The Wars of Zegandaria by Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov (find a book to read .txt) 📕

- 'Yes,' replied the prince, in a tone as if he were being wheeled and cut to pieces. 'I will bring him back. I promise.'

- 'But you can't find him without my help,' the voice grew serious. 'You'll be reunited with a group of brave men who are human.'

- 'Humans,' roared Kier Zoh, red with rage.

- 'Yes, people. Of flesh and blood. With mutual strength you will find it.,'  the Voice was already losing patience, but he was trying to keep his composure.

- 'All right, let's assume I agree! What do I get?,' he asked somewhat haughtily, seduced by the thought of playing such an important role in saving the planet.

- 'Nothing,' was the simple answer.

- 'How come nothing? Nothing at all?,' he almost sputtered.

- 'Yes, nothing. That's what you're entitled to,' the Voice replied.

- 'Good. I accept,' he said after some internal struggle. 'I'll do what you want.'

- 'You have to ask for it, too,' the Voice added. 'This is the secret. Only then will it be real.'

Suddenly the skeleton crumbled. All that was left was the inscription ‘Behold, we have met!’

Kier Zoh was quite startled. He stood by the shallow grave. And he wondered if he was dreaming. What they wanted from him. He wasn't fit to be a prince, he wasn't fit to be a king, he wasn't even fit to be usurper to the throne!

But maybe he was going to be a scapegoat! His ego was calling to him! It nagged at him so hard! Something was gnawing at his brain!

- 'At least I have a chance to fix things,' he blurted out.

By the time he turned around, Mark and the others were behind him. They looked around for a while, Father almost pulling out his blaster and not shooting him in the head, but the Rat who knows why stopped him. They didn't speak the language, they couldn't understand each other, they didn't know how to communicate. They started drawing signs in the sand. It was naive, but it worked. communication proved successful.

The voice had opened a portal from the Zegarai Mountains to Death Valley, and they had traveled thousands of miles in just a few hundredths of a second.

Kier Zoh explained in detail what was required of them. And he was more than satisfied that they understood it. That was enough for him. If any of the subjects saw him, kneeling in the dust, drawing strange shapes, they would kill him on the spot. But it was different now. Now he had a purpose. He had to achieve it. He had to succeed. Something had to spur him on. In spite of everything. This was what he needed!

If he had needed to, he would have even overturned the entire planet. Not even the entire universe. His mistake had to be atoned for. His voice spoke from within. He had to earn forgiveness. And beg it himself! Something that was not at all easy!

Mark, Paul, Grandpa Jack, Rat and the others looked around. Instead of the rotten skeleton, they saw just a handful of dust. It was that simple. And damn simple! There wasn't any doubt!

They had to act together! And they were going to do it!

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: DOOM

'Don't multiply the entities any more than necessary.'

The ziruarxs were already entering Synthros. It took their leaders quite some time to overcome the uneven terrain, as well as the semi-desert climate that was also giving them quite a few headaches. The machines did have one peculiarity, namely the composite material, silica aronault, of which they were made, combined with the additional reinforced thermoflon armour on the turret, despite their immense manoeuvrability, made them relatively heavy for the sinking, even sinking, elandon soil of Sintros. Unlike the humilias - it was highly unstable. Like, we said, the interron fuel was literally dripping, even just poking a finger in it. Apart from that fact, the multiple drillings had fragmented it completely. It was also why the Elohenians preferred to build their base in Learnia and use the entire terrain of Synthros as a natural ‘moat’ around the approaches to the base. It was a smart decision, but not that smart, because there remained the problem of treachery. A traitor had helped the Guarron infiltrate the base, but the advancing troops were unaware of that fact at the time. Nor did they know that a short time later parts of their own armies were sacrificed in combat for nothing and nothing at all. Again, this was due to treachery, but from a much higher authority. They were simply full of enthusiasm to do the job they were being paid to do! They talked quite loudly in the ziruarx, but they expected at any moment to spring up as if on command and start showering the enemy with bullets while their comrades covered them.

Rodrigo and Duolors were, coincidentally, in the same ziruarx that had arrived first at the secret base before they were assigned.

- 'Maybe Becky will have to sort herself out,' Rodrigo tossed in. 'But she's a man's girl and knows how to get out of trouble. Let's hope the city survives without us.'

- 'If we get out of here, you've got a beer from me,' Duolors muttered. 'Watch my back, lest some plasma bounce me.'

- They were armed, in addition to the plasma rifles, with special Bonetier rifles that generated a powerful kinetic shockwave that could take the enemy right out. That was in case they needed a plan B.

Sergeant Zorin, who was the most senior in the group, had given the boys quick, concise and precise instructions on what to do if the platoon members got separated and how to communicate with each other.

