D'mok Revival: The Nukari Invasion Anthology

by Michael Zummo

  The closer the four came, the more ill Mencari felt. A sensation wrapped around him like stepping into shadow after standing in the hot summer sun too long. Something felt different—wrong. It wasn’t just the discomfort; he physically felt weaker.

  Then he realized: the subtle tingling he’d felt since he regained consciousness after the first Nukari attack was gone.

  There was no time to consider why. Surrounded by the women, the lead guard motioned toward the oversized doors. Starting forward, Mencari looked at his hands and tried to summon his abilities.

  Nothing.

  No matter how he tried or how much he focused, there was nothing there. He couldn’t even manifest a simple golden aura. He suddenly understood what made the sashed guards so nervous. The four women could somehow negate abilities.

  They continued inside, a quick parade through glittering corridors of crystal until they stopped before two massive slabs with an emblem of a sun in mid-eclipse. The ground rumbled as the slabs opened. Beyond, darkness was broken by a single spotlight in the middle of a chamber. From the general echoes of motion, the room sounded gigantic.

  The emerald-sashed guard and the four women escorted him forward, while the others remained outside. They directed him into the light. Once there, the emerald-sashed guard disappeared into the dark while the women stood in a ring just outside the spotlight. The massive doors thundered closed.

  A deep male voice boomed, “State the nature of the grievance.”

  Images, displaying one after the other like projected video, took shape in the darkness before him.

  A bookish female voice responded, “The accused was found trespassing around our largest moon, Siprax. He failed to produce his Proxima identification, and claims he never had one.”

  Images appeared showing him as he exposed his unmarked wrists.

  “So he removed them,” an aged voice scorned.

  “Our bio-intuitives have detected no such modification,” a nasal-sounding male added.

  Mencari heard his own voice echo in the chamber, “I’m not from your world.”

  The images changed, showing him prodding the milky-hued shield surrounding the world, then flying toward the moon they called Siprax.

  The nasal voice from before rang through the darkness. “We also detected some variance to his genetic makeup and bone structure.”

  The same dissenting old man chided, “Variation is not uncommon among our people.”

  A woman’s voice that oozed a silken confidence added, “Regardless, this individual cannot be identified in the Global Registry of Citizens. His genetic composition has no primordial matches.”

  The old man added, annoyed further, “An oversight, an error in recording.”

  The booming male voice rebutted, “Our process has gone without error for endless generations. An oversight is not a realistic explanation.”

  “Then he is from beyond the shield,” a wizened and equally ancient voice added. A murmur rose like a wave from the darkness as he continued. “It’s as I’ve feared—as I’ve warned! We are no longer safe. The shield is failing.”

  “The Elder Councilman will refrain from further conjecture,” the booming voice said.

  “Floating about does not legitimize the accused’s claim,” the crotchety old man rebuffed.

  “His mind will not hide the truth,” the silken female said.

  From the darkness, two svelte men dressed in long robes draped with sashes of purple and black emerged. They approached slowly, ceremoniously in step with hands clasped as if in prayer, their pure white eyes lost in a trance. The four women in black spread farther apart, retreating until barely visible in the darkness as the two men flanked Mencari. Instantly, the tingling sensation of his abilities returned.

  “You will submit to the mindseers,” the booming voice said while the two took up positions on either side of him.

  The pair joined their hands in an arch over Mencari, and said as one, “Reveal your truth.” The effect was instant, that of a cool, painless fog rolling inside his skull. A smatter of images, all from his past, appeared in the darkness above them.

  The sound of his dead boy’s laugh echoed in the chamber, causing Mencari to draw a quick breath. They could hear his thoughts as well as see them? Before him stood his proud boy, Rhyiel. Next to his little man was a tall, copper-skinned beauty with long black hair and captivating brown eyes.

  “Daddy!” the boy said, love and excitement infusing the word.

  Suddenly, what once only haunted his dreams stood before Mencari, mocking him. His beloved family twisted into rotting demons whose pupil-less eyes glared at him.

