Treason, p.1
Treason, page 1
part #2 of The Descendants War Series
Treason
The Descendants War
Book 2
John Walker
Copyright (c) 2020 John Walker
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
DISCLAIMER
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This story contains explicit language and violence.
Blurb
Information is power.
The crew of the TCN Triton look to uncover the secrets of the Kahl artifact they've brought on board. With a hint of what comes next, they turn to the expertise of a Vorka field scientist, a scholar of history. He resides on a quiet settlement in Rhulin space, a place where he might study in peace.
But the Kahl have other plans, laying siege to the world. With the the scientist on the run and multiple vessels battling near orbit, this quiet researcher has become the center of attention. With more on the line than a few lives, the humans and their allies must conduct a daring mission to not only recruit their VIP but to save the entire settlement in the process.
Meanwhile, behind enemy lines in the Kahl empire, a lone intelligence agent continues her hunt for the elusive Prophet. Pushing her way into the graces of a suspected criminal, she looks to move her way up the ranks so she might silence this rebel faction once and for all.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Prologue
Maurda Flink scowled as the Thistle convulsed under a heavy barrage from Kahl weapon batteries. He and five other Rhulin commanders had put up a real fight to defend their colony on Rinkara, a research and development outpost. Generations of their people lived and died there; families with roots in the whole planet.
Kahl aggression threatened to wipe out every trace of their existence. With an attack force of ten vessels, they came for slaughter. Maurda had fought them on many battlefronts. This had been the largest force they ever brought into battle. When the Kahl had come out of warp, his heart had sank with the realization and acceptance that they were going to lose.
Fortunately, he'd managed to evacuate the helpless parts of the colony. Women, children, the infirm. Those who could fight remained, prepared to give it their best to repel the invaders. Maurda believed the only thing they'd manage to do was hold the Kahl off long enough for others to escape.
"Fire batteries four through seven," Maurda ordered. "Get us between the enemy forces and the Kinpor." A close friend of his captained that ship; one he'd known since childhood. They had attended school together and served together on the same vessel until both achieved command status.
Three of the Kahl ships went after the Kinpor with everything they had, laying into it with so much firepower that it was a miracle she remained in one piece. The Thistle picked up speed, moving into position to buy them some time, even if it only equated to a few moments so they could refresh their shields.
Weapons discharged, glancing harmlessly off their target's shields. Maurda suffered the disadvantage of losing three of their weapon systems. Crews attempted to get them back. Once they do, we don't have the power reserves for them to do much. The sense of doom hovering over his head frustrated him.
I can't give up! We might get reinforcements.
They'd called for help the moment the enemy had appeared; sending word not only back home but to their allies as well. The Prytin had the firepower required to fend off such an attack regardless of the numbers. Whether or not they arrived in time was another matter entirely. After thirty minutes of brawling, assistance didn't seem likely.
"Get in there!" Maurda shouted. Pinpricks of red marks appeared on the Kinpor's hull, indicating micro hull breaches. Those could be exceptionally dangerous if automated defenses didn't kick in to seal them up. Considering the amount of damage they'd already taken, it was perfectly within the realm of possibility that repair systems had been knocked out.
Flying closer to their ally meant the Thistle moved into a gauntlet. The Kahls had plenty of weapons to go around, laying into them as well. A couple hits nudged them, giving the ship a good shake, but the next barrage brought about a serious reaction... a tremor that went straight to their core.
"Damage report!" Maurda shouted. "How bad off are we?"
Crashing sounds around them drowned out the answer. He interrupted the person speaking, ordering the pilot to open fire again. The Kinpor went up, exploding close enough to send debris scattering into the Thistle's shields. All those bits of metal became dense; at first tapping the shields then progressing to a full-on battering.
Maurda called out additional orders, slapping the comm to get Engineering on the line. "Pass close by their lead ship. Prepare to jettison generators six, nine, and fourteen!" Those controlled weapons. It became apparent he couldn't win through force of arms, but he might just survive if he pulled off something surprising.
The Thistle veered hard to port, passing through the line of Kahl vessels. They took a severe beating in the process, suffering blasts from both sides. The HUD showed hull breaches through multiple levels. Shield emitters burst, causing additional damage to their various fixtures. Even in the moment of pure desperation, Maurda considered what it might take to repair the ship.
Time and resources likely made any work on the Thistle impossible. It was a lost cause... which made him wonder if he'd made the right call only dropping the generators. He had the ability and opportunity to do so much more. The first step should cause a little trouble. I might save some of the others.
Maurda gave the order to drop the generators. No one replied. He turned... his tech officer, Dorma slumped at the controls, blood coating his head. The navigator, Enz reclined beside his station, a hole in his chest yawning wide. Only Grenp remained alive, the pilot... but he seemed to be burned on the left side.
