Koban: When Empires Collide Read online

  He broke from cover at full speed, slipped through the gate, and then seemingly did something stupid. He pushed on one of the well-oiled massive doors, and pushed it all the way open. After that brief delay, he ran down the wide lanes between barracks, into the center clearing, and headed for the Administrative building. He assumed he’d have to break in, or use the rooftop emergency hatch, if he could climb to the roof. Surprisingly, the front door was shattered and open, a detail he’d not known about, because he’d been focused on running the path-vines when that had happened.

  Now all he had to do was to open an unsecured safety locker and get what he came for. Messages from multiple Ragnar watchers vied for his attention. They informed him that the Drathor was being directed towards the compound. It’s rider certainly knew where he was.

  No one knew what he was doing in the compound, since he’d not locked the gate to keep the Drathor outside. If the Ragnar observers didn’t know, then the humans wouldn’t know either. He sat on a bench inside the front office of the Admin building, out of view of cameras, facing the broken door. All he had to do now was wait for the Drathor and its rider.

  ****

  “Come on, you big dumb ass! Follow your nose and eyes.” Sarge had projected both an image and a scent trail to the beast’s mind. It sure as Hell knew what its tormenter smelled like, and it should see him running towards the compound. It was also possible the visual trick had been used too many times, but the addition of his odor ought to spur it forward. He could always jump down and let it chase him for real, but that wouldn’t present the image of him in control that he wanted the Ragnar to see. However, the animal finally lowered its head, using its tail as balance, and started to lumber after the nice smelling treat it thought it saw. Sarge kept the inserted mental image just barely maintaining a gap, to keep the pursuit as fast as he could.

  He assumed he’d have to leap off to climb the wall to enter the compound, but when Athena told him the closest gate to him was half open, he knew he could ride his way inside. Cool. Not that he knew exactly what he’d do with the H-Rex once he found the Ragnar. He intended to end this personally, so there’d be no question of who finished this farce.

  The half open gate almost did what the Drathor, with its fist sized brain, hadn’t thought of when it had Sweet trees surrounding it. The gate was low, and Reynolds focused on not being scraped off the back of his galloping ride, as it ducked under the large cross beam. It lurched to the right to pass the still closed left side of the double gate, and the edge of the half opened right gate nearly pulled his rider off when it struck his right leg.

  Sarge, grabbing hair with his left hand to prevent being dislodged, lost contact with the nerve sensitive membrane over the beast’s ear, and his continuous projection of the target the Drathor was chasing instantly faded. Fortunately, the odor of recent numerous Ragnar occupants quickly replaced that stimulus, and the open lane between close spaced buildings directed its momentum to the center of the compound.

  When it reached the open assembly area at the center, the mixed and recent scents of humans and Ragnar nearly had it salivating, as it pivoted around, its black eyes peered down the four lanes that led to each gate, and it sought any sign of movement there or inside any of the armored windows. It was rewarded with movement at the dark opening at the front of the odd rock formation to its left. A furry representative of one of its usual tormenters on this island, stepped boldly into the light. Unlike those that had confronted it in the past, there were no high trees for it to scramble up to elude him. In fact, it stood there unmoving, and raised one of its front legs.

  That was when it’s skin started to itch, before it began to burn. It grunted in pain, and took a step towards this new prey, but the burning increased, and its jaw muscles suddenly clenched painfully tight, grinding teeth together to strongly one broke and others chipped. The prey shifted its front leg down slightly and to the side, and abruptly the Drathor’s left leg spasmed so powerfully and painfully that it kicked downward with force, tipping the seven-ton carnivore to its right side, and unbalanced, it started a fall which even violent twitches of its head and tail couldn’t counter.

  It hardly noticed the departure of the minor weight on its neck, as its rib cage painfully absorbed the impact, with both legs kicking wildly in agony, and the claws on its short arms clawed and tore at the burning flesh of its upper chest and neck. Its deep grunts had changed to a higher pitch, indicative of terror. Like any wild animal that lived surrounded by brush and forests, it feared fire, and it now felt as if it were on fire, and unable to flee.

