The commotion outside of his cell took High Diplomat Annkor by surprise. He tensed. Ever since receiving word that freedom would come soon, he’d patiently bid his time. He gave nothing away, not even a shred of anticipation. Instead, he’d allowed himself to waste away inside his cell as expected and carefully masked his desire for revenge. He had to commend himself for his impeccable acting.
He’d played the part of the hopeless man to perfection.
The telltale sounds of gunshots were music to his ears as his enemies died one by one just on the other side of the walls that entrapped him. He didn’t know which side was winning, but he fervently prayed it was his.
Soon, everything went silent. A soft click from the door alerted him and in that moment he knew he’d be able to escape the hell hole the savage Sunalii had condemned him to. The door swung open and revealed a contingent of fully armed soldiers. Their faces were obscured by their helmets, giving no hint as to who might be beneath.
“High Diplomat Annkor,” said a woman in a voice he recognized. It was the same one who’d given him the warning that he’d be liberated. “Come with us, we don’t have much time.” She motioned with her hand and two other soldiers filed into the cell and collected Annkor, bringing him forward towards his freedom.
“It certainly took you long enough,” Annkor sniffed. He might be grateful that support had come, but they weren’t out of the woods yet. Until he was safely tucked away somewhere nobody would find him, nothing was certain.
“We did the best we could with what we had, sir,” the soldier replied. She guided her troops back down the hall so they could leave with Annkor in tow. He took care to step around the bodies, but there was no avoiding the copious amount of blood pooling on the floor.
Though he was disgusted, he forced his bare feet forward through the blood and left red footsteps in his wake. He swallowed his revulsion, knowing he’d be able to wash himself later. “I pray you have a change of clothes for me?” he said. “It wouldn’t do for me to wander around dressed as a convict.”
The soldier nodded. “We do, but only once we escape. Comfort is secondary to your safety.” She said. She upped the pace and brought them through a maze of corridors. Annkor was thoroughly lost but trusted his allies to bring him to safety without any harm befalling him.
They passed a litany of dead bodies and detached limbs strewn about haphazardly along their route. The more they walked, the more Annkor realized that the fighting must have been intense in order to reach him. “Are there others?” he asked. “I doubt a small team of five could successfully kill so many people without suffering any casualties.”
“We weren’t originally five,” the woman grunted. “The rest of the team is waiting outside by the transportation we arranged for our escape. After infiltrating the facility over the past several months, we were well positioned for a surprise attack,” she explained. “It allowed us to fully utilize our small force to achieve the carnage you saw.” She had more to say about the topic, unhappy that so many good lives had been lost in order to rescue one person. Still, they all had their orders. Everybody knew what they were getting into when they signed up for the job.
“I see,” Annkor replied. At last, they made it to the exit and left the building. Annkor squinted against the harsh sunlight, his eyes unaccustomed to such brightness after his protracted time in his dimly lit cell. He moved forward towards a convoy, still partially blinded. He blinked away his tears and hopped in, glad that the vehicle provided some measure of protection against the light.
It only took several seconds for the rest of the soldiers to get inside. Once everybody was accounted for, the convoy moved forward and left the remote location where he’d been held captive. Unfamiliar with Verilian geography, Annkor had absolutely no idea where they were or where the convoy was going. Unconcerned for the moment, he was more focused on changing into clothes fitting of his social stature.
It was important that a man get his priorities straight.
His liberators could not provide him with fine clothing upon request, instead opting to give him civilian garb so the he could better blend in while they were on the run. Annkor found the logic foolish. He was traveling with a contingent of armed guards in a military convoy. They would surely draw attention wherever they went.
It was to his surprise when the soldiers crammed in next to him also changed out of their combat gear and into plain clothing. Soon after, the convoy came to a stop, and he was instructed to get out. Tucked away behind dense foliage were two nondescript cars. After he entered one, he turned to his guide. “You wish to keep me secret?” he asked. “I am an important political figure for the Rukkan. Your Tribunal has no choice but to take me seriously.”
