“Okay,” whispered Grepk. “Now's your chance.”
The Marines had teamed up with Trebor and his agents to experiment with Creddik's unique puppeteering abilities in the field.
Every day for the past week or so they had slipped out into the hills north of Kerucester and patrolled the north fringes of the city. They kept an eye out for isolated groups of beast soldiers, hiding in the light vegetation that grew up around the homes of the city’s outer limits.
For the first few days they saw nothing, a few times after that they saw some roving groups of more disciplined looking infantry of a slimmer build carrying long, pointed spears. They were more similar to the Drakmundi Grepk and the Marines had met on the invading train than to the beast soldiers that seemed to serve as a kind of shock troop. If anything, these soldiers were smaller than even the tall, metal-clad Drakmundi they’d first met. However, not wanting to try their luck against an unknown enemy, the small band of guerillas held their fire.
Today they finally saw a pack of four beast soldiers out on their own. A slender, pointed tongue flicked out of Creddik's mouth, licking his scaly lips. He looked nervously from behind a line of brush at the hulking soldiers.
“Now or never, Creddik,” whispered Trebor impatiently.
“This could go bad a hundred different ways,” retorted Creddik. “Let me do this my way.”
“We're ready whenever,” said Grepk. “Take your time.”
The psychic nodded and turned his attention back to the beasts, concentrating on the largest one. He sent out tendrils of T-waves, boring into the beast’s mind. Just like the night of the initial Drakmundi attack, he felt a massive wave of feedback, threatening to thwart his attack outright. He was prepared for it this time and squelched the wave, pressing his attack. The first line of defense crushed, he moved onto the next problem; a digital lock sunk into the biological mind. The minds of Robots were difficult to break into with telepathic abilities. The beasts seemed to have a kind of robotic mind guarding over their biological brain, and one that actively resisted telepathic invaders. A headache built in Creddik’s skull as he concentrated on the yet-unaware soldier, but the pain burst in a crescendo and began to fade when he broke through the digital defense. The sensation was slightly different from the first time, almost like his telepathic fingers felt a kind of static shock as the circuits of the digital mind were shattered instead of simply bypassed.
The beast soldier suddenly stiffened, standing up and looking around, his eyes wide. This was the hard part of puppeteering a target with witnesses: gaining complete control before the target’s words or actions put others on alert.
Doubling down on his attack, Creddik threw all the mental energy he could muster into overwhelming the beast’s brain. He could feel his knees shaking already as the exhaustion of forcing his will onto a powerful, well-defended mind, but his control was complete now.
“I’ve got him,” said Creddik, his voice strained.
“Alright,” said Grepk. “You know what to do next.”
Creddik made his puppet walk casually away from the others, which did not appear to raise any kind of suspicion. With their backs turned to him, they didn’t notice when he grabbed a large stone and yanked it out of the clay. He walked up behind his erstwhile allies, raised the stone overhead and brought it down with a sickening crunch on the base of the closest beast’s neck. Never knowing what had happened, it fell to the ground without so much as crying out. The other two turned towards the noise, one of them just in time to see a boulder rush towards their face. It was the last thing it would ever see. The final beast roared in a confused rage and rushed its puppeteered comrade. Not yet recovered from the second swing of the boulder, there was no time to defend against the first attack. Creddik let the boulder fall as his prey staggered from the blow and then whirled him around to backhand the other beast.
Using suppressed weapons for stealth’s sake, the Marines and RTS agents fired on the non-puppeteered beast whenever they had a shot, trying not to damage the test subject if it could be avoided. Between the slicing claws and barrage of firearms, the beast soon fell. Muted cheers rose up from the victorious guerillas.
“Bring him this way,” said Trebor, pulling out a hefty-looking injector. “Hopefully there’s some soft tissue in the mouth or nose where we can inject the tranquil-”
Trebor stopped speaking the moment he heard angry voices coming from behind the nearest building. He could make out any words, only hearing strange, lilting syllables. His suspicions were confirmed when a unit of eight Drakmundi infantry stepped around the side of the nearest house, their heads turning this way and that, snapping over to the bloody scene of three dead beast soldiers and their gore-splattered comrade.
