Falco Invictus: On the Forge of War (10 page)

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Authors: Rodney C. Johnson

Tags: #cybernetics, #911, #science fiction, #genetic engineering, #dna, #transhumanism, #scifi and fantasy, #technological singularity, #dune, #annunaki, #posthuman

BOOK: Falco Invictus: On the Forge of War
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Battle-togged brawny guards stood sentinel
before an egg-shaped gateway. They wore an ox-blood, Mongolian
style armor which was more than likely made of space-age material
instead of leather. Indicator lights blinked on the armor, betrayed
it to be faux feudalistic and in truth to be enhanced with
cybernetics and other various technology. These Drakorian guards
seemed very comfortable under the warm sun in armor which no doubt
regulated body temperature.

Each Drakorian held a long pike and at their
sides' mean coilguns rested. To her surprise, Frederika noted the
coilguns were a Grenadier Firearms design, her family’s company.
Foot long, bladeless hilts waited in arm holsters. Hidden behind
very stylized helmets, made to resemble a bird-like dragon's head
were bearded faces. Both the guards had black wings and tails. When
they noticed Ch'Kran the Drakorian came to attention and permitted
the group to enter the palace.

 

 

The dancers were brought to the nodor. The
harem was a group of rooms filled with luxurious furniture and
located on the palace's lower levels which opened out to a bright
garden where many different types of fauna grew around a small pond
and fountain. In a communal room, a large holoviewer stood to one
side with a curved couch near intended to seat many in front of the
TV. A large, opulent carved wood chair with maroon fabric sat in
the room's center. No doubt the chair had been intended for the
Shotar for when he visited the dancer’s harem.

Each of the girls were permitted to choose
an oval shaped bed from the many that were setup in the sleeping
area. Next to each bed sat a vanity and dresser carved from a
native black wood. The beds had many pillows and were draped with
exquisite covers. Frederika chose one that provided her a view out
into the round walled garden.

“Good afternoon, ladies.” A curly haired
Falcanian woman entered the nodor. “I’m Priyanka Surai and I bring
welcome from his Imperial Highness, the Padishah Shotar Sharr Khan
Mingh Drakonis.” Nadia had arranged for her assistant to get a look
at the women who were to be her mate's entertainment. Priyanka's
job in part entailed giving the women blood tests and mini-checkups
to ensure they were all in good health for their stay. The checkup
allowed for her to report to the Queen about the females. The
Queen, for whatever reason liked hearing about these women.

Ch'Kran's mood changed immediately when
Priyanka entered. His face became lighter and definitely happy. The
Majordomo reached out and touched her arm and she reciprocated in
turn. Frederika watched the exchange between Ch'Kran and Priyanka.
Who'd have thought that the aloof Ch'Kran could have a crush?

Priyanka handed out the schedule for the
evening. A list of rules was also provided and told the women to
please avoid bright-red lipstick as it was verboten in the palace
given that the Shotar preferred pink or maroon lips on his women.
Priyanka explained there would be medical checkups and she began to
move about the room to greet the girls. After a few minutes, she
came to Frederika

The woman admired Frederika's body. “You're
very pretty.”

“Danke!” answered Frederika from where she
sat on her bed.

“Good choice for a bed. You'll be able to
see the Sun rise.” Priyanka said.

“I know.”

The Falcanian woman took out a stethoscope.
“May I listen to your heart?”

Frederika nodded and unfolded her arms to
let Priyanka place the scope over her heart.

Priyanka's lips parted as she looked at
Frederika's ample bust. She met so many exotic dancers that it had
caused her to become somewhat jaded where it came to abundant
cleavage, she’d seen a goodly amount of silicon in her time. “Are
they real?” she asked.

“They're all mine.” Frederika grinned. “The
whole package is rea… The whole package is what I was intended to
have from birth,” she said. The word real seemed misplaced. True,
her assets were authentic, but they were not “real” which usually
meant natural, rather they were products of a genetic engineer's
designs and not of unguided natural forces. She appreciated the
pleasant form of her own body and that it had proven most useful to
her in the past when she needed to gain things for her nation.

