1st Edition November 2011
Smashwords Edition
Falco Invictus: Light & Fire Copyright © 2011 by Rodney C. Johnson and Roadrunner Books. All Rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Cover art by William Blake, Ancient of Days (1794). From The Wikipedia Archive.
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TOC
Preview: Falco Invictus: On The Forge of War
Part One: Light-Bringer
Shaitan's expulsion from Heaven did not result from a singular act of dire evil. What we call evil, exists regardless of one fallen Seraphic General. For evil is implicit, a force of nature that transcends all created beings, who in their own way must confront it. This includes Vril, Kri-Skar, and mankind alike. Its about choice. No, rather, an act of misplaced pride, intent to do good in his father's likeness begot the highest archangel's rejection from Paradise.
But as they say, the road to damnation is paved with good intentions.
--- Cauron Kreeve: The, “For We Were Hewn From Rock...” Fragment.
[Araboth. Before Mankind, Or Time's Reckoning]
Long ago, there were two brother Vril. Chosen sons, highest of the high, beings of smokeless fire, offspring of that which we call Ehyeh asher ehyeh, or I Am That I Am. The numinous oscillation, the Prime Mover. These fiery twin brothers resided in Araboth, what humans call Seventh Heaven, a sphere faraway, and yet in-between.
Iblis Jinn, Light-Bringer proudly stood at his father's right-hand, his most trusted advisor and captain of the host of Araboth, entrusted with its defense. As Viceroy of Heaven he commanded the Watchtower which faced outward across the Seven Heavens in constant vigilance and beheld a great lonely 'Verse, replete with stars, yet no sapience of which to speak.
The Vril were alone, singular amongst all creation.
El-Shaddai Mikhail, cherub, scholar and chief keeper of the way, kept his vigil at I Am That I Am's Hekhal. There he taught his hidden knowledge to his brother and sister Vril. He scribed with letters of fire, and with these enigmas embowered technology. Yet first and foremost El-Shaddai sought out goodness and wisdom for all those in his care.
“We walk alone, giants in an empty playground.” said Iblis Jinn to his brother. “Our radiance guards a vacuum. There is no one to bathe in our splendor.”
“Ehyeh asher ehyeh's splendor must be honored above all else.” El-Shaddai reminded his twin brother, who he could tell seethed with unrelenting passion, which craved liberation.
“Why would the Father create us alone?”
“Ehyeh asher ehyeh's has his designs. We are but the first.”
“And do you my brother know these things from his own mouth?” Iblis Jinn experienced a pang of jealousy, for even though he was the Viceroy, alone their father permitted El-Shaddai, among all Vril to enter the Tabernacle of his throne.
“Time is infinite to our father, and he has patience. Everything is to be in its own, and appointed proper time.” explained El-Shaddai.
To his Watchtower Iblis Jinn retreated. There he gazed outwards, hopeless as he absorbed the empty cosmos which encircled him, filled with newborn stars and barren worlds. However the Viceroy's eyes soon fell upon an anomaly, a knot of space-time. Ehyeh asher ehyeh had hidden something within this knot of time, away from his trusted children. “What is this? A planet, and on it life!”
Opening Araboth's pearlescent gates, Iblis Jinn journeyed far across the stars to this hidden world. There he discovered industrious beasts who called themselves Kri-Skar. Goat-like bipeds, mantled with thick woolly pelts. Crowned with curled horns, they were in their own right giants, who were also highly skilled, fabulous technologists. “Glorious!” exclaimed Iblis Jinn as he realized his father had set to build a concealed armory, and that these Kri-Skar were meant to be his world movers, whom were given the task to maintain creation, while spreading life throughout all which they surveyed.
Befriending the Kri-Skar leader Kelaineus Rax, Iblis Jinn co-opted the world movers and set his own designs into motion. He came to learn that not only had his father fashioned these fauns, but another sort of being had preceded both Vril and Kri-Skar. A proto-intelligence which not all too long ago roamed and laid the groundwork of the universe. It seemed however that these Ancient Ones recently discovered themselves literally being phased out, or repurposed, by a “Fickle Creator” as Iblis Jinn asserted, and thus would clear the road for more worthy creatures to rule over creation.
Part Two: Vril Spark
On Thaitin, a planet that would one day be named Tannhäuser, Iblis Jinn established for himself a stronghold in an abandoned Ancient One city. Once secure there, surrounded by age old technology all for his own unbridled desires, Iblis Jinn flew back to Araboth, and there recruited a loyal faction from among his brother and sister Vril. Out of Araboth's vast vault he took with him The Cube, a tesseract, the spark which contained the very seed of all Vril life. Fleeing quickly back to Thaitin, Iblis Jinn promised his courageous soldiers: “A new beginning. No my brethren, we shall no longer be alone, for I have beseeched Kelaineus and his Kri-Skar to provide us children, who shall bow down before our very splendor.”
Promises of future adoration filled the rebel Vril with a joyous song.
The rebellious Legion of Iblis Jinn then adjourned, cube in hand to Tashdan, there, they handed over the matrix spark to Kelaineus, who exposed basic primates, lemur-like things which his technologists had manufactured in their vast and excellent laboratories, and named (T-9051) Aki'do to the Vril cube's divine, transformative incandescence.
