The Albion experimentation on Betelgeuse was farther along than most of their other abandoned attempts. The Albion had actually created thousands of Branan in an attempt to find some way past the basic limitations, and they’d been settled in nearby towns or farms built for them. Years went by, possibly decades if the oldest stories are to be believed, with the Branan living beneath the research station that created them and the small spaceport that linked the scientists to the stars. The Albion rarely walked amongst the Branan, and followed strict rules about what they could reveal to the Branan, but they helped the Branan when they could. They taught basic medical care, animal husbandry, and farming techniques that took us thousands of years to implement on Earth. They gave the Branan all the basics of civilization while they lived in their station, and that civilization survived when they left.
“The Shang are painting us with sensor sweeps,” Betty reported and glanced towards one of the displays where it showed a complex diagram of colors. “We’re scattering and jamming below detection levels. But I think they’re getting suspicious.”
“Prepare to break and attack on my order,” Charles transmitted as they continued to close the range. “Use old weapons packages only. Let us keep our full capabilities to ourselves for now.”
“Roger that,” Jack returned with an approving smile.
“Approaching detection levels,” Betty reported as the sensor display began to flash. “I can’t keep them in the dark much longer.”
“Break in three,” Charles ordered.
Jack tightened his hands on the controls and ran his hands over a display.
“Two.”
A T&J song about bad guys biting the dust began to play.
“One.”
Power flowed from capacitors, flooding defensive and offensive systems with enough power to light up small cities.
“Break! Break! Break!” Charles ordered and the world exploded in time to the screaming of a steel-stringed guitar.
Deflection grids came alive and fire control systems locked onto their targets. Gravitic cannons reached out and twisted the very fabric of gravity between the Shang formation and the incoming Cowboys. Deflection grids collapsed and armor buckled as focused gravity tore the plates apart. Laser turrets pulsed into unshielded flanks, vaporizing armor and weapons alike…
Forge of War is now available in book format. Made of the skin of dead trees, tattooed with words lovingly chosen by me, and wrapped up in a piece of art created by Stephen Huda. It is a beautiful book if I say so myself. 😉
Some people might use the word “determined” to describe Dawn. Others might use the word “stubborn.” I would never downplay her with such paltry words. Dawn is a redheaded, green-eyed, freckled force of nature that I would never be stupid enough to try to stand in the way of. I figured that out the first time I met her, which puts me a few steps ahead of Malcolm. There’s only one major battle I can think of that she lost. She was supposed to be Normandy’s mind, but she hadn’t been designed as a ship cyber. And it was taking them too long to code the AI needed to take up the slack. That was when I showed up with a ship cyber that needed a new home. Yeah. That was my fault. She lost her ship because of me, and she’s never let me forget it. She calls me “shipthief.” I just call her “freckles.”
Malcolm McDonnell was always the man you went to when you needed something that standard channels could not acquire. I hesitate to say that anything he did was of a questionably legal nature, but others may be less circumspect than I. The fact is that he could always acquire things that others could not. It is ironic that if Malcolm had used his gifts in support of Family objectives, he would have been a valuable family operative. But because he sought to fill his own wallet first, my father banished him from the family and named him untrustworthy. For myself, I always trusted him. He fulfilled that trust when he took the Wolfenheim Project from dream to operational plan in a few short years.
The Branan started with a few small spaceships, some people trained to fly them, and very little else. They had to learn to maintain their new ships on their own, with only a few hardcopy manuals to direct them. The computers had been wiped, and so they had no history to learn and no knowledge of the galaxy at large. All they knew was that the Albion had created them to be soldiers and then left them when they didn’t live up to their promise. But the Albion did give them one other leg up on many of their other creations. One of the Albion scientists had left behind a hard copy of the Albion planetary constitution, marked up with commentary about the nature of government systems and societies. The Branan used that as a blueprint for creating a stable society while they tried to reverse engineer the Albion technologies left behind.



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Wolfenheim Rising on Amazon
Wolfenheim Emergent on Amazon