The Imperialists: The Complete Trilogy

by H. T. Kofruk

  So he and a few hundred of his brothers had managed to escape from the vast prison complex that held the few thousand natural-born Nikruks. The bitter irony was that other Nikruks, born from Renden test tubes, guarded the facility and they often killed their elders. A Nikruk killing a Nikruk. That was something unimaginable before the arrival of the Rendens. Mother would never allow it. Barely three hundred, they were able to fool the mindless, stupid enslaved and hijack a Renden freight vessel. They killed the Renden crew once they were at a good speed in space.

  Renden forces in orbit had luckily been reduced due to another one of their wars with each other. Although they were pursued for a brief while, the Renden fighters soon gave up, knowing that the lack of food, water and air on board would soon finish them off. The Nikruk escapees knew this too. Within a few weeks, the eldest and weakest started to die. To die without Mother’s blood was a mournful, humiliating end. These brave would not be able to pass on their flesh and knowledge. They would not experience the ultimate pleasure of becoming one with Mother.

  But Mother presented them with hope in the form of an abandoned Renden warship. Renden fusion technology gave them infinite energy so the warship could have been floating for years or even decades. Upon boarding the ship they realized what had happened. The crew had brought on board with them a kind of fungus that was lethal to them. A tour of the ship showed stacks of bodies of the first to die in the sick bay. Their bodies were covered with a white furry substance that could now be observed on every Renden on board.

  To the Nikruk, however, the fungus smelled of food. One of the younger ones, blind from hunger and the sweet aroma, scraped the fungus from one of the bodies and gulped it down before anyone could stop him. Everyone stopped to observe if anything happened. But he merely smiled and grabbed more. The others started to do the same. The musky yet sweet taste reminded them of one of their crops they cultivated back home.

  They had now been floating on board that same ship for two years. The fungus was depleted and most of the Renden food was poisonous to them.

  Bin’ja, the destined leader and liberator of the Nikruk and now the eldest of the free, had been sleeping in the captain’s quarters. Sleep was now the only way he could connect with Mother, to feel her warmth and her agony. Since their escape, almost twenty of the oldest had now perished. He knew that his time would not last long. He would have to accept the fate of not being able to speak to his sons, not knowing what becoming one with Mother was like. His flesh would not be transformed into the eggs that would nurture his sons but merely rot and wither away. This bitter fate would not, nonetheless, be for nothing.

  He got up from the floor and drank a glass of purified water. The taste of chemicals almost made him gag again, even though he should have been used to it. He wished he could taste the clear, slightly salty water of his home. He left his quarters and walked brusquely down the corridors of the ship to the cargo area where most of his brothers stayed. There he found Bin’ruk, his only surviving litter-brother.

  “Dreams are plaguing me again, Brother” said Bin’ja after greeting him by rubbing foreheads while clasping hands.

  “You at least still see the visions of Mother in your dreams. It has been too long since I have seen anything.”

  “She is weak. We need to help her regain her strength again. Our race is strong when she is strong.”

  Bin’ruk stared at the floor and didn’t say anything.

  “You think my dreams are merely dreams?” asked Bin’ja.

  Bin’ruk hesitated. “You are the only one to see visions from Mother. None of us have seen anything for many sun-phases, though we still feel her. I know you have been chosen by her, I knew as soon as Father drank her blood. But why would she send you visions and not any of us?”

  Bin’ja started to get frustrated at the same conversation. “Is that what the others are saying? Are they saying that I claim Mother is sending visions just to claim leadership?”

  “You know I don’t doubt you. Though I no longer see Mother’s visions, you and I still share the bond of Father. But the others do not share that and they are tired and angry.”

  “I know. I feel their pain and loss. But what is important to us? Killing Rendens when Mother needs our help?”