  Behind the pair, a boy with sandy-colored hair faded in from the darkness, his brooding face showing disgust. He looked up with green, rage-filled eyes.

  “Eisah.” Mencari’s own voice echoed about the room.

  His wife shrieked as she and the younger boy burst in a plume of flame and ash. Mencari shuddered. The image was no easier to behold waking than in dreams.

  A malicious grin crossed the face of the green-eyed boy. “Daddy,” he said, but his tone was patronizing. With a cruel laugh, he faded into the darkness.

  Scenes from the original Nukari attack on the Coalition appeared, along with the silvery-edged emblem of his nemesis.

  His ancient mentor, Osuto, appeared in a radiant golden glow. As his brilliance spread, others formed from the light. Next to him was a catgirl with a robotic dog, a child flanked by a tiger-like beast, an ancient woman gleaming with crystal skin, a towering amazonian queen with a crowning crest of bone, a muscled warrior baring a giant bladed weapon, a gruff, red-haired catman, a holy man with mint-tinted skin holding a divine relic, a dancer, also with green skin, long pink dreadlocks, and dark eye shadow, and finally a half man-half beast with clawed hands and lizard eyes, holding a vine-covered staff.

  Each radiated the same golden light as Osuto. He looked fondly upon his team, the D’mok Warriors. In their collective glow formed a radiant symbol, like the letter “D”, broken by a “t” down the middle, surrounded by tiny globes: the emblem of the ancient D’mar.

  An audible gasp rang from the darkness, the type one heard when there was a recognition of something familiar, yet unexpected.

  The flow of images accelerated, showing Osuto’s asteroid base, then the alien space station known as the Trading Post where Eyani and Tenrl led Eden, an intergalactic intelligence organization. The images changed to Nukari robots attacking on Aeun, then to mercenaries protecting the mine where Ujaku, his red-haired catman ally, was attacked. The images transformed into the halls of Eden’s sister station, which was filled with black-clad Nukari soldiers ransacking its halls, before melting into a space battle revealing swarms of Nukari beasts projecting beams of energy. The flow slowed, ending on the purple rift revealing an alien world visible through it.

  “An overactive imagination,” the crotchety man said.

  “There are no fabrications here,” the silken voice refuted. “He is not from our world.”

  The mindseers broke hands over Mencari, then walked in step back into the darkness. The women in black floated from the darkness and surrounded him, stifling his abilities once more.

  “Who and what are you?” the booming voice asked.

  “I am Rhysus Mencari. I’m Human. But I’m descended from a race of extinct aliens known as the D’mar. Some had abilities like ours, and were called D’mok Warriors. The D’mar were wiped out by another race called the Nukari, an enemy that has returned to our region of space. My team of warriors is working to drive them out again.”

  “Supposing you speak truth,” the voice boomed, “how did you get here?”

  “There was a rift in space,” Mencari said. “It led here, but closed shortly after I came through.”

  “I told you the shield had grown unstable,” the wise voice said flatly. “Even this alien found his way in.”

  “Why did you come here?” the booming voice said.

  “Th
e rift disabled my ship, then I saw your world. I didn’t intend to come here. I was headed to talk with my people about the Nukari, but I was curious about the world I saw through the rift.”

  “What will you do now?” the voice said.

  “Get back to my team. Stop the Nukari.”

  A loud silence filled the chamber. Mencari stood uncomfortable, wondering what they would do. And what he should do. Another world with D’mok abilities? How many lived here? This world looked far more organized and inhabited than the one they found from Seigie’s crystal. On that world, the dwindling population was left behind to direct stragglers from the exodus from D’mar to the new homeworld after the Nukari attack. However, after centuries of disrepair, they could no longer fulfill their duty. Would this group be different?

  “We could use your help.” Mencari’s voice held no doubt, but a pensive tone. “You seemed to know about the D’mar, are you descendants?” His words echoed in the darkness.

  “Even if we believed your delusions, it is our tradition that only those worthy of aid receive it,” the crotchety man said.

  “Would not a fellow D’mar be worthy of our aid?” the silken female voice said.

