D'mok Revival: The Nukari Invasion Anthology

by Michael Zummo

  “Reporting for our scheduled meeting, Admiral,” Kajlit’ga said in her most formal tone.

  She stared with wonder at the nameplate on the door, which read “Admiral’s Ready Room.” Someday, and soon, it would be hers. She tingled at recalling her rapid ascension to power, all thanks to her beasts. But she was no fool. Along with her rise came many enemies, even among her kind.

  Glancing casually across the command deck she looked for any evidence of dissention, any shred of malcontent. Finding none, she smirked again. Not one dared to look up, much less at her.

  Of course, the Gizel beasts most likely contributed to that. She recalled when they first emerged from the artificial womb. Even she felt some initial intimidation. Her mother frequently preached, “Once you know the right buttons to push, you can tame anything—man or beast.”

  It was something Kajlit’ga now took wicked pleasure in doing. Looking over her demonically beautiful creations, a sense of power filled her. Now tamed, they obediently executed her every command: which reminded her of another who followed her every desire.

  “Come,” the admiral said, deadpan, as the doors opened. She sauntered inside, leaving the beasts to stand guard.

  A birdlike woman with pearlescent feathers stood quietly by the window, head bowed, eyes downcast. The admiral sat quietly behind his desk, staring stoically through thick-paned windows into space. Freight ships trailing cargo zipped madly by. In the distance, construction continued on a mighty ring-shaped structure.

  Kajlit’ga paused, taking in the impressive view. Though beyond her comprehension, the technological marvels of her people amazed her. Psychology and genetics were her forte, but sights like this piqued her interest in the finer details of astrophysics and contemporary computing technologies.

  Looking back to her latest toy, she wondered if someone like herself would someday usurp her power, as she had done his.

  “Admiral,” she said, along with a mocking dip of reverence.

  When he didn’t respond she looked to the bird-woman standing quietly beside him.

  “Still have him in his happy place?” she sneered.

  “Yes Master Kajlit’ga,” the bird-woman replied with reverence, eyes still downcast.

  “And his mind—quiet?” Kajlit’ga said coolly.

  “Finally. He has offered little resistance today.”

  “Stodgy old codger, far more tenacious than I expected,” Kajlit’ga said. “Still, nothing that you can’t manage?”

  The bird-woman nodded, still not looking up.

  “Good,” Kajlit’ga said, sitting on the sofa across from the admiral’s desk. “Now, for today’s business.”

  She pulled out a tablet-shaped device, cleared her throat, then spoke with authority. “Log: reflect the following conversation with Admiral Laduk’na.”

  A list of topics and supporting data scrawled across the screen.

  “Field operations continue to encounter resistance. De’Genico Omura on Argosy has ordered a complete withdrawal. It appears Commander Whemel has lost control of the situation. A trend of failures for him, which I wholly anticipated. Reinforcements are currently en route to remedy the situation. Side reports confirm Rhysus Mencari was sighted on the world during the latest ordeal.”

  The display updated with the profile of her nemesis. Even with abilities like her beasts, how this Human achieved such success escaped her.

  “He continues to complicate our operations. Had Whemel been informed of our interest in Mencari, he could have taken steps to capture him. Information has been relayed to all field commanders. If this opportunity arises again, we will be ready.”

  Though, Mencari wasn’t the only Human with abilities.

  “In addition, the so-called Nurealian terrorists that attacked our minor installations and tested my beast forces turned out to be Humans, like Mencari, but in disguise.”

  She called up another profile, of a prisoner formerly in their care. He had light green skin partially covered with large brown scales, and square, hazel pupils. The short, crew-cut hair reminded her of something Nukari boys wore before coming of age. His whole appearance was a ruse, of course. Their medical tests confirmed it.

  “We captured a Nurealian named Anrik, who shared the super-abilities of my beasts. We were able to interrogate him and gain substantial insight into the Humans’ Coalition.”