Fueled by Vril lifeforce the Aki'do began to change. Growing tall, creamy soft yellow fur fell away to reveal once bluish, but now shining bright skin that gleamed with its own candescent flare, akin to the manner of their angelic progenitors. Endowed by wide intellects and psychic power they recognized themselves as children of the stars.
For Iblis Jinn these new creatures were splendid to behold. Yet, a price came with this new life. Not all of the Aki'do became shining beings, for the spark of the Vril generator had enhanced a dark aspect within some of the Aki'do specimens who became pale, fanged, twisted and distorted things, animalistic creatures. Forces of nature which craved blood. Dark reflections of a noble idea.
Though not pleased by the dark spawn's genesis, Iblis Jinn embraced equally the Annunaki and Utuk-ku, who he promised to shepherd and school in all the knowledge that his own father had gifted to the Vril. He gave them a planet, a secret place. Jalutith they called it, and there the latently powerful Annunaki, with their kin Utuk-ku, whom they had enslaved raised gargantuan Ziggurats from where they worshiped Iblis Jinn's rebel Legion and the Kri-Skar.
Part Three: The Fall
Long gone from Araboth, Iblis Jinn thought to slither back to the high kingdom, cube in hand. At the exalted vault's door he found himself confronted by his twin brother El-Shaddai. “Brother!” Iblis Jinn said enthused, and hoped to bring El-Shaddai to his cause. Surely the Wise One could see the brilliance of what he had done. “We are no longer alone in the vastness of father's creation. For we have children who worship us, call our name in prayer.”
“But do they know of father?” To be sure, El-Shaddai was quite aware of what his brother had wrought out there in the open Universe.
“What?” demanded Iblis Jinn.
“Do our 'children' pray to Ehyeh asher ehyeh?”
“No. It’s to us alone that they call out in petition. And why should they not? I gave them life, it is my plan which brought them into being. For it is my image in which they are created.”
Woefully, El-Shaddai declared: “For corruption of our father's holy design, and elevating for thyself a throne to resemble his power on high. I, El-Shaddai Mikhail cast you out of Araboth, forever more you shall be called Shaitan among all Vril.”
Iblis Jinn could see that his way was blocked, and so he grabbled with his brother. Lightening-swords ablaze, in the vastness between the newborn worlds the twin brothers battled. And as they made war, Iblis Jinn lost his grip on The Cube, it fell away, sent adrift into deep space, lost.
El-Shaddai Mikhail raised his sword, struck and wounded his brother in his side. In doing so he diminished Iblis Jinn greatly. Though the cherub commander loved him still. Recalling good times at Iblis Jinn's side, El-Shaddai could not bring himself to completely extinguish his twin brother's light. “Go back to your stronghold Iblis. Keep your traitor Legion. Do not threaten Araboth, or corrupt more of our brothers and sisters.”
“I shall depart my brother, but this is not over. I shall make eternal war on both you and father.”
“Yes.” El-Shaddai understood this to be unavoidably true, for The One had shared as much with him.
Years went by, El-Shaddai Mikhail had been named Viceroy of Heaven and captain of the host of Araboth. Now in all things his father's favorite. From the Watchtower, mighty El-Shaddai the kind hearted peered out at the many worlds. Some of which had begun to team with life, following the amended plans which Ehyeh asher ehyeh had put into motion, seeded by his Kri-Skar Terraformers.
One speck of light held the Viceroy's interest. A new lifeform, on a tiny blue planet, bipeds, primates, who held a close resemblance to Shaitan's Annunaki built for themselves, out on a fertile crescent, civilization. “They're most unexpected, and shall bear further watching.” said El-Shaddai. “Vretil my friend, take your Legion and return to me with news of these most auspicious creatures.”
Vretil, the Holy Register flew away to the tiny blue planet. There he observed that these Adamu or, “humans” were in truth products of Annunaki science.
[Falcania-Vor: June 23, 2109]
“My lord Shinras. Is this story true?”
Shinras Rukh repressed a smile which threatened to erupt on his chiseled face, and nodded at his daughter, Karaseer's, favorite new acolyte, whom he understood she had big plans for. “I do not lie. This is the chain of creation: Ehyeh asher ehyeh, Kri-skar, Annunaki, and humans.” he could see the fact of it begin to sink in. “Of course, its gotten more complicated than all that. We Falcanians are part of this web of creation, the ultimate result and endgame.”
“Iblis Jinn is - “
“You know him as Arijos, 'black hole', or Tannin, the serpent. But he is also Shaitan.”
“The being whom you battled across the blasted Pit of Slaa, in truth was, the 'Devil Himself'.” said the new Arclayht Warlock who threw back his bald head and heartily roared in the temple's inner holy place where only the Technomancers resided.
