Chapter The Fall of the Capital Enclave (3)

Chapter The Fall of the Capital Enclave (3)

“So,” Tawnie asked as she peered at the long black sarcophagus-like object, “what are you, anyway?”

“Something so far beyond your pathetic exist-” one of the Kalent started to hiss.

“Me?” the object replied, “nothing much, just another Kalent.”

“Imma gonna call bullshit on that,” Tawnie snickered.

“How dare you speak to him that way?!?” one of the Kalent attendants shrieked.

“You what me to what?” the object replied, deeply amused.

Colonel Laurent walked into the room.

“What do we have here?” he asked Tawnie.

“Oh, just a really pissed off fish plate and this other thing,” she replied poking the black sarcophagus.

“Hello there,” the sarcophagus said cheerfully. “Are you the human in charge?”

“That I am,” the colonel replied, “I’m-”

“We demand that you release us immediately!” one of the Kalent shouted. “Your whole species is-”

“I would appreciate it if you would allow me to speak, please,” the sarcophagus said calmly.

“Yes, my lord!” the Kalent said bowing respectfully. “Sorry, my lord!”

“Oooo!” Tawnie gushed, “My Lord!” she exclaimed as she dipped into a mock-curtsy and then grinned at the Kalent. “You probably shouldn’t have told us that, chief.”

“My status is perhaps overly inflated,” the sarcophagus replied with a chuckle. “However I must inform you that the Kalent people hold me in very high regard. While my passing would not impact things operationally their emotional response would be disproportionate to my actual value.”

“Right,” the colonel replied. “You’re free to go.”

“What?!?” Tawnie exclaimed. “We have ourselves a gold-tier hostage here, colonel! We can’t-”

“What we can’t do is have the Kalent screaming for our blood,” the colonel replied. “We are here for The Locus, not some fish-king.”

“What are your intentions concerning The Locus?” the sarcophagus asked sounding concerned for the first time.

“What do you think, Goldie?” Tawnie grinned. “The Federation wants to erase us so we thought we would return the favor.”

The Kalent started to look at each other nervously.

“Our ultimate goal is yet to be decided,” the colonel said firmly looking over at Tawnie. “Our main objective was to secure a site suitable for our final stand. If the Ascension is to incinerate us, let them try to do it here. I assume the actual storage drives are well protected, yes? Even the Federation is not so foolish as to have their archive easily destroyed.”

“That they are,” the sarcophagus replied. “The entire facility can be burned to the ground and those drives will be perfectly safe.”

“An underground bunker?”

“Yes, deep underground.”

“Thought so,” the colonel replied. “And you can gain access?”

“I can.”

“Then you will do that for us before you go.”

“No,” the sarcophagus replied.

“I think you might not fully grasp the situation in which you find yourself,” the colonel said meaningfully.

“Oh I do, believe me,” the sarcophagus replied. “You are humans. What you will do when properly motivated is clearly documented. However, no matter how much value the Kalent ascribe to my life, I ascribe even more value to the archives. I will not help you breach the vault.”

“Oh we have ways of making you,” Tawnie said malevolently.

“You so much as touch him...” one of the Kalent hissed, “and we will annihilate every single member of your entire species!”

“No, my child,” the sarcophagus said with a chuckle, “You will try to annihilate them. The humans are worse than a cancer. If you seek to ‘cure’ the galaxy then you must be able to eliminate every single cell but unlike cancer the humans will become exponentially more dangerous the fewer than remain. It is not an endeavor that we wish to start, regardless of what happens to me. Even if we do succeed the final cost will be more than we wish to pay. If you have never respected my wisdom before or will never again do it now. We do not want to play genocide with the humans. They are better at it.”

“Regardless of whether or not you decide to help us,” the colonel said, “you will be physically unharmed. As I’ve said, we have no desire to add to our already considerable troubles. However, the ultimate fate of your precious archives depends on your cooperation.”

“Excuse me?”

“If you assist us, then the fate of the archives and everything in it depends upon The General,” the colonel said with a smile. “If you refuse we will still attempt to gain entry and if we do, I will do as much damage as I possibly can.”

“... And this, my children, is why we do not wish to make an enemy of the humans,” the sarcophagus said after a few seconds.

The sarcophagus fell silent.

