The Wars of Zegandaria - Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov (most inspirational books txt) 📗

that was what they called Zegandaria's most elite commandos - had been engaged to guard the new prisoners.

The prisoners wore tortured and dejected expressions. Their eyes were like the eyes of cattle being led to the slaughter - in them one could read an animal terror of the unknown. In the bottom of his soul Kenji wanted to say a word or two of encouragement to them, but he refrained, realizing the full absurdity of the situation. What would the others say, including his own adjutant? Surely they would think him mad! The heavy dead atmosphere in the hold was suffocating him.

He merely waved his hand. And left the room, bathed in such a sickly greenish color, suggesting unhappy thoughts, even to a free man of his station.

- 'Was anyone missing from the list?,' he turned to the adjutant.

- 'No, sir! They are all present!,' said Richwater, stretched like a string before his commander.

- 'Then put it into overdrive, because we're running a little behind schedule,' he called to Doug Enlow, entering the Ensoria's command room.

 

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To some, the Cosmos may seem infinite and indefinite in nature. A source of mystery and unattainability. This is of course true, but only to a degree. Distortions in space (and wormholes in particular) had long since provided the human race with almost limitless possibilities for travel in the vast vacuum of space. Contrary to naïve perceptions, they did not allow direct point-to-point travel, since quantum-level connected black holes could also be used as wormholes. Of course, their exact location, and the types of ships that were capable of passing through them, was a top military secret. That was why it was no wonder they had sent an entire rear admiral to escort the 'criminals' in question.

The ship slowly began to concentrate power around its hull. The quantum stabilizers were turned off. The four main ion engines went to full power. They were about to reach first space speed.

Kenji watched the procedure of preparing to make the hyperspace jump with well-concealed tension. As a military pilot with extensive flying experience, he knew that everything could always go wrong in such situations.

Doug, however, knew his job and watched for even the slightest possible mistake.

- Engines at full power. Reaching second space speed after 10, 9, 8.

- '7, 6, 5,' Kenji mentally counted down as well.

Suddenly the entire cruiser shuddered and reached the thrust it needed to overcome the planet's gravitational field and leave its orbit. ‘The Enzoria entered open space.

The cadets, who were on the bridge and not even aware of the living 'cargo' on board, could barely restrain themselves from hooting at Doug's skill. He was simply a natural talent. Of course, they didn't, because a possible show of disrespect to a superior officer could have cost them not only their entire future careers, but a serious reprimand from the Zegandarian Court Martial.

The Adjutant had not been able to witness all the spectacular preparations for making the hyperspace jump, because Kenji had sent him on an important mission - to extract some information from the captives. He crept along the long, dimly lit and oppressive corridors of the military cruiser. He seemed to be in the shaft of some Pharaonic tomb.

He had great respect for the rear admiral, but it wasn't his seniority or valor that made him submit without question. Richwater himself was also wondering exactly where they were going.

His curiosity was fueled by the fact that the Enzoria was taking its secret ‘cargo’ not to its final destination, but to an asteroid named Calistro 325. Far from possessing the dimensions of a small planet, the stellar body in question was more like a giant chunk of rock orbiting the asteroid belt of the Cicada constellation in Stellar Quadrant 415. The sheer number of asteroids made reaching it a complicated enough task even for a supermodern cruiser like the Ensoria. It also made it more inconspicuous. Each time during their arrival, the asteroid had a serious security presence. Though taking his first steps in his career as a senior military officer, Richwater was not yesterday's man. The lack of markings on the soldiers' spacesuits spoke volumes that even a man with the rank of Rear Admiral, such as Kenji was, shouldn't just stick his nose into these things for no reason.

Otherwise he was risking his head. There was nothing else on the asteroid except the ‘Distribution Center,’ as the soldiers called it among themselves. It was a collection of several facilities - a spaceport for launching shuttles, interron fuel depots, and a communications center. Though not particularly large, the structures in question took up nearly a third of the asteroid's area.

- 'Devil knows where they're taking them next...,'  Richwater wiped the sweat from his brow. 'I risk being court-martialled if I continue to follow the commander's orders, but if I disobey, I'll be court-martialled again!'

After walking through a series of rooms, he finally made it to the cruiser's storage area. The smell was definitely not pleasant, but this was a warship after all, not an amusement park. He had no right to be picky about it.

The adjutant reached to run his palm over the ultramodern touch-screen reader on the hydronic door, but it refused to open and made a quiet but ear-piercing sound. That sound, there was no doubt, meant denial. Sweat trickled down his forehead and he decided to make a second attempt when someone's hand politely but firmly tapped his shoulder and pulled him out of the daze into which the anxiety of not being seen had driven him.

- Excuse me, sir, but you are forbidden to be here.

Richwater turned and recognized the voice as belonging to one of the so-called ghost warriors. In the dimly lit room, the outline of his face wasn't clearly visible, but there was a subtle strain in his voice.