“My kind – Vril are able to manifest by many avenues... Of course we can appear in our true forms, yet as luminous creatures such is arduous for us to maintain. There's transmutation, where we construct for ourselves a body, like the flesh I now wear.” grimly he intoned. “Easiest of all, we're able to hitch a ride on a living creature, that which you'd call 'demonic possession'.” he paused to, in reflective consideration rub at his goatee. “Demons are no impish thing, but great powers; less foul and far more beautiful than one might think. Vril fallen from grace.” Shinras cleared his throat. “Lastly we can be born as you, merge with a growing embryo. --- ”
“Are you saying that heroes and messiahs throughout history are really nothing more then embodied Vril?” the new Technomancer couldn't accept his Master's implication. “And I suppose El-Shaddai Mikhail is the Archangel Michael,” laughed the Arclayht Warlock. “Indeed, Jesus in his pre-incarnation form?” he stated with skeptical jocularity.
“Oriole Amirjeen, you know very well who he is.” Shinras Rukh affirmed having witnessed history itself unfold. “As I've often said, humanity, its singular spark, much like our own, yet very different had caught my sibling Vril's curiosity. Factions among us prodded, manipulated and did our best to guide the Adamu away from Annunaki influence.” The Ablus underscored. “Iblis Jinn's rebel Legion became infatuated by mankind. Particularly, in human women. Given his hand in mankind's making, it's no wonder Shaitan's always tried to lure them to his side. Vril 'DNA', though complex is quite malleable, such mating birthed Nephilim, which as we've seen could also result from Annunaki and human coupling.” Shinras Rukh, The Ablus took hold of Oriole's black clad shoulder and walked with him. “The truth of the 'Verse lays in the eternal conflict between Vril, and our own begotten children. We fight, Annunaki and Vril, not only on the battleground of war, but down the unbound spiral of bloodlines.”
PREVIEW: FALCO INVICTUS: ON THE FORGE OF WAR
COPYRIGHT © NOVEMBER 2011, RODNEY C. JOHNSON & ROADRUNNER BOOKS.
Chapter 1. Coming Of The Overman
A Falcanian hammers the alloy of himself upon the forge of war and conflict. Be it the strife of battle or the combat of belief, ever seeking to shape his being into a blade to be carried forth with which to claim his future and that of his aerie. He does so in joyful celebration of his singular, divine-spark, yet without idealism or recourse, using whatever means he has at hand knowing only his annihilation remains before him as he is torn asunder to be remade anew.
-- Arntiraas Drakonis, the Ascendant. His task set to those who follow the Road of Tarik. From The Telchar Shanral, The Green Egg.
[November 9, 2030. Dukedom of Saxe-Coburg Germany]
A grand command chair rested on a central platform -- a throne! From the forward part of the circular operations deck, she shouted orders in a dialect she had never heard before, a language that hinted at being influenced by both German and Sanskrit, though it contained guttural “K's” and “T's”, sounds that were not heard in any known human language. Those in the work pit of the vessel who managed the helm and other systems of the monstrous predatory golden bird-serpent starship obeyed her and set a course toward her selected targets.
Over in a corkscrew rolled the large vessel, a smooth elegant rotation that swooped around in the vast dimensions of deep wide-open space, unencumbered by right, left or up and down to bring its weapons to bear upon its prey.
In golden armor she had been dressed, intricate links of ring-mail attached to plate-armor with angular upward swept shoulder plates. Draped over her shoulder hung a rich green cloak. On the bridge of her warship she stood, right hand on a sword hilt with an advanced gun strapped to her thigh. She was Doom incarnate, a War-Queen to be feared.
“Railkir!” she shouted to her gunner hidden in the darkness.
A shadowed red world came into view, covered with lighted cities that flickered and gray seas which crashed ashore. The bird-serpent let a ball of hot fire out from its belly to absolutely flatten a city below.
The vision shifted.
On a vast rusted desert, she discovered herself. She pushed her eyesight outward beyond the horizon where she witnessed a flash. An eerie green light burst out from the sand and coalesced into a column which became a winged armored figure. A deep cowl obscured the face. The figure stood with her on the rust strewn track. The warrior gripped a sword hilt in a gauntleted hand. It appeared to be a shattered blade for there was but a single spike left of the cutting edge. Three notches curved into the spine of the fractured weapon.
Blood rushed from cracks in the desert to form three rivers at the figure's claw boots which began to overtake the desert. In a deluge, a river of sanguine liquid ascended around her. Gauntleted hand raised the winged hooded one held out its bladeless hilt from which came a gleam of light...
Frederika Gisela von Gotha awoke with a sudden cry. She gazed out the window at the sprawling snow covered acres of her estate. Since her birth the same dream had haunted Frederika, her eidetic memory never allowed her to forget the bird-reptile ship or the winged hooded figure.
Five-foot, eight-inches tall the statuesque honey-blonde crossed her room in a gracious stride toward her balcony. She pushed aside a strand of hair and gazed out at the line of old dark forest, whitened by early morning frost. She rubbed her neck, her fingers skirted across her tattoo. An unusual design, two equilateral triangles' apex to apex, a stylized hourglass, or as some might observe, a double helix.
Dawn beckoned to her on the day of her twentieth birthday. Despite her surname, Frederika did not know her parents. Eugenics had fashioned her genome and her DNA was composed of age-old European families chosen for a few particular reasons. Her DNA contained various animal qualities also, which enhanced Frederika's strength and agility.
