The Warlord's Path: Samair in Argos: Book 6

by Michael Kotcher

  ((--[][]--))

  War Leader Vok stepped into Ganges’s sickbay and an argument. He hustled forward, his hand on his sidearm.

  He saw one of the human orderlies on the deck, biting his lip, his face scrunched up in pain, his arm at a crazy angle and blood dripping on his tunic from a cut on the back of his head. Another of the medics was coming over to him, while Cromm was leaning on the edge of his sister’s biobed. Said sister was trying to get to her feet, but her other brother Stryx was trying to push her back down. Both of them were screaming almost incoherently at one another; the awkward angle and his sibling’s injury were the only things allowing the smaller male to keep Dragga down, but it was a hard-fought battle.

  Vok tried calling out orders, but no one was listening, much less could they hear him over the Secaarans yelling. He pulled his pistol and fired, the heavy ammunition blasted a small hole in the overhead plating. Everyone noticed that. Everyone froze, in fact, as he hissed at them.

  “Someone. Explain. Now.” His voice was calm and measured, but each word was its own sentence.

  “You’re going on a raid, War Leader!” Dragga despaired.

  He lowered his weapon to his side but did not holster it. “Yes, we are. That is not news.”

  “That-that-that creature there,” she indicated the injured medic, who flinched, “Said that I was to be transferred to the medical station on the shipyard, while the Strike flotilla goes on to the fight.” Her finger pointed accusingly at the stricken man.

  “That is the plan, yes,” Vok replied, mandibles twitching.

  “No, I have to come with you,” the Secaaran stated, almost pleading.

  Vok chittered. “You can barely stand up, and you can’t stop your brother from holding you down. Ordinarily, you’d have shoved him off and knocked him down. I don’t need liabilities on my platoon, Dragga.”

  Now she was the one who looked stricken. “Then you will have to kill me, War Leader,” she declared defiantly. “Because that is the only way I will not go along. And if you use the dishonorable path, if you drug me to keep me out, I will make them kill me when I wake.” She looked perfectly serious.

  Vok buzz in frustration. “I do not need this right now, soldier.”

  “Then bring me along, War Leader,” she said, finally managing to get Stryx to release her so she could sit up properly.

  He buzzed again. He knew her resolve, and he knew that she was completely serious. He emitted a deep hiss and stomped a foot on the deck. “You will come along under three conditions, Dragga. If you argue with me, if you defy me, I will drug you and keep you in a state of semi-consciousness for years to come. Not awake enough to fight or kill yourself, just enough to realize what it means to suffer.” He was silent for a long moment, and they locked gazes. “Do you understand me?”

  They stared at one another in silence for a long moment, but then she looked away and nodded. “Yes, War Leader, as long as I am allowed to join in the battle.”

  He raised his pointer finger and hissed. “You are not in command here, Dragga! You do not give me orders!”

  But she was not submissive this time, simply accepting. “No, War Leader. I do not.”

  He spent several long seconds calming himself down before he spoke again. “Very well. You will remain in the hands of the medics and the doctors aboard either Ganges or Adrasteia until we are ready to fight on Elcor. If that means you stay in a tank for three weeks, then that is what that means. Do you understand?” She nodded, a look of disgust on her face that was quickly quashed. “Second, when I give you an order on that battlefield, no matter what it is, you will obey it. If I tell you to stand and hold a corridor, or hold back and protect the hover pallets, you will do it without question. The first time you argue, I shoot you myself.” Again, she nodded, and this time, the brothers exchanged glances. In his peripheral vision, he could see the medic helping the human to his feet.

  “And third, you will accompany me to the armory now. One of the doctors will come with us to monitor you, and Stryx will keep you from injuring yourself further. You will be fitted with an armored vest, one of the nanoweave mesh ones. You will wear it like a second skin at all times during any combat engagement. Your brothers will also be outfitted with similar ones. You all three will wear them. And I will not hear one word of complaint.” He looked around, making sure that all of them understood.

