Echelon’s End
Book 7
Enter The Fury
By
E. Robert Dunn
PROLOGUE:
The Calliopean star system was composed at its periphery with great gaseous and ringed planets and icy moons, and nearer to the center, small, warm, habitable, cloud covered worlds. Calliope VIII, covered with methane ice and accompanied by its solitary giant moon, was illuminated by a distant Calliope, which appeared as no more than a bright light in a pitch black sky. The giant gas worlds Calliope V, VI, and VII the jewels of the star system and Calliope IV all had an entourage of icy moons. Interior to the region of gassy planets and orbiting icebergs were the warm, rocky provinces of the inner solar system. There was, for example, the pale green planet Calliope III, with oxygen rich atmosphere, soaring volcanoes, great rift valleys, enormous planet wide sandstorms, and simple forms of life. All these planets shared their orbits around the mighty orange sun of Calliope, an inferno of hydrogen and helium gas engaged in thermonuclear reactions, flooding the star group with light.
Nestled between the orbits of Calliope I, an airless lump of iron rock, and Calliope III was a tiny, fragile, blue white world, almost lost in the cosmic ocean. It was a planet of blue nitrogen skies, oceans of liquid water, cool forests and soft meadows, a world positively rippling with life. It was poignantly beautiful and rare. Calliope II was inhabited by a unique race of hominid female type beings. At one time, it was a world populated with male and female sentient beings happily reproducing by means of sex. But that was before the Choking Death a plague that caused bleeding in a host's alveoli, making the victim literally cough oneself to death as they drowned in their own hemorrhaging blood and, the majority of males died out, and a mutant female arose, one who was able to sidestep males and still have young. Her offspring were all females who could reproduce without sex by a process called parthenogenesis (virgin birth). Because she produced no sons, the female gave birth to twice as many daughters as the other females did. A few generations later, every female in the group was reproducing asexually. Calliopean males had become a memory.
For the Elected One, the bitter lesson of a male-gender dominated society was being thrust into her face and memory. She had been taken captive on board this Destroyer-class Strikecruiser now in orbit around her home planet. She stood tall, elegant and, despite harsh circumstances, beautiful before the burnished conference table and the soulless and unyielding ten Tauron Supreme Lords and officers that ranged around it. Imperial stormtroopers stood guard at the entrance to the chamber, which was sparse and coldly lit from lights in the table and walls.
A pair of red-armored stormtroopers lifted Ba’al Sirdar Araujo-le's lifeless form from the floor of the conference room and dragged it without emotion passed the Elected One as she passed through the chamber's foyer and into the room proper.
Araujo-le had known that death was the likely consequence of the Thilen Nine Assault failure. He had known, too, that he had to report the situation to his superiors and make his formal apology to his commanding officer, Quadrant Prefect Elyon Ba’al Sirdar Ruce Equerry-le. He also knew that there was no mercy for failure within the Tauron Imperial Military. In addition, Equerry-le, in disgust, had shot the sirdar after he had finished his acknowledgement of regret for the fault and had asked for Equerry-le's pardon.
As Equerry-le’s ire diminished, the fan-tailed pair of red V-shaped crests along his head folded and he turned his attention to the strikingly urbane creature that had been ushered in as Araujo-le fell. He hissed as he faced his colleagues, a dripping glob of foam edges his leathery lips. Immediately, the others in the room moved their topic of conversation from Araujo-le to the fate of the planet and its citizenry their vast spacer orbited.
Elected One Marveedah-Bron studied her captors with controlled passion as she listened to their debating on the fate of her and her world. She had reluctantly capitulated after barely keeping the Taurons at bay for over a cycle; her defense forces had finally been exhausted. The binding that locked the female's hands behind her back was primitive and effective. A muscle twitched in one smooth cheek, but other than that, the female did not react. Nor was there the slightest shake in her stature.
Marveedah-Bron's attention stayed primarily focused on one of the oldest of the ten. He, like the others of his species, was dressed in an opulently adored, grey-colored military uniform and had cobra skin that swirled with color. A mask-like face appearing to be pulling away from his great golden honeycombed eyes mounted his hominoid and vast, seven-retem tall frame covered with the ice blue scales of age.
Though his uniform was as neatly molded and his body as clean as that of anyone else in the room, a certain slime clung cloven to him, a sensation inferred rather than tactile. Yet despite this, it appeared the other nine respected him. Or feared him. His distaste for having Marveedah-Bron kept alive was evident in his declaiming.
"Is her existence being kept for some perverted satisfaction for the Court?" he barked at his associates. "I tell you, the longer she lives, the longer our effect within The System fades. Eliminate her!"