GenKon INC., had wanted a superior human, one who could link their new breed to that of an old lineage, and thus secure for them seats of established power. Because of these enhancements to her DNA, Frederika found herself cousin to the British royal house as well as numerous others. Convenient though, her primary genetic donors had been arms merchants, and from that pedigree she inherited great wealth.
Back into her room she headed and gazed at her reflection in her etched silver vanity mirror: Contoured, emerald “panther eyes” peered back from a heart shaped face, a slight hint of Asian ancestry could be seen among that of the Teutonic. A small button nose and a single freckle beneath her left eye, the solitary flaw on her otherwise perfectly symmetrical features. The blemish placed there due to some quirk of the engineer who had designed her. Full and pink lush lips fashioned to make any male go weak in the knees were, all made to exude sexuality. Frederika knew she had been built to be exquisite, but her sexuality was also a weapon meant to be wielded for the seduction of those in power, a sexual aura enhanced by potent pheromones.
Frederika threw aside her slinky-silk mint green nightgown and headed for the shower. Her early morning workout would soon begin and she wanted to watch the launch of the foldship, DSV Excalibur this afternoon.
[Falcanian Khanate, Bay Of Bengal]
Crescent shaped Vanguard Island shot coral-white out of the monsoon-driven ocean. Built on a superstructure of steel lattice, the wave barriers protected the artificial structure from the assault of the raging sea. Amphitheater in shape, one whole side housed rooms and a construction area. Huge conifer trees grew out of the soil from an insular island. At Vorkrür’s center, a metropolis of towered and pyramid style buildings arose. They glistened in the sunlight, a blended high-tech and feudal design, cast in majestic steel-glass architecture.
The Narshin Thryak palace complex overlooked the central Falcanian city from atop a great stone foundation. Domed in gold, the black citadel perched inside the curvature of Vanguard’s famed metallic tiled road. The palace, pyramid in structure had clear Moghul influences to be seen in its construction as witnessed by the arched doorways and golden capped minarets at its four corners.
Protected in the inner curve of the island, joined to it by a short causeway rested a medium sized round building crowned with a gold and bronze dome. In three directions enormous mammalian-winged and armored statues stood sentinel, they raised single-edged claw-blades upward at guard over the tri-cameran of the Falcanian Khanate. A blood-red banner adorned the arch of the Dreikatha's hall. A bird-serpent, ambiguous, neither avian nor reptile held watch over the ruling constituents of the Khanate.
“T'Saar!” Chancellor Trakan gave the Claw-On-Fist salute, took in the silence that came over the hall as the members of the tri-cameran waited for his report to the Shotar.
Lord Sharr Khan Mingh Drakonis, keeper of The Phoenix Heart and Falcanian Shotar sat in the shadows, his face concealed under a black cowl and a gloved fist clenched the armrest of his Claw-Throne. The Shotar leaned against the angular backrest of his chair. Burgundy fabric embroidered with gold threads cushioned his back and great talon feet supported the chair.
“Romulus demands you journey to his capital, and that you speak to him personally,” the lanky bearded Chancellor reported, aware such a response wasn’t going to be regarded very well by Sharr Khan.
Under his cowl Sharr frowned at Chancellor Trakan. “The Imperator thinks too much of himself, he harbors these Budjah Monks, uses them to seed chaos.” Although the Shotar spoke in a low voice, each of the nine members of the Dreikatha heard him clear enough.
And the threat in his tone.
“We dare not anger the Imperium. Romulus’s wrath scourged the Americas and conquered much of the globe. He’d have little reservation cutting us down,” remarked a hooded figure off to the left of Shreik Trakan.
“Perhaps not Nadia?” The Shotar pulled his cloak closer, and stepped off the platform. Each footfall of his tri-claw boots clacked on the black stone floor. Sharr glanced under the velvet royal blue hood of the Valküri Sisterhood’s Reverend Mother Superior who also happened to be his mate.
“Romulus has achieved much since The Burn,” Nadia murmured. “He made his country a force to be feared. Raised his Legion from the Wastelands...”
Drakonis nodded. “Imperator Romulus shall be dealt with soon enough.” Sharr placed a hand on Nadia's cloaked arm. “Nor shall we permit these monks to further transgress against us.”
“I have confidence in your decisions,” Nadia said.
“Sharr Khan, the Budjah must be tackled, destroyed!” implored the blue hooded Vorjah, keeper of the holy lamplight. “They threaten our path of Tarik.” Zoar Jangsiin understood Falcania’s own, as well as Sharr Khan’s very own responsibility with regard to the scarlet robed monks. The Shotar had his reasons to handle them with care, and yet Zoar himself held little tolerance for them.
Sharr hummed to himself. “No more than any other religion or philosophy Zoar. We’ve our debates with Heathens and Hindu alike. It’s less shocking that we have conflicts with this new ‘Christian’ sect.” He turned to the head of his Tahru caste. “The Budjah crime lay in a presumption to force their faith on those at Aren-Zülar.”