  Sarge had landed on his feet, of course, and was pissed off. In Fotrol he shouted. “Leave ole Brownie alone.” He’d considered calling him Spot earlier, but the lack of any such blemishes spoiled that cuddly pet name.

  “Using a Debilitater is cheating anyway, you ape asshole.”

  Salmond had a rebuttal prepared for that accusation. “You were permitted to use what you found here on the island, so am I. You even had a chance to find this pistol yourself when you broke into this building, but you humans were too dumb or too lazy to do a proper search.”

  “Why would we search for a damned Debilitater in a camp that teaches basic survival skills? In a contest that claimed to be measuring our primitive skills against yours?”

  “You found a Drathor to use to your advantage, and I skillfully found a weapon to drive away the Drathor. Which you foolishly permitted to enter the camp by leaving the gates open. Do you think this is the first Drathor that ever got through a gate? If they refuse to chase trainees back outside, we drive them out with pain.”

  “That’s called a Drathor?” He looked at the panicked beast, now trying to use its head and tail as leverage, to roll its body over onto its belly, trying to get its legs under it again. It’s nerve endings still burned from the residual effects of the radiation’s stimulation, but it was regaining muscle control, now that the radiation was off.

  As the beast struggled to stand, Salmond lifted the weapon as a precaution. It featured a solid concave dish the size of a hand palm, with a half-inch conical antenna in the center. The dish was to prevent back radiation from reaching the user, and to maintain a cone shaped beam, with enough power to be effective out to about the length of a Skytouch tree, and a bit wider than the trunk of one of those forest giants at maximum useful range. It wasn’t a powerful area weapon, and had a limited supply of power in its oversized gun butt battery pack. Salmond had a spare power pack if needed.

  Seeing the ape’s action, Reynolds, warned him. “Let it go. It only wants to get away from here now.”

  “This is my home world. What do you know about these creatures? I studied them when I was in training here when I was young. They will attack if given the chance.”

  “I was in mental contact with it before I jumped off, as it fell over. It was terrified of being burned alive. That’s what that damned radiation does to nerves, you piece of shit. It thought its shaggy fur was on fire. You’re no better than the Thandol, who invented that filthy weapon. How about I take it away from you, shove it up your ass and pull the trigger, just for fun?”

  Salmond shifted the aim a dozen feet to the right, to cover the Kobani, but he could easily shift back to the Drathor if it moved in the wrong direction. “I don’t intend to kill it. These are rare, protected, and valuable animals. Unlike you.”

  It was only then that the Ragnar wondered how the Kobani was even on his feet. He’d rayed the Drathor right in the face, when it had turned towards him. He’d clearly seen the human’s legs showing around the sides of the beast’s neck, and his face was visible to the left side of the Drathor’s lowered head, because the human was leaning out to see Salmond, and had his left hand exposed, pressed to the side of that savage head.

  He thought the Kobani had been within at least peripheral exposure of the beam. After the first Ragnar meeting with this species, at one of their new colony worlds, humans had proven as susceptible to the radiation as a
ny race within the Empire. The Kobani, it had been discovered, were shown to be exceptionally sensitive to the radiation’s effects. It wasn’t known why they were so sensitive, but it was one reason the Ragnar weren’t overly concerned if they faced them in combat again on any of their inhabited worlds. Their entire population couldn’t all be shielded with their advanced body armor.

  They would make them twist and dance like the bodies observed on the recordings made by a Strangler on Zanzibar 2. That raid was one all Ragoons had watched with amusement, and amazement, at the improbable gyrations performed by the helpless, supposedly superior warriors. Even after they were dead husks, reacting to the radiation.