“I have a counter-proposal,” the sarcophagus said after a few moments. “You leave the archives untouched and I remain. The Federation will not throw so much as a milliwatt at this structure as long as I am inside. Should they do so, It will be their heads, not yours, that will be sought by my brothers and sisters. I can see to that.”

“My Lord!” one of the Kalent exclaimed in terror.

“I have spoken,” the sarcophagus said firmly. “and I’ve transmitted the situation to my ship. If the Federation strikes this place, they strike me and therefore strike the Kalent.”

“Now isn’t that a kettle of fish!” Tawnie chuckled.

“You can bargain for the archives,” the colonel said thoughtfully, “but only the archives. Anything else in here is fair game.”

“Including all the personal information for the Federation citizens!” Tawnie exclaimed.

“What is this now?” the colonel said looking daggers at Tawnie.

“Oh... yeah...” Tawnie said sheepishly. “I forgot to tell you, the Federation keeps all of the census data here too including genetic info. Um...”

“Criminals...” the colonel said with a chuckle. “That information now belongs to The General. Tawnie, start grabbing it and give the only copy to us.”

“You’re worse than my mom,” she grinned. “Ok, fish-stick, where are the master terminals?”

“Assist her,” the sarcophagus said to one of his attendants.

“My Lord?!?”

“A human has a loaded gun pointed at the archives. Have you not read what they did to their own ‘Library of Alexandria’? Give. Them. What. They. Want.”

“Yes, My Lord,” the Kalent said glumly. “This way... human...” it hissed and then walked off.

Tawnie, with a giggle and a skip, followed.

***

“Excellent, Colonel!” Jessica exclaimed happily as she looked at Colonel Laurent’s image on one of her archaic flat-panel displays. “Once again you amaze me!”

“Credit where credit is due,” the colonel replied, “One of the locals suggested the target.”

“Still, you got there and took it!” she replied. “And what is this... thing... you have captured?”

“I have not seen exactly what it is,” the colonel replied. “I only know that the Kalent seem to nearly worship it. Our scanners can’t penetrate its container but I’m almost certain that it is not the same species. The dimensions of the bot don’t match. It’s likely much larger than any Kalent we have ever recorded.”

“There is much we don’t know about those eels. Do you have an interrogator with you?”

“Sadly, none have survived, ma’am. Only seventeen of us remain.”

“The fact that any of you do is a testament to your leadership, Philippe,” Jessica replied. “Wait. How did you take The Locus with only seventeen men?”

“The place was nearly deserted when we arrived. The only occupants were fifteen Kalent and that strange creature. I suspect they had already ‘taken’ the facility prior to our arrival, ma’am. All we had to do was breach the doors and walk in. We didn’t have to fire a single shot.”

“Well be sure to thank them then,” Jessica laughed.

“To ensure their cooperation I had to promise to leave the actual archives untouched, ma’am, but they have given up everything else, including The Clock. From what our hacker tells us if we destroy the clock, we can disrupt the entire Federation hyperspatial network including banking and their Fed Net. It will cause chaos! It seems to be a no-brainer but I wanted to consult with you first, to coordinate the blow if nothing else.”

“And I’m glad that you did!” Jessica replied. “Yes, we will definitely want to take out that clock but we need to time it very carefully.”

“Yes, ma’am. With that critter in our pocket the Feds will not attack us. We should be able to hold this position as long as necessary but as you know, nothing is certain.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” Jessica laughed ruefully. “trust me. Just hang on as long as you can. If it looks like you can’t hold the line, destroy The Clock but for God’s sake give me as much of a heads up as you can.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You shouldn’t have to hold for long,” Jessica said and then paused. “I hope that I’m wrong. I really do,” she added sadly.

“Ma’am?”

“Nothing, Just grab as much information as you can and sit tight.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

***

Thousands of humans crowded into Avalon Park, the largest open area in Capital City’s Porkietown and more arrived every minute.

Music soon broke out as bands set up and started to play. People started singing porkie spirituals and folk-music, songs like “Amazing Grace” and “We Shall Overcome” were soon sung by thousands.

Councilman Andrews smiled despite the terrors of the day. It was like one of those peace demonstrations from the history books!

Food trucks soon appeared, handing out meals free of charge soon to be followed by members of a dozen races all hauling in food and water.

“This is amazing!” a glittering blue jova exclaimed as he walked up.

“It takes a lot to break a porkie, Klkon,” the councilman said with pride. “Thanks again for all of your people’s help.”