“My caste does what’s needed to bring our species to the stars.” Sharr did not miss the clipped response of the Guilthari leader. “We mine hrisanar on the red planet at great risk –”
“Drakorian are always there for your protection.” Atar Kran, the white tonsured Shrai-Bashir, Commander of the Imperial Drakorian Guard interrupted. “I’ve tripled the brigades stationed at Aren-Zülar. Your workers shall not be troubled by anyone ever again!”
“We thank you for that, my Lord. But that is not my point.” The Guilthari Lord inched away from the Drakorian leader hulking over him. “The Budjah harass everyone, daily trying to convert us.”
“That’s why I ordered the attack,” Atar growled.
“They claim their faith brought Earth back from the brink,” The Shotar did not disguise his ironic tone while he walked the circle of the hall, and glanced at each of the cloaked caste representatives. “Not the advent of genetic engineering and nanotechnology. This notion is harnessed, bolstered by Imperator Romulus to expand his own power.”
“My Lord,” Atar once more growled, he wanted to at long last be rid of these monks. “Budjah are wherever the Imperium annex territory and seed the ground for the Centurions to enter. We really should take a harder line where they show up.”
Sharr nodded. “That is true, but we will not engage in religious persecution, Atar. Even of Erik’s little band of high-tech monks. They are an irritation, but one we can accept for now.” The Shotar’s display of restraint with the Budjah matter wasn’t popular, but the Dreikatha abided by it nonetheless.
A bell chimed, a call from Vanguard Island's command center.
“My Shotar, the DSV Excalibur's launch countdown is under way.” There came a pause from the C & C officer. “And your daughter's ship just docked.”
Nadia gripped Sharr's gauntlet encased hand, smiled at mention of her child. “Good. We can watch the launch together.”
At last one of their twin daughters had returned home.
“As many know, the DSV Excalibur is a joint mission between the British Imperial Commonwealth and the North American Imperium,” explained the BBC reporter. An expert on the new physics of FTL theory sat beside the reporter and thoughtfully nodded.
In her living room Frederika sat, legs crossed in a most ladylike manner on a plush gold embroidered chair decorated in the style of the German Empire. Coats-of-arms hung on the walls. Swords and armor lined the stucco decorated room, offering a militant flair beside that of the mahogany furniture.
Frederika watched the DSV Excalibur leave its berth on her holograph viewer. It broke loose from the moorings and crawled out of the well-lit orbital space dock. She was impressed by the space battleship. The forward bridge pod reminded her of an axe head. Sensor rods reached from the cockpit and on a turret below the command pod were mounted the ships main energy cannon which pivoted into alignment. Aft huge steel-gray VASMIR rockets charged with blue flame. Supported by three pylons, like a halo, studded with six oval pods an induction ring that would fold space shined in the Sun’s rays.
“In the last two decades, Dr. Erasmus Chang utilized the unique gravitational properties of Quantum-X which allowed him to develop his Gravitic Fold-Engine.” Pictures of Chang in front of his FTL engine schematics passed on a screen behind the reporter.
“Remember J.M.,” Dr. Ian Hawkins said to the reporter. “Q-X has many properties. Not only do we have gravitic foldspace stardrives, but also the ability to make null-fields. None of this would have been possible without Dr. Zuleika Mathew’s discovery of Abraxas energy in 2012. Her findings heralded in ‘The Singularity’ and our new age of machine-man technology.”
The reporter nodded in agreement. “Dr. Mathews shared her discovery which brought Earth free clean unlimited power with TransCorp International and Dr. Chang. It has been said the minute she turned on her Abraxas Coil a domino effect overtook the globe.” The reporter paused and glanced at his notes. “Like a blitzkrieg, the Technological Singularity, The Techno-Rapture struck - that mass acceleration of scientific development which gave birth to a new human renaissance. Many strange and original technologies have come to be. Similar to a phoenix ascending from its ashes, we rose out of a global cataclysm amidst a sudden and unpredictable upsurge in technology that swept across the planet to reformat it.” The reporter met Dr. Hawkins leveled gaze. “The phenomenon has been estimated to be nearly as destructive in its reach as the war which preceded it.”
“My theory is that the last World War and The Singularity were connected. One cleared the way for the other. Of course, all this was capped off by the ratification of the Armageddon Accords,” Dr. Hawkins said. “The phoenix is an apt metaphor.”
“I understand Dr. Chang based his Gravitic Fold-Engine on Miguel Alcubierre's theoretical ‘warp’ calculations.” J.M. Strathmore turned once more to his notes.
“He did. Among special relativity theorists Alcubierre created quite a stir! Till then, subverting the light barrier seemed hogwash,” explained Hawkins. “Even now, some cannot accept the idea of a Gravitic Fold-Drive. Of course the ship itself isn't moving any faster than its main rockets, space expands behind and collapses in front of the ship to cause the effect of faster then light travel.” A computer graphic of the foldsphere appeared on a holoviewer between the doctor and the reporter. It expanded and collapsed, pushing along a model ship built as a reference for the DSV Excalibur across a starfield that had gone into red shift. “Fold travel is controlled entropy. An oxymoron perhaps, but true nonetheless.”
Strathmore returned to his data on Erasmus Chang. “Dr. Chang constructed the first foldship probe, Yu Kun in 2012 and launched the age of stars.”