  She felt deep wrinkles of disgust across her face as she reviewed the details of Anrik’s escape. “His comrades, along with Mencari’s forces, freed him. Though my beast teams sustained heavy losses, the battle data has already been incorporated in my training regiments. Meanwhile, the war tribunal is also working on how best to leverage the information learned from Anrik.”

  Anticipating her need, the tablet displayed a dark world covered in purple oceans, and mighty landmasses covered in patches of brown and black. Surrounded in a field of junk, thick rings of space debris orbited the planet. Information spiraled off the image, presenting key data and status updates.

  “It appears our field commanders are attempting to draw Rhysus Mencari out. They’ve entered the second stage of their plan on the Nexus world of Ruul. We will see what fruit their efforts bear. If their former efforts are any indication, it will be a miserable failure.”

  She took a deep breath, and cleared her mind of the bumbling fools within her ranks. They would be the first to go when her ascension into power was complete.

  “If significant resistance continues, the war tribunal prescribed a combined tactical assault using our mercenary allies, our armada, and my beast armies. It’s their belief such operations will adequately throw our adversaries into the chaos needed to exert our full control. I will proactively begin preparations in the event this direction is need. Do you sanction this course of action, Admiral?”

  When he didn’t respond, she glared at the bird-woman, who, in turn, gazed with piercing eyes at the admiral. He replied flatly, “I concur.”

  With a smile, Kajlit’ga continued. “Very well—Admiral. Despite our challenges, the greater majority of our operations continue unfettered. We’ve made significant progress securing key worlds such as Keros, along with critical natural resources.”

  Her display updated again, with data concerning the construction project. The images captured were a sad representation of the architectural beauty outside the window.

  “The gateway to homespace is on schedule. After the construction phase is completed, its dual reactors will be brought online, and a testing phase begun. A transmission from homeworld reports the Leviathan and forty supercarriers are preparing for the transfer here. In the meantime, our existing forces continue drills in the Heran Cluster, awaiting further orders.”

  A silvery-blue emblem shaped like two interlocking stars with the Nukari emblem etched in the middle appeared on her screen.

  “One final issue to address, Admiral,” she said with growing anticipation. “I’m—honored—that you have recommended me for promotion to vice admiral of the fleet.”

  A tickling fluttered in her chest. Nothing seemed beyond her reach. Once she was vice admiral, if anything tragic befell their glorious leader she would have unadulterated authority over the entire operation. Not that she didn’t have it already. Her authority just lacked official recognition.

  “I accept the responsibilities, and pledge myself to the advance of our people and our cause.”

  “You’re a fine example of a Nukari,” the admiral said, surprising her, then he added, “I’m proud to serve with the finest we have.”

  A burning filled Kajlit’ga. Was that mockery from her minion, or did the bird-woman intend to put on a show for the record? Kajlit’ga certainly didn’t command that the admiral say such a thing.

  “Thank—” she stuttered. “Thank you, Admiral. I’m proud to learn—from your example.”

  CHAPTER 1:

  The Pocket World

  Rhysus Mencari floated beside his ship alone, stranded in space. His athletic body shimmered wit
h a golden light, a manifestation of his superhuman D’mok abilities that protected him from a swift and icy death.

  The darkened vessel rolled lifeless, unhurriedly turning like a spinner at the end of a fishing lure, tethered in place by an invisible force. His inspection revealed no visible damage. Still, nothing on the ship worked. Even its powerful AI, known as Mini-T, had been rendered useless.

  He stared at the purple gash in space a dozen meters away, the very rift that had sucked his ship’s energy dry. The wide fissure’s gleam was ominous. Mini-T had warned of the phenomenon moments before she zapped out.

  Through the opening Mencari saw a planet, one that hadn’t been there when looking around or behind it. Clearly the rift was a portal to another area of space, but where?

  With few options, driven by curiosity, he abandoned the useless craft. Summoning a burst of his power, he flew in a streak of light toward the rift. The recalled voice of his alien mentor, the ancient D’mok Warrior named Osuto, warned of his folly.

