Empire of Decay: Backtalk

Certain pieces of jargon and units of measurements have been translated into proper human and Earth-based terms, for the benefit of this file’s superior human readerbase.

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Jit-10-8, the commanding officer of their little cell, was dutifully going through the contents of the supply crate, brow furled in concentration as she mentally tallied the new supplies and made her judgment on the situation. Mok-1-21 had her own dismal judgment on the meager items strewed before her, the commander, and the other six Dranza in the cell. Plenty of water purification pills but barely enough food. Barely enough spare parts to keep their tech going. No new pieces of tech that Gat-5-44 had requisitioned. No weapons or munitions. No new heaters to ward off the cold of Dallis-5’s stormy season. Not even a blanket for crying out loud!

It would be enough for Mok-1-21 to curse and rage and cry, if she hadn’t already resigned herself to the grim reality of their situation.

Jit-10-8 didn’t not seem to agree with this reality, as she put on a stern face and nodded to both her and Tan-2-43. “Well done, the both of you. This will keep us going for another few weeks.” The commander pronounced, ignoring the sour grimace on Mok-1-21’s snout. The others at least hid their disappointment well. “Anything else to report?”

“Humans!” Tan-2-43 blurted out. Ever since returning to base and stripping their sand-blasted masks and goggles, Tan-2-43 looked nervous and frightful, somehow looking even smaller than she was with her atrophied muscles. Alarm took over the group, everyone but Mok-1-21 and Jit-10-8. “We saw two humans on patrol on our way back. One of them even spotted us! But… they didn’t attack or anything.”

Jit-10-8’s hard, flinty eyes darted between fearful Tan-2-43 and jaded Mok-1-21. “Were you followed at all?”

“No, we were not.” Mok-1-21 replied for both of them. “We rushed, but I made sure we were not tailed. Only one of the soldiers saw us, but he clearly did see us, yet made no action. He didn’t even alert his comrade.”

“Show me your teeth.” Jit-10-8 ordered in a clipped tone. “The both of you.”

Both scouts opened their maws, revealing twin rows of razor-sharp fangs. The commander inspected both of their mouths to make sure everything was on the level. A contingency plan to prevent cell members from being compromised or indoctrinated.

“Okay, enough.” Jit-10-8 said, after a tense moment. “All of them are intact, you’ve had no contact with the NOXET. Still, this bodes ill. It means they are on Dallis-5 and they are looking for us. It might be time to break this cell up and head out on our separate ways. I’ll send a message to Control tonight and see what their opinion on the matter is.”

Anger flared through Mok-1-21 and, in a moment of weakness, she mumbled, “So, we’re running away once more…”

And, unfortunately, either she spoke louder than she meant to, or Jit-10-8 had sharper hearing than they had given her credit for. Immediately, the elder officer turned on Mok-1-21, eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Care to repeat that, soldier?”

Mok-1-21 huffed, snorting through her nostrils. Well, shit. She was in for it now.

“Yes, commander, I was saying how the remnants of the glorious Dranza empire are once more fleeing from their enemies.”

“I will ignore the tone of your voice. For now.” Jit-10-8 hissed, standing snout-to-snout with Mok-1-21. It might have been more intimidating if, under her uniform, the commander wasn’t as emaciated as Mok-1-21 was. “But this is a shadow war, soldier. We can’t fight those filthy humans with just the eight of us. Or even if we unite all the cells together! We need to keep to the underground and bide our time, no matter how long it takes!”

Mok-1-21 was not in the mood to be talked down to. She already knew she was in deep shit and should quit while ahead, but her anger got the best of her again. “Wait for what? We’ve been hiding in this pit for over a year. Our supplies are dwindling, drop after drop. If the humans come back, we don’t even have weapons to fight back with! You dismantled your service pistol to use the power back to power the heaters!” She snapped and pointed an accusing finger at her commander and then turned to address her fellows, attempting to win their voices to her side. “We don’t even have a fucking sharpened stick to fight back with! We’re scrabbling the dirt, wasting away to nothing, but you want us to keep ‘fighting’ in spite of it all? This is madness! We need to flee, off this moon and out of this system or we all die here!”

Despite her best efforts, none of the others rallied to Mok-1-21’s cause, shying away and averting their gaze. Her rebellion quelled, Jit-10-8 inclined her head back, literally looking down her snout at Mok-1-21.

Then, her commander backhanded her. Mok-1-21’s neck snapped around violently, as she was thrown to the cold stone floor of their cavern base. Looks like she was wrong, Her commander’s muscled hadn’t atrophied nearly as much as hers.

“Cowardice and insubordination.” Jit-10-8 pronounced with cold venom, stalking to Mok-1-21 as she attempted to steady her vision and find her feet. “I am beginning to see why the Mok clutch was considered cursed. No wonder the gene-masters never produced a Mok-2. No wonder you fled from the capital as the humans laid siege.”

Mok-1-21 wheezed on the ground, tasting the blood pooling in her mouth. “Whereas you clearly fought until the bitter end, right, commander?”

Jit-10-8 then proved Mok-1-21 wrong again, producing a carbon-fibre baton and lashing out at the prone soldier. One blow cracked Mok-1-21 in the head, sending stars through her vision, while the remainder pummelled her weakened, sickly body. The others flinched during the beating, but made no move to help her.

“Do not think that just because we are a small cell with specialized roles that you are irreplaceable.” Jit-10-8 said, huffing and puffing after the exertion of battering Mok-1-21. “Nor that our sisterhood will spare me from punishing a defect like you.” She then turned away from Mok-1-21 to address her other troops.

“A chain is only as strong as it’s weakest link. Together, the Dranza are strong! But we cannot allow such dangerous, radical rhetoric to sway our hearts. We may scrabble in the dirt, we may suffer indignities that which we never imagined, but we will not falter. The Dranza will never fall! Do not believe the propaganda of the humans! They do not have our world, our people. We remain elusive, waiting for our moment. We will bide our time and wait, for our sisters to finally launch their furious vengeance against the human scum, or for the pampered fops of the CGA to get off their fat asses and marshal a fleet. Our time will come again and the righteous will reap the rewards!”

Jit-10-8 punctuated the speech by pumping her fist and the baton into the air, eliciting a ragged, weak cheer from her small audience. That, and more wheezing and coughing from Mok-1-21, as she curled herself into the fetal position.

Pleased with how things went, Jit-10-8 exhaled sharply, squaring her shoulders and raising her head up high. “I will be in my quarters, messaging Control. You and you, take this defect into the brig. Her remaining rations will be offered to Tan-2-43 for the evening. I will decide her fate come the morning.”

Bruised and beaten, Mok-1-21 slipped in and out of consciousness, as two of her “sisters” hoisted her up and hauled her off to her prison cell.