Priyanka completed Frederika's checkup and
smiled, her tail swaying calmly behind her. “You have a magnificent
heartbeat. Very powerful. Good heart valve action and a superb lung
capacity,” she said and made Frederika blush at the notice. “I
wonder if you've got intelligence to match your magnificent body.”
Priyanka had meant it to be a complement, but it no doubt it had
sounded like a statement of arrogance to the visiting girl. She had
never examined a normal human who seemed as healthy as Frederika.
The blonde fell closer in range to the condition of a Falcanian of
her own age than most common humans.

“Hey, Rika! Come see the refreshments,” Mia
interrupted before Frederika could reply to Priyanka's accurate
assessment of her enhanced body.

 

 

“Where's Dad?” Sitara asked.

“In the day room,” Nadia told the two girls
who just entered the anteroom of the Imperial chambers located
within the golden apex of Narshin Thryak palace.

Hair wet, clung to her body, Nadia had just
bathed and had begun preparing herself for the evening's
festivities. She allowed her hair to return to its natural curl as
it dried. The queen had been about to apply her kohl. She always
did so with precision, for Sharr had told her he'd fallen in love
with her brilliant blue eyes. They were her most legendary
feature.

Not only Sitara's best friend, Alira also
happened to be her half-sister. Her mother, North Korean by origin,
had journeyed to Vanguard Island as a gift from the Shogun to the
Shotar. Kitana had captivated him and was awarded for his pleasure
to be remade into a Falcanian. Like her mother, Alira had a
well-toned dancer’s body. Quite lithe and petite with bright royal
blue wings and a black tail. Under thick, dark lashes her angled
black eyes twinkled an innate brightness. A mane of shiny black
hair flowed down her back. The princess, whose name meant “Winged
One” had apprenticed to the Krari Mistress, Teila Karalla and hoped
to one-day take up a station on her sister's FS-9 Raptor.

“Be careful,” Nadia warned. “He's reading
the letter from your grandfather; you know how he gets about it.”
Why Sharr subjected himself to annually reading the note from his
unknown father Nadia could never understand. It only succeeded to
make him more moody than usual.

Both the Shotar's daughters nodded. One did
not speak of Sharr's past and particularly one did not mention his
father. All a very a taboo subject. The letter happened to be the
only document in existence that had his birth name on it. For most
of the year the letter sat locked away along with other documents
in a vault that concerned his goings on during the last war. There
were also other files which tied Sharr Khan to the rise of the
Budjah Monks. He had no idea the Budjah would rise as an ancillary
outcome of his Phoenix Project and execute they're own form of
havoc on the world. For that the Shotar felt a personal
responsibility.

In the letter, Sharr's father had told him
he was proud of his son. The Shotar always found that of interest.
He had never met his father and this letter was his only link to
the man who sired him. He wondered how the man could even know
where he was or about his desires. With the note come a bank cheque
of a substantial sum which allowed Sharr Khan to fund the Phoenix
Project, and supplement his ThunderHawk Enterprises. The letter
even mentioned the project by name with many details of his goals
as well as particulars about the people involved. Nadia and her
parents were referenced, which had slightly unnerved him. Sharr's
operatives had done an efficient job to eliminate any traces of his
former life from history. It was what he wanted. A clean break. He
had become Sharr Khan and did not care but for a few reminders of
his old life. This letter and a picture that sat on his desk in his
office were all that remained him of who he had been before World
War III.

“We were just told Ariel’s unable to return
from Kuras,” the queen informed the girls. “So we won’t see your
twin this evening.”

Sitara pouted. “Oh, I had so hoped Ariel
would be here.”

“She's still upset about Krada, as well as
Shalimar's going away.”

Sitara and her half-sister at last went to
find Sharr in his comfortable high backed chair. He held the
accursed letter in his hand and on a nearby table a bottle of plum
wine sat opened with a half empty glass next to it. The wine was an
annual gift from the Tokugawa Shogun.

The Shotar's hard expression softened when
he noticed his children. “Sitara, Alira!” Sharr Khan stood, and
extend his arms toward two of his plethora of daughters. In return
the girls hugged him.

“We wanted to give you your gifts before the
party.” Alira handed a fabric wrapped saffron colored package to
her sire.

He opened Alira’s gift to find a burnished
hilt with jewels mounted into it and gold finishing as
embellishments. “My first vajra,” Alira’s eyes sparkled as she
witnessed her father's approval of the weapon. “I call it Jaikra.
Mistress Teila says its one of the best she has ever seen.”

