions that struck the ship to the opposite side of the vessel with a minimal amount of distortion. They were still detectable but only if someone was actively scanning their specific location for picosecond distortions in the speed of light.

  The Yorktown was currently hovering in a Lagrange point –in this case the stable position between Bashar and its largest moon Cyra. Because the position was a well in the local gravitational field, the Yorktown could shut down most of her power systems and stay in place. Super capacitors in main engineering stored enough energy to power the cloaking field and basic ship’s operation. In this silent-running mode the Yorktown was exceedingly difficult to detect.

  Magnetic latches clamped the shuttle to the Yorktown’s deck platting. Moments later the side hatch cycled open and his D’lralu First Officer stepped down the short ramp. Behind him was the largest man Ken had ever seen.

  From a distance he could have been any member of his crew except that he dwarfed Ken’s six foot tall First Officer. The man’s skin was tinted lightly yellow and he had greenish hazel eyes. His close-cropped hair was a light blond color that bordered on white. He wore a standard ship’s suit which Ken assumed Ben had had the shuttle’s fabricator manufacture to the bigger man’s specifications.

  Ben saluted his Captain. “Permission to come aboard Sir.”

  Ken returned the salute. “Wouldn’t be home without you Ben. Welcome back.”

  His First Officer turned to their guest and waved him forward. The man was starring at the various craft in the shuttle bay and gave a very human whistle.

  “Captain, allow me to present Manu Yreeb of the Boarmans province.”

  Ken stuck out his hand to shake the bigger man’s hand. Manu looked at it and then up at the Captain. Confusion was written across his face.

  Ben laughed and said, “It’s a greeting. You grab his hand and shake it.”

  A small earbud in the Basharite’s left ear translated Ben’s words in real-time.

  “This will not hurt him?” Manu asked in a deep voice.

  “Not if you do it gently,” Ken answered.

  Manu grabbed the Captain’s hand between his forefinger and thumb and shook his hand side to side.

  “Yeah… we might need to work on that,” Ben said with a grin. “Captain, I’ve explained briefly our mission here and offered Manu a chance to assist us. He has enthusiastically agreed.”

  “Excellent,” Ken said. He pointed to the earbud. “Perhaps a trip to medical would be in order.”

  Manu felt the earbud with his hand. “This ‘procedure’ it will not hurt yes?”

  Ken laughed. “Our doctors are the best. You will not feel a thing.”

  “And these doctors… they will not kill me, yes?”

  Ben stepped in… “It seems that the roles of doctors amongst the Ashtoreth is somewhat different then our view of the profession. For the Ashtoreth an issue requiring a visit to the doctor is often handled with euthanasia. As the Basharites are not allowed access to replicant technologies this becomes something of a concern for them.”

  ***

  Manu awoke quickly but remained absolutely still on the bio-bed Doctor Kevorkian had instructed him to lay back on. The bed was oddly shaped. He had been told that it was designed for ‘Hoppers’ which was a race of beings he was unfamiliar with. That said, it was the biggest bio-bed in the facility and as such, the only one big enough for him.

  “Can you understand me?” The doctor asked.

  Manu gave a thumbs up which was something he had seen the doctor do earlier.

  Doctor Kevorkian smiled. “Well that means your internal commlinks are working just fine. I must admit you are somewhat of a mystery to me.”

  “Why is that doctor?” The large man asked as he sat up at the physician’s direction.

  “Your physiology and genetics would imply a human ancestry. There is some notable genetic shift from baseline human but it’s less than three tenths of a percent. There is a very strong possibility that with a little help, your people and mine could produce viable offspring. The biggest hindrance is a missing sequence in your mitochondrial DNA. To be honest. I don’t know how your people reproduce with each other given this apparent defect.”

  Manu shook his head. “I think this thing you have done to me is working but many of the words you are using mean nothing to me.”

  “Let me ask you Manu, how much schooling have you had?”

  “Education is mandated by the Masters. We learn how many barrels can be safely loaded on a wagon. We learn the proper times to sow and harvest Saba. The most favored of our people are taught how to brew the liquor from the leaves.”

  The older doctor shook his head. “How about reading and writing? How about basic sciences and mathematics?”

  “These things are forbidden to us.”

  Doctor Kevorkian sighed and toggled his commlink. “Captain, do you have a moment to discuss a situation?”

  ***

  When Manu awoke for the second time his world had quite literally changed. As he looked about the medical bay his eyes were glazed in wonderment… not at the multitude of mysterious lights and unfathomable devices that were present everywhere on the modern spaceship but at the fact that he now knew what these various items were and how to use them.

  “How are you feeling young man?”

  Manu turned to face the voice. Captain Ken Kirkland, First Officer Ben First and Doctor James Kevorkian stood a few feet away. The Captain had spoken.

  “I’m fine sir,” he said respectfully. “The engrams seem to have been assimilated with only a modicum of discomfort. Doctor, a mild analgesic might be in order.”

  Manu swung his legs over the side of the bed.

  Doctor Kevorkian pressed a hypospray against the side of his arm.

  “If I may, what are you administering?”

  “Given your physiology I’ve decide to play it safe and go with a Meloxicam derivative,” the doctor answered.

  “The minimal effective doze is one milligram per kilogram body mass. Have you adjusted the dosage to accommodate my larger size?”

  Doctor Kevorkian stood back and looked at his patient. “And just who do you think is the doctor?”

  Ben shook his head in amusement. “What engram load did you give him?”

  Kevorkian looked over at the First Officer and pointed at the bio-generator. “It was last set up for Commander Stone so I just filtered out the personal experiences and memories. He is now a fully trained marine with fighter pilot and combat medic additional skills qualifications. I might add, like Commander Stone, he has a genius IQ in the mid 140s.” />
  Manu rubbed his arm where the hypospray was injected. Already he could feel the last vestiges of his headache dissipating.

  “Captain, I appreciate all that you have done for me and I’m eager to push the Ashtoreth off my world. I assume there is a next step. May I ask what it is?”

  Ken Kirkland smiled. “I think it’s time you met Admiral Kimbridge.”

  ***

  Two days later, after the GCP Yorktown had cautiously snuck out of the Bashar star system under minimal thrusters to avoid detection; they were in Hupenstanii space approaching WhimPy-101.

  Manu stood on the bridge and looked out over the first new worlds his people had seen in thousands of years. He knew the WhimPy was essentially a sentient machine but the fact that it was the size of a medium to large moon still boggled the mind. The upper third of the WhimPy was dominated with a transparent dome that housed a seventy square kilometer city that served as a marine training center and billets for the Infinity Brigade.

  He knew that the Galactic Coalition of Planets was also threatened by the Ashtoreth Empire and that the Yorktown taskforce was actually a renegade faction within the GCP that had discovered the threat and were actively fighting against it. Strangely, this put them at odds with the main body of the GCP.

  Admiral Kimbridge, whom he expected to meet shortly, was actively fighting the ongoing corruption and moral decline of the GCP by rooting out its ultimate source… the Ashtoreth Empire. It was ironic that the GCP’s great misfortune turned out to be his people’s salvation.

  Chapter 4: Old Ones…

  Cat Kimbridge had been reading over the reports from the Yorktown. She had to admit, the discoveries they had made in Ashtoreth controlled space were both unsettling and unexpected. There was a human colony on one of the less populated worlds.

  Subsequent analysis of their genome had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that the Basharites where in fact related somehow to the crew of the USC Edmund Fitzgerald which the Yorktown had run into unexpectedly some three billion years in Earth’s distant past.