Bred for War
Sylvon Year 2197 (Indoraptor Year 1269), April, Sylvon space, colony planet Tor-Parmak...
The Sailing Specters, the Army of Little Brothers, the Black Arrows, the New Dawn Riders, those were the names of mercenary and pirate groups who've tried to invade the Union space for months, and they were not the only groups. Some of them did so in search of personal glory and marketable slaves, others did it due to being bound to contracts written by the Silver Blade organization. The spy mistress meticulously archived every mercenary group that the Council of Elders hired. By the time her private spaceship entered the atmosphere of the colony planet Tor-Parmak after twenty-two days of travel from Akantorin, she couldn't help but indulge herself in sky-gazing, examining the unusual rain which soaked the cities of the colony just to get away from the endless paperwork.
It was a multi-biome planet. As the spy mistress once learned, the planet was divided into two major biomes; tropical forests and swamps dotting the equatorial line, and permafrost landscape spanning the rest of the planet; just good enough for the molluscoid species to settle in.
"ETA to colony port 5 minutes."
Right, her schedule on the planet was to assist Councilor Astrax on his unpublicized visit to the colony. To reiterate the councilor's words, he was planning to unveil one of the Assembly's closely-guarded secrets to her, one which involved extensive studies on genetic engineering.
As the ship prepared to land on its destination, the spy mistress glanced one last time outside the window. A massive public transportation network cleaved through the futuristic city, designed by the Assembly's best engineers for over five decades, and depending on one's preferred choice, one may select to either take a taxi, a bus, or a train to get to a destination. And a train was exactly what she would ride today; Councilor Astrax generously purchased her an express, two-way boarding pass for her sojourn on the colony.
Maybe that was simply his way of getting straight to the business, she thought.
Stepping out of the ship, the female Sylvon and her bodyguards continued straight to the decontamination post without a hassle. The rest of the paperwork registration went as swiftly.
The councilor waited for her just outside the port, showing his usual expression of discomfort. The spy mistress recognized it; the disgruntled male was well aware of the sheer magnitude of confidentiality involved in today's agenda.
They both knew how much monetary investment the Council of Elders poured into this undertaking.
"You're here. Good timing, by the way. Shall we continue?"
"Sure."
Following the male Sylvon out of the port, the spy mistress was led straight into a train terminal where an electric train carriage was ready to carry her to their destination. People everywhere walked in and out of the place; some in glitzy robes and togas, others in simple uniforms, all marched without batting an eye to her. Blending in between them would prove to be convenient, the female Sylvon contemplated as she and her escorts made their way to the train. Some instrumental music would be good right now if only to lull her into sleep as the train snaked seamlessly across the rain-soaked city.
"Madam. I haven't given you the details on the facility, have I?"
The male alien announced his presence with a stiff question. "No, you haven't. Care to share more?" the spy mistress questioned back, wondering if she spoke too loud. Stepping closer to the female, Councilor Astrax spoke in a low tone, just clear enough for the spy mistress to catch.
"Long story short, the base is located beneath a national bank; you'll know what bank it is when we arrive on the destination. Back during its construction, the former members of the Council of Elders wanted to expand the area further away from the city, but alas, the builders couldn't finish the base in time before other buildings and towers surrounded it, so they expanded the base underground. The facility is divided into roughly eight sectors, four of which are used for conducting tests and a fifth being divided into separate training arenas." The spy mistress nodded lightly at the information, all the while keeping an eye on the other passengers.
"Is it safe from hazards like orbital bombardment?"
"There is no known natural disturbance in this region, madam. As for invasion attempts, the facility is deep enough to stave off orbital bombardment for a year or two. Security devices and automated guns are installed in many hidden spots to deter enemy soldiers. Failing that, we have a self-destruct system as a last resort," the councilor was rather tentative with the statement, but as long as the spy mistress was sated, he could pretend that all was good.
