The Chronicles of Ki
Book 1: In The Beginning
© Copyright 2024 Frank Walters Clark ~ All Rights Reserved
A battalion of King Dal’s royal electrogineers are busy with the hardening of hundreds of Crowz-shielded encampments, based ten kilometers from the base of Mount Rumb. On eight different quadrants, tens of thousands of new recruits and lifers, combat- tested soldiers, perform e-spear drills, blue steel mist knife and sword parries, and gravtrol ring tactics.
The base command center is already in full-mode operations, with soldiers manning the compudatas, compiling numerous battle strategies. Securlinked coms units are receiving royal Z-1 priority reset codes.
In the skies above the command complex, skyships are practicing battle maneuvers. Gravcar officers enter new shuffle codes for the launch sequencing.
Prince Xib and his two ranking officers, Major General Qox and Minor General Tsebin, stand near a large vidplay in the top tier command center discussing battle articles presented to them on screen by the compudata.
All three wear Annunaki Guard uniforms. Sleek horned helmets and black feather-like tunics and pants, blood-red waist and cross chest bands, black boots and wing capes. Each has a king’s medallion hung around his neck.
“The Black Gloves are entrenched my Lord and have the advantage.”
Major General Qox is worried. An invasion up the sides of a mountain is daunting and deadly for his heroes.
Studying the four side-by-side battle articles on the vidplay, Lord Xib’s eyes jump from one article to another. He points to one of the plans.
“What say you, Major General? We will be moving up the mountain, so we can’t use the Avalanche of Chu article, a tactic made famous by your father.”
“True, my lord. An article of ‘wave overwhelm’ in reverse loses all its power and stalls at the very onset of the thrust.”
Peering at one of the other articles, with nose almost pressing the vidplay, Minor General Tsebin nods once, and taps a finger on the screen.
“This has possibilities. If I recall my Sect of Shem histories correctly, father, was this not used successfully to breech the embattlements at the Castle of Lef back in millennia 1.1?”
Squinting, Major General Qox studies the plan’s geography.
“Yes, I remember that. However, young man, a castle has stepped sides, which allows the overtaking force to move up the ramparts in a series of recoverable, staged landings.”
Agreeing with Qox, Lord Xib makes the distinction, and says, “Except for plateaus and ridges, a mountain offers no stable points of vertical ingress, being more acutely sloped than the tiered profile of a castle.”
Lord Major General Qox shakes his head and eyes the third plan, then says, “Mmm. Brilliant, this one. The Cones of Zhan.”
“I am not familiar with it, Major General.”
In his element, Major General Qox stands, like a general before his ranks. Lighting his e- rod’s tip, he uses it as a pointer.
“The Cones of Zhan Strategy, Battle Article 12-29, is an attack hyperbola incorporating the best of both the Avalanche of Chu and the Castle of Lef.”
He e-rods the two separate plans into an overlay. Fading the fringe data, he highlights the two inverted cones.
“General Zhan inverted the Avalanche of Chu article over the Castle of Lef article as I have done, martialing the two articles into one advance. Skyships attacking in waves at the upper reaches of the Black Glove fortifications…”
“…Simultaneously, Heroes using their gravtrol rings, supported by squadrons of gravcars, will eliminate any ground resistance.”
Minor General Tsebin looks at Qox and asks, “Would this not place our Heroes and gravcars in great jeopardy?”
Lord Xib realizes his young inexperienced general has made an error of omission, and says, “I am sure that you reviewed the edict, but at this very moment our auxiliary skyship forces do battle with the Black Glove air command, at their base on the Planes of Vhar.”
Major General Qox says, “Meaning, Black Glove skyships and gravcars will not be joining our present engagement any time soon—if ever.”
Triple-finger touching his temple, Lord Xib activates and overrides the royal Z-l coms channel. Facing his staff officers, he commands, “All officers and troops, stand to for orders!
Appearing on your compads screens now is Battle Article 12-29. Prepare to engage on my signal only!”
The three royal officers step out on an unfurnished, Crowz-shielded observatory at the top level of the command complex. On the quads, the Royal Guard’s several regiments are taking their respective alignments.
Sleek horned helmets strapped on, gravtrols and e-spears in hands, fifty-thousand- strong royal heroes organize into fixed ranks and stand at the ready. Retro-fitted with Pulset- 1 plasma parabolas, five hundred E-4
Annunaki-emblazoned gravcars lift off and hover ten meters off the ground. Forty battle- rigged T-8 skyships zigzag into four assigned flight formations overhead, north and south, east and west. Their gyrogrids buzz with electrical energy.
“At attention, Generals!”
His officers come to attention, their postures hard, their faces harder still. He speaks three words on the Z-1 channel to his entire command.
“Dal! Heroes, deliver!”
* * *
In his tomb-like, Black Glove headquarters near the peak of Mount Rumb, Lord Dalu shoots to his feet. A moment of panic crosses his face, and he touches a priority key on his compad then shouts, “They are enroute!”
The privilege of royal Z-1 access gives him an advantage. What the royal Heroes know, he knows. What he knows, the royal Heroes do not.
“At your command and ready, my lord!” Lord Dalu recognizes the voice of Adjutant
General Visor Majin on his com set. Temperature rising, he says, “Majin! What are you doing on this channel?”
“Standing at command with the Black Gloves, my lord,” Majin replies.
Monstrous thunder pounds the mountainsides, echoing heavily inside the command center. Small faint pulses of high energy rattle non-stop from all directions, high and low.
Lord Dalu screams at Adjutant General Visor Majin, spraying saliva. “Where is Catma? Why is he not here in command?”
“If I may, my lord? Per your official orders, he now has command of the Black Gloves flight school.”
“And who made you force commander?”
“You did, my lord. At the same time you reassigned Catma of Uruk.”
Pacing up and down, his black uniform soaked with the sour smell of sweat, Lord Dalu claws at his hair and frustration fills his face.
“My lord?” Majin says. “A high-priority report is coming in.”
“What say you, Majin?” Lord Dalu’s link clicks silent a few moments. Then Majin comes back on, the sounds of the engagement in the background.
“My lord? Our airbase at the Planes of Vhar has been overrun. Most of our ships are disabled or destroyed and the launchpads are beyond repair.”
Explosions sound through the solid walls of the command center around Lord Dalu. The enemy’s counterattacks are increasing.
“We should recall our troops here, my lord. They are experiencing extreme forward losses.”
Resigning himself to this fate, Lord Dalu breaths slow and deep, then throws up his arms in symbolic surrender.
“Issue the order, Adjutant General Visor Majin. Before all our Black Gloves are massacred.”
* * *
“Praise Abwoon! They are withdrawing!”
The battle is won. Major General Qox softly thumps a flexed fist over his heart in celebration. He beams with unspoken pride.
Battle Article 12-29 has prevailed magnificently, and his master looks very pleased.
“A Tri-Star of Courage awaits you, Major General Qox!” Lord Xib says. He embraces his second, and in the sacred tradition of the ancients, kisses him on both cheeks and then on his bended head.
Major General Qox humbly accepts the honorary. At least for the moment, he thinks, the conflict has ended.