Warrior Chronicles 3: Warrior's Realm (11 page)

After several minutes they passed the arena were Cort and Jeff Pence’s squad first met the rest of the Collaborative. Cort thought,
We’ve come a long way in a very short time. What do you think is going to happen, Bazal?

Indeed we have, Cortland. I do not know the answer to your question. Lap is with his advisors. The four of them are discussing which flora samples to send to Mars for farming. Food crops will be sent first.

Entering the administrative complex, the group moved through the main building, drawing the attention of dozens of species. Pence realized it was the first time humans had entered the facility, much less humans that were armed and armored.

“Bazal, is there enough room for all of us in Lap’s office?”

“There will only be enough room for four of us, including myself, Jeff.”

Cort said, “Okay, Jeff and Lex and Tim with me. Bazal, I would prefer you wait outside and just listen to everyone. I don’t want anyone in that room knowing you are here. Your team will stay with you, the rest of you surround the room in pairs to the best of your ability. Keep your IR going so you can track the people in the room.”

Once everyone was in place, Cort stepped into the crowded room. Jeff and Lex immediately moved to the other two exits with their MATs at the ready. Lap looked up, saw the stars on Cort’s shoulders and said, “General, this is a surprise. What can I do for you, sir?”

“Speaker Lap, I’m sorry to disturb you but we need to talk.”

“Of course,” Lap said. Turning to the Blatterians in the room he said, “Will you excuse us please?”

Addison held up one armored hand and said, “No, the six of them need to stay.”

“Very well, General,” Lap replied. “Now, what is the matter?”

“Lap, the Blatterian contingent of your staff may have been compromised.”

Something picked at Lex’s mind, but he couldn’t figure it out. Something was definitely wrong though. He thumbed the safety on his MAT. Cort and Pence noted that Lex’s weapon was now charged and ready to fire. Pence did the same, as did the rest of the team. Cort also sent an alert to Speral as well as Captain Platt aboard the
Taurus
.

“What do you mean, General?”

Cort placed himself between Lap and the rest of his staff. “The Federation conducted an operation that left us in possession of several enemy bodies. They are genetically compatible to your species.”

Lap tilted his head. “Explain that phrase please, General.”

Lex looked back and forth across the Blatterians. Finally he thought,
Bazal, are you getting anything from the Speaker’s staff?

All three of them are nervous but they are not deceptive, Lex.

Okay, if you say
. . . Lex keyed his comm, “General, Bazal reports a total of four Blatterians in this room! He can’t sense three of them!”

Cort raised his own weapon and told Lap to step outside. “Why?” Lap responded.

“Now, Speaker! Leave!” Lap was startled by the sudden threat in Cort’s voice. Once he was out, Cort spoke again. “Three of you are enemies of the Collaboration. I’m going to find out which ones. One at a time, you will exit the door next me.”

Turning to Lex, Cort commed, “Good catch, Lex. We all should have caught it, but you were the one that did.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Cort placed a silver disk on the wall above the door. “This device will tell me what I need to know.” It was actually a coaster from Argyre, but Cort didn’t want the insects, friendly or enemy, to know that Bazal could not detect some of them.

One at a time, the insectoids stepped through the door. Two of them had to be pushed through, but in the end, Cort had the three spies separated under guard while he questioned the others to make sure they weren’t complicit in placing the spies on Lap’s staff. Bazal listened to the interrogations and cleared the three innocent staff members. Then it was time to interrogate the spies.

--

Once the prisoners were moved to a larger, more secure location, Cort began. “We need to know all we can about your people. That means two of you are going to be interrogated. If your answers differ I will kill you. If you don’t answer, I will torture you. The one that is not interrogated will die much sooner, because we need to know about you biologically too, so that one will be vivisected.”

After Cort’s words were translated into clicking vibrations and sank in, two of the three aliens visibly shuddered. Cort looked at the third. “You are the tough one, I take it. I’m going to enjoy working on you.” Turning back to the other two he said, “The two of you will be interrogated. Your friend will be vivisected. Do you wish to watch that procedure or begin the interrogations now? What am I saying? Of course you want to watch,” Cort smiled.

Cort sent his team out of the room after securing the stoic pseudo-Blatterian. His companions were also secured, facing each other, with their leader strapped to a table between them. Without speaking to any of them, Cort went to work. In war, Cortland Addison was a practical being. First he ran every scan and medical test he or his team could think of. He drew fluids and scraped tissue and snipped pieces of carapace-like skin from the insectoid.

He looked from one to the other of the observers and said, “The three of you have been instrumental in the deaths of entire species as well as whole planets.” Cort walked to a nearby table and picked up one of the tools he had printed a few hours before. The hammer had one squared head and one rounded head. The crack of the rounded peen on the hand-like graspers at the end of one of the being’s eight legs shattered the brief silence. 