The train speeded past a pair of glamorous apartment towers, followed by a decorative vista where rich Sylvons would come and take a break from their daily activities. Councilor Astrax glanced at his watch; they had some ten to twelve minutes until the next train station and the mystery bank was in view. They better get ready to depart as the vehicle started decelerating.
When the train stopped at the station, only the councilor, the spy mistress, and her bodyguards departed it, and even then not all of her escorts continued the journey; a few of them were silently mixing in the crowd to scout and secure her way back.
Making their way out of the station, the spy mistress smiled thinly as she realized why Councilor Astrax said she'd know which bank she must enter to access the clandestine compound; the mystery bank was located right in front of her, just across the street! Glossy, imposing, the bank stood in contrast to the other dull-colored constructions around it, as if innocently marking itself as a classified hideout.
The female Sylvon gazed in appreciation at how mundane the masquerade was. People walked back and forth in front of it and never gave the building a second look at all!
No one would try to find a top-secret facility underneath a simple city bank.
"Let's move, madam. We can't be here all day."
Inwardly, the spy mistress had to thank the councilor for having to deal with all the bureaucratic maze protecting this place from unwanted visitors. Identity confirmation, physical scanning by the use of security equipment and paperwork inspections, all of those went slickly thanks to Astrax's vast connections, even though the spy mistress suspected the likelihood of her companion bribing his way before this visitation. There were some instances of the bank's employees eyeing her with a mix of inquisitiveness and fear, but she had no time to return their gazes.
Before long, the inspections were done in record time, and the councilor led her and the bodyguards deeper into the bank, into a wide elevator at the back of the building which the group took to go down into the bowels of the facility.
-x-x-x-x-x-
"Greetings, madam, councilor. I am Dom'Lusam, one of the facility's directors, and today I will accompany you two as we evaluate the experiments we've conducted here for the past six years. Be aware that agents of the Council of Elders are monitoring us non-stop, and that the Intel we'll give you cannot be made available to anyone outside of this place. Are we clear?"
"Affirmative, director."
"Lead the way, please."
Upon their arrival at the compound's lowest level, the spy mistress had to once again appreciate how intricate the design of the base was, no doubt inspired by the rampant paranoia of a future slave uprising and the necessity to rapidly deal with the situation at a moment's notice. Director Lusam certainly didn't bother squandering money on anything not related to the Assembly's continuing existence, but she had to wonder why the director bothered to install plenty of seemingly obsolete equipment in the base. His talks about 'clone armies' would be interspersed by his assistants' commentaries until the group descended a flight of staircase into a tall, long room with oval things lining up the walls.
They were stasis pods, filling the long chamber as far as the spy mistress' eyes could see. The translucent liquid inside them reflected the shine of the chamber's round lamps, emanating dancing green light. It was charming, the spy mistress thought in awe as if the chamber had an artificial aurora that rivaled the mystique of real auroras. But it wasn't the light that charmed her, oh no, but the contents stored within the pods. All that monetary investment and feverish scientific experiments since the age of her predecessors finally grew into something ready to accomplish their purpose.
Cloned foot soldiers. Thousands upon thousands of plain-looking Sylvons were created through extensive genetic engineering in this place. All had no rights as citizens. All were unable to think for themselves. These mindless soldiers were made for a single purpose; war. Their cranial tentacles were very pale, signifying that these things weren't actual people.
Sylvon scientists here and there tended to the pods, ensuring that all cloned soldiers grew correctly according to the required standards. "We wanted them to become much better soldiers than the slave mooks commonly employed by pirate groups out there. Mercenaries everywhere will be paying big money to have these soldiers!" The director spoke rather proudly.
The spy mistress caressed her facial tentacles as she paid close attention to the records provided by Director Lusam. High tolerance level against physical pain, increased endurance and adaptability, very high level of obedience to the point of committing suicide upon orders, able to work for weeks without food or rest... all of those came at the expense of independence, requiring ground commanders to constantly monitor them. Even the director himself was livid at the prospect of selling the clones to the pirate groups while they were imperfect, but the Council of Elders expected results and the mercs wanted their new toys.