“Think nothing of it,” the Jova said twitching its scales causing colors to shimmer across its body. “Feed the hungry. Slake those who thirst. Shelter those who are scoured by the sands. This is the way of our people, Andrews. So it is and so it shall always be.”

“And we are grateful, but you should get out of here.”

“As it takes a lot to break a porkie,” Klkon chuckled, “it takes a lot to scare off a Jova. Besides, this is a peaceful gathering.”

“Hopefully,” the councilman replied.

“You are afraid of this turning into a riot?”

“No,” the councilman replied, “that’s not what I’m afraid of...”

***

“Why aren’t you at the gathering?” the Jova major asked Captain Stewart, the leader of the Morgan Security detachment.

“Because we’re combatants,” the captain replied in a matter of fact tone. “We aren’t laying down our arms, that’s for goddamn sure!”

“But couldn’t you hide among the civilians?”

“We take the distinction between combatant and non-combatant very seriously, Major. If we say a group aren’t combatants then that’s exactly what we mean. You don’t want to start fucking with that. As soon as you do then the designation has no meaning. We’ve even told the irregulars to stay out of there. If you are packing heat then you aren’t in the park or the theatre, simple as that. Even we have our limits and that’s one line we do not cross. The ‘white flag’, the ‘red cross’ or ‘red crescent’ (or Starshield), and the term ‘noncombatant’ are all things that we honor.”

“I see.”

“What you won’t do defines you as much as what you will,” the major said. “We aren’t the Black Angels.”

“The Black Angels?”

***

“Admiral,” a naval captain said urgently. “I implore you to reconsider.”

“What is there to reconsider?” the Admiral of the Navy snapped. “The humans are gathering a huge force! They have to be stopped!”

“It is a gathering of civilians, sir!”

The Admiral of the Navy hissed angrily.

“The humans have done nothing but unleash dirty trick after dirty trick. They have done nothing but deceive and lie from the start! You honestly believe that isn’t yet another trick?!?”

“Based on their and history they-”

“And they know that we will think that!” the admiral shouted. “These are the same people that had us turn our guns on our own civilians! Do you honestly believe that they respect the concept?!?”

“Sir, there is a real difference between-”

“There are over forty-thousand people in that park!” admiral screeched. “Forty thousand! We can’t survive another attack from them... we can’t!... Send up the target!”Ñøv€lRapture marked the initial hosting of this chapter on Ñôv€lß¡n.

***

Three hours later Jessica Morgan stepped in front of a camera with the banner of the Forsaken behind her.

We have stayed our hand...

Images of people ravaged by the plague started appearing.

We were the victim of a biological attack, and we stayed our hand...

An image of a young child now reduced to a mass of tumors and necrotic tissue appeared.

This... this is what the plague does...

Jessica’s careworn face became twisted with pain and grief.

And yet we still stayed our hand...

A time-lapsed graph showing the rates of contagion started to play.

The hate-filled and greedy abused their positions, and our trust, to increase the spread of this disease... And we still have stayed our hand...

Images of the destruction of the Raylesh and Zaran expeditionary fleets played.

Yes, we have fought. But we have done so only to protect ourselves and to wrest control of our systems from those who would see us all die...

Images of humans handing out medical supplies appeared.

We fought so that we could distribute necessary medical supplies to our people...

Images of combat in the human enclaves played.

We fought to protect our most vulnerable populations and keep them safe and uninfected...

Images of wholesale destruction in the Capital played.

And when the Federation, unable to engage us on the ground, brought in battleships to obliterate us from above, we fought to leave the enclaves that we wished to protect to spare them the destruction that was being inflicted elsewhere...

Images of bombardments and dead civilians started to play.

But through all of this... Despite EVERYTHING that has been done to us... we have stayed our hand... We have fought cleanly. We have fought savagely to be sure. We have inflicted massive casualties... But we have waged a war, a war we did not ask for, according to the rules and customs of our people... We stayed our hand...

Images of the orbital strikes on the noncombatants in the capital played.

And yet you still intentionally target our most innocent... our most vulnerable... These were unarmed civilians! You could not defeat our forces so you vent your impotent rage on our innocents... You commit crime after crime against us... You wage genocide upon us... And we have stayed our hand...

Jessica sighed and dropped her head. A few moments later she stared directly into the camera.

