The Dogs of God

by Chris Kennedy

  “I’ve watched my people tear themselves apart over a vote for president. Getting the whole world to toe the line and pick a single leader? I say again, good luck. And you can just call me Corbin. Not sure why you keep calling us by our full names.”

  “Are they not your names?”

  He seemed a little distressed.

  “Sure, but it’s typical to use one or the other under personal circumstances.”

  “How do I know which name to use?”

  “Just ask us. Usually it’s a first name.”

  “But you call Cordell Olen by his second name.”

  “That’s because I can’t call someone Cordell without giggling,” I said.

  “Is the name humorous?”

  “Maybe.” I shrugged. “Not really sure. I mean, I find it humorous.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “That’s alright, Demo. A lot of people don’t understand my sense of humor. It’s random, at best.”

  “Demo?”

  “Seemed like we were shortening names, so why not?”

  “I had already shortened my name, Corbin Ja…Corbin. It is Demodiasientellribosainis.”

  “Demodias it is,” I said. “Not even trying that.”

  “Demo is fine, Corbin.”

  “We are on final approach, Councilor Demodiasientellribosainis.”

  I looked at the navigator. “You’re just showing off.”

  Three of her tentacles vibrated. I was guessing that was laughter.

  I chuckled. “Alright, I’ll go down and get the team ready for this excursion.”

  “Thank you, Corbin.”

  I nodded and left the command deck.

  * * *

  I stepped into the room where the security forces were suiting up and took one of the weapons from the arms locker.

  “Looks simple enough,” I said and passed it back to Viktor, who was right behind me.

  “Da,” he replied as he looked it over and passed it back to Olen.

  “Magazine, bang switch…Yep, I’m good.”

  “More of a battery pack,” I said and sent the others down the line. “But accurate enough.”

  I turned as I took the sixth weapon for myself, to find the whole group of security forces staring at us.

  “What? I’m not setting foot on a hostile planet without going armed.”

  “This is highly irregular, Initiate.”

  “Irregular or not, we go armed, or we don’t go.”

  Security was made up of a race that looked similar to a bat in appearance. They were called Frotu. According to Demodias, they were one of the few races who were capable of doing violence without the repercussions to the psyche most of the races contended with.

  The security chief paused and had that faraway look in his eyes as he used the net to contact Demodias.

  He nodded, and his gaze refocused on me. “You will go armed. But you will not fire unless ordered to do so. Do you understand?”

  “Gotcha.”

  I started placing the battery pack magazines in the pockets of the rugged wear we had been assigned. Military was much the same anywhere. Good tactical gear had pockets.

  “We are not assaulting the whole planet,” the chief said as I placed the twelfth magazine in my pocket.

  “Tell him that,” I said, pointing to Olen, who had just picked up a bandolier of grenades.

  He looked up at us. “What?”

  “Nothin’ at all,” I said. “Got any more of those?”

  “Three more strings of ‘em.”

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” I said and took the bandolier he offered me. “Remember, these will go a lot further when you throw them here.”

  It took us about ten minutes to get all we wanted. The ladies took a little less than we did, but they were all smaller framed. Robin was just over five feet tall. They carried their rifles and seven magazines apiece.

  Each of them took one of the helmets I handed them, and I put the sixth one on my head. It fit wrong, but as soon as it settled, it shifted. I yelped as the thing conformed to my head.

  “Awful jumpy,” Olen said with a grin.

  “Groped by a seat, then a uniform, now a hat,” Robin muttered.

  “Weird shape-shifting hats…” I grumbled and followed the security chief from the armory.

  I held my rifle to my chest in a combat-ready position as I followed the chief down the ramp where several Frotu awaited. Demodias followed behind us.

  “Councilor.” One of them bowed. “There is an encampment to the west of us that is not too large. Will this suffice?”

  “It should be enough to show our new friends what to expect from the Makron. Make sure we keep our distance from the camp.”

  We followed along behind the Frotu as they headed in what I assumed was a westerly direction. About ten minutes passed before we left the forested area we had landed in. I saw both Viktor and Olen looking up at the rim of the canyon we were following the Frotu into.

  “This would be an excellent ambush site,” I said.

  “I was thinking the same,” Olen said.

  “I am gonna go scout the rim,” I said. “Viktor, you take the left, and I’ll take the right.”

  He nodded and we both moved before the Frotu could even protest. With the light gravity, we were both up on our respective rims in moments. I eased along the top of the right wall as Viktor did the same along the left. There was no sign of anyone having been up here before, so I went down the canyon wall as quickly as I had gone up it.

  Viktor met me back at the group.

  “Clear?” I asked.

  “Da.”

  “Good.”

  “Demodias and his security chief look a little distraught,” Olen said with a grin. “Should probably warn them if you’re gonna do that again.”

  The party continued through the canyon and into another forested area, where we started to climb. We halted just below the crest of the ridge we had been climbing. The Frotu who had met us at the ramp turned to Demodias.

  “From this rise, one can observe the camp.”

  “Thank you, Lorn.”

  The Frotu bowed once more.

