Chapter 22

Adrik

Lise was right. The doctors I managed to pull away from their grounded ships and bring to our medical lab, confirmed that particles in the water and in the human females’ blood were programmable chips being remotely operated. The commands did not seem complex, unlike those that cured medical conditions on Earth.

“They were programmed to disrupt the reproductive systems,” said Trutan, who had unofficially become the senior medic in the lab. “And then, at some point, the command changed to immobilize them.”

“Why haven’t any Mitran males been affected? We have been drinking the same water.”

Trutan nodded. “It’s possible it was intended to affect us as well, but the cellular structure of our internal organs is different. When these chips attempted to latch on and attach or burrow inside of us, they couldn’t and just passed through our system. With the humans’, they were able to attach.”

Granat stood by my side and frowned. “So it’s anatomical luck that has allowed us to not be affected by this technology.”

Trutan nodded. “I’m certain that they were hoping it would affect us, too.”

“How do we disable it in the humans?” I wanted to know.

Hours had passed since I had sent Lise back to her quarters to gather her things, but it felt like minutes. I was desperate to get her away from here. Dessicans killed indiscriminately and without pause. They took no prisoners. Anyone found here, no matter their species, would meet the same end that the remaining warriors and I would face. Not that I intended to give in that easily, but clearing millions, or even billions of microparticles from hundreds of human females in an impossibly short period of time did not seem possible. That didn’t mean we wouldn’t try.

“According to what you told me about the humans’ experience with a similar technology, someone was able to hack into it,” Trutan said. I had told him what Lise had shared with me about the medical chip issue that had happened on Earth. “I suppose we would have to do the same thing, but as you know, we Mitrans don’t specialize in that sort of thing. But surely there are some in this Thrail who have the capability.”

“None that could do it in a few hours,” said Granat, saying out loud what I thought in my head. “And if we try to break the communications block they have on us to get assistance, they can easily activate the chips to kill every human being in this Thrail.”

“That’s correct.” Trutan did not look pleased. “It would be instant and painless.” He shrugged. “If they chose for it to be.”

“They could make the humans suffer.” Granat looked at me. “Options, Warlord?”

“Get everyone who has tech knowledge to start working on breaking through to those chips,” I snapped. “And I want as much data as possible on how they are smothering our communication signals.”

“That is likely coming from Dessican territory,” said Granat. “Again, what they purchased had to have been immeasurably costly. How could they have afforded this? Dessicans are not a wealthy people. During the war we fought with the Heveians, they chose to align themselves with the UCP, not that they had much to offer.”

Trutan winced. “Honestly? The likely answer is that they sold off a portion of their own population into servitude.”

I rubbed my chin, not liking how this was sounding at all. “They were likely starving anyway. It would explain why they wish to slaughter some of us in an almost symbolic retaliation. They live in the most inhospitable parts of the planet.”

“They attacked us in the great war for territory,” Granat pointed out. “We won and they lost. We could have wiped them off the planet entirely.”

I shrugged. “That is not in dispute. But it is clear to what length the desperate will go.”

“And now more blood will be spilled over this land.” Granat pushed one fist into his palm. “I’m glad I will not live to see the destruction of this beautiful valley as they strip it of all resources and make it as barren as the Wasting Plains.”

The medic leaned over his console, covered with graphs and figures that I did not understand. “I’ve sent a messenger to my ship’s bioengineer and technical communications officer. They’re coming to try and decode these chips.” He looked up. “We have seventy-two battle-ready warriors on our ship. Warlord, they will fight for you.”

“If every single Mitran stood against the Dessicans on the other side of that ridge, we would still be vastly outnumbered. Thank you, but they are to evacuate, too. I will minimize the death toll as much as I can.”

“If they have all of this, they likely have upgraded their weaponry as well,” muttered Granat.

I straightened up my shoulders, feeling the weight of my position heavily on them. “Trutan, if there is anyone else you can think of to work on this chip issue, summon them. I will send over the techs who keep our communications up and running. The medical lab is now the center of our operations, since we can’t transmit the data back to your ship.” I turned to Granat. “See to it that every ground transport is at full power and ready to begin deployment.”

“Yes, Warlord.”

It had been six years. Six long, peaceful years since the end of the last war I fought in. Despite being a warlord, I had not commanded a ship, but served on one. I didn’t miss battles. I did not miss the fear and the death and the injury and the destruction. Now as I walked through my Thrail to my residence, I knew I would be preparing for the last battle I would ever fight. Most of the people of my Thrail would survive. That was all I cared about. That was all I wanted to think about.

But just out of reach were thoughts of Lise. The supple curves of her body. The sounds she made when I pleasured her. The life we might’ve had.

I strode through my home to the third floor, where I stored the battle armor I had hoped to never don again. I put them on now. With each section that snapped in place over my body, my fate sealed, piece by piece until I was encased in a warlord’s armor.

Until there was nothing left of the male underneath. I strapped on my weapons—blades, long and short, blasters—yes, blasters. We would fight them with everything we had. And lastly, I lifted my spear, sharp and honed, from its location on the wall. I caught a glimpse of myself. I saw nothing, just a warlord who would be as brutal as the enemies I would be fighting. I walked out of my house to prepare my Thrail.