The woman scoffed at the monumental stupidity of her charge. “Much has changed since you were taken captive and declared an enemy of the faction,” she said. “We need to keep a low profile, especially in current times where the military has unprecedented power.”
Annkor frowned. “What happened while I was imprisoned?” he asked.
“The War Tribunal has risen to power and have declared global martial law,” the soldier replied.
“And your populace accepted this?” Annkor gawked. He knew the Sunalii were a military faction, but they still had a civilian government. One that should have been able to oppose such a rash action.
“Not all of us,” the woman said darkly. “But they did have their reasons.” She went on to explain the declaration of war against the gru’ul and the introduction of humanity to the world. “The leaked video evidence of one of the gru’ul experiments on the human was vile,” she added. “Those in the civil government who opposed first wanted to use the lack of proper first contact procedure as a means to strip the Tribunal of their newly obtained power. The existence of the chemical compound used on the human was enough for the War Tribunal to maintain their newly achieved status.”
“This doesn’t bode well,” Annkor said, biting his lip nervously. “Are there any other developments that occurred?”
The woman hesitated for a moment, clearly unsure whether to speak about a topic that was sure to upset Annkor. “Your faction dispatched an armada to rescue you,” she said reluctantly.
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Annkor lit up at the news. “I knew they would come for me!” he exclaimed. “My message must have made it back to the High Priest.”
“I don’t know if it did or not,” the woman said. “The ship you arrived on was destroyed without anybody knowing.” She took a deep breath and readied herself for the next part. “Regardless of how the High Priest knew you’d been captured, the armada sent to retrieve you was torn to shreds, along with another High Diplomat. We suffered almost no casualties and those we did were flukes.”
Annkor was stunned. “We’ve upgraded our fleet to be able to counter yours,” he said, baffled. “How is such a thing possible?” He’d personally overseen and approved the fleet upgrades and knew full well just what their ships were capable of. They were paragons of might, ready to spread the gods’ teachings to nonbelievers.
“The Tribunal massively upgraded the entirety of its military,” the woman continued. “A move clearly done in anticipation of the coming war with the gru’ul. I fear the brave souls that came to bring you home were nothing more than target practice to test their new toys and iron out any last-minute kinks.”
“They openly mass-murdered my people?” Annkor muttered in a stunned stupor. “They can’t get away with this!” he exclaimed as hot fury replaced his shock. “There must be retribution for their sins.”
“We agree,” the soldier said in a hard voice. “They murdered good a’vaare in cold blood. The Tribunal’s recent decisions are nothing short of disgusting and reprehensible. Since we can’t take them down with external forces, we need to work from the inside to dismantle their power.”
“What are you suggesting?” Annkor asked, wary. “A rebellion?”
“Yes,” she replied. “There’s a growing resistance amongst the populace, ripe to explode like a powder keg with the right shot.”
“And what do you expect me to do about it?” Annkor asked.
“Lead us,” the woman said. “We need somebody with legitimate authority to sway the masses.”
“How do you expect me to do that?” Annkor said, baffled. “I have no contacts here and my authority means nothing to the Sunalii.” There was simply no way he could successfully organize a world-wide resistance movement without getting caught and summarily executed. The mere suggestion that he attempt such a thing was pure folly.
“Lead us from the shadows,” she replied. “Use a figurehead to act in your place. One well-known and ready to join the cause.”
“And you just happen to have one ready and willing to be used?” Annkor said.
The soldier smiled sharply. It was cold enough to make Annkor shudder and devoid of any warmth. She reached into a bag at her feet and withdrew a data slate. “As it turns out,” she said, “we do.” She pulled up a picture of a well-known civilian. “We’re heading towards her as we speak.”
Mihn’s image appeared onscreen and as Annkor read the dossier, he knew she would be the perfect pawn to sacrifice to achieve their objectives. He looked up when he was done reading and flashed a devious smile.
“When do we begin?” he asked.
The Highest hissed in displeasure as it toured the hatchery. After retrieving the data from the captured research facility, it had attempted to replicate the success in Adrian’s experimentation with a new brood.
