Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Reprisal Read online

  It was their turn now to make their approach to Avenger’s landing bays. The pilot had been assigned the portside hangar, and approached Avenger from low on her port side as he passed her going from bow to stern; all arrivals entered the bay from the stern while launches left the forward doors of the under-hull hangar bays.

  Seconds after passing the stern, the pilot entered a sharp climbing left hand turn, watching his HUD and synthetic symbology on the cockpit windows to follow the arrival corridor that they were assigned. Loren assumed another ship was doing the same thing on Avenger’s starboard side, and the most important rule was to not stray into the other bay’s arrival corridor. At the least, the Combat Coordinator would issue an angry wave-off and require you to re-enter the pattern. At worst, you might find yourself trading paint with the other arriving craft or the stern of Avenger, neither of which were endorsed by the Confederation Navy.

  The pilot had just lined up and was flying the approach manually; while it was acceptable to turn the arrival over to the landing computer, most pilots were only willing to trust their lives so far, and giving a sometimes-twitchy computer a chance to kill them during a combat landing was not often a chance they were willing to take.

  Loren saw the flash a split second before it hit. Another near-miss, though this one took off a few feet of the portside wing and caused a partial power failure. The transport wobbled into the landing bay as the pilot dropped the landing skids; meanwhile, the co-pilot slapped a series of switches to isolate the damaged systems and hopefully prevent any unwanted surprises.

  The transport dipped its’ port wing as the landing repulsors partially failed on that side. The pilot wrenched the controls to the right, trying to correct, and was more successful than Loren expected him to be with the transport in the condition it was in. It bounced on the right gear pads, lifted a bit as the repulsors overcompensated, then landed squarely on the mains, twice. Without missing a beat, the pilot quickly cut in the parking thrusters and moved the ship off to the side of the bay, clearing the lane for the next arrival.

  The pilot secured the shuttle, then relaxed a bit and took a breath. He looked back at Loren and smiled. “I’m going to log every one of those landings.”

  It was another deceptively normal afternoon on Delos. The temperate weather was just right for short sleeves and summer clothing, it was after working hours, and the streets were populated with a respectable number of people going about their business. The only things that stood out of place were the armed Priman troops and assault vehicles strategically placed at major intersections about the capital city and other major population centers.

  Adan and Shadra, two of the SAR operatives sent down to arrange Senator Dennix’s rescue, were out on recon posing as just another young couple taking a stroll in the city. They knew in the abstract that in addition to the capital, a dozen other major cities on this continent were likewise occupied. From what they gathered, the Primans probably didn’t plan on staying on Delos forever. They had remarkably few troops on hand to hold the capital of the Confederation of Systems. Adan theorized that they were keeping enough troops on the ground to pacify the civilian population and deter armed resistance, but that they wouldn’t spend too much time fighting for the place if a major engagement loomed. Shadra agreed with his assessment; there were too few troops on the ground to hold off a determined ground assault, and that the troops were merely there to keep order until the leadership decided what to do with the capital. It was all a bit hard to accept, though, since things were so normal in so many other ways. The Primans were going about their occupation with some definite public relations savvy, and the easy way the populace seemed to move on with their business worried the operatives just a bit. Adan liked to lecture Shadra on his dim view of people as often as she would let him. He preached about how most beings, especially when in large groups, were simply rude, inconsiderate, and generally unworthy of the air they consumed. Taken to its’ purest form, Adan simply didn’t like people all that much. He claimed he enjoyed being a SAR operative because somebody had to clean up after the fools that were trying to run the galaxy into the ground.

  They had been doing this for two days now, the four operatives taking turns patrolling the general vicinity of the Senator’s hidden transmission studio. Whatever their personal politics and thoughts about the man, they acknowledged it was at least worth a try to get one recognized government official out to freedom to show the inhabitants of the Confederation that the military didn’t want to take over and run without the elected government.

  With two days to go before their scheduled pickup, they had nothing more to do than trying to gather as much information about the Primans and their goals as possible. Their initial assessment was that the Primans were holding Delos to see what Confed’s Navy did about it. If the Navy didn’t try to take the planet back, the people would potentially lose faith that the military was going to help them. If the Navy was drawn into a conflict before they were prepared and thus routed, the Primans would hold the strategic upper hand and could call the shots. It seemed pretty sound strategy, militarily speaking.