An aged senior officer, with facial lines and wrinkles so anciently engraved that even the best cosmetic surgery could not fully eliminate, shifted in his chair. "The Elyon Prefect wishes to allow the Calliopeans an alternative in their destiny. Our realm will need strong, vibrant offspring to repopulate The System, Quadrant Prefect Elyon Ba’al Sirdar Equerry le. Or, do really believe that the whole of the Tauron female population could hope to supply enough offspring to populate The System?"
"Must we negotiate?! We are a hunter race and we take what we want. Taurons do not bargain with their captors, Elyon Ba’al Sirdar Garcon le!"
"Are you suggesting that the Elyon Prefect is negotiating with the Calliopeans, Equerry le? That he would embarrass the mighty Empire before these captives?" Amil Garcon le leaned forward in his chair, cocking a wary eyebrow.
"I'd say," one of the youngest of the ten spoke up, "Quadrant Prefect Elyon Ba’al Sirdar Equerry le was implying that the Elyon Prefect was not effectively demonstrating our power over the Calliopeans, by allowing Elected One Marveedah-Bron to live."
Quadrant Prefect Elyon Ba’al Sirdar Ruce Equerry le, supreme lord over numerous outlying Tauron territories, looked appreciatively at his comrade. "Thank you, Naik Liam Mede le. I do not need representation in this forum." Re-facing Garcon le, he went on, "The Elyon Prefect is a very wise and sacred being. I would never dare question his rule; yet, I must express that having this mutant female kept alive is not to the Empire's best interest. It makes the Empire appear merciful towards its captives."
Marveedah-Bron's voice held no shake as she spoke. "Trust me, Quadrant Prefect Elyon Ba’al Sirdar Equerry-le, the Tauron Empire will never appear 'merciful' in the eyes of those who comprise The System. In addition, the Calliopean people will never allow becoming concubines for your Elyon Prefect and your court! We are as much a part of The System as any of our allies. In the remembrance of Aidennia we defy you and …”
"SILENCE!" Quadrant Prefect Elyon Ba’al Sirdar Equerry-le snapped acidly, rising in his chair. Beneath his skull’s dominant supraciliary arch, his golden snake eyes glared hateful at the female, his cranial crests fanned outward from along his head. "You will not speak to this forum or of the Quadrant Prefect in such a tone! You have not that privilege! The glorious Elyon Prefect will seal your fate, like all those of your conquered allies. Speak again, and you forfeit your life!"
Marveedah-Bron whipped her head around to face Equerry-le's glassy eyes; they were bright as tungsten. Her smooth, soft features that resembled that of a doe wrinkled into a mask of pure vehemence. "Then I forfeit my life in the name of my people and The System, Elyon Ba’al Sirdar Equerry-le!"
A heartbeat passed. That was all the time needed Equerry-le to un-holster his weapon and take aim, Elyon Ba’al Sirdar Amil Garcon-le’s objection caused Equerry-le's thumb to hover steadily over the device's firing contact point.
"Let her live! Such spirit will make an amusing element during her intercourse with a member of the Court! I shall thoroughly enjoy watching her mating with one of the Empire's sires!"
Slowly, and with controlled rage, Equerry-le re-holstered his laser and resettled in his contoured chair. His crests had deflated, yet his face remained in a frozen snarl -- his wide red mouth agape, revealing sawtooth fangs behind his pincher sabers. His crocodilian tail’s tip purposefully thumped the deck in a dominant gesture.
Neither Garcon-le's words nor his inimical presence appeared to have any effect on the female. "You stupid, arrogant fool! No Tauron could ever successfully couple with a Calliopean! Sexual intercourse between males and us has not been accomplished for generations! Your sires would be wasting their time ”
"Then it will be quite entertaining to watch our sires attempt intercourse with Calliopeans time and time again, until there is success," Garcon-le declared, cutting her off.
She succeeded in reaching him with her spit, which hissed against hot scales. He wiped the offensive matter away silently, watching her with interest. Then he snapped his head in a single swift motion, his aged mandibular tusks splayed wide. The Calliopean felt something smack wetly against her chest. She looked down and saw a dripping glob of foam on her perspiration-laden regal raiment, just above the collar. The skin of her neck was already starting to tingle and burn. It was almost like she had been touched with acid.
Turning to one of the on station guards, Garcon-le ordered, "Take her to the holding area, and have her prepared for coupling!"
Two escort troopers took firm grip on the Elected One's bound arms and marched her through the accessway into the bowels of the cruiser.
"Holding her is dangerous," Equerry-le restated. "If word of this does get out, there will be much unrest in the System Resistance. She should be destroyed immediately."
"Elyon Ba’al Sirdar ”
"Garcon-le, I don't think you realize how well equipped and organized the Rebel Resistance is. Even though their mighty Spacecorps Fleets have been overwhelmed, they still have organized militias, excellent vessels, and their pilots better. They are more dangerous than most of you realize. All you need to do is review reports from the Outer Rim Armada."
