Chapter 551: 4th & 10 (1/2)

”The War always ends with single act of violence before the treaties and rebuilding begins.” - Former Grand Most High Sma'akamo'o, from I Have Ridden the Hasslehoff

P'Kank came into the Command Center feeling refreshed. He had actually slept instead of just napping and getting up to check on the status of the battles. It was Hour 76, and things were still progressing well.

The Atrekna forces were on the ropes across the theater. More and more units were engaged in just mopup, in many places the Active Reserve or the Inactive Reserve, backed by Active units, were the ones doing the cleanup.

He checked the maps. Nearly twelve-hundred Black Eye camps across the globe, including sixty-two on islands, were under assault or had been negated. Most of them fought to the death, the brain damage from the Precursor Scream having robbed them of their ability for much more than primal instincts.

One was flashing as he rotated the globe again. He checked the data as he opened up the communications link.

It was a big camp. Nearly two thousand Black Eyes, nearly ten thousand slaves. The brain damage had not been as extensive apparently. When the MP's had landed, backed by 13th Air Cavalry Regiment, the Black Eyes had surrendered enmasse.

What struck him as odd is that they didn't kill the slaves, unlike the other two hundred and some odd other slaver camps. The second thing was that they were using their slaves to grow crops.

The third thing was in a still image transmitted by the Colonel in charge of 13th.

It was a statue, created by welding Precursor armor and pieces of Confederacy armor.

A massive Hessltan, huge and bulky, with some kind of featureless mask, and flames that burned in the eyes. The Hesstlan carried a heavy blade in one hand and was smeared with blood and red paint.

The commo request was from both the Colonel and a Major in charge of a 75th Ranger Regiment, 42nd Special Troops detachment Alpha Team.

P'Kank frowned. That team had been assigned to track the traces that the sats had picked up. Chronotron and phasic energy trails that had been moving rapidly toward the forest. The sats had lost them due to the heavy EM twisting caused by natural metal deposits and P'Kank had tasked the team with the pursuit.

He opened the commo channel, looping both in.

The 75th Major was a Rigellian female. Her hair was sweaty across her forehead and she blinked as P'Kank popped up on her HUD.

The Colonel in charge of the Air Cav Regiment was a Kobold, who blinked once and nodded slightly inside his helmet.

”General,” the Colonel said.

”General,” the Major added in her two cents.

”Gentlemen,” P'Kank said. ”What's the issue?”

”We've got something weird, and where the slorpies are concerned, weird is bad,” the Colonel said.

”Tell me,” P'Kank said.

”The Colonel can go first. You need his background before I talk,” the Major said.

”We landed with the MP's, hard insertion, show them the Confederacy's fist,” the Colonel said.

Another window opened up and P'Kank watched as the Colonel narrated.

Black Eye camps had to be hit hard and fast. You can in fast, land hard, deploy men, get the strikers back in the air, let them know you had overwhelming firepower. 72.943% of the time the Black Ears would attempt to fight, but a hard hit would convince them to throw down their arms 62.84% of the time.

P'Kank nodded, watching the grav strikers come in hard, blowing away craters of fields and tarmac when the slammed to a stop. Troops dismounted, all of them in powered armor. Even the MP's wore combat frames.

”Here's where it usually comes apart,” the Colonel said.

The troops moved forward, announcing they were Confederate Military Police who would respond with lethal force.

The slaves ran for it. The Black Eyes had red dye on the tips of their ears, the slaves had white. The Black Eyes threw their weapons down and fled. It was night, and the images had the slick glossiness of computer enhancement and night vision color replacement.

P'Kank watched.

”Here's where it gets weird,” the Colonel said.

The slaves and the Black Eyes got to a freeway. Across the freeway was heavily overgrown forest, roughly ten miles to a lake, then roughly two hundred miles to the mountains.

”They probably figured that if they got into the woods, we'd lose them, so the plan was to push them into the woods to the lake,” the Colonel said.