I have been sent personally by General Gene Pailey on a secret mission to check on the condition of the captives. - Winnow lied without batting an eye.

The soldier was stunned, thought for a moment, but apparently hesitated at the mention of that name, and did the honors.

- 'So true,' he froze in place.

The ghost warrior placed his palm on the touch reader and this time the door responded to even the lightest touch and opened hospitably. There was an almost impenetrable darkness in the bottom of the warehouse, broken by the fragmentary lights of the irenic phosphorescent lamps that consumed no electricity and could burn almost forever. Their drawback was that they barely flickered.

- 'Sir,' pronounced the soldier, scarcely audibly, 'you have no right to question them as to what exactly they were convicted of, or as to their identity. That's top secret. I will personally supervise your conversation.'

Richwater was dumbfounded. He hadn't expected this turn of events. The Adjutant stepped forward, trying to put as much confidence and gravity into his gait as he could that would finally suggest to the guard that he was their man. The soldier made way for him to pass first. But on closer inspection Winnow's intense gaze could not make out the silhouette of either prisoner. They were simply gone! It was as if someone's experienced hand had swept and cleaned the cruiser's hold like a surgical intervention room. ‘Something is wrong here,’ that thought flashed through his mind for a split second.

Suddenly, he felt a deafening sound behind him, like the impact of a blunt object, and his gaze refocused.

- 'That's what you get for sticking your nose in the wrong place, you fool!,' were the last words he heard before darkness enveloped him.

 

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People tend to deny the existence of any superintelligence, imagining that everything depends on their free will and especially their personal qualities, but resorting to prayers for help directed to it in moments of real crisis and trial. Such was the case with Richwater. He was not much of a believer; he did not even have any respect for religion. But now only something narrower could help him. He mentally repeated 'Great Midriel, protector of Zegandaria, progenitor of the human race, save me!' This hastily concocted semblance of a prayer was the best that came to his mind.

Raised to become a senior naval officer, coming from an aristocratic family with a tradition in the military field, he had a somewhat warped mind. An extreme individualist by nature, he had become Kenji's favorite. But it was not a close friendship, but rather a sympathy built on the basis of a purely official relationship. Richwater had always done his best to be first in everything. His whole life so far had been built on this seemingly simple life principle. To him there was nothing but black and white, and the things of life, as we know, are not always so. It was also for this that he had set out on the trail of the mysterious disappearance of the captives, though that was none of his business at all. An order, after all, was an order.

The adjutant moved about the cramped room. He tried to free his hands, a virtually impossible thing to do. Whatever they had tied him up with was definitely very tight. The blurry images before his eyes, albeit slowly, began to clear as he tried to focus his gaze on them. The voices he heard were quite harsh, even reaching a low growl.

- 'What are we going to do about it, Captain?,' he managed to catch with a great effort.

- 'Why don't we kill him right now? There's nothing to deal with. We're late with the delivery anyway.,' he heard a firm male voice with a slightly squeaky frenetic note.

- 'No. A firm no.,' a voice, a little softer compared to the others, objected. 'He's a valuable prisoner. At least he'll tell us what he knows. And why shouldn't he join the colony's workforce. He won't be superfluous. The need for ore mining is growing.'

Though his head was heavy, Richwater was becoming well aware that his situation wasn't all rosy. It would be a miracle if he made it out alive. The muffled shadows seemed to stir restlessly, apparently they had sensed that he was capable of hearing them. They approached slowly and hovered over him. Richwater was no coward, but he was under no illusions as to what would follow.

Though in a bad way and with his head heavy and seemingly rolling stones, he managed to notice that he was not in the hold of the ship where he had been attacked, but aboard a shuttle that was definitely not one of the smaller ones designed for purely military purposes. Its interior was much cleaner than the hold of the Enzoria and considerably better lit, but by no means more comfortable.

- 'I am David Penrose,' came the soft, thick male bass, 'and you are currently aboard the transport shuttle Emzirou.'

- 'What are you going to do with me?,' dared Richwater to ask, not so much because he hadn't heard as to see the reaction of his captors.

- 'I think you heard very well a moment ago,' smiled the captain. 'But I want to ask you something too. Why would an adjutant, even a rear admiral, stick his nose where it doesn't belong?'

- 'Because you're kidnapping innocent people,' Richwater tried to object, realising the absurdity of his own words.

- 'My boy,' Captain Penrose stretched his lips into a broad smile, 'as a man of the army you should know well that a soldier is merely following orders. My job is to transport them to their final destination. And you obey your commander-in-chief, don't tell me you decided to pursue us on your own initiative.'

- 'What about the asteroid you had a shuttle base built on?,' snapped Richwater.

- 'What asteroid?,' smiled Captain Penrose with deliberate slyness.

- 'Are you going to deny it now?,' said Winnow angrily. 'And that's not true?'

- 'I'm not saying it isn't,' Penrose continued in his soft and even booming voice, 'but you'll see for yourself its true function once we reach