The ghazzali horde space.., p.1
The Ghazzali Horde: Space Mercenaries (Wolf Cyborg), page 1
THE GHAZZALI HORDE
Space Mercenaries
Galen Wolf
¶
PRONOUN
Thank you for reading. If you enjoy this book, please leave a review or connect with the author.
All rights reserved. Aside from brief quotations for media coverage and reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the author’s permission. Thank you for supporting authors and a diverse, creative culture by purchasing this book and complying with copyright laws.
Copyright © 2017 by Galen Wolf
Interior design by Pronoun
Distribution by Pronoun
ISBN: 9781508069560
TABLE OF CONTENTS
In Space
On Planet
War
End Matter
Space Horde: Severan
Galen Wolf
In Space
On Planet
War
End Matter
In Space
THE HULL OF THE MANTIS shuddered as the kinetic torpedo struck the plasma shield and fizzled out like a fly in a zapper. Gaijann peered down from the top nacelle to see the impact. He was wired into the ships systems and saw and felt everything the Artificial Intelligence did. He cleared his throat.” You want me to fire now?”
Severan didn’t answer. The mercenary commander observed the battlefield with drug induced hyper-awareness. The AI supplied him with data fields and he was almost supernaturally aware of all objects, large and small in that area of space. Or nearly all.
Gaijann coughed. “Now?”
“Not now. Wait.”
Gaijann muttered under his breath.
Abel the Ship’s sentient AI noted quietly, “Kinetic rounds approaching. Movement seeking.”
Severan said, “Jam, please.”
The ship released ceramic flock that would dazzle the enemy weapons’ underpowered and unintelligent senses.
“Now? For the electron?” Gaijann said again.
“Wait. I sense turbulence. Abel, diagnostics?”
The AI reported a high quality stealthed photonic torpedo. If it hit the Mantis, it would go through the plasma shield like a hot knife.
“Well spotted, boss,”
“Neutralize the torpedo. You have a lock?”
“Hmm. Uh-huh.” Gaijann had an old-fashioned Neodymium YLF cannon. Abel fed geospatial data into his brain. He had it. “Lock. Fire. Gone.”
The darkened torpedo exploded in a silent blaze, bright as a flaring match.
“Now the Electron,” Severan ordered.
Gaijann muttered. “At last.”
“There is a time for everything, Gaij. Now is it.” Doc Muderow, combat psychologist, happily intoned through the neural net.
Gaijann grimaced. “Release.” A click, then - “She gone.”
Another bang shook the Mantis. The seats rocked as an impact flare popped off the starboard bow.
“Damn, how’d that get through?” Gaijann muttered.
Muderow said, “Didn’t see that either. You Sev?”
Severan said, “No, but it wasn’t photonic, just standard underpowered kinetic. Abel can you care of those please?”
The AI said, “Affirmative.”
“Fucking dogs,” Gaijann said.
Severan muttered, “And go with the Electron.”
Pretending he was unfazed by the near miss, Gaijann said, “Launching your Electron now, Doc.”
“Can always rely on you, Gaij.”
“And gone.”
The electromagnetic missile left the Mantis’ torpedo port with a pneumatic whoosh and hurtled through space towards the enemy craft.
“Good-oh.” Doctor Muderow had his head fully connected and his eyes shifted under eyelids as he tracked the Electron. He was linked to the Electron torpedo. “About to hit. Three...two...one and she’s there.”
Gaijann, Muderow, and Severan all watched while the connectors from the Electron uncoiled and snaked out over the surface of the enemy vessel like a squid.
A minute went by.
“Have you got them?” Gaijann spoke through the neural net.
“Patience,” Muderow said soothingly. “They’re self spliced are they?”
“Yes.” Severan watched in his mind’s eye as the AI fed its data through his occipital cortex, simulating vision.
“I hate Indie Splicers,” Gaijann muttered. “They have no taste.”
“They certainly produce some rather tasteless body effects.”
“I saw one with three dicks. I mean.” Gaijann snorted.
“Focus,” commanded Severan.
“Sorry boss.”
“It’s in.” Muderow said. “Now, Abel please, pulse.”
Abel pulsed as directed and subtle streams of electromagnetic energy from the torpedo lit up the enemy vessel. The lighting was a side effect; the real payload was how the electric fields injected themselves into the enemy ship’s nervous system, ran down the lines into the wired-in crew, and interfered with brain activity. The Mantis had this ability, and Dr Muderow was in the crew to use it - this was why they got hired by the system government.
Abel reported that all systems on the rival vessel were out.
“And good night,” Muderow chortled. They could feel his grin through the net.
“That’s the last of them right?” He still had on his personal wire that allowed him to connect to the neural net by piggy-backing on his 8th Cranial Nerve, even when he wasn’t wearing the full helmet connection.
Severan said, “Yes, that’s it. Come on down, Gaij.”
Gaijann took off his helmet and the image of the virtual battlefield vanished from his mind. He slid down the tube from the gunnery nacelle and landed by Severan. They were physical opposites. Severan was six feet five, broad and muscled with golden hair. Gaijann was slight, slim and black. “I already did.” The gunner/assassin/burglar grinned. “I’ll go unwire the doc.”