“We need to go,” whispered Grepk.
“The subject!” protested Trebor.
“No way I can maintain control through another fight,” said Creddik, his voice attenuated with effort. “But I can cover our escape.”
“Do it,” said Grepk.
The beast turned towards the squad of soldiers and charged them. Confused, they raised their spears to defend themselves, but the beast mowed through them like so many dry stalks of wheat. Two were dead before they hit the ground, claws slashing their throats. The others regrouped, stabbing at the rogue beast soldier with their spears.
“We need to leave now,” whispered Grepk hoarsely from their position in the brush. “Everyone, start falling back.”
“Then this will all be for nothing,” growled Trebor.
“I'm not taking the risk,” replied Grepk. “And I'm in command in the field. I'm staying with Creddik until everyone else is clear. Darvik, Yellup, you go first. Keshri and Krum-Bahk, fall in behind them. Trebor, you're with us until I say so. Go.”
Meanwhile, Creddik continued fighting the Drakmundi soldiers through the beast. A couple more lay dead at his feet. The remaining soldiers backed away, using their spears to keep the beast at a distance. One of the soldiers put a hand to their temple and a jewel on the center of his forehead began to glow, erupting into a gout of flame that enveloped the rogue beast.
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Grepk looked nervously behind himself, and saw that everyone but Trebor and Creddik had begun to make their way back into the hills towards the entrance to the Undercity.
“Your turn, Trebor,” whispered Grepk harshly.
Trebor looked at him sidelong, but said nothing as he turned away and followed the others. Grepk turned to Creddik, who was starting to pale and shake.
“I- I can’t hold on much longer,” said the psychic.
“Let’s go then,” replied Grepk, putting a hand on Creddik’s shoulder.
Creddik nodded and severed the connection, his body slumping as he stopped exerting himself. Still hearing the roars and screams of the skirmish that had taken on a life of its own, they slipped back between the rocks and vegetation, disappearing into the hills.
***
The Bombard skimmed across the upper atmosphere of Hittania, Rewna’s star tree following alongside. Thus far, the scanners hadn’t picked up any sign of the Koomites, but they were still some distance from the mountains where they believed the cultists were hiding out.
Raivyn stood by a viewport, looking down on the planet as the ground slowly drifted by. The foothills that Fort Bog Iron sat in had long since given way to wide open prairies of tall golden grasses, broken up here and there by rocky purple outcroppings.
“It’s quite the planet,” said D’Jarric, walking up beside her. “I see why you’re so taken by it.”
“Hmm,” answered Raivyn, unsure what to say. She didn’t feel like sharing her thoughts at the moment.
“It’s special to you and Vanbrook, isn’t it?” pressed D’Jarric. Evidently he had some inklings about Raivyn’s thoughts, and he clearly wanted to talk about them.
Raivyn let out a light sigh. “Yes, I suppose it is.”
“We’ve all been rooting for you two for some time,” said D’Jarric with a smile. “Even Doc, though he’s never said as much out loud, of course.”
Raivyn arched an eyebrow. “I have been wondering, how is Doc feeling these days, with all the revelations concerning the Coreborn?”
“Don’t change the subject,” scolded D’Jarric with a chuckle.
She hung her head in resignation. “Alright, say what you came to say. Share with me the wisdom of Solaran romantic culture.”
“We do not have ‘romances’ as biological, and even other varieties of electromagnetic beings do,” said D’Jarric. “But we do know about love and friendship. You are angry with Vanbrook for his secret war with Lawbine, are you not?”
“The two of them…” she trailed off, balling her hands into fists. “I really thought both of them knew better.”
“You told Lawbine as much, I take it?” he asked.