"This rebel force you speak of has little concern to the Empire. Already regional governors are now having direct control over all conquered System planets and have a free hand in administering their territories. This means that the Empire's presence can at last be brought to bear properly on the caviling worlds of the System. From now on, fear will keep potentially traitorous local administrations in line. Fear of The Tauron Empire fleet and fear of this staging area."
"What of Sheey?" Naik Agan-le, another young lord, wanted to know. "It is still free from our influence."
"Sheey will be dealt with promptly." Quadrant Prefect Elyon Ba’al Sirdar Equerry-le reassured the lord. "High Srigan Alkin is a fool, and shall be proven one in front of his people when it amuses the Elyon Prefect. Sheey's time is close at hand."
A communication signal bleeped for attention, and Equerry-le tabbed a response contact point on the tabletop in front of him. "Speak, Operator," he instructed.
The holographic disk in the center of the conference table came alive with the three dimensional image of a male technician on the main bridge.
"Elyon Ba’als of Taura, we have received a hypo-space scrambler message from our contact on Sheey. Should I put it through?"
"Confirmed," Elyon Ba’al Sirdar Garcon-le said.
The operator's image nodded, and then shimmered out of existence. Immediately, the fine, lynx like features of a Sheeyan replaced the reptilian technician.
The Supreme Lords quickly identified the alien.
Elyon Ba’al Sirdar Kna-le addressed the male. "Speak Chief Exec Dugan, what is your report."
The Sheeyan bowed respectively. "As the Supreme Prefect wills it, so shall I speak ..."
“Betrayal”
CHAPTER ONE:
Srigan SireCarlos Locicero's gaze rose to the one way mirror he stood before. On the opposite side of the glass wall, Moela Darasiress sat on an examination table nude, her purple-black regulation uniform removed. Black hair of wool and her head held high. New life growing within the Aidennian female’s womb swelled her golden belly like a ripe melon. Jor Dansire in a breechclout was beside her; an Erytheman heritage showed in his ruddy features and body type. He paced across the room in even strides, his bare feet gently pounding on the floor. A beautiful face. Well defined, with a sharp jaw and angular cheekbones, scalloped ears, eyes that shone brightly.
"Are you certain, Re’go?" Locicero asked the operative seated beside him. His raven black hair glistened in the light illuminating from the window, was combed back and his face carefully structured. Physically not a lanky male, with bulk on him; muscles seen beneath the military uniform.
“As I've assured before." The silky haired brunette stepped beside Locicero and peered coldly through the one way mirror. "The fetus is mature. The Aidennian cow will give accouchement before the equinox is out. Her symptoms are due to her system rejecting the sire's genetic code."
"Lieutenant Commander Moela is having an allergic, systemic reaction to the fetus?"
"As my report clearly shows," Corporal SiressRigel Rego reminded, pointing to the computer interface that displayed captions and glyphs that told of what she spoke. One holograph caught Locicero's attention. It was that of rod-shaped nucleotides occurring in a chain formation.
"Iridological findings are Chromosomal Blastosis Fetalis,” Rego continued. “It involves host blood cell deterioration, increasingly debilitating pain, and a toxophorous condition. She had an acute reaction that then became accelerated by exposure to high doses of thermolytic radiation. My research isolated the cause of this acute condition as Androine-36, or An-36, a highly virulent mutant genetic base-pair complement.”
The corporeal an extremely attractive, level-headed medical technician with her own strengths. A tall, slim brunette with tawny eyes, a professional, who approached her responsibilities with enthusiasm.
“Interesting …” Lociciero said thoughtfully. “I have instructed the healers here on Sheey to use RNA splicing and ribosome transfusions to force the syndrome into remission. Antigens of a specific chromosomal echelon gene are the cause, whose origins have been traced back to the sire … Ni’craan Ma’tasire.”
“Major Ni’craan Ma’tasire is the sire?” Locicero gasped. “Not Lieutenant Commander J’or Dansire?”
Rego remained mute, but her eyes conveyed all the truth the Srigan needed to fuel his aghast and ire. Trying to divert her superior’s disgust, she continued with her report, saying, “This condition is often fatal and hard to detect, diagnosis, and treat." Rego sighed and then added with an air of gratefulness, "Thanks to the medical equipment available here, I was able to run iridologic scans and diagnose her condition before it became terminal; she's recovering.”
“Why wasn’t she treated onboard the Pioneer Four by their attending physician?”
Rego smiled empathetically, saying, “The Pod Four is only designed with a triage medical unit. Therefore, it lacks the sophisticated equipment such as an iridological scanner to make an accurate diagnosis and devise an effect treatment for such conditions as Chromosomalblastosis Fetalis.”
“What is an iridological scanner?” Locicero asked, his curiosity momentarily peaked.