  “What we are doing is not just killing Rendens. You saw the moving pictures. There are many more people suffering the same fate as ours. Destroying the Renden filth will benefit the countless souls in the same predicament”

  Bin’ja suddenly couldn’t take it anymore. He used his low-pitch rumbling voice so that all the others could hear his anger. “Do not pretend this is for the salvation of other people. We are doing it for our own vengeance and nothing more. We are going through dangerous territory that may destroy our souls.”

  He got up and decided to go back to his quarters while the others stopped and watched him leave. Bin’ruk shook his head.

  Whether it was Mother’s will or not, he couldn’t quite tell. The Renden ship they occupied was a warship with highly advanced weapons. Those who could read their language explored the ship and found various manuals from which to learn. Not only was this ship equipped with pulse cannons and lasers, but also a vast arsenal of missiles. It seemed that the Renden’s intent of using the Nikruk as soldiers had worked; the Free Nikruk would become soldiers who would show the Rendens what a mistake they had made.

  Chapter 5: Unleashed

  ‘…and every civilization needs a symbolic focal point. In history, this has varied from the Catholic Pope to the giant stone statues on Easter Island. The Chinese Republic desperately lacked this during the intermittent century after the fall of the Communist Party and before the rise of the Empire…’ Chen Xi-liu, , year 2533.

  The door adorned with golden dragon motifs slid slowly open. The powdered head of the eunuch peered through the gap. “Your Highness” he called in a giggling high-pitched voice.

  A small man in his early sixties sat at a beautifully carved jade table shaped like turtle. A young concubine was standing to his side, surveying his jade cup lest it became empty of the pearl jasmine tea. “Enter” he said. Anyone else who dared address the elderly man in such a comical manner would have normally at least received lashing for the insolence. The eunuch was, however, both caretaker and jester and this kind of speech was only tolerated from him while the elderly man found him interesting.

  The eunuch was tall with sloping shoulders and a thick waist. His powdered face contrasted with his dark lips. He slid the door completely open and shuffled in. “The priest has arrived, Your Highness. My dreams tell me he has good news.”

  “Your dreams are no predictions of the future.”

  Covering his giggling with his hand, the eunuch replied “Why, Your Highness, I swear I dreamt of a dragon the night before Prince Xiao was born. Or was it a snake?”

  “Quiet now and help me with my cloak.” The eunuch and the silent concubine held the arms of the magnificent cloak that only the Emperor could wear.

  His yellow silk garment flowed as he walked along the stone path towards his dragon shaped throne. On either side were ten thousand of the black clad, yellow insignia-bearing Imperial Guard, the elite of the Chinese fighting force that were responsible for his protection and that of the capital city region. They stood motionless, in awe of the living god gliding in front of them to the seat of divine power. He was escorted by twenty of his personal bodyguards, or ‘the Shadows’ as they were more popularly known. Picked from among the tens of millions of the Chinese Imperial Forces for their fighting skills as well as their demonstrated loyalty to the god-emperor, the Shadows were all elite special operations veterans used not only for his personal protection but also for assassinations if necessary.

  He reached his throne and sat, clasping the armrest shaped like a dragon claw with his single real hand. A black, metallic hand emerged from the loose sleeve of the other arm to receive the results of the divination ritual from the warrior-priest who, by
bending as low as possible, dared not look the Walking God in the face.

  He read the ancient characters, no longer used among the populace except for documents of extreme importance. After flowing through the hundreds of letters, he nodded in satisfaction. The Pacific Federation and the Atlantic Alliance, his two main rivals, could only fall. They had resisted long enough but they, like the hundreds of alien civilizations that were under his rule, would rightfully come to see him as a god. No, the God.

  Twenty years ago, when he still had both of his hands, he would not have been so motivated to crush them. But then came the war with the Pacific which had resulted in the first full-scale intra-Renden war fought on Earth for a century. He had thought that there would quickly be a peace agreement before things got out of hand which was usually the case. Of course, the agreement would be to their benefit. But once it escalated, the cowardly Pacific Federation in their panic sent their pitiful Phantoms to assassinate him.

