“Subcouncil Konns,” Gath admits, “this loss of life is truly regrettable. Yet, I suspect that rebel forces are behind this attack.”
“We had considered that possibility. However, rebel groups do not possess the resources to carry out such an attack, unless they had powerful backing, do you not agree?”
As Gath is talking, Subtarean Thelsus Ro Ovinns is looking at Subcouncil Konns with mounting distrust. Despite the fact that Thalos and Erandos are Anatahn members, Ovinns has taken acute note of rising tensions that, for the past two years, have shown no signs of abating. Without informing Protarean Azaroth, Subtarean Ovinns have secretly at times called in high officials from planets Xuraceas and Imiar to arbitrate serious disputes between Thalos and Erandos. The present conflict, however, has taken a far deadlier turn.
“Subcouncil Konns,” Gath concludes, “I strongly advise you to continue your investigation into this matter. We will help in any way necessary. Protarean Azaroth will be notified of this situation.”
“So be it Gath,” Konns concludes. “For your sakes, I hope that I am wrong. End transmission!” The holographic image fades as the transmission from planet Erandos, via the AIHC network, terminates. Gath stands facing a blank wall.
“How long,” Ovinns asks Gath, “are we going to have put up with this? Now, of all things, we are terrorists as if they could not find some other charge to level against us.”
Gath faces Ovinns. “As long as that maniac is in power, this situation can only get worse.”
Subtarean Rane interrupts. “As much as we all detest High Council Sergis, we must deal with this new situation.”
Protarean Azaroth looks at the contents of the tablet in his hand. He looks up at the others. “When did this one occur?”
Gath shifts slightly. “Four days ago, three thenesian high officials were injured and two were killed in the explosion.”
“This is the third attack since the attack on the Rollas Trade Building. Who are the ones doing this and for what reason?”
“Protarean, we among the subtarean assembly are just as troubled. The repercussions are obvious. A few thenesian officials are publicly condemning us for these attacks. High Council Sergis is charging us with outright terrorism.”
“Terrorism!” Azaroth protests. “For what reason would we attack our own ally?”
“Protarean, we would never do such a thing,” Gath avows. “Yet, the Astorean High Council is up in arms about this new attack on the Arran government building in Ka’rabath. Premarian Mersas and High Council Sergis demand that we answer their charges. They invoke an old Anathem law, a law that has not been used in over a century.” A deep frown develops across Protarean Azaroth’s face as to the implication of the use of that particular law. Still, he feels that this is highly more preferable than the alternative. “Gath, set up a private meeting with our ambassador, Tanos Mo’rech. I will get to the bottom of this.”
“Yes Protarean. However, may I remind you that you are scheduled to meet with the Itharian delegation from planet Rozun? The Itharians are ready to begin trade negotiations. Trade Minister Ana’esha Mo’rech will arrive here shortly. ”
Azaroth briefly lowers his head. “The Itharian delegation will have to wait. The present situation with Erandos is far more important. Inform our trade minister of the delay. I want this matter resolved as soon as possible.”
“Yes Protarean, at once.”
Planet Saleas (Fourth Galactic Quadrant)
Indigenous Inhabitants: The Malorians
The Bandean Prison Facility in the Iobas Province
Escorted by two armed security guards, Domerias Tarach and Racaus are walking into the visitor’s room. Domerias and Racaus seat themselves behind a transparent partition. For some time, their visitor remains silent. Racaus objects to the visitor’s stare. “Are you going to say something?”
With a terse smile, the visitor responds. “Are you Racaus?”
“Yes, and you are?” Racaus looks back at the dalkhan high official with suspicion.
“I am Thelsus Ro Ovinns, first member of the Subtarean Assembly. I have looked over your file sent to me by Lanon Enforcer Central.”
“I’m surprised,” Racaus retorts.
“Why?”
“Subtarean Ovinns, the Subtarean Assembly is a ruling body under the authority of the Protarean, which I believe is Illucean Nerasias Azaroth. Am I right?”
Ovinns is surprised and amused. “Yes, you are. Is this a matter of concern for you?”
Racaus pauses briefly. “Not really. I’m just wondering why my situation would be of interest to a dalkhan high official.”
Ovinns frowns. “You have been accused of collaborating with our enemies, the serillians; who are also a member of the Rigis Coalition. That would be of great interest to my government.”
Racaus pauses to think. “As I had explained time and again to dalkhan enforcers, I and another person were forcibly abducted and were taken as prisoners.”
Subtarean Ovinns and Domerias exchange brief looks. The elderly Domerias, a Genari overseer, lowers his head slightly out of respect for Subtarean Ovinns.
“This other individual that you had mentioned to Enforcer Malrik was Derran McKay. He was your accomplice?”
“No, Derran is the one who had formed an alliance with the serillians. I was simply investigating the situation.” Placing his tablet back down on the table, Ovinns scrolls through some information. “The serillians were attempting to obtain a rare material to build a weapon. What do you know of this?”
Racaus feels exasperated. “Very little. Look, I’ve told your people everything I knew. Why do you keep asking the same questions over and again?”
“Lower your voice,” Ovinns demands.