  Yet, this Kobani human, which Acting Force Commander Hitok had said was named Sarge, had just brazenly threatened him, in his own language, in full hearing and sight of his entire home world. He had to answer, and make this representative of a future subservient species learn his people’s place in the Empire, after they were annexed.

  As the Drathor regained its feet, it was positioned to see the open gate where it had entered, at the end of the lane of structures it had passed. It pivoted on shaky legs to face back down that lane, its claws on the short arms drawing blood through its chest fur, as they pawed where the fire seemed to be burning hottest. Just as the human implied that he knew it wanted to flee and not attack, the animal sluggishly started moving towards the gate, passing between Salmond and the human. This was a perfect opportunity to hurry the beast along with a beam aimed at the end of its tail, which would increase its pace due to the fresh addition of pain.

  It coincidentally would expose the Kobani to part of the cone of radiation on the opposite side of the Drathor’s tail. A convenient accident. Not an unpardonable error, because after all, there were seven more humans coming after him, a fate he would not survive. Therefore, this one enemy dying in a very painful manner by Debilitater ray wouldn’t make any difference to the outcome, and would generate a certain level of satisfaction in a large majority of observers. He couldn’t pretend to accidentally radiate them all, and still preserve his honor.

  Salmond, setting the stage for his action, shouted, “Move faster, you stupid smelly hairball. I have a human to gut and behead before his friends arrive to help him.”

  He raised the weapon and initially aimed at the creature’s muscled right flank, before seeming to think better of knocking it off its feet again, and shifted aim back to where the tail tapered to a wrist sized diameter. The one called Sarge was visible on the far side of the beast’s tail, as the trigger button was pressed, his eyes widening as he saw what was about to happen. He reached behind him for the handle of some weapon that Salmond hadn’t fully seen, strapped onto the outside of his small back pack. He was fast, but not compared to the velocity of the radiation unleashed his direction.

  An incongruently high pitched screech came from the massive Drathor, as a deeper throaty yell came from the far smaller Kobani human. There were physical responses from both animals. The Drathor leaped ahead and reached its stride in several steps as it fled, whipping the tip of its burning tail.

  The human’s yell cut off, but either he had launched himself forward before the beam robbed him of muscle control, or a leg spasm had done it for him. He hurtled over the Drathor’s tail tip as it flowed past him, but his arc wasn’t going to carry him but half the distance to Salmond before striking the ground.

  The Ragnar released the trigger button and dropped the pistol from his right hand, and reached across his body to draw the long knife from the sheath at his left hip. He’d first gut him from crotch to sternum, and then grasp his overly short top fur with his left hand, to raise his head to expose the throat, and deliver a clean decapitating blow. He would look in the pain filled eyes of his victim, who would be fully aware that he was about to die. There would be at least one Ragnar victory today.

  As the body was about to hit the ground, the head and neck turned downwards and hit the dirt first, causing the body to naturally curl behind them, and roll forward as the shoulders and back came down. Salmond rushed forward to be ready for the disemboweling slash as his opponent came to rest on his back, feet splayed towards his killer.

  The limp body had more momentum than expected, because when the heels of his boots struck the ground, the paralyzed form lifted in a half tuck position, its right arm slinging in a swift forward arc, releasing a blurred and reflective metallic object.

  The spinning object thudded heavily into Salmond’s sternum. Looking down in stunned surprise, the pain not yet registering, he saw the wide blade of a short-handled battle axe imbedded deep into his chest.

  Sarge stepped close and grabbed the hand holding the long knife with his own right hand. Reaching up to grasp the taller ape’s top hair with his left, he looked in the ape’s shock filled eyes. “What were you going to do with this knife, after you had me paralyzed and helpless?” The image of the Ragnar’s intent was still clear in the Mind Tap image, Salmond’s offset heart having been missed by the ax’s deep bite.

  When the ape tried to say something, blood and bubbles were all that passed its lips, the centrally located lung having been gashed open. However, his final thoughts were clear.