The Shotar nodded, pleased by the object.
Over a foot long, the hilt was offset with a curve meant for ease
of cutting. A subtle black burnish, the alloy gleamed. Drak leather
bound the hilt of the monofilament weapon for a comfortable hold.
Extending outward to a false blade the vajra ended in a point which
left the sense that the blade once had been shattered. Three
notches were incised in the spine of the false blade, a symbol of
Kieva, Arntiraas Drakonis's faithful companions tattered right ear.
Under the false blade, a tiny silver spike jutted out, the emitter.
Here the monofilament blade “fired" from out of the hilt. When it
was on, the cutting edge that formed just beyond the spike looked
to be a reflective candle flame. Sharr unlocked the safety and
pressed the jeweled control. A whir filled the room, the sound of
induction rings within generating the magnetic shield. Titanium
filaments condensed into a cutting blade, the shape of a single
edged sword. A trace of flame lit the magnetically compressed
filaments.

He tested Jaikra's resistance against the
air and adjusted the blade to his preference. The space age sword
met the Falcanians desire to echo a long gone dueling tradition
while at the same time being pragmatic for battlefield concerns as
an effective and deadly weapon.

Engraved on the false blade, in the old
Trikash script, the sword's name had been inlaid in gold. An
invocation to Falcania had been placed on the hilt and read:

 

Winged-forger of Kraris,

Lover of Arntiraas.

Daughter of Primal-Rage.

Falcania! Jai!

 

“Very nice, Alira!” The Shotar switched
Jaikra off, and placed the vajra into a holster on his hip.
"Brakcha gei zha takchra!" Sharr pressed on Alira's arm and kissed
her cheek. “I shall wear Jaikra with my uniform this evening.”

“Gei arin mahar valshai zha Atari,” Alira
blushed.

“This is for you.” Sitara handed her father
a small box wrapped with golden paper.

Sitara had not been sure what to get her
father. What do you give a man who has access to the best foods,
wines, and the most beautiful women in the entire world? A man that
has cutting edge science at his command could have whatever he
liked. There wasn’t much out there to top any of that knew
Sitara.

Sharr opened the box.

Inside sat an object usually located on a
space ship’s helm, a pentagon shaped holocompass encased in dark
wood and finished by jewels. The biggest jewel was the holo
projector set on the compass's face. A long gold chain hung from
the compass so it could be worn like a pocket watch. Sharr Khan
pressed one of the jewels, activated the compass. In clear
resolution, displayed in blue a holographic compass pointed the way
in three-dimensional space.

“You've always told me to look to the
stars,” Sitara explained about the gift. “What better gift for a
Star-King than a compass to guide his way.”

 

 

 

Bong, bong,
and
bong!
Clang, clang,
and
clang!
From around the circular
Great Hall muscular Drakorian Guards pounded mammoth drums and
gunmetal colored anvils, which caused a low toned oscillation to
fill the domed chamber. The drums hammered, and the blood pumped at
a faster rate, to raise a fever of lust and desire, a march that
revved up the guests. The Great Hall served many purposes, it
functioned as both a communal meeting place and as the primary
throne room for the Shotar's court. A place where food and drink
were consumed. At low tables, seated on large tasseled cushions,
members of the Dreikatha feasted with soldiers and craftsmen to
honor the Shotar on his birthday. Blood-armored Drakorian warriors
ate from their Padishah's larder. Beautiful winged-women, dressed
in golden armor and who wore celandine-green trousers attended to
them.

Over near a wall stood Frederika, Mia, and
the others who waited for the Shotar to arrive so Ch'Kran could
present them to his Lord. Frederika hid a smile at Sabina's
eagerness. The busty Cuban girl clad herself in a body tight blue
slip dress with stiletto heels. She beamed in anticipation, this
evening clearly was important to her. Frederika hoped Sabina would
get what she wanted out of her journey to Vanguard.

Frederika had chosen to wear hip hugging
black designer jeans and a halter-top which bared her navel and
fastened in the front. The combination of cleavage and bellybutton
went well with the local style. Clasped around her ankles were
strappy patent leather platform shoes. A river of golden
honey-blonde curls cascaded down her back. Around her neck on its
black collar hung the silver Thor's Hammer Oberon had given her. A
pair of hoop earrings dangled from her earlobes and had been all
the jewelry she elected to wear. A small handbag, little more than
a black pouch which contained a brush, lip liner and a small
vaporizer of perfume dangled from her wrist.

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