"Of course, they still require some gene conditioning before they can be put into any use," Director Lusam elucidated matter-of-factly. Councilor Astrax nodded grimly.
"How long before the clones are ready for live training?" the spy mistress queried, stepping closer to read the plaques put on top of each stasis pods. They showcased some basic information such as a clone's batch number, genomic type, and date of creation. One particular batch intrigued her; the particular set of pods contained scrawny-looking Sylvon clones, not necessarily combat-worthy in appearance but looked innocent and flexible enough to serve as lone assassins or thieves, depending on their assigned missions. Naja would probably be happy to have them as his servants.
"Some batches are scheduled to be ready for training in four months. Others might need five to seven months before they are ready," the councilor traded uncertain glances with a nearby group of scientists.
The spy mistress sniffed. The Council of Elders wouldn't be glad to know that their shady business could be delayed for months, but alas, the cloned soldiers were not super-powered entities. They needed education and training so that her superiors could capitalize on the clones' potential as the Assembly's most profitable product.
"For your information, the researchers are also studying attack animals. Would you like to know more?"
"Attack animals?"
"Affirmative, madam. This way, please."
Director Lusam provided her a data-pad as the group wandered away, containing info on lab-grown war beasts intended to be sold at a higher price than the cloned soldiers. Quite an unfamiliar project they had in here, the spy mistress observed as the scientists led her, her bodyguards, and Councilor Astrax into another wing of the underground facility, a square-shaped zone and a bit brighter than the previous place.
What she witnessed later excited and shocked her simultaneously.
The top-secret scientists really were creating attack animals, and by the stars above, they succeeded! At the center of this new camber were seven enormous steel cages, each held three to four animals designed with the sole purpose of being biological weaponry.
No, 'animal' wasn't the correct word to describe them. The creatures… they were all covered in blood-red scales, they might as well be drenched in real blood. Their heads had four pitch-black eyes that moved independently from each other and long, round jaws hiding nested mouths in them. They were six-limbed; with four spindly legs ending in sickle-clawed feet, and two very long arms with three-fingered hands, all of which made them look like undead monsters craving the flesh of the living. Screeches accompanied by clicking noises emerged from their throats as they behaved pugnaciously toward everything that moved, including their equally-twisted siblings. Long barbed tails sprout from their spines which the spy mistress assumed to be covered in venomous substance… if their curved fangs weren't already so.
"You all did it, you crazy bastards. The mercs are going to pay a lot of money to have even one of these things..."
"And I bet these ugly bastards can rip their heads off in seconds."
Councilor Astrax startled the female Sylvon when he quietly stepped behind her, much to the spy mistress' curiosity. "So, do you think these beasts will scare the aliens?" Astrax asked with a sinister grin.
"Scare them?" the spy mistress questioned back, turning away from the monsters. "These monsters will give anyone nightmares. Can you imagine having 'undead' things chasing you to the ends of the world? I don't, heheh. But back to the topic, I'd be happy if our friends here have our new 'revenants' fitted with tracking sensors so we won't lose track of them. Also, keep some powerful sedatives around just in case they get too untamable." The scientists bowed and scrambled to fulfill her requests.
The woman shifted her attention to the director, who had another file ready for the female to examine; it's a poll from the Assembly's shadiest politicians, asking the Silver Blade leader whether she desired an open war against the alien races anytime soon. The ground zero? Shangri, one of the Union's colonies with alpine biome as the main climate. Two reports forwarded by the politicians specifically mentioned a flower-shaped relic was being transported onto the colony amongst other timeworn artifacts. Another Lotus artifact? Seems like it. The pirate groups, with their immense number of battleships and expendable mooks, were proposed as a large-scale distraction so the Assembly's hitmen could locate and steal the red relic quickly.
"Well, what do you think of this poll, madam?"
