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Merokk
Merokk inspected the young warriors assigned to his contingent, walking up and down the line of armed Kall males. He inhaled deeply of the smoky air, feeling a sense of excitement he hadn’t experienced in ages.
A true battle.
For the first time in years, he would step onto a battlefield.
Foolish humans.
He suppressed a laugh. He’d just received a briefing on the situation, and he could scarcely fathom what the rebels were thinking. Their misguided need for vengeance would likely result in the extension of the Kall occupation on Earth. Humans had breached the treaty many times over the years, minor violations they’d paid for in renegotiated interplanetary trade deals, but today’s breach was the worst to date.
As far as Merokk was concerned, it was a blatant act of war.
He climbed halfway up the retractable ramp of his airship and faced the two thousand warriors he was about to lead into battle. The setting sun glowed orange on the horizon, then disappeared over a snow-covered mountain. He thought it fitting that most of the rebels, as well as the Norfozzian mercenaries they’d hired, would perish in the cold darkness of a winter night.
Holding a voice amplifier to his lips, he drew in another deep breath as he prepared to address his warriors. He waited until a series of booms in the distance faded and a fleet of airships finished zipping by the edge of the military base.
“The humans have violated the Kall-Earth treaty,” he began, and a multitude of vicious growls echoed through the clearing. “The Kall occupation of Earth would’ve ended in two moon cycles, yet they have decided to attack our military bases around the world. They have hired Norfozzian scum in the hopes of slaughtering us. Tonight, we fight back. Tonight, we’ll be victorious against the treacherous humans and their fledgling mercenaries. Humankind surrendered to us once, and they will surrender again. They will tremble before our power.”
The males roared and lifted their weapons high, sharp white teeth flashing, eyes gleaming with bloodlust. It was a beautiful sight, and Merokk withdrew his ax from his belt, held it above his head, and joined in their battle cry. His duties as commander included giving them orders and personally leading them into battle, but he was also charged with mentally preparing them for the fight. He was charged with whipping them into a murderous frenzy.
Once the cries quieted down, he said, “An army of fifteen thousand Norfozzian mercenaries and two thousand humans are attempting to reach the heart of our largest East Coast military base. Just as our weapon suppression technology prevents humans from firing guns and other artillery, the Norfozzians are unable to use any high-tech weapons against us. They must all face us in hand-to-hand combat, and we will savor their blood and screams of pain. We will send them to their graves!”
His warriors broke into another roar, this one longer than the first. In a matter of moments, he would lead the charge onto the battlefield, and his people would destroy the enemy using weaponry and skills the humans and mercenaries no doubt considered archaic. But it was the Kall way. While his people possessed powerful bombs and laser blasters, sophisticated weaponry which they could easily use to vanquish the enemy in a flash, they still preferred hand-to-hand combat.
Violence hummed in his blood as he peered to the west, where the first units of Kall warriors were clashing with the enemy. Merokk savored the dark energy that rumbled over the land, anxious to join his comrades who were already fighting.
A horn blared nearby, the signal he’d been waiting for. The order for him to lead his contingent to the back of the enemy’s army, where they would meet three other Kall units as they fought to cage the humans and mercenaries in from all sides. The great Kall army would swallow the enemy, leaving naught but blood and guts and bones.
“To your airships!” Merokk bellowed into the voice amplifier.
He moved aside as dozens of warriors bolted onto his airship, then watched as the remaining warriors boarded other nearby vessels, small but fast ships that would carry them quickly to their destination. Once the last warrior finished boarding, Merokk headed for the bridge. He took position behind the pilot and peered out the viewscreen that showed the two armies clashing in the distance.
“Now,” he gave the command.
The pilot’s hands danced over the controls, and before Merokk could take his next breath, his ship had already crossed the battlefield and was hovering in the desired position. A quick glance at the radar display showed all the airships under his command had followed. The pilot landed the ship with a soft thud.
Merokk fell back into his previous role as a commander with ease. He issued orders and continued to rally his warriors for the impending fight. They disembarked the airships and marched in perfect formation toward the rear of the enemy’s forces. As they drew closer, their cries for blood faded and their footsteps became near-silent thumps in the snow. Darkness shrouded their battle march.
Merokk’s sensitive ears picked up on faint footfalls to the left and right, and when he inhaled deeply of the air, he realized it was the other units coming to join them. In the darkness, with the lights completely extinguished on the airships, he hadn’t been able to detect the reinforcements drawing near until now.
The sickly-sweet scent of death reached him on a cold wind that swept through the valley. He savored the aroma of human and Norfozzian blood. If any Kall blood had spilled on the battlefield, it was so small an amount that he couldn’t detect it.
He sent up a prayer of thanks to the ancient gods for Fiona’s safety. Before he’d departed DC—before he’d been briefed on the situation—he’d personally studied the radar displays and verified that no enemy forces were encroaching on his home. Nevertheless, he’d ordered his Head of Security, Rentzaq, to keep the house in lockdown until his return. No one could enter or leave, and if security systems detected the slightest danger, Fiona and her mother would be relocated to the fortified bunker beneath the abode.
But even if it would’ve meant disobeying orders, he wouldn’t have left his female unprotected. If necessary, he would’ve evacuated her and gotten her to safety before reporting for duty. She was everything to him, the light to his darkness, the sweetness that tempered his ferocity, and he hoped he didn’t scare her too badly upon his return.
He recalled how unsettled he’d been after the final battle of the Earth-Kall war, when he’d had no wife to satiate his dark urges, the lingering bloodlust that had fueled his savage needs for a female. He’d nearly killed several warriors on the training grounds in the days that had followed humankind’s surrender.
The cloud cover suddenly cleared, revealing the shapes of thousands of Norforzzian mercenaries and humans at the back of the army. A general’s horn sounded in the distance—the signal he and his men had been waiting for.
Thousands of Kall warriors lifted their weapons and charged toward the enemy, Merokk among them. And thousands of Kall battle cries pierced the cold night, a chorus of thunderous shouts and growls.
Chapter 3
Fiona
Fiona cursed under her breath as she shook the television. The blasted thing wouldn’t turn on, though she noted the power source was still in place. A shadow passed by the living room doorway, and she glanced over to see Rentzaq walking by. None of the video comms in the house would work either. She suspected Merokk’s Head of Security was behind the outages. Or rather, the security chief had done it at his master’s command.