  It was summer and he had retired to the summer palace with the empress. He had made divine love to one of his favourite concubines in an outside pavilion by the manmade lake and then fallen asleep. His servants were around him and somewhere in the shadows he knew his bodyguards were vigilantly watching.

  He had to admit that the mere fact that they penetrated his security was impressive. It seemed they had come out of nowhere. But alas, they were subdued by just one of his Shadows who had arrived at the scene a split second late. The Walking God had lost his hand to one of them.

  Two of them were killed on sight but the other one was tortured by the most painful means possible. His nerves were provoked to make the pain sharper and inch by inch, his flesh had been peeled and cut off. Full life support systems were used to keep him alive so his pain would last longer and drugs were constantly pumped into him to prevent him from fainting or going into shock. The wretch had lasted an impressive seventeen days before what was left of him finally died. No information could be pried out of him.

  In his fury, he ordered a bombardment of the Korean Peninsula and the Japanese Isles. The Pacific responded but their fire power couldn’t compare to the full might of the Chinese Imperial Forces. But he knew that the Atlantic Alliance was secretly aiding the Pacific. After all, the Chinese Empire’s closest rival needed a buffer zone to avoid direct contact. If the Chinese pressed too far, the Atlantic would overtly participate and that would be too much, even for China.

  But the incident had deeply engraved in his mind the necessity to completely crush the two and take their outer-space colonies. He couldn’t quite grasp why they resisted so much when the Atlantic’s strength and the Pacific’s technology could be used to forge an era of peace and prosperity with the paternal guidance of the Chinese Emperor. The competition between the four colonial empires was both wasteful and irresponsible.

  The Walking God put his golden dragon seal on the scroll. Colonel Qin, his most trusted Shadow and aide, dropped to a knee to receive the orders. “It is begun” the emperor said softly to the old assassin.

  “Heaven and the Cosmos are with us, Your Highness” was the answer

  “Is your son ready?”

  “He is a Shadow, Your Highness. He is always ready to serve you” said the old Shadow with a bow.

  “If he has half of his father’s abilities, I am sure he will succeed without difficulty.”

  “Your Highness is too kind.” Another bow.

  The emperor stood up and faced the thousands of troops standing at attention. “It is begun!” he declared.

  Ten thousand fists pumped into the air. Ten thousand voices repeated the words “May the Emperor live ten thousand years!”

  The emperor sat down and said softly once more to Colonel Qin “Prepare the aliens.”

  In the far reaches of the Yinhexi which were then uncharted, his subjects had discovered a planet and an intelligent life form like no other. The planet was only slightly larger than Earth and had a similar atmospheric component with higher levels of oxygen. But infra-red mapping of it revealed a vast network of ‘roots’ that ran in the crust of the whole planet. These roots even went so deep as to reach the core where the crust was thin. They surfaced in hundreds of spots around the planet in the form of great trees, almost a mile high.

  Although he rarely left Earth, the emperor had seen many alien life forms in his life. But these trees were something different. The black bark was so tough it felt as if it was made out of thousands of strands of steel cables. The trunks, easily fifty metres in diameter, were made up of hundreds of hollow tubes in which the aliens lived. The vast canopies stretched hundreds of meters and made the trees look like giant pink mushrooms from above. At the base of each tree was a natural slit that secreted purple sap that gathered in a natural basin.

  What was most curious about these trees was the symbiotic relationship they shared with the local intelligent beings who called themselves the Nikruk. The Nikruk harvested the fruit that the trees bore year round and hunted the animals that lived in and around it. In doing so, they killed pests and protected the trees. The evolution of the two life forms had developed to such an extent that now the Nikruk needed the giant plants in order to reproduce. He had seen footage of their Sanja-Tuk ceremonies where a weak, old native would drink the sap and die within minutes. The corpse was laid down at the base of the tree and high-speed playback revealed the changing of the corpse into two to four eggs.