P'Kank noticed a wobbly thick red line was painted on the forest side of the road. In many places there were red Hesstlan skulls painted on the ground.

The slaves and the Black Eyes both stopped in the road. They milled around as ground troops approached on all sides.

None of them ran into the woods.

They sank to their knees and put their hands behind their neck.

The MP's began arresting them.

”Then we saw the big statue,” the Colonel said. ”We inquired about it and got the same answer every time,” he said.

”What is that?” P'Kank said, going over the image again of the massive statue.

”That's the Masked Killer of Sparkling Lake. They claim the world is theirs, but the lake and the forest are his,” the Colonel said. ”They told us, we go in those woods, we're dead. Any who enter the lake that do not give proper obeisance are killed.”

P'Kank wished he could narrow his eyes but instead tapped his antenna against his brow. ”Really?”

”They believe it enough not to go into the woods to try to escape,” the Colonel said. ”According to the Black Eyes, who call themselves 'Red Tips', the woods, the lake, the campground, are all 'his.'”

”Anything else?” P'Kank asked, reaching out and running a search for the Sparkling Lake area.

”Black Eyes don't know fear, sir,” the Colonel said. ”Their brains are usually too burned out. Whoever it is, whatever it is, in the lake area, they were able to overcome the brain damage from the Precursor Scream and teach these guys fear.”

P'Kank nodded. The data was popping up. Old growth forest, former resort for the Lanaktallan and high level subordinates and flunkies. The resort/campground had twenty-two cabins, one fishing dock, a general store. It was eleven miles from the road to the dock.

There was a report from a Ranger Team during the first war. He tapped it and ordered it unsealed.

”So, do you think it's a Dwellerspawn?” P'Kank asked.

The Colonel shook his head. ”I don't think so. I think it might be a really really crazy Black Eye,” the Colonel said.

The record opened. A First Cav scout team ran into a group of survivors hiding in a cabin that opened fire without casualties. The survivors refused to return to a refugee camp. The commander on the ground had left behind supplies. Six months after the battle was over the survivors radioed for pickup.

Three immature females, including a toddler. One immature male. One purrboi damaged by a phasic attack.

P'Kank shook his head. They had to have it rough.

He tapped the closed report, holding up his bladearm to let the other two he was looking at the data.

Forensics, based on the survivor's testimony, found traces of blood and ichor and tissue from an Atrekna leadership caste that the survivors had killed during an accidental weapon discharge.

Three years ago a scout patrol had seen thermal from the little cabin near the lake, that was tucked back into a little divot in the cliff. They'd landed, offered to take the survivors to a shelter, and were refused. The refugees consisted of a pair of adults, five adolescents, a child, and six infants. One damaged and decommisioned purrboi. The recon team dropped supplies, a radio, and templates for the two BobCo nutriforges the family was using and left them there.

P'Kank looked up. ”There's survivors in the woods.”

The Colonel shook his head. ”Not according to the Black Eyes. There's never been. Just the Masked Killer and his victims.”

P'Kank sighed. ”They might be prisoners.”

”That's my part of this,” the Colonel said. He waved at the Major. ”Your turn, Major.”

The Rigellian nodded. ”Thank you, sir,” she focused her eyes back on P'Kank. ”We've been tracking those Atrekna leadership caste trails, sir. They've been keep low, shielding their emissions, forcing us to move on foot.”

P'Kank nodded. ”It looks like three leadership caste.”

The Major shook her head. ”No. They're clever. They're keeping tight together. Looks like six to nine of them.”

P'Kank, made a whistling noise, something he'd practiced as a junior officer in the artillery. ”That's enough to phase in another wave of attackers.”

The Major nodded. ”Yes, sir. They went to ground at a small town, we almost missed them but we did a second sweep. It looks like what we thought were three different individuals were small groupings that regrouped at the town. We were sweeping it, they spotted us before we spotted them. They shielded up, went full stealth, then they made a run for the forest about an hour ago.”

”Same forest with the 'Masked Killer of Sparkling Lake' in it?” P'Kank asked.

