One Wrong Turn-IV
For those of you actually following the story (both of you to be sure) The next chapter is a bit shorter, but only because the Chapter AFTER This one is going to be a great deal longer. This chapter contains the introduction of the evil alien overlords who invaded Trathala as well as a glimmer of hope from within their ranks. As always if you actually LIKE this story for the love of Gods leave me comments and feed back! I wont see any point in continuing if people don't let me know how they like (or dislike) the story. So give feedback ya wankers :P
=========================
One Wrong Turn
A story by Adric Listwajinn
High over the world of Trathala hung the great moon of Hurn. It was as large as some of the smaller planets in the solar system; so large it held its own atmosphere, so large it made the nights of Trathala almost as bright as the days. In many of the myths of Trathala it was considered not really a ‘moon' but a younger brother, a world birthed along side their own that journeyed around the sun again and again. It was on Hurn, thousands upon thousands of years ago, that a great chapter of the Trathalan civilization would close.
Thousands of years later, it was reopened when first the Alliance came to their world, and then the Tajlan Empire. The first offered relative peace to the inhabitants, the second brought war.
The Great Imperial Tajlan Armada came slowly however. They had no faster then light drives, no great shield technology or anything that set their ships apart from the alliance. What did set them apart, was that instead of travelling in one vast armada, each ship burning fuel, the Empire had found an Asteroid and hollowed it out. Putting the whole of the Armada inside and outfitting it with a truly massive engine, it carried the Armada, troops, soldiers and forces too Trathala. During the journey they raised trained and taught a new generation of soldiers to fight when they would eventually arrive,
The Great Asteroid ship had faithfully carried its payload to Trathala, parked itself in orbit around the planet, and proceeded to unleash the might of the Tajlan Empire upon the world. It now sat at a point between Trathala and Hurn, anchored in the gravity between the two, serving as a Headquarters for the invasion and the war on the Alliance forces.
To date, Hurn was where the bulk of Tajlan forces where kept. The low gravity made shuttling to orbit relatively easy and the atmosphere meant they didn't need to construct costly sealed habitations. It was an excellent staging area for the forces of the Empire and seemed forever busy.
At the largest launching port on Hurn, Qwintoni solders were busy preparing themselves for their first deep space assignments away from the relative safety of the primary Headquarters. The bases on the outer edge of the asteroid field had just been finished and represented footholds of the ever-expanding space the Imperial Armada controlled. Soon they would be full of solders to guard against the Alliance and repel any foolhardy attempts to regain territory.
Watching them prepare, was a great and hulkish Qwintoni. Born on the eve of leaving his homeworld, raised on the immense trip through space, and bred ready for war, Jakenénth felt lucky that he would not be going. Despite his size, he was still considered young, though he had excelled in his classes and his studies. He had obtained the rank of Nepatitz faster then almost anyone else during the great crossing. Many of the officers considered him a model solider, indeed he had served in the initial invasion of Trathalam (now renamed New Tajlan) and had witnessed first had what his people where capable of.
The majority of those that passed by were younger Turpitz solders, most of whom had yet to see combat and would spend the next quarter rotation inside small asteroid bunkers. There were a few higher ranked soldiers, most of whom regretted being order to deep space guard duty. Jakenénth watched their ranks as they shuffled through the large hanger, which led to the transports. Every so often he would see a Vernitz, and even an Opatitz. But none of them were Nepatitz. And being a Nepatitz meant you didn't get ordered around like lower ranked troops. One could, sometimes, choose where one would be stationed. And currently, Jakenénth was exactly where he wanted to be. Putting in an application early, Jakenénth was able to stay on the moon base and more importantly, near Trathala.
Jakenénth thought for a moment on the importance of this. He had never taken well to the mission his Overseer's had tasked him with. A defence of his Homeworld was one thing. It was something he believed in, something he felt to be pure. But this, this was something far different.
In his upbringing during the trip to Trathala, Jakenénth was shocked at the staggering scale of raw materials spent to outfit the Armada and the great Asteroid ship that had taken them all across space to this target of conquest. That in retrospect the leaders in charge must have known Trathala was already inhabited further churned his stomach. He felt bitter inside, used. He had never seen his homeworld, never know his people. He and a generation like him had been born, raised and taught only to fight, to fight away from home on some world many of them felt they had no right nor place taking.