  “On your feet. Now. You seem to have a great deal of energy, so we are going to the Armory.” The three Secaarans were on their feet in an instant and were following along behind, almost docile in their acceptance. The zheen almost laughed. No one wants to be left out of this fight.

  ((--[][]--))

  Verrikoth stepped into the compartment of the Xai’ryn, who was studying information on a virtual display before her, two of the drei’kai dozing just beside her. Another pair of worker drones were studying a squat device. Apparently, they were enthralled with either taking it apart or putting it back together. A click of his mandibles drew their attention, and they waved to him. The rest of the compartment was empty of the drones, who were off in other places within the ship, either working with the engineering crews or patrolling the corridors. It was good; the crew needed to get used to seeing them on a day to day basis.

  “Warlord,” the Xai’ryn said as he entered, acknowledging his presence.

  “Xai’ryn,” he replied. “What did you think of this world?”

  She buzzed slightly. “Mining and subsistence farming,” she said, without disdain. “I understand the usefulness, but it isn’t all that interesting.”

  Verrikoth acknowledged her point. “Venarriss iz hardly the sshining jewel in my ssscepter. But they are happy and they do provide ssome goodz for export.”

  She chittered. “That is as may be, but Doldrums would provide more toward this collective than Venarris.”

  The Warlord was forced to agree. The last system that Nemesis and Kopesh had visited was one named Doldrums by the Republic back before the war. It had been a research outpost out of the way and far from any of the fronts, which was perfect for their needs. When the Republic had pulled out of the Argos Cluster after the war, the place was simply shut down and abandoned. A small expedition of five thousand people had arrived here a dozen years ago, chasing the dream of a Republic treasure trove. They discovered the facility and the domed city on the face of the cold moon. The system itself was cold, with only a pair of gas giants and two other frozen rocks as planetary masses.

  The facility only could accommodate about two hundred scientists and technicians, leaving the rest of the expedition to move into the domed city. They found enough dwellings for their people as well as air recyclers and sections for farming, both in the soil as well as in hydroponic gardens. It was perfect for a startup colony.

  But the real gem, of course, was the research facility. The people who reactivated it did so slowly, as not to cause any destruction of any data or equipment that might have been left behind. What they discovered was mountains of data and several prototypes for advanced shield generators. The research began, and copies of the most promising of the designs were made to send back to Verrikoth. Any fabrication equipment had been removed in the Republic evacuation, but materials and tools were still here, as well as what the expedition brought with them, so it would be possible to make some new prototypes by hand.

  “The dezzignz are over two hundred and fifty yearz old, and it iz quite possible that what we already have on our sshipss iz better than what they have dezzignz for,” Verrikoth admitted, “But I have few in the way of sscience ressearch facilitiez. It iz a boon left behind by the Republic. I cherish ssuch giftss.” She looked at him, but he was betraying no sign of sarcasm.

  “Now we are on to Hecate,” the Xai’ryn stated. “Do you expect to be attacked upon arrival?”

  Verrikoth buzzed in consternation. “I hope not. If that sstrike recorded by the Fletcher’z Dolly iz any indication, it sshould have jusst been a raid. They would have ssmasshed
some infrasstructure, made some threatss and then left. If it waz the vanguard to an invazzion, we won’t go very far in.” He hissed quietly.

  “Why that tone?”

  Another buzz. “Because if the Republic haz ssset up shop in Hecate then that iz ssomething I cannot let sstand. I will have to rally every sship of mine and recruit any alliezz from nearby sstar ssysstemz I can and then hit Hecate with everything.”

  “You would attack the Republic?” she asked, shocked.

  He chittered, antennae flaring. “I already have. Twice. I was victoriouss in my objectivezz both timez, though admittedly, the Republic heavy cruizer in Byra-Kae did force me to abandon the ssysstem.” He straightened his shoulders. “But I cannot allow them to esstablissh a toehold in my sspace. We will do what we can. To repel a proper invazzion might be beyond my forcezz. And it would take monthss to assemble them all. But I will not let it sstand.”