“I told Lawbine it had been over between us for years now, and nothing he could do was going to change that,” said Raivyn, her face reddening with anger and embarrassment. She couldn’t say she wanted to talk about it, but telling someone else was therapeutic and D’Jarric was just the right person to listen. “I told him he was welcome to talk to me and visit whenever he liked as long as he understood that. If that wasn’t good enough, he could shove off and not bother reaching out again.”
“And what have you told Vanbrook?” asked D’Jarric.
“Not much,” admitted Raivyn bitterly.
“It seems you’ve both been fairly miserable,” said D’Jarric with a nod. “But you still care for him?”
Raivyn’s face darkened, but she said nothing.
“Let’s assume you do,” said D’Jarric, holding his hands up as if to indicate that he meant no harm. “You humans. Your mortal lives are so short. How much of it do you wish to spend in bitterness?”
Raivyn took a breath, as if to start on a long rant, when the public comms burst to life.
“All crew to stations,” said Captain Yulun’s voice. “All crew to stations. We’ve spotted the enemy.”
***
“I’m really glad to have you back,” said Dekken, his voice full of apology.
Hunt turned from the commander’s console and looked at the Chief Engineering Officer, giving him a questioning look. “I’m glad to be back.”
“I, uh, really didn’t want the job,” said Dekken.
Hunt smiled wanly. “It really doesn’t matter if you did or not. At least not to me. Or the Navy. The only person I resent in all of this is myself.”
“Well, you shouldn’t,” said Dekken. “Everyone knows you did what was right, even if it wasn’t politically prudent.”
“Being politically prudent is part of the job,” said Hunt. “And doing what’s right, as an Admiral, largely consists of doing as you’ve been told.”
“You had to choose between two wrong actions, then,” said Dekken. “And you chose the one that saved lives instead of saving face.”
“Thank you, Dekken,” said Hunt, turning back to his console. “Now, I believe it’s time to welcome our guests.”
He looked out from the bridge to see the massive aperture on the top of Tra-Kirakna’s bubble opening, allowing the Drihn into the city. The TalpiTech destroyer was a sight to see, and Hunt was glad the Hrudukites had sent Hrake to stand with them, and he only hoped they wouldn’t regret it.
Walking down out of the bridge and onto the airfield, Hunt and Dekken’s uniforms were plastered to their chests by the wind coming off the Drihn’s thrusters. They stood waiting for a moment until Hrake emerged from the ship, walking down the ramp to greet them, Dhraka, Ytriv, and Vritik in tow.
“Admiral Hunt, I am happy to see you restored to your rightful place,” said Hrake in his warm, booming voice.
“Captain Hrake, it is good to see you as well,” replied Hunt. “The Republic appreciates this show of support by the people of Gred.”
“We hope to help however we may,” replied Hrake.
“To that end,” said Dekken, “we are hoping to borrow your young friends here.” He indicated Ytriv and Vritik. “We’ve been pouring over everything Griffonia has been able to send us about Drakmundi weapons and what defenses have and haven’t worked. We want to put together a task force to study the data and make practical improvements to our tech and strategies.”
Ytriv and Vritik’s grins were growing steadily as Dekken spoke. They turned to each other and then to Dekken, saying in unison, “When do we start?”
***
He woke up for the first time in a long time, maybe ever. All he saw was bursts of glowing orange and all he felt was the pain of fire. He roared, lashing out against the soldiers surrounding him. Spears splintered and flesh rent under his strong limbs and sharp claws. Everything was fire and blood and pain and screams.
Despite his singed hair and the flames that threatened his flesh, he reached out, grabbing the psychic soldier who persecuted him with fire by the head, crushing his skull. The soldier went limp and the fire stopped.
The remaining soldiers backed away warily. When the rogue beast soldier didn’t chase them, they turned and ran from the spot. Snorting and grunting, the wounded beast looked around at the remains of the soldiers that lay all around him. He considered taking one of the corpses with him for a meal, but whatever it was that had woken up and brought him back to conscious thought rejected the idea.
He was tired and in desperate pain, and the rocky hills looked more like home than the charred cityscape behind him. Shaking his head, the awakened beast wandered off into the hills.