  Fellow D’mar?

  “No further audible conversation will be tolerated,” the booming voice said.

  “I invoke Frok’tenar!” the crotchety man bellowed. “There will be no aid unless he demonstrates his worthiness of it!”

  After a long silence, the booming voice returned. “Are you willing to be put to the test?”

  Mencari felt uneasy at the ambiguous request, yet what choice was there? He answered a hesitant, “Yes.”

  With that, the four women stepped completely into the darkness. A purple glow illuminated on the floor in a wide oval around him. The light bulged, then slung out to form thick glowing webs. In moments, a woven cage-like wall sprawled around the ring. The spotlight above him grew, illuminating the entire webbed-in space. A hulking man with an ominous blue aura brooded on the far side.

  The voice boomed out, “Show us you are worthy. Face O’ahdar in battle.”

  O’ahdar stood twice Mencari’s height, and far bulkier in brawn.

  “Begin!” the booming voice said.

  The brute charged. Keeping calm, Mencari assessed his opponent. The man’s hulking physique looked like it would give Naijen a run for his money, but there was something about the alien’s eyes, an emptiness in their blood-lusted glare. Mencari smiled. His opponent, O’ahdar, didn’t appear too smart.

  Using basic combat training, Mencari countered a flurry of thuggish attacks until an unexpected backhand caught his jaw and hurled him into one of the webs. He cried out as pulses of energy ravaged his body. A sudden discharge threw him off the webbing and to the floor. Like a football, O’ahdar punted Mencari in the chest, flinging him back into the web. Mencari cried out, energy ravaging him again.

  Energy built with a high-pitched ring. In a flash, he was tossed back onto the floor. A whimper escaped him, and he shook his head, frantic to clear it. He had no idea where the brute was, but knew he needed to move. Vision blurred, he grunted as he pushed up to his hands and knees. Something had to be done fast, or the only thing he was going to show the aliens was how to get pummeled.

  From the darkness a voice pushed into his mind, one he recognized as the wizened old man.

  Defend yourself!

  How was hearing this possible? The booming voice had said “No further audible conversation will be tolerated.” Were they speaking to one another, as the old man had just done with him? He knew of this ability from his Nukari beast-man turned ally, known as Katen. In a moment of horror he realized if this was the case, it also meant he was as vulnerable to mind attacks as the Nukari beasts were to Katen.

  He saw the bloodthirsty smirk across O’ahdar’s face. This one didn’t use mind games to win battles. The brute enjoys inflicting physical pain—

  Something wrenched in his gut. The Nukari. They too enjoyed torture. They murdered innocents, like his wife and son, didn’t hesitate to painfully embed gadgets into Toriko’s sister, and savagely beat information out of Anrik.

  Mencari reviled such twisted pleasures. People like that couldn’t be allowed to live. Anyone—any thing—without a basic conscience should be destroyed. Where it was found, he’d stomp it out, crush it with his own might.

  A warm sensation drifted to him. Momentarily distracted, he traced its source to the darkness where he’d entered. The warmth wrapped around him like a blanket on a cold night, strengthened him.

  O’ahdar snorted, recapturing his attention. The warmth seemed to mix with his budding hatred. He felt a surge of power and a rabid upwelling took hold. With a bellow, Mencari’s body flared with an angry eruption of the golden light.

  O’ahdar stepped back as Mencari pushed to his feet, then charged. He could feel a hot radiance emanate from his hands as his hard uppercut connected with O’ahdar’s solar plexus. The brute gasped as his body lifted and was thrown into the webbing.

  Mencari watched the man’s sneer melt away, replaced by a voiceless scream of agony. A charge ran along the webbing, building around O’ahdar. In a flash, his body was blown off the web, tossed before Mencari’s feet.

  The faces of the Nukari leaders flashed through Mencari’s mind. Cowards who hid, manipulating from the shadows until they thought their prey was weak and ready to be conquered. He would find them and make sure they could never hurt anyone again.