  Speaking aloud, more for the for the audio pickup than for the dying Ragnar, Sarge said, “We’re immune to Debilitater rays now. Did you think we’d not do something about that? Just show up here on your doorstep, unprotected?”

  Sensing the fading mind, and knowing what had been intended for him, Reynolds shook his head. “I don’t see a need to gut you, not with an axe in your chest, but you won’t need your head where you’re going, and I need to complete the final act you had planned for me.”

  He plucked the long knife from the hand he’d been using for mental contact, and with his left hand holding the head up by its hair, an easy but powerful swing ended Salmond’s pain and suffering, which went far deeper than his physical wounds.

  Holding the dripping head out, Sarge looked at the camera under the second-floor eave of the administrative building. “Your brave and loyal team of eight have paid the ultimate sacrifice for their race. Learn their lesson well, so they will not have died needlessly. We did not enjoy these acts of killing, but there was no easy way to prove to you how disastrous for your species it will be, if you join the Thandol in attacking the Federation.

  “Because Kobani are also becoming more numerous in the forces of the Planetary Union, I don’t think they will be an easier target for Empire forces, and they might be less forgiving of transgressions against them. We Federation Kobani have a government with nonhuman citizens, who vote on and influence our war decisions, and those nonhuman leaders are less aggressive than are our human representatives. The PU is comprised entirely of humans, and humans are notoriously vindictive and unpredictable.

  “Thad Greeves will arrive at this compound soon, and he was sent as our soldier-diplomat, not me. He just informed me there will be a final meeting with your two Sovereigns, and with you Commander Hitok, in the plaza.

  “There’s no need to send a shuttle for us. We’ll join you there on our own when we call for our Scout. If the Thandol foolishly release Commander Thond alive, you will regain your most formidable adversary against the Thandol. Their naval forces are about to become weaker, and you already know they have useless ground forces.”

  ****

  Hitok was in a foul mood. He’d selected six of his team personally, and knew them. Two others he knew of, and had accepted recommendations from his six selectees. It had all been done in a rush, and there had been no shortage of candidates, but now he felt that somehow, an unperceived selection bias on his part had placed his choices at a disadvantage, which had cost them their lives.

  Their small ship, which they called a Scout, had abruptly lifted, and started flying in the direction of the central ridge above high City, and the island on the other side of the landmass. The Ravager crew had automatically locked on the craft in tracking mode, which resulted in the human shi
p activating stealth. That independent action was also grating on Hitok, but they’d just heard that the Kobani leader intended to have another meeting in the plaza.

  Grudfad, who was reviewing the words spoken before their last champion died a gruesome death. “Commander, the one called Sarge told Salmond that he’d been in mental contact with the Drathor. He told him the beast thought it’s fur was on fire.”

  “So? We know the rays cause that sensation.” Hitok suddenly actually parsed what he’d just been told.

  “Braslat! He somehow frilled the beast, like a ripper did to us on Tanner’s World at the truce meeting. But how? Was a stealthed ripper over there with them? I’d not miss that unique scent if one were ever near me again.”

  “Commander, what of his final words to Salmond, when he said, ‘I need to complete the final act you had planned for me.’ He knew what was intended.”

  Hitok did a brief leg squat, in agreement. “He somehow knew Salmond had sworn to us that he would gut and behead the one called Sarge, before the other humans arrived. There was no time for even a stealthed ripper to have been the conduit for those thoughts, and our memory enhancer transmissions use unbreakable quantum keys. That human knew the thoughts of Salmond! Learned his thoughts when he was in physical contact. What else has this dangerous species learned from us that we did not wish them to know?””

  “Look, Sire.” He pointed at a camera image. “The Scout has just appeared in the compound. They must have use their atmospheric Jump capability to arrive so fast.” A distant clap of thunder arrived, confirming they had vacated a Scout sized hole in the atmosphere over the central ridge, which had just slammed closed.