No longer... We shall no longer stay our hand... And we have in fact stayed our hand... Unlike you we are a civilized people. There are things that we simply will not do...

More precisely...

Jessica paused and looked at the camera gravely.

There are things that we are unwilling to do...

Pictures of guns, tanks, aircraft, and battleships appeared behind her.

Weapons are born of many things... many emotions... Love, believe it or not, is the mother of most. You want to protect your planet, your people... your family... You love them so weapons are developed to protect what you love... Other weapons are born of fear and terror... You want to force an enemy to submit or you want something so terrible that nobody will dare face it... The fusion bombs that the Terrans wield are born of this... Believe it or not they were first made with the fervent desire that they never be used... And it worked... for a time...

Jessica sighed sadly and she looked at the camera with a slightly horrified expression.

But one weapon was born of pure unadulterated hatred... In the final days of the horror that is known as the Sol Wars, a very gifted scientist lost his entire family when their ship was destroyed in an attack. Driven insane by grief, loss, and rage, he made something... something terrible... something that I refused to use. Yes, even I have my limits... Despite the loss and the death... I simply refused to unleash that horror... I couldn’t... I just couldn’t...

Her eyes turned to ice.

I couldn’t use it on a fellow human being...

A slideshow of plague victims and those killed from the orbital bombardments started to play.

That weapon? We call it “The Elephant’s Foot”... For every pleasure there is a price... You seem to derive a great deal of satisfaction from genocide and the murder of innocent civilians so I’m sure you won’t mind paying the bill. You like hitting us where it hurts so we shall do the same. We are going to hit you where it hurts you the most.

The slideshow stopped and just Jessica remained standing in front of the camera.

This is a war, one you started but one that we will fight. As I have said, we are a civilized people and we will use not only the Federation’s rules of engagement but our own, a much higher standard... unless you target our civilians... What happens today will happen every time you do... If you trample our innocents, we will place a “Foot” on yours.

Jessica smiled coldly at the camera.

We begged you to negotiate and you disregarded it... We told you where our noncombatants sheltered and you disregarded it... And each time you have paid a terrible price... So disregard what I say next at your peril. “The Elephant’s Foot” is the worst thing that has ever been created by the porkies but it is NOT the worst thing ever created by humanity. There is something worse, something far, far worse. You target our people on a planet’s surface, and you will get “The Foot”. If you EVER target one of our noncombatant “Homestead Ships” and I will unleash that final horror. I will cross that final line... This is your only warning...

She leaned forward meaningfully.

I may not be able to protect my people but, by God, I can avenge them! Never target our civilians again.

The transmission ended.

***

Cerux-5

Cerux System

Owner: The Vulxeen

Status: Vulxeen Homeworld

Industry: Misc, primarily financial, military, and government

Location: Logkavux Cargo Depot

Foreman Jakuveen paused to wipe the sweat from his face. It was a hot one. He smiled and waved at a passing grav-lifter.

It had been a decent day thus far. Productivity was high even if everyone’s eyes were glued to a plethora of tablets, phones, and the like. It was against regulations but considering what was going on across the Federation, something to which he was turning a blind eye.

Besides, he wanted to know what was going on too! The humans were on the fucking warpath!

He really couldn’t blame them. He would like to think he would do the same.

He received a text and pulled out his own forbidden personal phone. One of his lifter operators just sent a live link to an address by Jessica Morgan.

He frowned as he watched it. He absolutely could not believe that the Federation would stoop to firing on innocent civilians like that!

His outrage was tempered by concern, a lot of it. Jessica Morgan said that she would be retaliating and the “regard” with which they held the Vulxeen (and vice-versa) was no secret.

If she was going to strike civilian targets...

Suddenly a commotion could be heard. He looked over and his jaw dropped as dozens of shipping modules started floating above one of the cargo yards.

He shouted in pain as he was assaulted by sonic boom after sonic boom as the railroad box-car sized containers shot off in all directions.

***

At Camp Star-Rise, the largest military training facility in the Federation, Drill Sergeant Klik shouted derisively at his troops as they trained.

Inwardly, however, he was pleased. The little guys and girls were doing quite well.

“What is it, moron?” he snapped as one of the recruits raised her hand. It was Tuvellen, a very promising young woman. She was doing very well, almost too well.

He was starting to wonder what she was doing “down here” with the rest of them.