  “Here we will observe,” Demodias said.

  I dropped to my knees and eased up the last little bit to the ridge. I could see odd-looking buildings in the distance, and a visor dropped over my face to magnify what I was seeing. The buildings were squat, with curved walls, and no obvious corners. They only held my attention for a moment as something else caught my eye.

  “Everyone hold up,” I said. “What do the natives of this world look like?”

  “They average ten microts in height, red-tinted skin for most of them—”

  “If ten microts is this tall,” I held my hand at about chest level, “then something is really wrong. There are red-skinned people laying all over the place. They look as if they were shot.”

  Lorn poked his head up.

  “Oh, no,” he said. “They were alive when I was here a davit ago.”

  “The jig is up,” I said. “Something’s wrong. How many Makron were down there?”

  “Fifty or sixty,” he said.

  “We have to get back to the ship,” I said. “Now.”

  The chief nodded and led us back the way we had come. His head spun to the left, and his ears flared. “They are coming.”

  “Go,” I said. “Go! We need to get to that canyon. Don’t worry about keeping quiet. They know we’re here.”

  I heard an electric sort of buzz, and saw Demodias stumble.

  “Zhenya! Polina! Get him to the ship! Use the gravity!”

  Zhenya scooped up the councilor and leapt forward, Polina hot on her heals with her weapon ready.

  “You all must go!” the chief said. “We will hold them until you are away!”

  “That’s not how this works, Chief!” Olen said as he fired the rifle toward the trees. “We don’t leave a man behind!”

  “Get moving! We need to get them i
nto that canyon!”

  We ran for the canyon.

  “If we can use the canyon for an ambush, we might just make it out of this yet!”

  As the walls rose on each side, I stopped. “Olen, continue to the other end! Then set up to fire back into them! Viktor, on the wall!”

  I was pointing to the canyon wall he had scouted.

  “I got the other one! Hold fire until I fire my first shot! Robin!” I pointed at an escarpment. “Will you be able to handle the height on that?”

  “I’m on an alien world about to be attacked by flipping demons,” she said. “I don’t have time for a fear of heights!”

  She was already moving toward the canyon wall, and the others were running. I went straight up the wall as fast as I could throw myself.

  “Take that, Spiderman!” I eased behind a boulder just as the Makron troops came running over the ridge and poured into the canyon. There were at least sixty, maybe even seventy-five.

  As the last of them entered the canyon, I rose and fired right into their backs. Viktor was only seconds behind me. The Frotu opened fire from in front of them, and I saw grenades begin sailing down the canyon from Olen’s direction. The first two sailed past the Makron before he got his range. The first two explosions behind them stopped their charge as they turned to see what was happening. Three grenades in quick succession landed in their midst.

  I continued firing until my mag was depleted and pulled one of the twelve reloads I carried.

  “‘We’re not assaulting the whole planet,’” I muttered. “Bet you’re glad we brought ‘em now.”

  I figured Viktor and I had just about used up all the surprise we had left from these positions and charged forward along the canyon wall. I threw a couple of grenades as I ran. I had seen how much Olen had overthrown with his first, so I tried to adapt. The first landed at the outer edge of the group of Makron, but the blast still sent them flying through the air.

  I was laughing like a madman and my ears were ringing from the explosions. I had been in the position those Makron were in down there, and I had managed to survive, but it was one of the most terrifying things I had ever faced. I slid behind another boulder and poked my rifle around the edge to start firing again.

  About ten of the Makron sprinted back the way they had come, and I shot them as they ran. Viktor joined me after a moment. We couldn’t let them get back and warn anyone else that we were here.

  “Double time!” I yelled. “Back to the ship!”

  * * *

  I was sitting in a chair beside the tank they had placed Demodias in. They had told me it was a Movari healing tube. It was a nanite tank. The tank didn’t cover his head, since there had been no injury there, and I was about to nod off when he awoke.

  “Corbin?”

  “Right here, Demo.”

  “The other initiates? Are they safe?”

  “We’re all just fine. No one was injured, except you and one of the security guys. He got a flesh wound. You took a solid hit. You’re tougher than you look.”

  “How is that even possible? How did Zardo manage to get us out of there with so few injuries?”

  “Zardo did not,” the chief said from the door. “The humans are responsible.”

  “Is this true?” Demodias asked me.

  “The Frotu shot a lot of Makron.”

  “It is kind of you to say, Human, but I would have given ten of my men for one of you in that fight. I will say that you are the most ferocious species I have ever encountered, and I am very happy you are on our side.”

  “I don’t know about ferocious.”

  “Your helmet recorded everything you saw, Human. And all that you said. I am very happy you brought all of the weapons.”

  I chuckled and stood up. “Get better, Demo. You got six humans ready to join your cause.”

  “But you never witnessed how the Makron were treating the slaves.”

  “We saw all we needed to see. They didn’t have to execute the slaves before coming after us. That was enough.”

  “Then we will go to Golde.”

  “Alright then,” I said and walked from the med bay.

  * * *

  I sat watching the viewer. My helmet still rested in the seat where I had left it. It was pointed toward Demodias.