  ((--[][]--))

  “Approaching the fourth planet now, Commander,” the helmsman reported, easily working the helm controls of the Adrasteia.

  “Bring us into high orbit,” Hestian ordered. “But keep the freighters above. Comms, I know you’ve been monitoring traffic.”

  “Yes, Commander. It’s a mess,” Xkors told him. “Hundreds of communications on all radio frequencies. I’m attempting to isolate the government channels now, but I’m starting to get the knack of which nation-state is which.” Five minutes later, he spoke. “Commander, I have it. Ready to transmit, but it’s audio only. There are three large nation-states on the northern continent. The only place where people live, in fact.” He went on. “The first is on the western seaboard, consisting of eight large cities along the coast and slightly inland, near to a low mountain range. They call themselves the Union of Geldar.” Hestian grunted but said nothing, gesturing for the zheen to continue. “The nation-state of Drusiliad is on the southern archipelago, four cities, and a dozen smaller towns and what look like military bases. The third is inland, but their four cities are dotting along a fertile river plain. They also appear to have some serious mining going on in a mountain range to the east. Each of the nation-states is over a thousand kilometers from each other, though Drusiliad is also a behind a large mountain range which then stretches out into the archipelago. It’s a bit more isolated than the others, and that nation-state is over three thousand kilometers away from the others.”

  “And the name of the third nation?” Hestian asked, a tone of rebuke in his voice at the oversight.

  “Forgive me, Commander. Aquinnea.” The zheen’s carapace blushed rose, and his antennae curled.

  “Any indication of a front-runner in their little stand-off?”

  “Size-wise, I would say Geldar. But I’m getting military chatter from all of them, Commander. They all seem to have noticed us.”

  Groth chimed in. “They certainly have. I’m showing a marked increase in military activity in all three nations over the last six hours. They are scrambling everything.”

  “Good,” the commander replied. “They will be ready to receive us then. Comms, see if you can get through on either their military or government channels to the good people of Aquinnea. Inland like that, I think they would be the best place to start.”

  Xkors nodded, dipping his antennae. “Ready, Commander.”

  Hestian pressed the flashing indicator on his chair arm. “This is Commander Hestian of the cruiser Adrasteia to Aquinnea. Respond immediately or I will respond with force.” For several long minutes, there was no response, and Hestian repeated his message twice, with the same results.

  “They can hear you, Commander,” Xkors assured him.

  “I’m sure. But they aren’t listening, and they certainly aren’t obeying. Tactical, ready orbital bombardment. Align with the city center, but try to avoid any building that looks like a storage warehouse.” He waved a hand before Kuragg, his wolf tactical officer, could protest. “Do your best. I know there is some drift when firing into atmosphere.” He sent the coordinates for the city he wanted.

  “Targets locked,” the tactical officer confirmed.

  “Launch,” Hestian ordered, calmly. The tactical officer pressed the control, and his commander watched the tracks of the projectiles as they hurled away from Adrastreia toward the planet. It took seven minutes for the projectiles to hit, while the government of Aquinnea remained silent, perhaps unaware of what was coming.

  The projectiles were metal shaped to be as aerodynamic as possible for maximum effectiveness. The kinetic weapons slammed into the ground, expelling all that energy in a blast that sent up a huge cloud of dust and debris, completely obscuring Adrastreia’s view of the city.

  “How about now, Comms?”

  The zheen chittered. “Emergency channels are flooded. So are the government ones. Everyone is trying to figure out what to do.”

  “Find me someone to talk to,” Hestian replied, still calm. “They don’t have to be there in that city.”

  “Understood. I’ll find someone.” It was a good three minutes before he looked back to his commander. “It’s just chaos down there.”

  The lupusan let out a whuff of air. “Fine. Tactical, prep another salvo. Sensors, get me the full picture of the damage. Comms, broadcast in channels solely for Aquinnea to hear.” Xkorks nodded, then pointed back at him.

  “Aquinnea, this is Adrasteia. That was one salvo of projectiles. I will fire again if you do not respond.”

  Less than two seconds later, Xkors spoke. “That woke them up. Incoming transmission.”