“What for?” Racaus demands. “I am not associated with the serillians. In fact, I was trying to stop them. In fact, McKay and his associates were the ones who betrayed Quothias.”
“That was when the battle had begun.”
“Yes,” Racaus admits. “People on both sides were killed.”
Ovinns powers down his tablet. “Despite your convictions, you are still in trouble. I have been going over your file for quite some time.”
“Meaning?”
Ovinns becomes solemn. “A tribunal has been convened to determine your guilt or innocence.”
Racaus begins worrying. “Suppose I am found guilty.”
“Then, you will be executed.”
“I do have the right to a defense council.”
“Yes you do. I will be your defense council.”
Racaus feels some relief. “Subtarean Ovinns, it’s not that I don’t mind, but why? You don’t even know me.”
“As unusual as this may sound, I believe you.”
“You do?”
“Yes. Given your unusual situation, the probability of your being found innocent is, in my opinion, is quite high.”
“Well, that’s great.”
“However…”
Racaus’ smile vanishes. “I don’t like the way you said that.”
“Although your chances of being found innocent are good, unfortunately, you will never be returned home.”
Racaus is incensed. “Why not? I’ve spent months here.”
“Noted,” Ovinns replies. “Regardless, you will not be sent home, as you are considered a security risk.”
“Security risk?” Racaus protests. “So, I’m stuck here?”
“Either that,” Ovinns proposes, “or you can live out the rest of your life on Thalos where you will be a free individual.”
Though fearful of the outcome, Racaus finally understands that his presence here is not by coincidence.
“My friend,” Domerias tells him, “please go. Your time has arrived.”
“I understand,” Racaus replies. “Subtarean Ovinns, when do we leave?”
“Racaus, I will return tomorrow around this time. Gather all your belongings.” Ovinns stands up and walks away.
Racaus faces his
friend. “Domerias, I’m still in the dark about this situation. Although I understood what you and the others had revealed, I still found it hard to accept this.”
Domerias sees the concern in Racaus. “My brother and friend, trust that you will not be alone for those among the Onasheon will be with you. Accept the great privilege for which you have been chosen.”
The Following Day
Flanked by armed guards, Subtarean Ovinns is escorting Racaus to a shuttle transport. He stops walking and turns to face Racaus. “Before we leave, I wish to know something.”
“Yes Subtarean Ovinns.”
“I know that Racaus is just your prison designation. What is your real name?”
“My real name is Vausteau Fosteir.”
“I see. In your report file, you indicated that planet Earth is your home world. Where is this Earth?”
“I don’t know. Until I can reference a familiar constellation, I have no way of locating my home world.”
“I find it unusual that you do not know the location of your own planet, a factor that nullifies any chance of you returning. Thus, your stay on Thalos will be permanent.”
Vausteau faces the subtarean. “And what do I do to make a living on your world? Where will I live? How will I adjust?”
“Ah yes, the usual questions,” Ovinns acknowledges. “All that you ask will be provided. In time, you will adapt.”
After giving a brief acknowledgement, Vausteau follows Ovinns to the shuttle that will take them to an orbiting ship. Minutes later, the Fathacian breaks orbit and heads towards deep space before vanishing into a hyperspatial portal.
Planet Erandos (Fourth Galactic Quadrant)
Indigenous Inhabitants: Thenesian
Planetary Capital City: Valhathen
Faltering from the intense pain, Okaris struggles to get up off the floor to lean against the wall. The masor wound in his left side compels him to make a drastic decision. Mikeuh tries desperately to help his friend move on.
Okaris objects. “Mikeuh, leave me. Get this information to Ambassador Mo’rech in any way you can. The government on Thalos must know of this dreadful weapon.”
Mikeuh protests. “You will be killed if they find you. The drain entrance is a short distance past the back exit. ”
“No, I will be dead anyway. Many more of us will surely die if the thalosian government is not warned about this grave situation. You know what must be done.” Okaris begins a slow slide down as he fights against oncoming death. Removing the storage crystal from Okaris’ hand, Mikeuh puts it in his upper pocket. With tearful eyes, Mikeuh looks one last time at his colleague and best friend of the past 20 years. “Forgive me my friend for what I must do.”
“All is forgiven my brother. Now go.” Okaris collapses into eternal silence. Mikeuh reaches for the explosive device and sets the timer. He gets up and runs out of the back entrance. He descends down the drain entrance into the tunnel.
Four more enforcers, each equipped with a hand masor (multiple arrayed selective oridium radiation), arrive on the scene. “Where are they?” Head Enforcer Ta’inns demands.
“They ran into that deserted building across the street. They are trapped and armed. They cut down Ka'nas.”
“Prepare to move in on my signal!” Ta’inns orders. Enforcer Waon loads the launcher and aims at a front window. After getting his superior’s approval, he is about to fire when a sudden explosion erupts in the building. Obliterating the windows and door, the blast wave knocks everyone within range to the pavement.
The shockwave catches up with Mikeuh and knocks him to the cold, wet ground. With only a slight abrasion on his forehead, he gets up and continues running down the tunnel. Stumbling in the semi-darkness, he makes his way through the tunnel. Mikeuh can still hear his friend’s final words in his mind. Yet, he is sure that the enforcers will assume that he and Okaris are dead.