  His forces’ encounter with the Nikruk was a bloody one. Though they possessed little technology, the Nikruk were fiercely territorial and natural fighters. Their size and shape was about the same as a large human but their strength was incredible. Later tests showed that they were at least ten times stronger than the average human and capable of moving much faster. They also seemed to possess precognitive abilities and anticipated attacks and blows before they were even launched. As they grew older, their skin hardened making even many projectiles useless.

  But Renden technology prevailed. The Nikruk especially grew desperate and more disoriented as trees were destroyed. When they were finally subdued, a program was immediately designed to mould these formidable aliens into mighty soldiers worthy of the mercy of the emperor. Trial and error continued and whole populations of synthetically born Nikruk had to be exterminated due to their flaws. But now the final perfected batch was ready. Ten thousand Nikruk soldiers were developed and trained to become the divine death-bringers of the Chinese Empire. These were designed to be even stronger and faster than their predecessors and they all bore the glorious organic insignia of the golden dragon that signified their allegiance to the emperor.

  After their war with the Pacific, he had strictly forbidden any conflicts with his rivals. They obviously thought it was a sign of weakness. But Heaven had now spoken. Now was the time to unleash what he had prepared for twenty years. First the Pacific and Atlantic would be made to see him as the rightful representative of Heaven, a god walking among mortals. Then would be the easier targets, the pitiful Afrikan Republic and the Peace Alliance would fall and then, finally, the unsuspecting Orthodox Empire. The whole universe would be his as was his birth right.

  Chapter 6: Wormhole

  ‘Wormhole technology opens up a horizon of new possibilities, freeing us from toiling on our beloved but small Earth. And no other organization is as well equipped to exploit this opportunity than the Pacific Federation Armed Forces…

  …I declare, on this day, July fifth 2501, the reintroduction of military conscription for the glory of our great super-state.’

  - Analu Vongsa, Fourteenth President of the Pacific Federation, Speech to the Federation, year 2501.

  Her farewell party was full of tears. She saw for the first time tears on her father’s stern face. He could not bear to see his eldest and favourite daughter leave Earth to what he knew was almost certain death. He hated himself for not having the power or ability to pull some strings. But that integrity and down-to-earthness was what Heera loved and respected most. He turned away, showin
g his back on which she had been carried as a child. Her mother was crying so heavily that she worried about her hyperventilating. But she had expected that. Tears from her strong, silent father were something else.

  Heesu, her youngest sister who was still in high school ran towards her and hugged her as did Heemin, her brother. Despite being a strict and sometimes harsh elder sister, she knew that her siblings loved her and would miss her terribly. Her dogs, Limbo and Cracker, also sensed the sadness that filled the room and sat near the doorway, twitching their ears.

  When she had said her final goodbye and finally entered the homely interior of her PTU, she finally let loose and cried. She somehow knew that she would never see her family, her dogs or even Earth again. In forty two minutes, she would reach the docking area for ships going to the wormhole creation station in orbit. She savoured every one of those minutes, staring intently at the pictures of her family.

  Before getting out, she made double sure that there was no sign of her crying. Her jet-black hair was tied into a simple pony tail and her grey suit was impeccably clean and pressed. She carried just a small, fabric suitcase filled with her few possessions, most of which she took just for the emotional attachment. She was the first of the medical team to arrive and was welcomed by a captain who led her to a room where she was to be fitted with an atmospheric suit, one that would give her life support, maintain temperatures and even gravity within the suit close to that of Earth.

  She would receive three months of combat and field medical training before she would wear the Pacific Federation insignia and the rank of first lieutenant. The training centre for this was on a large planet within the Pacific Federation’s territory. The high gravity and thinner air of this planet would make a harsh environment for training and those who made it would come out tougher. Combat soldiers that came out of this centre also underwent medical procedures to make them stronger and faster. Bones were reinforced with biological metal alloy and senses sharpened. Electrical stimulants were also planted in the body and brain to increase durability and dampen fatigue.