Muderow was so heavily linked into the ship; he couldn’t get out of his chair without third party help.
“Plasma shield held up well, Abel.”
“Thank you, Severan,” the machine intelligence crooned.
“Position?”
“We are fifteen thousand kilometers above Scorpius III. In the Ptolemy Cluster on the Orion-Cygnus Arm.”
Gaijann turned from where the Doc sat patiently being de-wired. “Have we been paid yet?”
Abel reported they had. “There is a note attached: job well done, from Scorpius military command.”
Gaijann took the attachments from under the Doc’s eyelids.” Nice to be appreciated. But better to be paid.”
The psychologist yelped.
“Sit quiet,” hissed the assassin.
Severan walked down the cramped passage towards the ship’s galley. “I’m going to get a beer. You two want one?”
Dr Muderow rubbed his eyes. “Yes please. I’ll be right there.”
Gaijann groaned.” Not that Scorpion shit?”
Doc raised his eyebrows. “Scorpion shit? Sounds nasty.”
“Figuratively. Bad beer made on Scorpius IV. Not shit.”
“Why say shit?”
Gaijann sighed. “You’re very literal.”
“I have Asperger’s Syndrome.”
“I knew.”
Severan disappeared.
“Where’s Aidan?” Gaijann asked Muderow as the psychologist rose from his seat and stretched out his legs.
Muderow rolled his eyes. “Praying? He does that a lot.”
“I guess. Come on, let’s get that brew.”
Muderow caught Gaijann’s sleeve. He hissed, “Is he still gonna quit?”
“He says so. Says he wants to sell his share in the Mantis, for us to buy him out.”
“What we going to do without him?”
Gaijann shrugged.
“Can we persuade him not to leave?”
“Doubt it. His mind is set. He wants to go to Hilarion straight after this. Wants us to set him down so he can get on with his new life.”
“But really? He’s going to give up shooting people? That’s what he’s good at.”
Gaijann laughed. “He says he’s going to be a farmer.”
“There’s a woman involved,” the doctor said as they followed Severan to the galley. “Must be.”
“I’ve never seen him look at a woman. You know when we go out after a gig, he always stays at home.”
Muderow scratched his head. “What do you think he does?”
“I think he cleans his guns. Honestly.”
On Planet
GAIJANN WOKE TO THE SUN gleaming through the window onto his bed. A light summer breeze lifted the drapes. There was a tap at the door.
“Huh? I mean, come in.” The assassin rubbed his eyes and pushed up on his elbows. A small boy brought him breakfast on a tray - grapes, cheese, bread and a glass of milk.
“It’s all from our own farm,” the boy said.
“Wow! That’s great.”
“I’ll leave you to rest now.”
“Sure, I’ll eat this, and then tell your dad I’ll be through when I’ve showered.”
Gaijann sat with Severan and his wife Oriel on the porch while the boy and the girl played about the oak tree in front of the farm. The morning sun slanted over the wooded hills. Gaijann heard the birdsong from the forest nearby and the rushing of the river, full with
The big man laughed. He stroked the dog, a black and white collie.
Oriel said, “He’s a farmer now. More used to tending the cattle than playing with guns.” She had sumptuous red hair that gleamed in the sun. She ran her fingers over her man’s arm idly as she spoke.
Severan stirred. “Speaking of which, I need to go see how the girls are doing.”
“The girls?”
“The cows he means.”
Gaijann shook his head. “Just can’t get over him. What the hell did you do ?” He laughed.
Severan stood. The dog, Jess, got up with him, eager to go to work. Severan caressed Oriel’s auburn hair. “It’s the love of a good woman. You should try it. Why don’t you come and see the cows with me?”
“Why not?” The assassin rose and followed his ex-boss towards the cattle sheds. Unfamiliar birds flitted overhead. The boy and the girl tagged along - the boy, Octavian, playing starfighters, his arms out wide making swooping movements as he ran. The dog followed, wagging its tail vigorously.
“So, life on Hilarion seems to suit you. You look well.”
“You too, buddy.”
Gaijann rubbed his chin. “Can’t put that down to clean living. There was this girl...”
Severan shushed him. “Easy. The kids...”
Gaijann flushed. “Oh, sorry. Sure.”
Severan was gazing out towards the hills. “You know they terraformed this whole planet. They wanted it to be a reserve for species from Earth, but then the farmers arrived.”
“The population’s tiny though, right?”
Gaijann heard the cattle lowing ahead. Severan told him they were a group of suckler calves that were bound for the bottom field to feast on the summer grass. He smelled them too and winced.
The big man laughed. “You get used to the country smells.”
Gaijann remembered the wedding five years ago. He had given Oriel away in place of her late father. Oriel was a Hilarion native. Severan met her at the local market when they were on leave when the Mantis had been doing escort runs from Agape.
Severan opened the gate and shooed the calves out onto the lane. Octavian and his daughter Symona played at helping, but the dog Jess did all the real work, making sure the cows didn’t dawdle, or stray - keeping them in line.