  As a bonus, the Primans had a captive population to work their propaganda on. The operatives had been briefed on the earliest report of Priman media campaigns to ‘educate’ the inhabitants of the galaxy on their supposed Priman heritage. The Priman propagandists had saturated the Galactic Data System and every other carrier of information with their message of how they had benevolently helped the galaxy become the advanced place it was today. The truth was, Adan and Shadra couldn’t help but wonder if there was any truth to the matter. The Primans had of course provided DNA samples to everyone in this particular galactic arm who would study them, but when someone handed you something at the point of a blaster, you tended to doubt their sincerity. Still, as the Primans continued in their drive towards the galactic core, their message was spreading, if for no other reason than they were gobbling up more territory and sending out their information through more outlets. The latest estimates the operatives had seen was that it would take less than a month for the Primans to secure a foothold into the main galactic body, from which they could branch out just as easily in any direction they chose. With relatively secure supply lines and pacified territory from the galactic core clear out to the edge of Enkarran space where they initially invaded, there wasn’t much to stop them. Confed and the Talarans, the two powers most capable of resisting, had so far been relieved of planetary systems and kept on the defensive enough to have not played a major role in stopping the invaders.

  And so Adan and Shadra stood near the ‘education center’, a former police station that had been gutted and converted into a high tech and glitzy place to get indoctrinated on all of the wonders of this galaxy’s new/old friends, the Primans. The building’s interior was mostly off limits, but the two story front façade was open to the street, and larger than life holograms repeated messages of the benefits of embracing the Priman way. There was a live speaker at present as the two passed by, and they stopped to listen with the small crowd that had formed on the street, the surface roadway having been blocked off to vehicles so more people could congregate around the education center.

  The speaker was tall, with the typical smooth features and light hair common to Primans. He wore a white suit of sorts, with a flowing longcoat of the same color. It only emphasized their point that they were templates for many races when you saw their faces; it was easy to imagine those rounded, somewhat flat features as they finished developing into the prominent characteristics of many advanced cultures in the galaxy.

  “And so I ask you,” the man was saying from the second story balcony, “look at your galaxy, your civilization. Examine the greed, corruption, war, disease, inequality- all the things you have grown to accept as part of your lives. We offer you the opportunity to change that. We Primans have no such tribulations. We are a united people, we do not war with each other. We have conquered disease. Our civilization is not ruled by g
reed or fear but cooperation, working together to reunite everyone who once stood with us as a peaceful, prosperous empire.

  “Look at all your various forms of government that have failed utterly or at the very least not allowed you to prosper. There’s the various forms of monarchy- what makes one particular family line more fit to rule than another? The chaotic Quorum of Ten Thousand in the Aryss System, where the first ten thousand residents into the Senate Hall get to vote on the items on the docket. The various Democracies where a few corrupt politicians make policy for billions. All pale in comparison to the organized, culture-wide agenda we as Primans live on a daily basis, where power is wielded by those who must willingly step aside and who are watched by those who served previous and those who will serve next.

  “We regret the need to resort to military force, for our philosophers often say that those who resort to the physical battle have already lost the mental one. However, your government and those in this part of space would never have allowed us to bring this message to you. We only seek to present to you the facts and give all of you in this galaxy the opportunity to relish in the enlightened existence we offer.”

  “He’s good, I’ll give him that,” whispered Adan to Shadra as he scanned the crowd for familiar faces or the telltale signs they were being followed.

  “So what, are you planning on joining up?”

  “I want to see what they’re offering if I sign up. Is there a health plan, moving expenses, that sort of thing? I’m keeping my options open. Besides, maybe we can learn something from the way they run their operation. Can’t be any worse than the way our government does it.” She knew he was joking, but making light of the Primans still seemed like something the Confederation hadn’t earned the right to do yet- the Primans were still the ones in charge of the conflict.

  “And so I draw your attention again to our information center, where you can freely access many of our databases. Ask yourself if the legends of your culture’s past could have originated from us. Many of your religions speak of beings and acts that we routinely performed during those early days of civilization. Here in our databanks, you can compare your civilization’s legends and heroes with our historical timeline, and see for yourself how it might just have been the Priman explorers who helped you all. Most of our earliest contacts with cultures came in the guise of wise men and deities, and I urge you to search your records and make your own decisions.” The man slowly swept his gaze over the crowd, then smiled. “Thank you for your time, people of Delos. I will speak to you again soon.”

  The man nodded, then walked off the balcony and into the building, smiling the whole time.

  “And that’s why I hate people. Look at all those idiots buying into his little speech.” Adan said as they walked, though he had to admit, the guy put on a good show. Personally, whether he believed the rhetoric or not wasn’t the issue. He just wasn’t about to lie down and join up with somebody who told him he needed to do it or suffer the consequences. In spite of their messages of prosperity and community, the Primans were waging a campaign of join-or-die, and if they were truly fit to lead, they’d never have to resort to such practices. That was the end of the debate for him. Though, propping the Senator back up into power didn’t seem much better to Adan. Oh well, he didn’t get to make policy. He just got to shoot/steal/blow up whatever Confed told him to, and that was fine with him.

  “I’m just surprised people are so accepting of this religious revelation they’ve dropped on us,” Shadra mentioned. “I mean, here he says we’ve all spent some time in the same genetic blender, and people don’t seem to bat an eyelash.”