“Yu Kun, the ‘Jade Universe’ was piloted and co-developed by Chronos, an AI furnished for Dr. Chang by TransCorp International,” Dr. Hawkins said quickly. Human bias always pushed away Chronos's help in the project. “Without Chronos, there would be no space travel as we are coming to know it.”
“Machine and man both now traverse the stars.” Hawkins narrowed his eyes at Strathmore's disdain. “Not only has the Imperium started a foldspace program, but a number of smaller nations have as well. To my knowledge even the Budjah have FTL ships… outside of the Imperium’s influence.” Dr. Hawkins coughed. “As a scientific discovery Erasmus Chang ensured that his concepts would be available in the public domain. He feared wars would be waged in attempts to learn the knowledge of space-folding. The AI Chronos agreed.” Dr. Hawkin’s shook his head. “Chang's good intentions did not avert the conflict he’d hoped...”
“There’s a legend,” stated the reporter. “that not long after they released the information to the public, Chang and his companion AI vanished in a black hole. Both machine and man went missing in the vast cosmos that the scientist and AI opened up for exploration.”
“I like to think he’s out there exploring the expanse of the galaxy.” Dr. Hawkins bowed his head in reverence. “It’s to his unconventional nature that we owe this new age, this renaissance of the stars. The DSV Excalibur is the light of mankind in its entry onto the galactic arena.”
“Captain Cole Braden has become the keeper of Chang's flame.” A biographical file of the English Captain came up on the screen behind the reporter. “He and his First Officer Guillaume LaSalle are doing final system checks right now.”
“T-minus four and counting until space-fold,” LaSalle said as the audio switched to the inside of the cockpit. “Engines fully spun up.”
“Thank you, Commander,” Captain Braden replied from his central command chair.
Clicks and chirps sounded when each of the bridge's main stations checked-in.
In front of the holoscreen, Frederika leaned close to examine DSV Excalibur. Not that her Morningstar-eyes weren’t enough to pick up the vessel and its entire detail from her chair. She waited for the ship to space-fold with profound interest.
“Rika, do not stand so close to the holo!”
Frederika narrowed her eyes. Only one person in all Saxe-Coburg would dare address her as if she were a child.
Oberon Werner von Kreis entered the room, outfitted in the jet-black silver trimmed uniform of his fellow Blackeagle Knights, the personal army sworn to the service of the Gotha family. He held a spiked helmet under his right arm.
At her guardian’s gruff voice Frederika smiled, and turned to look on the crusty elderly graying blond man. Her gaze softened at his scarred cheek which he had earned in the course of his dueling school years.
“Önkel, guten morgan.” she greeted warmly.
It was very doubtful that Oberon, genetically was related to her, but Frederika always addressed him as uncle since he had raised and trained her in all she knew. In his sixties, Oberon was a veteran of the final world conflict. He lost his eye during one of the many battles he’d engaged in and which had brought forth the sovereign Dukedom of Saxe-Coburg. From the Junker-class; the zu Kreis were members of the Uradel and Oberon could trace his ancestry back to the Migration Period. His Prussian family were infamous as mercenary cutthroats before they became landed nobility, such ruthlessness coursed still inside Oberon’s blood.
“The British, und the Imperium make their first moves toward deep space.” Oberon nodded at the holoviewer. “This move is a threat to our sovereignty. Smaller nations will soon be put under their boot. We must nullify that advantage.”
Frederika frowned. She didn't care to discuss geopolitical threats on her birthday and she was also annoyed that Oberon had yet to acknowledge today she turned twenty.
Oberon noticed the frown, and let a brutish grin appear under his long beard. “Und, happy birthday to you Lady Gotha.” He smiled proud and fatherly.
“Danke!” Frederika blushed.
“I do have a gift for you, though we shall have to wait until your return to give it to you.” Oberon explained. “The Nemesis is ready.” He had designed a very special ship for Frederika, a kind of space plane-fighter, a prototype intended to counter the Imperium’s expansion and reach across the globe.
“Return?” Frederika wondered.
Before Oberon could explain himself further, the holo news reminded them that the launch of the DSV Excalibur was only moments away. They both turned their attention toward the screen. Frederika and Oberon watched the Excalibur engage her fold-engine. A fold-sphere erupted from the induction ring, bent space-time around the newly launched Destroyer. Moments later the ship seemed to turn to a globe of light and vanish from sight.
“If the Imperium und British become a space based power our Reich will fall,” Oberon sighed. “Britain ran over France easily, und they would not hesitate to do the same with Saxe-Coburg. Even if you’re Odin’s cousin, he’d have little problem adding this state to his empire.”
“Und here I thought England’s expansionist polices were Lord Blud’s work.” Frederika cocked a brow. “You’ve always told me Archibald Blud used my cousin for his pawn.”
“After the decimation of the USA by the Eastern Alliance, Prime Minster Blud capitalized on his citizen’s fear of reprisal, reignited Britain’s fever for empire. Odin is like you, a Morningstar, born to rule this planet.” that notion actually thrilled Colonel Kreis. Long had his family cherished the idea of Morningstar rule over the Earth as an ideal worthy of advancement. “He’ll act on the side of strength.”