The conflict inside him was great. What he had learned of his homeworld was either propaganda he knew to be false or heavily slanted ‘facts'; or information, smuggled on bored before launch from people who already felt a change was needed. It was these people who had quietly but surly taught Jakenenth and a handful of others as much ‘truth' as they could. He looked away from the launching area and made his way back into the primary structure of the facility.
He checked the chronometer on his bracer ever so often, keenly aware of the time as he stopped at the base's recreation facility. Recreation was something a Qwintoni did not often partake in, and today was no different, he entered in and sat, awaiting a particular ‘friend' he was supposed to see
As he entered the area, he examined the various sparing areas, watching the few Qwintoni present match wits against each other. Those Qwintoni not sparing practiced complex battle moves in the moons low gravity. The rest of the occupants inside were, not to his surprise, mostly Tejlini officers. They sat on the floor while discussing various topics of the day. How the war was going,, how glorious the quick military victories had been, and how they were going to wipe the floor against the Alliance military forces. Jakenénth took a seat on the floor in a quiet corner away from the rest. It had been over hundred rotations since there had been a war with the Tejlini. Despite the peace, Jakenénth still viewed them as contemptible and arrogant. He tried not to disrupt his brief visit with distracting thoughts about issues he could not control, for now. For the moment, he thought it better to focus on what lay ahead. Glancing out a window, he viewed the world his people had so easily taken. He admired its beauty from his far off vantage point, the beautiful, blue and green world of Trathala
Not ‘New Tajlan', not a planet full of aliens but a world held by a corrupt and repressive Empire. Jakenénth mused over his traitorous thoughts. It wasn't that he hated his Homeland and government. On the contrary, since the formation of the Tajlan Empire there had been a new era of peace and prosperity after nearly 500 rotations of senseless warfare.
No, it was not the seven nations of the Empire he hated, it was the one nation of the Imperium. Although they had been responsible for bringing about the era of peace, they had done so by taking away almost all personal freedom and civil rights. It wasn't long before a democracy movement began gaining momentum. But the Imperium held such great political power that progress was near impossible. It seemed that the time for progress might never come.
But it did, ironically in the form of the conquest of Trathala. The generation that had been born and raised on the trip to Trathala, was quick to feel the weight of a repressive government. Having never lived in the constant propaganda of the Imperium, the repressive government and lack of civil rights was far more noticeable. But it wasn't until Jakenénth had seen with his own eyes how first contact with the idyllic people of Trathala had been conducted, that he was finally disgusted enough to take action into his own hands.
A tap on the shoulder brought him out from his thoughts.
"Jakenenth, it is time." The Qwintoni turned to see a friend of his, Tethjro, another high-ranking warrior. He nodded softly as he looked around. From the recreation facility, the two slowly made their way down increasingly disused hallways. At every turn making sure there where not seen or followed. Finally they came to a hatch in a disused part of the base. A series of knocks was echoed by a similar series before the two entered inside.
"Welcome Jakenenth, Tethjro, I am glad the two of you made it, we were about to start." An Officer said from behind the table. There were twenty of them all together, most of them high-ranking warriors, and all but two were Qwintoni. They looked at each other with a somber sense of duty as the door was locked behind them.
"Let the free people of Tajlan meet once more. The war continues, as does the waste and the lies." One, the oldest among the group spoke as others nodded, his name was Klenthtoro, he was an aged, grizzered Qwintoni, who was old when the great armada left his world. He was one of the few that remember his homeworld, and knew enough of its secrets that something needed to be done. He was the one who had started the secret plan, to secretly teach as much of the youth about his world as possible. That such a war, away from home, against a larger enemy force, and fought on a planet they had no business being, would wound and eventually break the Empire. He was an excellent planner and thinker, skilled in the art of doubletalk and hiding secrets. He had survived numerous ‘purges' of others like him within the ranks of the officers over the long twenty years of his journey, many of his allies had been lost to him, and he was no longer willing to watch and wait, the time of waiting was over.
"We must act, we must act decisively and with force, we must send a message that not just us, but a majority of the soldiers, and the youth, have no want or desire for this war." The others nodded in agreement, all of them aware of what was needed, but few of them had any sense of what could be done.