We've... it's over. Maurda tapped the comm on his chair. "All hands, get to your escape pods and leave the vessel immediately. I repeat, abandon ship." He tapped it again. "That goes for you, Grenp. Go!"
"I can't leave you here," Grenp replied. "The ship is out of control!"
"I'm initiating the self-destruct right now. It won't matter in a few moments."
"Then hurry!" Grenp shouted. "I'll bring you with me. There's room for two in the pods!"
"I should..."
"Don't!" Grenp interrupted. "We don't have time to argue, but there's no reason to go down with the ship! No reason to give the Kahl the satisfaction of our deaths! We can fight another day if we leave now. Hurry!"
Maurda nodded, logging into the security station. He gave his clearance code as the ship trembled again, battered by a powerful barrage. They couldn't have much time before the vessel went up. Their enemies would show no mercy; wouldn't slow down until the Thistle had been turned to dust.
The screen showed he didn't have the authority to be the sole person to conduct a self-destruct. "Override!" Maurda shouted. "Grenp! Put in your credentials! Quickly!"
The pilot complied, tapping away to have the computer perform a scan of the ship. A brief moment passed. The lights went out. The temperature dropped ten degrees in a second. A deep whine penetrated the walls, a groaning like metal complaining at being twisted by an unbelievable force.
"Credentials accepted," the computer spoke. "Self-destruct in forty-five seconds. Please depart the bridge immediately."
"Let's go!" Grenp grabbed Maurda, dragging him to the maintenance hatch by the elevator. They had to go down half a floor to get to their pod. As they began to climb, the artificial gravity gave out.
Motion became difficult. Vertigo gripped Maurda's head and stomach. He swallowed back bile, desperate not to be sick. The pilot made it first, tapping wildly at the controls within the pod. Lights flickered on, giving them some sense of normalcy even as they fled their dead vessel.
When the doors closed warmth rushed in as the cabin pressurized. Maurda barely managed to strap in when the thrusters compelled them away from the Thistle, hurling them in the opposite direction of the planet... toward deep space. They had maneuvering thrusters that might get them on a reasonable course to a place of safety.
If they weren't shot out of the sky by the Kahl.
They sat beside one another in two seats like the cockpit of a shuttle. Grenp took the controls, bringing the viewscreen online. It depicted the Thistle as they blasted away from it, fire pouring out of the hull, thrusters darkened, lights flickering here and there in the different windows spread across the ship.
"How much time?" Maurda asked.
"Twenty seconds," Grenp replied.
The Kahl ships continued hitting it, which made it clear the other ships in the Rhulin defense force had either been destroyed or they had made it away from the sector. Maurda tur
"Do you think they made it?" Maurda asked. "Or am I looking for dead people?"
"The Kinpor did not make it," Grenp said. "I don't know about the others. They seemed to moving fast enough yet... I don't know." He initiated the thrusters, taking them around toward the planet. The Thistle exploded, filling their tiny pod with a bright flash of white light before going dark again.
Farewell. Maurda swallowed back a sense of guilt, grief, and humiliation. He didn't have time for any of them. Not with the Kahl fleet moving on the colony. Two of their ships attained orbit, blasting the planet's surface. You sick bastards! Go down and fight like soldiers, you cowards! Give them a chance!
But not a single shuttle left their vessel. They seemed content to obliterate the Rhulin people from afar; putting them down like sickened animals. Watching it made Maurda tremble, but he refused to take his eyes away even as they burned with tears of rage. Grenp touched his forearm.
"We'll have our revenge."
"No." Maurda shook his head. "I'm starting to think we won't. The Prytin... cowards that they are, allowed us to fight our own battle. Left us to die here. Our allies." He scoffed. "More like fair-weather friends. I'd spit on them if I ever saw one again."
"We're not dead," Grenp said. "That means we have a chance! There's always a chance while you're drawing breath. Have you not heard this before?"
"This is a temporary state. They're destroying any chance we have of survival down there. And who is going to come back to the colony now that they've obliterated it? I'm sorry, Grenp. We may have prolonged the inevitable." He gestured to the Kahl vessels on the screen. "Not a single one of them took damage from our last act of defiance either."
Grenp fell silent, popping the thrusters a couple times to get their trajectory lined up. It looked like they'd hit the atmosphere shortly, but he had to be sparing with their maneuvers to avoid detection. The escape pods ran silently, only bursting a signature when told to do so for the purposes of recovery.
They were still visible to the naked eye if someone happened to be looking, and the heat signatures from their movement could also attract attention. As they approached the enemy ships, Maurda clenched his fists tightly. Every muscle tensed up. Energy beams burst around them. He turned to Grenp.
"You're cutting it a little close, don't you think? If they look out the window..."
"This is to our advantage," Grenp interrupted. "Flying through their heat will help mask us. Yes, they might see us, but I haven't used maneuvering thrusters. We look like debris at the moment." He paused. "I'm sorry I cut you off, sir. I'm a bit... well... stressed. I hope you understand."