  Don’t be brash. The team should investigate this.

  The words pricked at his conscience. But who knew the range of the rift’s energy-draining effect? Who else might become trapped if they drew near?

  No, he’d look into this first, and find a way to call for help—if needed—later. He was mastering his abilities more every day. He felt certain that no matter what trouble he faced, he’d be able to get out of it.

  He could have easily taken other members of his team on this mission back to the Human Coalition. Given the unpleasant nature of this trip, his first back since he was dumped off at a derelict mining station in deep space with Osuto, his team’s moral support might have been nice.

  However, this trip wasn’t a joyride. His own race had lied to him about their knowledge of their nemesis, the Nukari. Worse still, they hid the use of his own genetics to infuse D’mok powers into other Humans. Anrik and his team were the result. He deserved answers and he intended to get them.

  He’d worried that if he brought his teammates, their presence would strain an already tenuous situation. So he opted to go by himself.

  That wasn’t the only reason. There was a blissful peace in isolating one’s self. After the initial Nukari attack, from the moment he awoke, his life was no longer his own. This trip was the first time he’d been able to step away from being Rhysus Mencari, D’mok Warrior. Instead, he could just be a man returning home.

  Except that, for the moment, he was marooned.

  Reaching the rift, he punched through a membrane of static energy. The hair on his body tingled. Around him, thick, milk-colored swirls of energy created walls within the phenomenon, which stretched out for yards.

  Pushing through to the other side, he looked about. The whole area appeared encased inside a bubble of the same milky-white hue as the walls of the rift. He’d expected a new area of space; instead, this appeared more of a pocket within space. He’d never seen anything like it.

  The planet he noticed before was close now, and was far more unusual than it initially appeared. High, white-peaked mountains sprawled across its many continents, along with expansive swaths of oranges and yellows, all divided by deep-pink oceans.

  A handful of moons made slow orbits. The largest, twice the size of the others, piqued his interest. Tribal-like patterns of throbbing white energy wrapped around it. No, not a natural phenomena.

  Aside from the moons, the planet’s airspace appeared bereft of activity. There were no ships, no satellites in orbit. None that he could make out, anyway. Could this be another abandoned world? He recalled De’Vahl in the Janux Nebula, the homeworld to Cerna, his newest teammate. Despite incredible abilities, infighting led to a devastating civil war on that planet. Even with her energy-channeling abilities, the amazonian warrior queen wasn’t able to save her people from the Dark Lord’s coup d’état. Their summoning of the monstrous cosmic entity called Sabereth left her planet ravaged, empty of life. When Mencari freed her from her forced slumber within an ancient temple, Cerna’s world had already been dead for hundreds of years.

  A twinkling drew his eyes back toward his entrance. The rift appeared fluid now, its shape in constant change. Then, it collapsed. Before he could react, it was gone, sealed over. He floated back and inspected where the rift once was. With care, he touched the milky wall. It felt flexible, almost velvety, yet strong. Did the length of the rift tunnel reveal the thickness of the bubble? He didn’t want to try to blast his way back through. Maybe a better solution would be found on the planet or its moons. He wanted to do some exploring anyway.

  Turning, he flew toward the largest moon. Drawing near he made out stony structures, structures that skirted the tribal patterns of light. Warmth filled him as he descended, as though power radiated out from not just the patterns, but the moon itself. No sooner had he touched down, a blast yards away sent a plume of moon dust floating up.

  “Identify yourself!” a voice bellowed.

  A man floated fifty meters away, donned in an ornate uniform of white with a silver sash. The man radiated a golden glow. Mencari stared, speechless. The world wasn’t abandoned. In fact, another with abilities like his own hovered directly before him.

  “My name is Rhysus Mencari—”

  “Not your name. Show your Proxima ID.”

  “What is that?” Mencari said.

  The man’s face pruned in anger. “Oh, a wise guy?” Holding up his hand, he exposed his wrist and revealed a pattern similar to a barcode. “Show your wrist—slowly.”