  O’ahdar pushed to his knees, drawing Mencari’s ire. When I’m done, they won’t get back up.

  Mencari dashed forward, energy swelling. O’ahdar’s eyes grew large as Mencari punted the behemoth back into the webs. As the brute’s body spasmed in the webs, Mencari’s golden aura became tainted with a blood-red light. His anger leading, he reached out, and an arc of crackling energy surged from his hand.

  “Enough!” the voice boomed from the darkness.

  New glowing webs instantly appeared, this time between the men. Mencari felt his attack slow as it struck the barrier, which only made him angrier. He screamed as his power streamed forth, renewed. New webs slung across the field as his blast punched through layer after layer.

  Finally, feet before it could reach O’ahdar, the blast absorbed into a vibrating column of air. Mencari noticed the women in black, in pairs, flanking his prey. They were hunched forward like hags, twisting hands outstretched, straining to maintain the final barrier.

  The rabid fury faded, though he struggled to back his power off, something he’d never experienced before. Usually he found the opposite true. Slowly the intensity faded until the blast fizzled in embers of light.

  “Son of D’mar, you have proven yourself to us. This is … unexpected.”

  The webbing disappeared, dropping O’ahdar to the floor. Soldiers emerged from the darkness, working together to pick up the behemoth before they scampered into the darkness. The four women also returned to the shadows.

  “We will discuss what course of action we take,” the booming voice began. “In the meantime …” A young man dressed in similar garb to the guards emerged from the darkness. The youth’s strawberry-blond locks were in a reverse Mohawk style, and something was embedded in his forehead that resembled interlocking gems. Stranger still, the warm sensation Mencari felt while battling O’ahdar seemed to be coming from him.

  “Until we are ready, you will be our guest,” the booming voice continued. “This cadet will serve as your watcher and guide until we are ready. You are not to leave the High Dome region until you receive further instructions. You will be closely monitored.”

  The massive crystal doors reopened and the cadet motioned to follow.

  They made their way through the downward spiral of a corridor through the dome, and out a grand front entrance. In the front courtyard patterns of light glittered along the ground. Tracing the source, Mencari noted light filtering through the thick outer layer of crystal on the dome, creating the spectacle.

  Fr
om the dome, his eyes were drawn up to the majestic mountains around them. A sweet perfume wafted on a gently cooled breeze. It was an elegant and beautiful world. Carefully groomed flowers and trees created a lush landscape in the park before them.

  Every so often, Mencari noticed curious glances from the cadet. Finally, a timid voice broke the silence. “So … you’re really not from Alo?”

  “Is that the name of this world?” Mencari said, shaking his head.

  “I didn’t think there was anything beyond here.” The cadet nodded. “That’s what we were taught anyway.”

  “The universe is a big place,” Mencari said. “I’m still getting used to that myself.”

  Eyes wide, the cadet said, “You mean there’s another planet out there?”

  “Not one—thousands, with just as many people and languages and wonders.”

  “Are they all like you?”

  He smiled at the funny thought. “No. Some are, but not many. In fact, I’m looking for more like me—like us.”

  The cadet blushed and looked down.

  Looking around Mencari said, “It’s beautiful here.”

  “I always thought so. I’ve been to a few other cities and they’re nice. But I love it here the best. It’s our capital.”

  “How many other cities are there?”

  “I don’t know exactly. Hundreds?”

  Hundreds? And they were all filled with beings that had D’mok abilities? The thought was both thrilling and intimidating.

  “I’m allowed to show you around a little, if you’d like,” the cadet said, motioning toward a ring of trees along a walkway.

  With Mencari’s nod they proceeded. Heading down a long walkway, they entered the park area. The vivid oranges and yellows of the tree leaves were stunning. Among the groomed landscaping, he marveled at the size of the silver statues originally seen during his aerial approach.

  A few natives wandered through, oblivious to the cadet and visitor. An old man whimpered before one of the statues toward the far end.

  “Is he okay?” Mencari said.

  “That’s A’ridar. He’s always here,” the cadet said dismissively. “He’s fine.”