”Yes, sir. At the time we were unaware of the regions reputation and we followed them in,” the Major shook her head. ”That town, sir. It's entirely stripped, down to the house frames. Not a single thing of use any where in it.”

P'Kank nodded. ”We've seen that a lot the past four years.”

The Major shook her head. ”Not like this, sir. That's aside from the point. The point is, we went in after them. We were using chronotron and phasic trail tracking, high sensitive gear. The trail was thick, not dispersed, so we knew we were moving in on them.”

The Major flicked an image. P'Kank stared at the energy residue left behind. It looked like two to three moving unshielded.

”We had drones up, ahead, when we spotted this,” she said. She flicked another file. A video.

P'Kank opened it.

The drone was moving forward, moving silently on countergrav and a microfan thruster. The woods were heavy, moss hanging from branches, vines on trunks and hanging down from the trees.

”It's a temperate rain forest now. The Elven Queens have been repairing it,” the Major said.

”I see that,” P'Kank said.

The drone ran its sensors over a patch of shadow then stopped and backed up as the shadow didn't shift according to lowlight.

P'Kank stared.

There was an Atrekna leadership caste crushed against a tree trunk by a large log. It was facing the tree it was crushed against, which had the bark blown off of it in rings.

”If you look, sir, the Atrekna turned to face the tree and let loose with their psychic blast,” the Major said. She highlighted part. ”See that?” It was a green lump and it took P'Kank a second to realize it was a moss overgrown engine block. ”It fell, as a counter-weight. The Atrekna turned toward it, fired off their psychic attack, and that log swung in from behind and crushed them.”

She was silent a moment. ”That's straight out of the handbook for booby troops.”

”It gets better,” the Major said. She flicked another file.

P'Kank watched as another Atrekna leadership caste came into view. It was impaled on a dozen spears that were covered in vines and moss and leaves. The next file showed a third with a spear through its head, hanging in midair.

Its robe had slid off and it was naked except for its jewelry.

”Control ordered us out, but by that time I'd already ordered a withdraw from the forest,” the Major said.

”I can see why,” P'Kank said.

”No, sir, you can't,” the Major said. She flicked another file. ”This is the next to last.”

The video showed the helmet cams from the Major, with a tiny picture in picture in the upper right of her face.

She suddenly stopped. ”FREEZE!” she barked.

The entire Ranger team of seven froze in place, some in mid-step.

”Back up. In your own footsteps,” the Major said.

P'Kank squinted, trying to see what the Major was seeing.

”What's wrong, Major,” one of the Rangers, a Telkan, asked.

”We're in the Valley of Death,” the Major said, keep moving back.

”What is it?” P'Kank asked.

”Wait a moment,” the Major said. On screen she was urging everyone to slowly move back.

The screen divided in half.

”I run dual system. One is normal enhanced vision, the other is raw feed,” the Major said. ”Look at the left.”

P'Kank leaned forward, looking at the dark one, lit only by the moons and the stars. There was a shape there. He reached forward.

”If you use light enhancement, it vanishes,” the Major warned.

”Everyone go to unfiltered, real vision mode,” the Major in the recording warned. ”Back in your own footsteps.”

P'Kank suddenly saw it.

It was like one of those trick pictures, which looked like nothing but overlapping shadows and odd pale blobs where you suddenly see something at the last second.

It was a stack of Hesstlan skulls. Only four rows, but still a stack. They were covered in moss and stained from bodily fluids.

The jaws all held a pair of dried, decaying, Hesstlan ears.

The view tilted down as the Major's breathing changed.

She was slowly stepping over a trip-wire. Monofilament fishing line, nearly invisible, except this one had pollen and debris on it, making it even harder to see.

The Major looked to the left and right in the video.

”There!” the Major said. ”See.”

P'Kank squinted. ”No.”

The video paused and several sections lit up.

”It's a standard tripwire to trigger to pulley to spears,” the Major said. She highlighted it. ”Look at the spearhead.”

P'Kank frowned. ”What is it?”