  Mencari eased his hands up and revealed his unmarked wrist.

  “The other one then.”

  Mencari revealed his other unmarked appendage.

  “No Proxima?”

  “I’m not from your world,” Mencari said.

  The man leaned into a device formerly hidden on his shoulder. “You getting this?”

  “Monitoring,” an unflappable voice returned. “Await further direction.”

  Mencari grew unnerved when three more guards joined the first. Each wore a similar white uniform with silver sash.

  “I’ve never seen anyone without a Proxima,” the original guard said to them.

  A voice rang through the first guard’s communicator. “You are not to talk to the suspect. A carrier has been dispatched from High Dome, and will take him into custody.”

  “High Dome?” the first guard said, with a befuddled glance at the other guards. “If they’re sending someone—”

  “Once the suspect is delivered, you are to return for a debriefing,” the voice commanded.

  A bolt of rainbow light streaked from the planet’s surface toward them. As it drew near, Mencari realized it contained a cluster of people. They traveled in a tight formation, each radiating a different-colored glow. They wore a similar white uniform to the first guard’s, except with an additional half-cape, and a colored sash that matched their corresponding radiance.

  What did I get myself into?

  He felt the burn of his own arrogance, mortified by the overconfidence in his superhuman abilities. He expected to find worlds with potentially hostile beings, but not a world with those with abilities as advanced, perhaps more so, than his own.

  Coming here on his own was a mistake. Now he needed to survive it.

  “You’re relieved. Report back as ordered,” said a stern High Dome soldier with an emerald sash. The first guard looked back with a dubious expression, then flew off with the other silver-sashed guards. “You will follow us,” the soldier said to Mencari. “Any deviation from the path will be taken as an act of aggression, and will be treated in kind. Am I clear?”

  Mencari nodded and followed as the High Dome guards leaped from the moon’s surface, back toward the planet. They flew fast, faster than he had gone even during the last battle with the Nukari beasts. He strained to keep up.

  “I can’t, I can’t go that fast.”

  The emerald-sashed soldier scoffed, then motioned. The group immediately slowed.

  Hitt
ing the atmosphere was a new experience. Superheated plasma streaked around Mencari’s D’mok shield as they rapidly descended. The heat wasn’t a problem, unlike the swiftly increasing pull of gravity. The situation quickly devolved from moving too fast to trying to slow himself down. He wasn’t sure which was harder. Perhaps sensing his struggle, two soldiers flanked him and took him by the arms. With their assistance he regained control.

  They flew down toward an enormous gray hollow that appeared to be an extinct volcanic crater, in the middle of a vast mountain range. In the surrounding valley sat a massive crystal dome, around which sprawled an expansive park, segmented by long walkways lined with gleaming, humanoid statues. At the far end, a giant coliseum towered above a blanket of exotic vegetation. Thick stalks bloomed into a twisted mass of long, yellow, or orange fern-like tentacles, which draped down and blew in the wind. Other smaller, unremarkable buildings pocketed the remaining land.

  The group dropped over the crystal dome. High Dome, he assumed. A great weight overcame him moments before their descent stopped. The aliens’ ability to control free flight within a planet’s gravity was impressive, a feat he doubted he could do alone.

  Oversized doors burst open from the terrace atop the dome. A flood of guards wearing bronze sashes spilled out, accompanied by four women with long, silvery locks in tight braids. Strands of crystal woven into their hair created shimmering drapes around each one’s neck and refracted light into rainbow colors around them. Their pale skin appeared ghostly against tight black outfits. He noted their eerily similar features. Perhaps all four were sisters? Something about the intensity of their looks, the sternness of their gazes, gave the impression they were not to be trifled with. Then he noticed their fierce pink eyes: eyes that never blinked. His stomach knotted.

  The color-sashed guards parted, making way for the four women. They didn’t just move, they leaped out of the way. Only the emerald-sashed guard stood his ground.