Through the Abyss

by Daniel Litchfield

  Euphretes grinned, “Going to start with Necros Kyklo, but something tells me that Kivotos Eden is where I’ll end up.”

  “Fair enough. Permission granted. Godspeed Euphretes. I love you.”

  “Love you too. Give em Hell while I’m gone.”

  Chapter 15:

  The Dragon’s Tail

  Emperor Indus paused to catch his breath from the nonstop action of the last forty-two hours. The shock of discovering the fate of his Flagship was still weighing heavily on his mind, forcing him to consider what would have happened if he had been onboard. Retreating to a room just outside the Command Center on The Forgotten Blacksmith, the Baikal Emperor soaked up the stillness. The Forgotten Blacksmith was an oversized Super Capital Ship that was built at the same time as Dawn of Creation. Designed intentionally to serve as an alternate Flagship for the Emperor, it stayed nearby Dawn of Creation at all times in case of unforeseen emergencies. Deciding not to risk taking Emperor Lesos deeper into his own Empire for the Diplomatic Talks, but also knowing that the enemy had fair game to play dirty, Indus secretly boarded The Forgotten Blacksmith and used it instead of Dawn of Creation to conceal his movements.

  The Baikal Emperor found himself inside a 144 square foot chamber that contained a zero gravity recliner couch that Indus had nicknamed the Human Repair System. Just ten minutes in the chair felt like hours of beautiful restorative sleep. The walls surrounding the couch breathed in synchrony with the Emperor, creating rippled patterns of colors and shapes that naturally induced the body to release serotonin. Meanwhile, minuscule amounts of nootropics and anxiolytics floated in the air, fueling Indus’s creativity while stalling the stresses of life from interrupting his thought processes. Soft, rhythmic music played through millions of speakers spread across every surface of the chamber. The specifically designed speakers, and music to go with them, enveloped Indus with sound waves that naturally produced GABA in the brain while slightly exciting his endocannabinoid receptors. In layman’s terms? The Human Repair System melted away the last traces of the Emperor’s tension.

  Indus closed his eyes and submitted to the effects of the recliner. At first, he struggled with the ever present need to plan and scheme, but he reminded himself that this little respite would only last a short time. He just needed to relax and slip into a dreamy existence, even if just for a few moments. All of his anger, frustration and disappointment began to melt away and a smile slowly developed on his face for the first time in ages.

  “It’s time,” Cat informed, interrupting the peaceful environment.

  Opening his eyes, the satisfied grin still gracing his expression, “So it is. Let’s get to it then.”

  The prism gently lowered its effects on Indus before allowing him to stand. Immediately, six droids surrounded him and started donning him with his Royal Armor. A jet-black cape made out of the same material as Euphretes’s First Line Protective Suit covered his back. In the middle was the Baikal Family Crest, proudly glowing from light reactive maroon and white threading. Below the crest was Indus’s version of his family’s motto, “To Be Feared Is Our Name, To Be Feared Is Our Victory.” The words were also stitched with glowing radioactive isotopes interwoven into the fabric. All in all, the cape demanded attention whenever worn.

  Instead of the black and red armor worn by his Senior Officers, the droids began attaching matte gold armored plates with burnt orange insignia identifiers onto Indus’s First Line Protective Body Suit. Magnetizing to a matte black suit, the Kit boasted of its wearer’s royalty. Burnt red exterior stitching that was threaded in intricate designs around the Suit created the appearance of dragon scales. Indus’s helmet had a light absorbent crimson visor and was the next generation in combat awareness and information analysis. However, it was not placed into his hands as The Forgotten Blacksmith was not in active combat. Instead of using a helmet to communicate, the droids handed the Emperor a small ear piece that wirelessly synced to The Forgotten Blacksmith. While limited in its capabilities and range, he preferred it over the weight of a helmet and knew that it was better than nothing.

  Emperor Indus left his private get away and made the twenty-one yard walk to The Forgotten Blacksmith’s Command Center. Laid out in the shape of an eleven-pointed star with flat ends instead of points, the alternate Flagship’s Command Center was a technological marvel that easily rivaled, if not bested, those found on mainline Huron Capital Ships. Almost three times the size of the one on Steadfast and Loyal, Emperor Indus could monitor both of the fronts with pin point accuracy along with keeping tabs on the rest of his Empire at the same time. Polished white tiles, able to project two hundred petabytes worth of information, covered the entire floor and portions of the walls and ceiling. Because of the insane amount of data processing required to effectively represent the barrage of information being thrown at it, The Forgotten Blacksmith utilized a technology once thought to be strictly theoretical. The only known one in the universe now that Dawn of Creation was being salvaged, a Relativity Processor enabled the Command Center to function smoothly. Capable of receiving information at speeds of up to six times the speed of light, it perfectly sustained the Command Center’s needs.

  Because of the breakthrough with the Relativity Processor, albeit costing roughly the same as a Capital Ship in resources and man hours, the necessity for enormous amounts of storage and processors was completely negated. Without large chunks of Ship being reserved for technology necessities, the vacated space was then used to better everyone’s work spaces. More importantly, the opened space turned the Command Center into a portable government. The mobile agency had four of the room’s eleven legs with additional attached conference rooms. It was also given its own dedicated communications and tracking equipment in order to be able to operate independently from the Ship.

  For walls and workstations, every square inch was an interactive interface that reverted to a standard monitor while not in use. The same tiles, except black in color, made up one third of the entire ceiling. When tiles were placed above and below each other, they shared a link that enabled the pair to work in tandem to project astonishingly minute details. Additionally, when used in cohesion, The Forgotten Blacksmith’s Command Center could totally immerse the occupants in the Flagship’s outside environment. When done abruptly, something Indus liked to do every now and then to startle the crew, it gave the impression that everyone was floating aimlessly in deep space. During combat, watching the events unfold around them with a complete view of the exterior of the Flagship was a ride few would dare to venture.