"Klenthtoro, we are all in agreement, but are numbers are few, we can't very well hold a coup and over through the primary leadership. Any movement to install outright rebellion or dissension would be brutally crushed. What can we possible do to begin to begin to change the minds of our leaders or force their hand to withdrawal from this miserable backwater world we are forced to occupy." Klenthtoro smirked, looking at the younger members of the council, an all-knowing look in his deep eyes.
"We are going to help the primitive of the world bellow, help them ‘drive out' our forces." He said softly as the others looked at him incredulously.
"The primitives below are fanatic pacifists!" one of the Tejlini spoke up, others rising from their seats.
"They would never raise a hand, they didn't attempt a single engagement to defend their own world."
"How can you possibly think we could use them to destabilize the leadership of those in control?" Klenthtoro smiled.
"Because, I have been given a rather embarrassing report, outlining an attack upon a small garrison by primitives. It seems a group on the island know as the ‘Lonti Clan' has been casting aside their religious beliefs and dabbling in open rebellion." The others stopped their protests, looking at each other, more confused then shocked by the news. Jakenenth, found himself, albeit timidly, speaking up for the first time.
"Excuse me sir, but if you, and the leadership knows who has been attacking these small forces, why have they not responded, one of our primary airbases is on the island. Why have they not simply bombed and crushed the rebels?" Jakenenth looked down suddenly, he felt a little embarrassed that his mind, trained as it was, seemed to instantly devise a method of attacking and defeating the force that might hold they key to their plans. He looked away, but Klenthtoro seemed to understand.
"You are correct, as it is now our forces could easily crush these primitives. But they have been unable to locate them. They seem to be very, very good at hiding themselves, and that may serve us. The leadership has been embarrassed by the brashness of the attacks and is trying to keep things quiet, holding back on simply rolling over suspected areas while trying to find their next attack. And with each attack that occurs and goes un punished, those in charge of the planets garrison, feel the pressure mount a little bit more.
Gentlemen, Tejlini and Qwintoni, this is our chance. Imagine if we ‘help' these attacks, imagine the increasing shame of those in charge as a group of primitive religious zealots best the Empires finest." One of the Tejlini looked up.
"What are you proposing, help attack our own forces? Give aid to the enemy? We are still fighting a war Klenthtoro." The aged Qwintoni chuckled and mused on this. The thinking of Tejlini, even under best of circumstances, still seemed to center into ideas of victory and glory. He looked up, a stern gleam in his eyes.
"My good friend, for every victory these primitives have, it will tighten the noose around those in control of the planet. This is perhaps are best opportunity to truly enact changes we are after. We force out the older leadership, move in our operatives and leaders. When the time is right we can act, we will be the ones in control and we can at last put an end to this madness and leave this wretched world behind us." The others looked up, a gleam of hope in their eyes at last as they nodded their approval.
"By the Gods Klenthtoro, you are correct. The fall of the garrisons bellow will put the leadership in a state of panic; they will be desperate to restore order by any means possible.
"Yes, and if we have contact with these ‘rebels' and with a world can stop the attacks, or make them worse, we can easily affect a rapid change on the military leadership of the world below, and, eventually, on the leadership here as well. When we have our people in place, we can simply leave this world behind." Another round of nods and agreements followed before Klenthtoro raised a paw to silence the talk.
"Indeed, but we are forgetting something, in order for any of this to work, we must send someone to meet with these primitives, to find them, gain their trust and above all, make sure they can be loyal to us."
"Agreed, but who, and how many should we send?" Tethjro spoke as Klenthtoro turned, his gaze falling on Jakenenth. Jakenenth looked up and his twin sets of ears flitted back in embarrassment.
"Me?"
"You, you are the youngest of us, you are the most open minded to our cause and our ideals. More then that you have proven yourself supremely skilled in your training, you have reached the rank of Nepatitz quicker then almost anyone else in the fleet. You, Jakenenth, our going to go to Trathala, you are going to find these rebels, talk to them, and for the sake of the Gods, make sure they don't do anything stupid."
Jakenenth looked up at the others, his heart racing, he wasn't sure he could possibly be prepared for what they asked of him, yet, he knew it was what he had been preparing for his whole life.
========================
Hope you enjoy this Chapter, brief as it is...