Chapter 1. Coming Of The Overman

A Falcanian hammers the alloy of himself upon the forge of war and conflict. Be it the strife of battle or the combat of belief, ever seeking to shape his being into a blade to be carried forth with which to claim his future and that of his aerie. He does so in joyful celebration of his singular, divine-spark, yet without idealism or recourse, using whatever means he has at hand knowing only his annihilation remains before him as he is torn asunder to be remade anew.

– Arntiraas Drakonis, the Ascendant. His task set to those who follow the Road of Tarik. From The Telchar Shanral, The Green Egg.

[November 9, 2030. Dukedom of Saxe-Coburg Germany]

A grand command chair rested on a central platform — a throne! From the forward part of the circular operations deck, she shouted orders in a dialect she had never heard before, a language that hinted at being influenced by both German andSanskrit, though it contained guttural “K’s” and “T’s”, sounds that were not heard in any known human language. Those in the work pit of the vessel who managed the helm and other systems of the monstrous predatory golden bird-serpent starship obeyed her and set a course toward her selected targets.

Over in a corkscrew rolled the large vessel, a smooth elegant rotation that swooped around in the vast dimensions of deep wide-open space, unencumbered by right, left or up and down to bring its weapons to bear upon its prey.

In golden armor she had been dressed, intricate links of ring-mail attached to plate-armor with angular upward swept shoulder plates. Draped over her shoulder hung a rich green cloak. On the bridge of her warship she stood, right hand on a sword hilt with an advanced gun strapped to her thigh. She was Doom incarnate, a War-Queen to be feared.

“Railkir!” she shouted to her gunner hidden in the darkness.

A shadowed red world came into view, covered with lighted cities that flickered and gray seas which crashed ashore. The bird-serpent let a ball of hot fire out from its belly to absolutely flatten a city below.

The vision shifted.

On a vast rusted desert, she discovered herself. She pushed her eyesight outward beyond the horizon where she witnessed a flash. An eerie green light burst out from the sand and coalesced into a column which became a winged armored figure. A deep cowl obscured the face. The figure stood with her on the rust strewn track. The warrior gripped a sword hilt in a gauntleted hand. It appeared to be a shattered blade for there was but a single spike left of the cutting edge. Three notches curved into the spine of the fractured weapon.

Blood rushed from cracks in the desert to form three rivers at the figure’s claw boots which began to overtake the desert. In a deluge, a river of sanguine liquid ascended around her. Gauntleted hand raised the winged hooded one held out its bladeless hilt from which came a gleam of light…

Frederika Gisela von Gotha awoke with a sudden cry. She gazed out the window at the sprawling snow covered acres of her estate. Since her birth the same dream had haunted Frederika, her eidetic memory never allowed her to forget the bird-reptile ship or the winged hooded figure.

Five-foot, eight-inches tall the statuesque honey-blonde crossed her room in a gracious stride toward her balcony. She pushed aside a strand of hair and gazed out at the line of old dark forest, whitened by early morning frost. She rubbed her neck, her fingers skirted across her tattoo. An unusual design, two equilateral triangles’ apex to apex, a stylized hourglass, or as some might observe, a double helix.

Dawn beckoned to her on the day of her twentieth birthday. Despite her surname, Frederika did not know her parents. Eugenics had fashioned her genome and herDNA was composed of age-old European families chosen for a few particular reasons. Her DNA contained various animal qualities also, which enhanced Frederika’s strength and agility.

Augmented by Genetics and Cybernetics the Transhuman reign over the Globe. The year is 2030 and the planet rebuilds still in the wake ofWorld War III, the “War on Terror“. The United States is no more, yet from its ashes arose the Imperium which seeks to rule all it surveys. For vengeance, and survival Imperator Romulus sends his newest space battleship: DSV Excalibur to seek dangerous allies to help him complete his dominance over the planet. If he succeeds no nation will be free from Julius Romulus Giovanni’s boot, in particular the small German Dukedom ofSaxe-Coburg.
One woman is a well honed blade: Frederika von Gotha, Duchess of Saxe-Coburg and a product of genetic engineering called a Morningstar, as a spy for her tiny nation she is given a mission, learn about the mysterious Falcanians and the secrets they keep hidden away on their artificial island. Once she steps foot on Vanguard, neither Frederika nor the world, again on the brink of chaos will ever be the same.

“Falco Invictus is science fiction at its best. Rodney C. Johnson’s novella is as sophisticated as it is imaginative. Through his profound and entertaining story, Johnson uses a well-crafted blend of mystic history, futuristic visions, and superb imagery to bring the Falcanian peoples and society to life. From the brilliant and solemn Nadia Korelia to the mysterious and powerful Sharr Khan, Falco Invictus is guaranteed to intrigue and delight.”

- Jim Erjavec, author of The Caverns of Mare Cetus

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Grandfather Uric intended his favorite child, his one and only daughter to become Queen Of The Morningstars, ruler of a new breed of humanity. To that end he placed her in hibernation to await just the right time that she and her underlings could be unleashed upon the universe. Aunt Imogen had other ideas…
– Sitara Drakonis-LaSalle, Days Of High Adventure: On The Foundation of The Commonwealth Of Allied Worlds.