Rego motioned beyond the two-way window, at a device cornered in the holding room. It resembled an archaic ophthalmoscope standing on its pedestal, an illusion broken by the tiny lights winking to signal the functionings of advanced technology. “Iridology is the science that allows the analysis of cells, organs, and systems of the body,” she explained. “Conditions and causes of a body’s deficiencies can be surmised through the examination of a patient’s iris in their eyes.”
“Interesting.”
“The iris is directly connected to the central nervous system that regulates all the organ functions. Each of the body’s systems are connected to each and every organ so everything that happens, such as inflammation, reflects in the central nervous system and thus the iris.” To help illustrate, Rego activated the nearest medical holo-telemeter set. It hummed and then glowed with spherical life showing a variety of ophthalmic medical record files that demonstrated the medic’s narrative. What appeared were different coloration or deep lesions in the irises up for demonstration. “These landmarks let the practitioner know the health conditions of a patient. The analysis is digital and computerized,” she commented; touching specific contact points on various holograms.
“And this device allows you to learn how a patient’s body can reveal its deficiencies?”
Rego nodded. “The procedure is a painless analysis.”
“For decacycles I have heard about our eyes being the revilement of our souls,” Locciero mused. “I can see now, for medical professionals they also reveal a being’s health.”
“Science is truly an amazing art form,” Rego sighed with satisfaction, terminating the three-dimensional visuals.
“How is the fetus?” Locciero suddenly changed the tone of the conversation.
Rego followed his lead, saying deadpan, “The fetus is weak, but will recover given enough time. We diagnosed the Aidennian female just in time. I've given her a 6X potency tincture of caulphyllum thalictroide to stabilize her system. Both siress and fetus are responding well to aggressive DNA polymerase therapy."
"The Aidennian species could continue," Locicero said thoughtful. "The Eugenics Project will be successful."
Rego's almond shaped eyes shifted to the srigan. "Are you certain an accouchement from her is that dangerous?"
"Yes.” Locicero’s face became a mask of loathing as he went on, “This offspring is an abomination, the manner in which it was conceived unholy. Its creation violates the very fabric of the Echelon Order and The System. Less than an eon ago, immoral acts such as this almost brought our civilization to its collective knees. Unsanctioned couplings produced unwanted pregnancies, birth defects, divorce, infidelities within Unions, poverty, domestic violence, and even the separation of castes. It would be the key that the Reproductionist Fifth Column would need to push their propaganda."
"I am not so certain, Lo’cic’ero." Rego shook her head and looked back at the enceinte female; she doubted the Aidennian carried the seed of an anti-Echelon plot. "Despite the fact the fetus was consummated between an Echelon and a Non-Echelon, I seriously doubt that this act will give the Fifth Column the dominant edge we fear. This pregnancy almost killed both her and the fetus, hardly anything to broadcast about."
Locicero studied the determined set of Rego's oval face. He looked back at the Aidennian female and her pacing mate. “Nonetheless, we cannot take the risk with the Taurons so close to us. I've just received word that the Elected One of Calliope has surrendered. Morale is low we do not need the kind of incident that this accouchement would create. I want this female and the life she carries in her belly destroyed."
"Destroyed?" Rego's head jerked around. Her eyes went saucer wide, then narrowed to slits.
"We have no further use for this female. Have her killed with her spouse-apparent," Locicero said. "I want it done now."
"But the child she carries --!" Rego's voice raised an octave as she spoke. "How can you order her killed? How can you waste an entire species attempt at survival? The accouchement could be kept a secret! No one need know! Lieutenant Commander J’or would gladly claim the child as his own."
"Less than a cycle and a half ago, I stood by and saw our world’s ruling aristocracy burned to a crisp in deviance to the Occupation; my clan-members among them. The accouchement of that child will bring the Taurons wrath down upon us. I cannot allow that. News of the accouchement would eventually leak out. Already there is suspect of a traitor within the executive administration! We must think of ourselves." Locicero turned away from his assistant.
"Lo’cic’ero, what are ”
"Order this Aidennian cow and her consort executed, Re’go!" Locicero pivoted and glared at her. "Do it now. Then I want him and her and the life she carries burned to a crisp. I want no trace to remain of them. Do you understand that?"
Rego paused pensive for a moment, then nodded hesitantly, but said, "By your desire, Lo’cic’ero."
"Then do it now," he replied. "I will be watching to make certain my orders are carried out."
Without another word, Rego turned and walked from the small office. When the door closed behind her, Locicero's gaze shifted back to the examination room on the other side of the mirror.
A moment later the door to the examination room opened and Rego entered. Neither Jor nor Moela have time to scream, energy beams flared over the gap as the assistant unleashed her revealed weapon on their vulnerable bodies. Neither one had a shade of a chance. The two Aidennians were out on their feet; both slumped as simple mechanical laws decided which way they fell. Locicero nodded with self-approval and then turned leaving the anteroom. He was glad to have the situation ended.