Maurda waved his hand at him. "It's fine. I'm in the same position." Scans kicked back on, working at least well enough to show they were about to hit the atmosphere. That would be another test to see of the Kahl's perception.
Would they think the escape pod was little more than debris burning up? Or might they scan us? He had no idea, so his mind opted for anxiety.
Distance on the HUD appeared, showing they were not far from making contact. "Hold tight," Grenp said. "We should..." The pod rattled, cutting him off. Their momentum stopped immediately, jostling them both against their safety restraints. "We're... no!" He slapped the console. "Sir, they've grabbed us with a tractor beam!"
"A what?" Maurda's eyes widened. "What do you mean? Why would they... what are they doing?"
"Dragging us in, sir." Grenp tapped wildly at the controls before sitting back. "There's nothing I can do. The thrusters aren't even budging us. We're stuck! We're..." He swallowed hard. "What do you think they're going to do? I mean, if they wanted to kill us, why not destroy the pod? Why bring us aboard?"
"I have no idea." Maurda shrugged. "This isn't something I've been briefed on. We don't know about prisoners in combat situations. They've taken colonists before. Militia members. But this... I don't know what to say." He switched the viewscreen to look behind them; to get a shot of the Kahl vessel drawing them in.
"That's one of the battleships," Grenp said. "What are we going to do?"
Maurda popped the panel beside him, drawing out the survival chest. There were two pistols inside along with rations to last a week. He handed one of the weapons to Grenp. "I have a feeling becoming a Kahl prisoner isn't something either of us is interested in. I say we fight."
"You... you don't want to see what they're going to do?" Grenp looked at the gun, gingerly taking it from him. "If you want to commit suicide, why not do it right here? Just put that against your head and pull the trigger!"
"I don't know about you," Maurda replied, "but I'd like to take some of these bastards with me. They destroyed our ship, killed who knows how many of our people... friends, colleagues, shipmates. There are other escape pods out there. They might be dragging them in as well. So we kill Kahl. As we're meant to."
Grenp sighed. "I suppose." The screen showed them entering a hangar. The pod was placed on the deck gently enough that they barely felt the vibration from the floor. Soldiers came forward to surround the pod. Then the power dropped, turning the screen off in the process. "I suppose here we go."
Maurda led the way, tapping the panel to open the door. It hissed before parting. The second he had a gap, he fired his weapon, blasting away at the soldiers waiting for them. Two shots caught a target, knocking him to the floor. Grenp joined him, taking a couple potshots as well before the Kahl returned fire on them.
There was nowhere to hide but behind the seats. Each man pressed himself against the wall to make himself a smaller target, but it wouldn't matter for long. Someone shouted; a guttural word that ceased the incoming fire. Neither of them had been hit, either by accident or on purpose... it was hard to say.
The soldiers moved to either side of the door, out of range.
"There's nowhere for you to go!" A man shouted at them, using their language. He barely had an accent. That fact chilled Maurda, made him wonder if the Kahl had somehow infiltrated their ranks, learned more about them from the inside. He looked at his gun, considering what to do next. "Come out! We will not kill you."
"Listen, filth!" Maurda yelled back. "You came into our territory, slaughtered our people, and attacked our colony with no provocation! Why should we believe you?"
"Because there was no reason for us to bring your coward pod into our hangar if we intended to slay you."
"We knew that," Grenp muttered. "But sir... I... I think we should surrender."
Maurda scowled at him. He couldn't imagine giving the Kahl the satisfaction of making him a prisoner. He contemplating putting the gun to his head. It could be over in a moment. But there was another way. One which meant the potential of doing some good for his culture. If I can learn more about them... escape later. He tossed his weapon outside the pod.
Grenp did the same before both exited, holding their hands over their heads.
Something moist on Maurda's head made him brush his wrist against it. Blood smeared his skin. He frowned. I don't remember banging my head. The Kahl came forward, keeping their weapons aimed. The officer who shouted earlier approached, holding a pistol at his side. He glared at them both.
"Which is the commander?"
"I am," Maurda said.
"You killed one of our people." He lifted his weapon, blasting Grenp in the face. The pilot fell with a blackened hole where his eyes had been a moment before.
"No!" Maurda dropped down beside him. He reached to touch him but paused... it was clear he was gone. "We surrendered! Why would you have done that! We agreed to surrender!"
"You kill one of ours. We kill one of yours." The man gestured. "Take him to the cell. Get Medical to check him. He looks strong. He'll have to do the work for two. Get him out of my sight."
"What do you mean?" Maurda shouted as two of the soldiers grabbed his arms. He struggled, trying to look back at the officer. "What do you mean by 'work for two'? I demand to speak to your leader! Get him now!" None of them said a word as he was dragged from the room, no matter how much he shouted or screamed.