Without speaking, Cort repeated the blow on the next segment of the creature’s arm. He did not speak. He simply and efficiently inflicted pain. His only communication with the beings were the looks he gave other two, in between assaults on their companion’s body. Once he had worked his way to the root of the first limb, he flipped the hammer over in his hand and worked his way back down the shattered appendage. Then he moved to another limb.

The shrill chirping and clicking noises coming from his target lessened occasionally. During these quiet moments, Cort paused and cleaned the heads of the hammer, or sipped from a glass of water. All the while he looked between the other two insects. Neither was free enough to turn its head, and with only nictitating membranes, they couldn’t even close their eyes to the horror in front of them. One was clicking softly, its body shivering as it watched. The other had lost control of its bowels. After its first three limbs were shattered, so did the tough one strapped to the table.

Over the course of two hours, Cort destroyed all eight of the spy’s limbs. The last appendages he focused on were the four antenna-like structures on the head. After another water break, he began snapping each section off, as if he were cracking crab legs with Angela on their deck in California over three centuries before. Then he removed the broken limbs from the table and wiped it clean, before he polished the blooded hammer again and set it back in place on the tray of tools. After picking up a pair of heavy scissors, he returned to his prey. The horrible clicks and chirps began again when the shears started working on retracted genitals.

As Cort began removing pieces of the prothorax, Bazal interrupted him.

Cortland, do you have a moment?

Not now, Bazal.

Cortland, I can hear him.

If you don’t like it, don’t listen.

No, I mean I can sense him. I could not before.

Then it is their skin that hides them from you. Good to know. I am going back to work now.

He would answer your questions now. You do not need to kill him.

Yes, I do. Bazal, this is my realm. You yourself said that. If I do not kill him, the others will not know how serious I am.

They can see it, Cortland. I do not need my abilities to know that. Even your people are horrified.

Then they are of no use to me, and will need to be replaced.

Must it be this way, Cortland?

Bazal, this isn’t a debate. Read me. You know I am not doing this because I want to. This is simply the most efficient method to ensure the information I gather is accurate. Please excuse me now.

Four hours later, the creature finally died. Cort dropped its twitching aortic chamber into the splayed carcass and slowly wiped his gauntlets off. When they were finally clean, he looked between the corpse’s companions and said, “Which of you would like to be questioned first?”

Through the translator in his ear, Cort heard, “What would you like to know?”

Arygyre Military Headquarters

“After interrogating them, I gave them the option of a quick death or having a section of exoskeleton removed from their head. Both chose the latter. Currently they are still on Government World, but we need to move them to a permanent prison.”

“Why did you force them to accept the Formvar plates, sir?” Admiral Jones asked.

“I didn’t force them, I gave them a choice.”

Cort was thankful for the distraction when Admiral Book asked, “What about bringing them here? The scientists would love it.”

“I considered that, but until I am more certain they cannot be tracked, I don’t want them in this system. I don’t know if our location is secure, but I’m not going to tempt fate.” Cort didn’t add that, thanks to Bazal being able to listen to the insectoids after the Formvar plates were put in their heads, he was confident the enemy did not know the location of Mars or Earth. He didn’t share the fact because he knew Book would push the issue and learn Bazal’s secret.

Looking around the room at his
War Council
, Cort thought about the five people with him. Kimberly was there because he knew she would call him out if he was wrong. He wasn’t sure if any of the others would. Admirals Jones and Book were there are well. Lex Sike was another warrior, so Cort kept him close these days. Chief Rhodes was the last of the group. Cort had relied on Rhodes since the beginning of the Federation, and because he was not an Addison, the man offered a different perspective than the others. Lately though, Cort could feel him pulling away.

Kim said, “I could house them on Solitude.”

“Absolutely not, Kimberly. I will not turn your refuge into a penal colony.”

“Okay,” JJ said. “Let’s table their housing for now. They are secure on Government World, and Jeff Pence already has a heavy company of our Marines there to keep them that way. I think we need to move on to what you found out, General.”

“Agreed. First, their history. Lap’s people sent out colonies several thousand years ago. Several of the colonies were presumed lost for various reasons. One particular group was thought to have succumbed to radiation poisoning. Apparently a few lived by building crystalline structures that filtered out enough of the radiation to allow them to adapt over time. They realized they could manipulate crystal propagation using some sort of tachyon tech that our prisoners do not fully understand.”

Cort sipped water and continued, “They have had enough practice that they are now able to use tachyons quite effectively. So much so that they can use the Sagittarius-A black hole to relay signals throughout the galaxy. They send a signal through the black hole and it is relayed to a target planet. I don’t believe they have attempted the process in other galactic arms. Once a planet is converted, they wait a while, then add nanites to the planet to convert it according to their needs. They dump bodies and waste there to restart the ecosystem, then they move in. Currently they have colonized over four thousand planets in this manner.”

“It’s time to give them a dose of their own medicine.” Turning to the admirals, Cort said, “Are all three
Remington
-class ships ready?”

Book answered, “Yes, sir. The
Ithaca
just finished trials and the
Winchester
has been waiting for a job.”