  Hestian bared his teeth as the line went active. “Oh, shades! Adrasteia, this is Aquinnea Air Control in the city of Trebault. Please hold your fire! I say again, hold fire! Your bombs did so much damage and ended many lives.”

  Hestian cut in, putting a growl and subsonics in his voice. He even allowed an outright rumble to permeate his chest. “There will be a great deal more damage and loss of life if you continue to ignore me. Surrender, or I will launch another bombardment.”

  “Shades, no! Please, do not fire! I do not have the authority to surrender to you, or even speak with you. Please let me get someone who can.”

  “You have three minutes, or I launch another salvo,” the lupusan warned.

  “Yes, yes, of course, Adrasteia,” the man babbled, the line clicked off.

  Hestian grunted. “Tactical, lock target, in case they try and get belligerent.” Chuckles sounded from the bridge crew. Any amount of belligerence from the locals would be as meaningful as peeping mice. The locals couldn’t hurt the flotilla, not with the weapons they had at their disposal.

  After less than forty-five seconds, a new voice came over the line. “This is Chancellor Dee Quay, of the sovereign nation of Aquinnea calling Adrasteia. We acknowledge your power, but we will resist you.”

  Xkors chittered to himself, and there were light chuckles from the other bridge crew. Hestian answered. “There will be no fighting. If you do not surrender completely, I will level your cities and teach you all the meanings of the word destruction.” A little melodramatic, sure, but I want no misunderstandings.

  After almost another minute of hesitation on the part of the good Chancellor Dee Quay, Hestian spoke, keeping the radio channel open. “Tactical, ready strike package two.”

  “Ready, Commander,” the tactical officer called back, loudly.

  “Excellent, prepare to fire,” he ordered, unable to keep a note of glee out of his voice.

  “Wait! Wait, please!” The panic in the first word which subsided to resignation. “Please do not fire. I am ordering all troops to stand down. If you forbear for one minute, I will get the President on the line.”

  “You have one minute,” Hestian informed him. “After that, I launch and level that city completely.”

  The line clicked off again. Sensor data flooded onto Hestian’s screens and he turned most of his attention to it. The damage from the kinetic strike was extensive, but at a relative stop to the planet, the five projectiles struck w
ith what could be considered minimal force. Still, several city blocks were in ruins; dust and smoke clouds covered the area. Fires broke out, but the lupusan was sure that fire crews would be moving to respond.

  “Any sign that their fighter craft are launching?”

  Groth shook his head. “No, Commander. They did launch four of their fixed-wing aircraft, but nothing since the bombardment.”

  The line came active. “This is President Nordd Callas,” a male voice stated. “I am ordering a surrender of all my forces. Please do not fire.” He paused.

  “I’m glad you see sense,” Hestian told him. “Make no doubt; my visit will be costly for you. But it will be far less so than if you try and fight me.”

  He could feel President Callas stiffen, even though he could not see him. “What is it that you want?”

  “We are looking for valuables, maximum value, minimum bulk. Gold, or other monetary metals, jewelry or precious stones, art, as well as refined metals.”

  “I see,” the President replied, hesitant. He was beginning to understand, but his pride would not allow him to accept it. He had soldiers and weapons and aircraft. He so wanted to fight, to strike against these invaders but he could not. “We await your delegation.”

  “We shall be landing shuttles soon. Any attacks on my people will be met with lethal response. My ships will rain down destruction on your city, and they will make sure that you, personally, are among the first to die.”

  He could hear the audible swallow over the comms. “I understand. There will be no problems.”

  “Land all your aircraft,” Hestian ordered. I don’t want even so many as one in the air checking the wind conditions.” He immediately heard two strange clicking sounds.

  “It is done. The planes will all be on the ground in five minutes.”

  “Once I have confirmation, I will send down a landing part to discuss this with you in more detail. Out.” He turned to Groth. “Monitor them. Tell Vok to have his platoon geared up. I’ll be in the hangar bay. Kethken, you have command in my absence,” he said to the lupusan tactical officer.