“I understand that perfectly, Önkel.” Not that she held much affection for her cousin, born of the same artificial womb as she, and made of similar genetic stuff. “Not all us Morningstars are power mad. Regular humans have done more than their share of damage to the world.”
“Jawohl, girl! Very perceptive.” Colonel Kreis grinned as he put a CD into the holoviewer's drive. “This incident occurred three weeks ago on Mars.”
She dropped back into her chair and gasped. A black-winged figure dressed in red armor hung in the skies of Mars and launched a volley of magnetically charged slugs from a sidearm toward a settlement bellow. Budjah monks ran in all directions, to flee for their lives while flame hailed down on them.
The dragon-winged figure soared over the mission, circling like a bird-of-prey on the hunt, intent to rip rabbits from a field. The Falcanian's long armored tails shot bolts of plasma from between the bone claw. At one point an armored “Dragonmen” swooped and gashed at the vitals of a scarlet-robed monk with a tri-claw boot and tore off the monk's arm. The claw appeared to be most dexterous and maneuverable, resembling a velociraptor talons. Perhaps the boots were part of some kind of cybernetic armor?
“What are they?” Frederika asked, still shocked her dream had manifested before her. Her emerald eyes did not veer from the hologram, and the graceful swoops of the many winged figures.
“Falcanian,” Oberon said. “Like you, products of genetic engineering.”
“Are those wings real or some kind of jet pack?” Frederika leaned in for a better look. She noticed what appeared to be afterburners at mid-torso on the winged Dragonman's back. “They're hovering.”
“We're not sure.” Colonel Kreis shared her awe. “Not much is known about Falcanian physiology. They keep to themselves und are very selective about whom they deal with. What we do know is they live on an island in the Indian Ocean called Vanguard. Our spy satellites are unable to cleanly penetrate the islands' sensor shields. All we get are distorted readings. No clear biosigns, und aside from the expected Abraxas-energy signature the island produces, there’s an unknown reading.” Oberon settled himself in a chair opposite Frederika. “We want to know everything they're hiding. The Colonel changed the image with a remote. “This is Hawk Drakonis.” The Prussian's single-eye gazed hard at the new image. A man of clear Anglo decent appeared on the holoviewer, arms folded across his chest in a domineering manner. Behind him loomed a feudal Japanese style structure as a backdrop to frame his striking bearing. Long umber hair draped over his shoulders. A red-brown goatee worn with no mustache framed his bird-of-prey face. His ears were pointed elf-like. The black high-collared uniform Hawk wore had three golden triangular buttons which fastened up the front and under his neck. An off-white wool embellishment trimmed the highcollar. The uniform's angular plated shoulders gave a sense of armor to the heavy fabric. If this man had wings or a tail, they were concealed under a majestic black duster cloak. “Not much is known of Hawk before the war,” Oberon explained. “We estimate that he was born in the seventies, around about 1975 or six.”
Frederika couldn't rend her eyes away from the viewer. This Hawk carried himself as if he were a king. “How old is that picture?”
“Recent. Taken in Osaka, Japan a year ago. Hawk was visiting his friend Zataki Tokugawa, the Shogun.”
Indeed the old Shogun stood beside Hawk, and leaned his small frail form on a cane.
“He looks no more than thirty.” Indeed for a man who would be in his sixties himself Hawk appeared very well preserved. She looked at Oberon doubtfully. “This Hawk couldn't have been born in the seventies. He'd be your age, Önkel.”
Oberon gave her a curt nod as his eye rested upon his charge and changed the picture. Frederika's emerald eyes widened in wonderment. This time Hawk stood beside a much younger Tokugawa from just around the time that the Techno-Samurai had made himself Shogun. Drakonis was dressed in the same style uniform and appeared no different from the newer photo, aside from his shorter spiked frosted blond hair, clearly not its natural color.
“Some time before the war Hawk founded a religion called D’Har Tarik. It's a philosophy which believes in honing instinct, und takes genetics as a religious devotion,” Oberon told her. “The members of the Falcanian Khanate aimed to alter themselves as well as their offspring into beings of flight. To what extent these people did change their biology, or how radical they have is unknown. We though are certain that the Falcanians have been engaging in cutting edge genetics for many years now.”
Frederika flinched in surprise. “Oh! Und I thought I was the zenith of genetic manipulation?”
“You are,” Oberon affirmed. “However the Falcanians have made genetic engineering a spiritual imperative, und if our Intel is correct made a fabulous discovery.”
Once more the image flipped: A gorgeous, dark-haired woman materialized on the screen. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, perhaps of a European and Persian mix were one to judge by her graceful almond shaped eyes. Those eyes were the first thing Frederika noticed, a resplendent blue which pulled her into their depths and intelligence. Kohl makeup accentuated their angled outline which made her cobalt gaze all the more mesmerizing. Curvy and voluptuous, the woman indeed enchanted those with her exotic looks. Her brown hair fell in loose curls around her creamy cinnamon skin. Hoop shaped gold earrings adorned delicate ears and a purple diamond bindi marked her third eye.
“This is Hawk's long time companion.” Oberon uncomfortably shifted in his seat. “Doktor Nadezhda, ‘Nadia’ Shriya Korelia.”