They got to the field. The green grass sparkled with the yellow, pink and blue of wild flowers. Swallows dived low and criss-crossed the field in search of insects.
Gaijann leaned on the stone wall and breathed in the summer air.” Seems a long way from anywhere.”
“On purpose,” the giant said. He gestured at his children. “For them. I’ve seen too much. There’s too much craziness and wickedness. I wanted to protect them from it all.”
“Absolutely.” Gaijann shielded his eyes. “Is that a hawk?”
“An eagle.”
“Nice. Beautiful.”
Severan encouraged the calves into the field and they set about munching the grass and flowers. He whistled, and Jess came back to heel, wagging her tail and getting rewarded with a stroke on the head.
Octavian asked, “Can we go and play dens?” The little girl looked up beseechingly too. “Please, daddy?”
Severan mussed her hair. “Of course. Don’t get too dirty and remember to come back when mommy calls.”
“Yes, daddy.” The kids ran away giggling down the lane towards the woods.
“They safe?”
Severan nodded. “Nothing bad here. There are wolves and bears, but they don’t bother people.”
“Sounds like Paradise.”
“It is. Want to come and look round my estate? I’ll show you the bee hives by the river.”
The two ex-comrades strolled through the summer morning. Gaijann broke off a stalk of grass and sucked at its sweetness. “After the war—“ he began.
“The war didn’t end. There’s always war.”
“Yeah but the official war. That’s over. The unofficial wars still go on.”
“I’m not sure the victims see much difference.”
“Trouble is that people got promised so much and not so much got delivered. They remained poor and all the while they saw images and advertising feeds of people who seemed to have everything. So they fell for any kind of old shit that anyone promised them. ‘Let’s make our planet great again...‘ ‘Throw out the freaks and all will be well.’”
“Ever the philosopher Gaij.” Severan grinned at him.
“Have you heard of the Ghazzali?”
“Vaguely.”
“A horde of self-spiced freaks that follow some god called Lō. He’s a god of love. Promises them deliverance.”
“Deliverance from what?”
“Not sure. Not sure they’re sure. People who are different?”
“Well he’s got a short name. Easy to remember. That’s a plus.”
“Yeah, they are ripping through some of the systems in Cygnus. The God of love wants everyone to love him so they raid off-world habitats, moons and occasional planets if they’re not too heavily guarded, and make everyone love Lō.”
“Sounds sweet.”
“Or they kill them.”
Severan was pensive. “Ah yeah. The followers of peaceful religions have a habit of killing people. Still, it’s nothing to do with me.”
They reached a stone bridge. The water flowed fast and clean beneath it.
“Hives are just in the wood eaves.”
Gaijann could already hear the lazy buzzing of the bees. He saw them landing on bright flowers at the wood edge. “Get much honey?”
“Loads.”
“Anyway, as I was saying...”
Severan slapped him on the back. “More politics, eh?”
“The self splicing is the same thing.”
“The same thing what?”
“People searching to mean something. So they mess around with their own DNA. Their bodies are their ‘projects’.”
“Most of them are a mess.”
“As soon as technology becomes available, people will experiment with it.”
“These Ghazzali are self-splicers?”
“Man they are the worst kind of freaks. They behead people, set fire to them, and squash them with rocks, all if they won’t sign up to Lō and his loving ways. They’re barbarians.”
“Yeah but they’re a long way from here.” Severan inspected the exterior of the hives and looked satisfied.
Gaijann said, “I envy you, you know.”
“Come and live here. I could use the help.”
“Maybe one day. But for now, I’d miss the stars, and I’d miss the women.”
“One day you’ll want peace, just like I did.”
“One day, and when that day comes, I’ll be back to take you up on your offer.”
The leaves were turning gold and brown when the boy came. He was eighteen or so. Severan recognized him as the son of the neighboring farmer who lived about five miles distant. He greeted the lad as he came into sight, hurrying and out of breath.
The youth brushed back damp brown hair from his face. He gasped, “The Ghazzali landed near the capital.”
“Oh yeah?” Severan leaned on his hoe. His son Octavian came rushing to see what the fuss was - strangers were a rare sight at the farm.
The farmer’s lad nodded, still catching his breath. “They’ve attacked the capital. Killed hundreds. Forced the survivors to convert to their god.”
Severan shook his head. “The capital’s a long way away.”
“Yes, but they’ll come here too.”
“Maybe. Anyway, how can I help you?”
“You don’t have any comms equipment?”
The giant shook his head.
“The Department of Defense sent word for you.”
“For me?” Severan looked puzzled.
“You’re ex-military - a commander.”
“Ex is the word. I’m a farmer now.”
“Severan, you’ve got to help.”
“I don’t have to do anything.” His face was impassive - not unfriendly - but not offering the kid any joy.
The lad’s face screwed into a frown. “So you won’t help?”
Severan rested his hoe against the wall. Though the season was turning, the day was still warm. Swallows sat on the roof ridge, gathering ready to make their way to the planet’s equator. Calmly Severan asked, “What’s your name?”
“Bawtry.”
“Well, Bawtry. I’ve seen a lot of war. There’s always war - always someone keen to control other people. War comes and goes. It never ends.”