“Excuse me, Drill-”

BOOM... BOOM... BOOM...

The Drill Sergeant stood there stunned by the loud blasts of sound. Suddenly there were these giant... things... floating above them.

What were those.

Something bad!!! his instincts screamed.

“Everybody follow me!” he yelled. “... Run!” he exclaimed as he started sprinting towards a nearby building.

***

The “Elephant’s Foot” was a surprisingly simple device.

Inside each of those shipping containers was something that superficially resembled an ancient fission reactor. There were hundreds of columns of enriched uranium fuel pellets surrounded by control rods.

However, these reactors weren’t designed to produce power...

They were designed to produce only one thing, heat.

As the containers descended to their ideal altitude, an ancient-tech solenoid next to each control rod was energized releasing a catch on a powerful spring which launched its control rod out of the top of the device.

The Elephant’s Foot instantly went supercritical and without any provision for cooling the reactor started to melt down immediately, the splitting uranium flowing out of the rods and mixing with an iron-rich “sand” composed of a specially tailored mix of elements designed to generate the absolute worst nuclear waste possible.

The nightmarish concoction started to quickly melt its way towards the bottom of the device only stopping when it reached a containment field, not unlike the ones that contained the fusing deuterium in a normal fusion reactor...

And just like that field the one around the wad of splitting uranium absorbed the energy of the neutrons flying from the tiny Chernobyl swirling inside the container and then gently directed the now thermal neutrons back into the mix, further “powering” the reaction.

And the inside became hotter and hotter and generated more and more pressure as the uranium continued to split and the neutrons continued to be absorbed by the molten hell-sand...

Until finally, the pressure became more than the field could withstand...

The container ruptured unleashing a torrent of an unholy mix of fissioning uranium, decay daughters, and a gout of the pure hell that the “sand” had become across the ground below, some impossibly radioactive fragments landing miles from the device but most of it blanketing the area beneath it in a white-hot radioactive hell that turned the very soil and stones beneath it into glass as it continued to “burn”.

***

Drill Sergeant Klik breathed a sigh of relief as he got the last of his recruits inside. He looked out over the training field in horror as it burned so brightly it looked like he was staring directly into the sun.

They had almost been killed!

“Is everyone ok?” he yelled.

“Drill Sergeant,” one of his recruits said as they raised their hand, “I don’t feel so good...”

***

Across the planet, Elephant’s Foot after Elephant’s Foot “fell”, striking the headquarters of Vulx-Prime bank, the largest financial institution in the Federation, the Vulxeen Stock Exchange, The Vulxeen Parliament building, and some of the most influential financial districts and data centers in the entire Federation.

Some of the Elephant’s Feet didn’t simply burst but instead projected a fire-hose like jet of the material as the contents were funneled into the ultra-high temperature conductive ceramic chamber of a specially designed gauss weapon.

These supersonic jets of nuclear hell-fire punched deep into buildings, flooding the insides with white-hot death, forever ruining the site, the wreckage too radioactive to touch.

Vulxeen screamed and ran trying to pick their way through the burning wasteland that was once some of the richest areas in the entire Federation only to stumble and fall once they thought they were safe.

Over the next hour the true horror of what befell them became apparent. Mobs of desperate Vulxeen took to the streets desperate to flee the stricken cities only further adding to the chaos as they plunged whole regions into gridlock, people ultimately fleeing their hopelessly stuck vehicles to try to run on foot.

Others took advantage of the chaos to engage in one of civilization’s favorite pastimes, looting.

Korvulxxha, relaxing in the safety of her limo well away from the city, watched the news with a smile. You had to hand it to Jessica, that bitch had style!

She started eagerly reading the message boards of her “dear friends” in the financial community. She didn’t dare call them. She wasn’t sure if she could contain her shit-eating grin.

Creators, she hated them! She hated them all!

The only thing better than watching the financial district burn was the knowledge of all of the hundreds of billions of credits she was going to make out of the deal!

Suddenly, access to the hyperspace network ceased. She quickly tried to access the trading network.

Awesome! It was down too! They just knocked out The Clock and with it, the entire interstellar trade network!

Oh the money they were about to make! By the time everything is restored the entire market will be in free-fall!

They were going to make billions... hundreds of billions...!

She sighed happily.

Nobody waged business like Jessica... Nobody...