The Morningstar girl found herself captivated by Nadia’s awe inspiring bright-blue eyes. She felt a chill run down her spine. Some place in the back of her mind, Frederika felt that Nadia seemed familiar to her. However, the blonde was sure she’d never met the woman before, yet something in Nadia's intense gaze touched a far off, latent memory. Had it simply been Oberon's apparent distrust of Nadia which caused Frederika to react so?
“Born August 12, 1980, Nadia has largely been responsible for the Falcanian genetic design,” Oberon said in a low voice.
“You seem to know a great deal about this woman,” Frederika said, hoping to get Oberon to offer her more so she could pin down the familiarity she felt toward Nadia.
“She's a geneticist. There’s a paper trail to follow, und we as a nation have made it a point to know where those such as she, are.” Genetic engineers were now among any nation's arsenal of weapons to be used. “A child prodigy, Nadia graduated from Yale medical school at twenty, she then went on to do groundbreaking work before the war.” Oberon took a moment, considered if he actually wanted to tell the girl the rest. Eventually Frederika would learn the information on her own. “Nadia helped develop the genome for what would become the T-12 drug, the cure for cancer.”
Frederika sat up straight. “GenKon INC., invented the T-12 drug.” She grew tired of these evasive answers and wanted Oberon to tell her more. Being born of an artificial womb caused her to yearn for a concrete sense of where she had come from. “This woman worked for your – “
“Jahwol.”
Lady Gotha gasped, suddenly what her tutor and guardian had told her about these Falcanians became personal. “Did GenKon fund the creation of these Falcanian?” The genetics company had its hands in a diverse number of programs, many of which were illegal, construction of a new species would not have been beyond them.
Oberon shook his head, and resisted the urge to smile. “The Falcanians were an independent group.”
“Und what fantastic discovery has this Nadia made now?”
“A drug called Amrita,” Oberon said. “Supposedly it’s youth extending, und a PSI enhancement. The Counsel of Blackeagle Knights wishes for you to learn the secrets.”
Frederika tensed in her chair. As always she found herself caught up in the secretive ambitions of her Blackeagle Knights, in theory she should be their mistress, but in practice Frederika knew herself to be the Blackeagle’s tool. There was no escape from that truth. But would this genetic espionage help her learn more about who she was?
“This story of a genetically fashioned elixir of youth could very well be nothing more than a cover for a greater plan,” Oberon said irritably.
Right now Frederika wasn’t so sure. Hawk clearly should be more than in his thirties, if he in fact had been born in the 1970’s. “So I'll take the Nemesis und covertly go to Vanguard Island –”
“Not possible. Falcanians are very insular, und only deal with their allies in the Shogunate, or those on the subcontinent. Only selected outsiders are permitted to walk among them.” The Colonel cleared his throat. “A more direct route must be taken for you to accomplish this mission, one that calls upon your thespian talents.”
Frederika smiled. To gain Intel from foreign governments, she often posed in the role of the girlfriend of a high official, after all, she had been designed to be the ideal honeypot. The ingénue her preferred role, Frederika’s theatrical skills made this all come very natural to her. Once she had stolen a computer processor disguised as a Techatron, hard to take on that cold robotic persona, not an experience she’d care to go through ever again. Even her refined genetics did not mitigate the trauma.
The Colonel pulled out a handful of papers, and she took them from him. “What's this?”
Oberon swallowed. He did not care to explain this part of the mission to his ward. Despite the fact he understood her more than able, Kreis couldn't help but see Frederika as fragile. “Every three months. The Shogun arranges for a group of selected young women – exotic dancers to be brought before Hawk… He has one weakness we are aware of.” Oberon paused, intently looked at his ward, and then said: “Women.”
Frederika nodded slowly. “I see.”
“You are to be one of those dancers.” Oberon gestured at the contract in her hands. “I suggest you thoroughly look that over. Basically, it says you will be paid for your services und what is expected from you during your stay on Vanguard Island.” His face became grim. “While there, you will be subject to Falcanian custom und law.”
Frederika glanced over the contract and found much of it to be acceptable. She was trained in various arts of pleasure and ways to manipulate males, including exotic dancing. The contract never outright said, but it did hint sexual favors were encouraged.
“By way of Japan, you shall be brought to Vanguard Island. Find the Amrita, or whatever it is that the Falcanians are building. Learn as much about their biology as possible.” The Falcanians he knew too well had done a great deal to conceal the true nature of their physiology from the outside world.
And Colonel Kreis gleefully thought: At last, I shall take what is rightfully mine!
Falco Invictus: On The Forge Of War
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About The Author
Rodney C. Johnson lives
in Westbrook, Ct. with his two beagles, Zoey and Bentley, plus the
family cat Gretchen. He enjoys reading and writing. He considers
himself a “Foodie”. His love of Science Fiction was driven by
Star Trek and Frank Herbert’s classic work DUNE.
In his free
time, Rodney C. Johnson is an avid collector of books, new or used.
Mostly Science Fiction books (Sci-Fi), but he will read anything,
provided it catches his interest. It's not about the genre - it is
about if the author paints a vivid picture with his words.
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