It was, by all accounts, an abject failure. Hideously deformed gru’ul had emerged from their birthing pods. None of them fit the model of perfection Adrian had attained. To merge the living with the mechanical and improve upon both using synergistic modifications was the goal behind the previous Highest’s experiments. A sound theory on paper but a total disaster in practice.
The Highest couldn’t stand the sight of the aberrations that had survived their births idling in the nursery. They were flawed and that made them hideous. The Highest couldn’t tolerate such failure. After revising the research notes from the facility, it concluded that several new experiments could be attempted to achieve their goals.
It threw itself into its work with a zealous fervor. All gru’ul must contribute to the Mandate. Even the failures it created were but a step in the right direction. Now that the a’vaare knew about the Mandate, the Highest was forced to advance the timeline. Where it was originally planned to replicate the experiments in the gru’ul populace in several generations, the Queen had ordered immediate implementation upon revising the summarized notes the Highest had provided her.
A disappointment though the newborns were, the Highest needed them – if only to mildly improve future iterations until it refined its methodology to ensure a total success rate every time, as ordered to by its Queen.
After learning that the a’vaare were aware of the Mandate, the Queen had ordered a more direct observation of each planet’s leaders. The Highest normally couldn’t care less how the experiments organized their laughable societies and normally couldn’t be bothered to monitor the incessant noise they made over their rudimentary communication networks.
But the a’vaare had dared to propose a war against them. Though their technology was pitiful when compared to the gru’ul’s glorious achievements, the act of rebellion sparked anger in their Queen. Such a grave insult couldn’t go unpunished, and it had been deemed fit to wipe them out from existence.
As the Queen organized their offensive, the Highest lamented that even a small amount of its brethren might perish in the coming battles. Their deaths would be flukes attributable to mechanical failures or the occasional lucky shot, but the fact remained that good gru’ul would die to lesser beings.
And the Highest couldn’t stand the thought of such dishonorable deaths.
The Highest clicked and screeched as a new idea formed in its mind. There were tens of thousands of ugly, imperfect gru’ul that had just hatched. The newborn failures might still be able to serve a purpose. If they were to be disposed of anyway, perhaps they could be used as soldiers to wipe out the a’vaare who had dared rebel against their creators in the stead its compatriots.
The Highest shrieked with joy at its brilliance. Truly, only a gru’ul could devise such an elegant solution to such an unsightly problem. It rushed back to its private office and relayed its thoughts to the Queen and was delighted that she agreed with its sound reasoning.
Granted permission to organize the failed experimental gru’ul into a veritable army and send them to the slaughterhouse, the Highest quickly started working on the logistics of its plan. Though it would be a shame to lose the equipment, material goods were easily replaceable. Proper gru’ul lives were not.
There was no need to give them proper combat training. They were not soldiers. They were nothing more than a stain upon gru’ul legacy. For their transgressions of existing in an imperfect state, they would bleed and die for the cause they failed to properly contribute to. Yes, the Highest thought, I will rid us of this blight and bring about true perfection. Nothing will stop us. It is time for the a’vaare to know our wrath. And when they are tired and weakened from the constant fighting, our real soldiers will enter combat and finish them off.
The Highest cackled with glee, unable to contain its excitement over the impending carnage it would wreak upon its lessers. They would burn. They would hurt. They would suffer. And it knew just the chemicals suited to the task.
The Highest stared at yet another failed batch in anger. The research notes mentioned a success that had even been partially replicated in a female. What had made those two specimens so special? Why were they the only modicum of success the extensive experimentation had achieved?
The conundrum was maddening.
Eventually, the Highest was forced to admit that perhaps the success was but a fluke. A stroke of luck where all the right condition aligned that allowed for its previous counterpart to achieve the desired results.
The Highest needed more. It needed to understand. The only to do that was to study the successes directly. It screeched when the solution came to it. It simply needed the successful experiment to directly study. Keenly aware that it was being harbored by the a’vaare on the planet that had declared war against them, it knew it was the key to replicating the results. Suddenly, the mutated gru’ul had another purpose to serve.
Finding Adrian.