"I am itching to say yes, but we'll have to let the clone soldiers and the creatures grow into shape before we put them in live training. Do you think we should arm them with Assembly-approved armaments or do we pull favors from black markets?" The spy mistress asked while typing on her PDA, "Remind me to send mails to Naja. With luck, he'll have plenty of time to organize missions for the chosen ones. You can give the rest of the clones to the eager pirates… with interest, of course."
"Let's split them into two distinct groups; one side will receive standard equipment while the other side gets the black market stuff and special training."
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Indoraptor Year 1269, May, Deep Space Internet Archive...
(RETRIEVING CONVERSATION ARCHIVE...)
(ARCHIVE LOCATED, PLEASE WAIT...)
"Greetings, President Ashford. This is the second time we interact on a private channel."
"The pleasure is yours, Prime Minister. I am very thankful that this channel has been confirmed to be secure by the Republic's technicians. But we can never be too careful, as per your previous suggestion."
"So we're pretty much safe then from those pesky mollusks?"
"Correct. We humans no longer erred on the skeptic side once we finally know for sure the damn mollusks pried our internet here and there for scraps of Intel. I think it's time we begin acting more aggressively. Better safe than sorry, right?"
"Ingenious, Mr. President."
"Thank you, Prime Minister, but let's not dabble around in that."
"Right, my apologies. You are looking for more good news, sir?"
"Yes. For your information, we have identified the pirate fleets responsible for attacking our shared borders. One group is called the Sailing Specters and the other one named themselves the Dauntless Corsairs. They seemingly operate at random, but as it turns out, they are keeping tabs on our patrol fleets so they could determine where and when to infiltrate. Have you ramped up your military strength yet? We over here have, although I remain uncertain of our ability to wage a long war against the Sylvon pirates."
"Eleven major fleets, to be precise. Each of them will be accompanied by shoals of smaller fighter ships, and we are prioritizing on hit-and-run attacks over direct combat. How about foot soldiers, then? All Indoraptor soldiers here are trained to excel in close-quarter combat, although we do have a large contingent of snipers and anti-personnel vehicles, as well as… extraordinary attack animals."
"That's good to know! How are your cyber-warfare capability?"
"Roughly the same level as yours; no super fancy gizmos whatsoever. We may be at a disadvantage here since we don't have Artificial Intelligence as you do. Our only hope is that the Sylvons are not as tech-savvy as both of us. If they are..."
"Hmpf, if I have data on that, we would have gotten our AIs to work on signal jamming technology straightaway."
"Never hurts to start the project early if you want to, Mr. President. Any strategic resources in your ownership? I believe we've gathered some terraforming gases and special ores for ship construction, but nothing really important for the Grand Fleet."
"Betharian stones for energy generators and these weird red crystals that boost our warships' weapon power. Don't ask me how that could happen.Any message from your side about the defense pact, Minister Alven?"
"The three-way alliance? Yeah, to put it mildly, we Indoraptors are going to contribute to army-related matters for the pact. The Avirens vowed to secure as much funding as they could in our decades-long campaign against the Sylvon pirates and whoever is backing them. We're hoping that, should you agree to commit yourselves in this pact, you'll be able to share your technological might with the Polity and the Union. How about your first-contact project, on the other hand?"
"The cat people... sorry, the Navari, after we asked them to contribute something for the upcoming anti-pirate campaign, appealed for a prospect to settle and trade on our colony worlds in exchange for scientific research and assistance to our military, no matter how small. Now, I am mindful of how the Navari species are mostly harmless xenophiles, but for them to live alongside us could spark unneeded conflicts. We Humans could be tetchy around strangers, you know. Our species has yet to make direct contact with alien civilizations until now, but… some people are beginning to show anti-alien views on our internet."
"Hmm... maybe I can pull some favor from the lesser Ministers, but don't raise your hope yet. We're still reeling a little bit from the recent pirate invasions."
"I can probably... uh, damn. Pardon me, but something requires my immediate attention. When do you wish to initiate another conversation?"
"Sometime in October or November, assuming we're still alive."
"Very well. Godspeed, Minister Alven."
"Be on your guard too, President Ashford. A storm is coming."