  “Well, look at this part of the galaxy,” countered Adan. “There are a lot of species that look remarkably similar to one another. Most people had just sort of taken it for granted all these years because it’s what we’re used to. Not everyone gets around the galaxy like you and I do. How many people from Delos do you think have met a Quipal?” The Quipal species, with their six multi jointed legs, exoskeleton, fur-covered torso, eyeless head studded with sensor antennae, and a speech that was based on smell, were about as alien as most could imagine. “Don’t get me wrong, I think they’re pretty nice people myself. Excellent cooks, as well. But I think people would have a harder time believing we’re related to them than to the Drisk or Enkarrans.”

  “I suppose,” Shadra replied. “Hell, we and the Talarans are practically identical. Even our home planets names sound similar.”

  “There are those that say that the Talarans split off from the Confederation’s original member worlds long ago for some reason or other,” Adan lectured. He was somewhat of an amateur historian, and would most often take the opportunity to conduct a miniature history lesson. “The problem is, when you’re talking about many thousands of years over an entire galaxy, there’s a lot for historians to document, and lots of interesting tidbits about things like that get lost.” After a moment of thought, Adan continued. “Maybe I should retire and be a historian.”

  He and Shadra strolled away from the downtown area, very slowly making their way back towards the Senator’s hidden headquarters. They always took at least forty-five minutes to get there, and never went the same way twice.

  About halfway there, Shadra spoke up.

  “I think we have a problem,” she said. “I’ve spotted a couple people moving with us, some of them I’ve spotted two or three times now. They’re using some sort of nonpublic spectrum for their comm devices, and they’re armed, too.”

  Adan didn’t have to ask how she knew, because first off, she was better at counter-surveillance then he was. It didn’t hurt that their nanite-enhanced hearing allowed them to occasionally eavesdrop on transmissions, or that their contacts allowed them to see far enough into the x-ray band to notice concealed weapons. Now that she mentioned it, he noticed an older man who he remembered seeing at the rally. They weren’t Primans at first sight, but a quick look at heart rate and blood chemistry through their contact lenses confirmed they were in fact Primans, apparently using prosthetics to appear human.

  “You think they made us at the rally?”

  “Not sure,” she replied. “But I’m pretty sure they’re following us and not out for a nice healthy walk. My comm is jammed, how about yours?”

  Adan had tried it the second Shadra mentioned the tail, hoping to warn the others with the Senator, but his ear patch only fed him static. They were being boxed in.

  “Yup. Ideas?” he asked.

  “We can change direction radically, see if they stick with us. Either way, we can’t go back to the hideout again. If they’re onto us, we can run for it or split up and see if at least one of us can get away.”

  “Or we could go down together in a destructive blaze of glory. Don’t sell us short.”

  She snuck a quick glance at him, about to chastise him for making light of the situation again, but realized he meant it. He didn’t want to become a hostage, experiment, or bargaining chip for the Primans. She didn’t, either, but wasn’t quite as ready to write off their hopes yet and wasn’t so cavalier about her physical well being.

  “I can’t believe you’re actually excited about this,” she finally said.

  “How can you tell I’m excited?”

  “Nanites. Your heart rate and blood pressure are different for excitement, physical activity, stress, that sort of thing. You’re very easy to read, actually.”

  “Nice to know I’m so transparent. Ok, you make the call.”

  “We hit the kill switch on the nanites, ditch the contacts and SAR hardware, then make a run for the nearest spaceport.”

  “Good enough,” Adan replied. He had accepted that they were going to most likely be pursued and captured, and ridding themselves of SAR technology was the first thing they needed to do. Closing his eyes for a second, he brought up an image he had memorized, then thought out a series of words he had chosen to go along with that image. That trigger caused his nanites to disassemble themselves; he’d be rid of
all traces of them in one minute flat.

  They turned a corner into an open air market area, and used the cover of the increased number of people to peel off their transparent patches by their ears that acted as comm receivers, translators, and allowed them to eavesdrop on others. They removed their contact lenses as well. Without signals from the nanites, the patches and contact lenses would biodegrade within minutes.

  “Well, we’re normal again,” Shadra said, the disappointment in her voice apparent.

  “We’re still not so normal,” Adan reassured. “We’re very special people.” They were nearing the edge of the market plaza, an large open space walled in by four tall buildings where small vendors set up shops of various kinds. The markets were rare in the organized, somewhat sterile atmosphere in the capital city, and certainly couldn’t hide the pair for long.

  “Still with us back there,” Shadra grumbled as she briefly scanned for their tail. “We’re busted.”

  Back out on the street on the opposite side of the market from where they entered, they now noticed a half dozen uniformed Priman troops headed towards them.

  Velk sat in his chair in his offices on Callidor reviewing the day’s intelligence briefing. With him were Representatives Tash and Dag, who each had offices of their own but were at present in Velk’s large outer offices going over the day’s take with him and comparing notes.