They were to use a particular form of dislocation before they began to take over enemy positions. Behind them was a small squad of armored Nirangais that the platoon leaders would use to observe and avoid flanking the entire division. The battle corps split in two.

As many as eighty speeders circled above them and scouted the area. They had special infrared sensors detecting all biometrics of moving subjects within a thirty-five microscintimeter radius.

- 'Do not multiply the entities more than necessary or in translation master the position with as few forces as possible.' Repeated Sergeant Zorin before the brightening hatch opened and the boys went the hell out. 'Don't waste any extra ammo. You have about forty minutes to break through the enemy from the southern approach. If they start to chase you, retreat in an orderly fashion, they're not such big fools to chase you into the interoffensive fuel fields. End. If they do, we'll meet them with ezonium bombs and machine gun fire from the northeast side. I've deployed a few ziruarx to provide cover for your withdrawal. End!'

Rodrigo, Duolors, and the others didn't wait long to plead with them. They jumped like springs and poured out like one of the ziruarx's drones. A moment later, however, they gaped in astonishment.

- 'They've smashed the base like a matchbox!,' gasped Rodrigo. 'But I wonder how they did it, and with what?', he added, eyeing the breached five-metre wall of Diomedes Base, 'What the hell did that!'

Zorin walked over and calmly said:

- Now it's more than clear they sent us for green spawn. It'll take us a few days to get back, even with the nirangaters.

The boys looked at each other dumbfounded.

- 'Looks like all that training was for nothing,' Duolors grumbled indignantly.

Suddenly they heard a wheezing sound. They went to check. It was the base commander, covered in blood and barely breathing.

- 'How many were there?,' a few dozen voices asked him, almost in chorus.

- 'I don't know,' he barely muttered. 'But there was something rotten here. All the boys were gone. The guaroons killed them! Filthy lizards! But that fence was knocked down by trickery!'

Speaking, spitting blood. The pitiful remains of his uniform swayed grotesquely. One of his legs was even missing. He tried to reach a small stone to brace himself on, but his strength was not enough. He fell on his eyes. Then suddenly he gasped.

Everyone in the squad looked up. Perhaps they were about to learn even more unpleasant truths. Then, one after another, they scattered to explore the base.

The devastation was complete. Holes were everywhere. But what our adventurers didn't know was that several Guarron outposts were hidden at the remains of the base's command center. They were playing some strange game of theirs called ‘Orimo’, or so it said on their cards. It most likely resembled some of the human games. Their laser cutters were on their belts and they just had nothing to do. The Guarron had left these heroes as liaisons to warn them of possible danger while the Dance of Death lasted. They hardly numbered more than ten or fifteen. But they were still dangerous. And too dangerous.

- 'Doolers,' Zorin whispered, 'use the Bonetier rifle. Now!'

Sergio Duolors readied the strange weapon the size of a larger hammer, which used a special mechanism and generated a powerful shock wave.

- 'Now!' roared Zorin. 'Knock them the fuck out!'

The kinetic wave was strange to say the least. As we know from physics, the medium of propagation was called a continuous elastic medium. A special drum in the back of the weapon, called an equalizer, created what was called an oscillation of a certain number of particles, which was different from the oscillation of the particles of the environment. Another device called an intensifier determined the intensity of the spherical wave generated by the gun. The third and final part, called a direction finder, created its directed motion along a certain coordinate. And a powerful ‘Baam!’ followed.

The guarrons were literally crushed like cockroaches. Their severed limbs scattered around the base. Even their heads were hardly recognizable and looked like crushed cardboard boxes. Their eyes were leaking. And the rib cages of their chests stuck out like broken toothpicks. Such was the effect of the dreaded weapon in question.

- 'Good work, Duolors,' Zorin called, 'if we get back alive, I'll offer you up for promotion. What was your current rank?'

- 'Private, sir,' he replied breathlessly.

- Excellent. Now search the storerooms for anything else that might be of use to us.

They rummaged around the base for a long time. Maybe more than five hours. They searched every possible nook and cranny for supplies, various weapons, ultras, and whatnot. They found almost nothing and came back angry. And there was definitely a reason why.

- 'What was the purpose of their attack on the base, sir?,' dared Rodrigo to ask. 'They took almost nothing of use.'

- 'Don't be so sure,' Zorin countered him somewhat calmly. 'Whatever they were looking for, they found it.'

Some of the others were still fussing and looking around, hoping to find some loot worth all the way here.

- 'Now all we have to do is contact the outposts that have our back,' Zorin continued. 'Hopefully everything is alright with them.'

- 'Outpost Alpha, this is Team Beta 1, 2, 3, do you copy?,' he called somewhat mechanically over the cyclotron synthesizer.

Nothing.

- 'Post Alpha, do you read?,' he repeated.

The same silence.

Zorin paled.

- 'They've discovered our plans,'