  The other Himmith, Samaad, stepped close to the tank. “They are brutal, Councilor. Watch the footage I have sent to you.”

  Demo got that faraway look on his face as he watched.

  “Brutal, but necessary,” he said. “We would have perished there without them.”

  “They took joy in murder,” Samaad said.

  “They took joy in battle,” he answered. “We need them. Not just the initiates, we need them all. Did you not see the Makron lose? They lost to a quarter of their number.”

  “I fear them.”

  “As do I,” Demo said. “But I fear the Makron will destroy us all without them.”

  “Will they be better than the Makron?”

  “I think they will. You saw them stay when they did not need to stay. They stayed so that Zardo and his troops would not be left behind. We would have left them behind. He would not.”

  “You like this Human.”

  “I do.”

  “Do we dare put them in the Darkstars?”

  “We must put them in the Darkstars. The others? I am still uncertain.”

  Demodias was looking straight at the helmet I had left in my chair.

  “I fear they will be our doom,” Samaad said.

  “Perhaps they will,” he replied. “But what if they are not? Can you imagine that?”

  “I try, Grand Councilor, I try.”

  * * *

  “The first thing that will need to be installed is the neural net, which will allow you to communicate with the Darkstars,” Demodias said. “These injections will hold the ‘nanites’ as you call them. They will construct the neural net. You will feel nothing while this is being done, but you may be hungrier than you would normally be. We will be giving you supplements to provide some of the materials that are not naturally available in your bodies.”

  “What sort of materials?” Robin asked.

  “Kilsenar is one of them. It is very rare, and quite expensive.”

  “And you’re using that on us?” I asked. “Isn’t there a chance the links won’t work?”

  “There is. But the risk must be undertaken. You still do not understand the importance of the Darkstars.”

  “They must be pretty damned important,” Olen said.

  “Probably the most important thing in the whole galaxy, as far as the Republic is concerned. We will not survive the Makron without them, and without you.”

  “Geez,” Robin said. “No pressure or anything.”

  I chuckled.

  “Hit me with that shot,” I said. “Let’s get this party started.”

  * * *

  The neural net was amazing. It was like I had all of the network of knowledge available at a thought. It wasn’t even fully operational yet, and I could access almost any databank on the station. I could feel the blocks from accessing anything further than that. Demodias hadn’t said anything about the blocks, and I hadn’t bothered asking. I understood their hesitancy to lay everything bare before the savages. And I truly understood their fear. I’d seen some of the worst of us in my time in the Army. If they were afraid of me, I would hate for them to meet some of the people I used to work with. Straight up psychopaths.

  “The original Darkstar will be the first we approach. It is tradition. In a hundred years, the Blackstar has never responded. It was the first created, and much had to be changed for the Darkstars to be able to bond with a pilot. It was thought that we could disassemble the Blackstar and use its components. This was a thought that the Blackstar chose to change when the crews were to begin. It would not let them approach.”

  “It chose?” Viktor asked.

  “It did,” Demodias said. “And every initiate has been brought bef
ore the Blackstar before they were taken to the Darkstars in the other hangars.”

  “Why do you do it? Why even go to this Blackstar?” Robin asked.

  “As I said, it is as much tradition as anything. It has not even deigned to scan an initiate in forty of your years. I think it may have given up. If you will follow me, you will see the first of the Darkstars.”

  He opened a hatch that led into a darkened hangar. The bay was huge, but it needed to be. The Blackstar looked more like a living creature than I expected. It almost filled the bay.

  “I’ll be damned,” I muttered. “You can call her what you want, but that’s a dragon.”

  “Now we will move on to…”

  The ship moved. It moved like some great beast, and in a single fluid motion, turned to face us.

  “Oh…” Demodias froze.

  There was a loud hum, and static filled my head as all of my connections to the rest of the station were severed. There was something else in my head, someone else. And she…was…glorious. Everyone stumbled as a scream of triumph came from the Blackstar. It shook the hangar, and the others stumbled back from the ship, which moved closer. The—for lack of a better term—head stopped less than a foot from me, and I reached out in awe to touch the rippling surface.

  I am Eve, the Black Star, and you…are…MINE!

  The final word reverberated through the hangar, through the station, and through my very being. No matter what happened after this, I knew my life was forever altered.

  “I’m Corbin,” I said softly, my trembling hand resting on the warm surface, “and I am yours.”

  * * * * *

  Christopher Woods Bio

  Christopher Woods, writer of fiction, teller of tales, and professional liar, was born in 1970 and has spent most of his life with a book in hand. He is known for his popular Soulguard series as well as creating the shared universe in The Fallen World series. He has also written several short stories and the novel, “Legend” in the Four Horsemen Universe. With books ranging from fantasy to post-apocalyptic science fiction and military science fiction, there should be something for everyone. He lives in Woodbury, TN with his wife, Wendy. As a former carpenter of 25 years, he spends his time between various building projects and writing new books. To contact him go to https://theprofessionalliar.com and send him a message or find him on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/chris.woods.37.