CHAPTER 4SON of MEURACEUS
Planet Erandos
The Astorean High Council Building
City: Sathrenus
“Do not attempt to beguile us with your pathetic peace overtures Morech!” Sergis demands.
“You are part of this conspiracy just as much as the rest of your dalkhan associates! You…”
“First Council Sergis,” Ambassador Mo’rech interrupts, “I must protest! As ambassador, I am the legal representative to this dispute, as authorized by my government in response to your invoking of Anathem law enacted by our forebears a century ago! If I sound disrespectful, I sound this way because you contemptuously reject all efforts to settle this conflict peacefully.”
“Contemptuous ambassador?” Premarian Mersas angrily interrupts. “I find your choice of words most disturbing. I am also finding it increasingly difficult to come to any other conclusion. I continually reprimand First Council Sergis for what appear to be violations in diplomacy only to be proven wrong by these continuing and unprovoked attacks on my people.” Mersas focuses on Protarean Azaroth’s image.
“What will it be Azaroth? Do not feign ignorance. Many of my people have been killed. Their families are demanding that justice be done. Is this war? Answer me!”
Angered, Protarean Azaroth reacts. “War among ourselves Premarian Mersas? On what basis? Sergis, despite his mad rhetoric, has presented no solid evidence to prove his charges. Any military conflict between our worlds would be pointless and will force the others to take sides. In time, the Anatahn will crumble.”
“I am not ignorant,” Mersas objects, “of the outcome.”
“Premarian Mersas, I was not implying ignorance on your part,” Azaroth counters. “Clearly, whoever is responsible for these acts of terror is trying to divide us. If we were to go to war, we will be giving the Rigis Coalition exactly what they want to rid themselves of us! Still, I will defend my people!”
Before another word is spoken, Premarian Mersas and Protarean Azaroth look at each other’s holographic image. In view of situation, Mersas chooses the peace option. “My patience is at an end. Be warned Azaroth! If we ever discover that your people are behind these attacks, rest assured that not a single dalkhan here on Erandos will remain safe. End transmission!” Ambassador Tanos Mo’rech breathes a sigh of relief. Sergis, still enraged, turns and storms out of the council chamber.
Private Council Chamber No. 4
“That miserable old fool had them right in his hands,” Sergis yells. High Council Mammon and High Council Atelus remain silent as they watch their colleague rage nearly uncontrollably. “Those pitiful dalkhans had no excuse, nothing to justify their acts of aggression against us! Mersas is making us out to be cowards, too afraid to fight back against Azaroth!”
“Sergis, there is nothing we can do! Look at the situation,” Mammon proposes. “I agree with you in some aspects. If indeed Azaroth is somehow complicit in these attacks, what does he hope to accomplish by playing innocent?”
Angered, Sergis yells at Mammon, “Innocent! Have you forgotten how treacherous these dalkhans can be? How many times have we had to deal with their biased trade policies? Their pathetic trade minister uses her influence with the Anterian Distribution Network to pander to her own selfish policies, with Azaroth’s blessings, of course!”
“Dach!” Aterus curses. “Ana’esha Mo’rech is a puppet for her master, Subtarean Zuras! Like a common dog, she is tied to his leash. Regardless, even if we declared war on Thalos at this very moment, in spite of Mersas, how could we be sure the other three Anatahn members will not see us as the villain and come to their aid?”
“Ngoru and phalacean officials,” Sergis asserts, “will not involve themselves with them. The thaon government will see to that. I will make sure that they see the dalkhans for what they are, power-hungry pillagers.”
“I suppose this has nothing to do with the discovery by your fake archeological team on Mentahk. Does it?” Aterus gives Sergis a hard look.
Sergis becomes incensed. “Aterus, if you value your safety, you had better keep out of my business.”
/> “Is that a threat?” Subcouncil Aterus warns. “If you think that I am in fear of you, you will be highly disappointed. General Zahn is playing you for a fool.”
“A fool,” Sergis fires back, “is someone who pays the price for not minding his business.”
“Do not push me Sergis. Often, our worst enemies turn out to be the very ones among us.” Aterus angrily walks away.
Mammon faces Sergis. “Ko’math, be very careful. He has powerful associates in dangerous places. I suspect that he has learned of our little venture.”
Planet Thalos
City: Asleon
“Director, Regian Hymas Koinns is here to see you. He has no appointment.”
Excited, De’ras responds. “The Regian is here?”
“Yes Director Xamon,” Ba’rah replies.
“Allow him in.”
With a smile on his face, De’ras greets the Regian. “"Hymas old friend, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
Hymas extends his hand in greeting. “I thought I would take some time off to see you De’ras. Our paths do not cross too often these days.”
As they both sit down, De’ras continues. “Forgive me my old friend, but my duties here at the research agency keep me quite busy.”
“Yes, I understand. My duties keep me busy as well. How are Le’eth and the children?" Hymas inquires.
“They are all doing rather well. Tu’roth, my eldest son, is on Xuraceas doing some research of his own.”
The Emissary Page 2