  Each flat end of the eleven pointed star was large enough to fit a twenty foot work station with a gap for a six foot door in the middle. Along with the Ship’s primary RAI, the Command Center broke standard protocol by including a dedicated RAI with its own Computing Processing Center and failsafes. Falling under the Command Center’s primary RAI were three additional RAIs dedicated to each of the eleven legs. Two worked directly with the two most Senior Leaders of that leg while the third was shared among the rest of the leg’s section.

  “Emperor Indus!” A Marine’s voice shouted in warning. Instantly, the sounds of heels clicking together filled the air. The Emperor marched inside the enormous room and purposefully waited six seconds before calling off the command, “As you were!”

  “Sir,” Empirical Admiral Krasny nodded, his towering frame looming in the distance. He purposefully waited for the Emperor to arrive before entering the Emergency Baikal Top Tier Leadership Meeting so they could cross the threshold as a unified team. “Krasny. We all set?” Indus asked with a genuine smile, still several yards away.

  “Affirmative Sir,” Krasny replied before walking to meet the Emperor at the conference room’s entrance.

  Inside the conference room was an elongated charcoal table that stretched forty-two feet in length. It rested on a polished onyx flooring that was currently reflecting the anxious tapping feet of Baikal Senior Officers. Blackened steel seats, comfortable enough for meetings but un
comfortable enough to keep fatigue at bay, lined the table. Burnt mahogany red walls surrounded the stuffy room, broken up by twenty-two monitors. Above the occupants’s heads, two feet below the twenty-two foot high ceiling, was a similar map of the Baikal Empire as the one found in the common area on Dawn of Creation. Instead of precious stones, however, it was mostly made out of projection material made to mimic precious metals.

  The monitors placed evenly across the wall space were currently portraying the upper bodies of more Baikal Senior Officers in their dress uniforms. Each Leader on the individual monitors wore a thick black coat, grey undershirt, and navy-blue pants. White buttons in the shape of talons kept the uniform and pants together. On their shoulders, burnt orange rows and a series of dots signified their Rank. Slate bars, intermingled with blood red medals, adorned their left shoulders while a white belt wrapped around their midsections. The image of a golden dragon burning an emerald planet was placed on the right shoulder, just below the collar bone. Beneath it, their name and the name of their unit was imprinted with scarlet lettering in front of a snow-white backdrop. For those unlucky enough to attend the meeting in person, the attire was full armored Kit, minus the helmet. Because of the Ship’s close proximity to the front and the recent Huron attack, Indus gave the order for all participants to be in full kit, mainly as a form of punishment. Knowing that many of his Senior Officers were too fat to comfortably wear their equipment, he hoped their suffering would alert them to their complacency.

  Entering first, Krasny stepped into a room heavy with dread. Dim lighting cast a depressing ambiance in an atmosphere already overflowing with angst. Holographic data about Euphretes’s rescue mission silently hovered above the table’s surface. Images of a destroyed Dawn of Creation and subsequent Natron counter strike, that was currently gouging its way into the Baikal front, hovered before everyone’s eyes. Digital documents were also spread out everywhere, each one doing their best to represent the gravity of the situation while simultaneously placing blame on everyone other than the Emperor himself.

  Without warning, Indus exploded into the bleak conference room. Everyone swiftly rose to their feet and shouted in unison, “One Universe! One Empire! One Ruler!”

  “Sit!” The Emperor roared while tromping to the far end of room. Unamused by the political slogan, he began eyeing down anyone willing to look in his direction.

  Indus’s muscular frame filled the empty space between the end of the table and the nearest wall, which had turned from dark red to black in the Emperor’s presence. As he glared at the leadership in the room with icy disdain…

  “They crave responsibility for their failure.”

  The slightly feminine tone coming through the Emperor’s earpiece wrapped its sensual fingers around his ear canal and whispered. It felt like a needle was poking through his eardrum, creating a twisted sort of euphoric pain.

  “Every. Single. One of you. Has failed me!” The Emperor barked with vengeance. “How is it possible that a six man team managed to destroy MY FLAGSHIP?!”

  “You can see it in their eyes. They lust for a sacrifice to cleanse their shame.” With the voice only coming through his ear, Indus was forced to listen, unable to respond.

  “How is it possible that they not only got on board, but found the two most classified passengers IN THE UNIVERSE! I mean, up until a day ago, ONLY SIX OF YOU KNEW THAT THEY EVEN EXISTED!”

  “Sadly, this was not solely the result of the cancer among our midsts,” The voice snarled as it read the audience, “No, we have a larger problem.”

  The Emperor continued ranting, unaffected by the ethereal voice. “And how is it possible that YOU LET THEM ESCAPE!” Pausing briefly to catch his breath, “You’re all LUCKY that I was not on board! As far as I’m concerned, you’re all equally responsible here!” The men remained silent in their collective fear.

  “Give them Leuskie!” The voice ordered, referring to Admiral Leuskie Sharpest Baikal, the acting Commander for Dawn of Creation while Indus was gone. Even though the Delta Infiltrator’s detonation pulverized the Flagship, the Command Center survived because of its added protection.

  The room again stayed silent, not even a breath was drawn in nervous anticipation of what would come next. Only the sounds of Emperor Indus’s deep, wrathful breathing and pacing steps could be heard. “Admiral Leuskie!” Indus finally exclaimed, the tone filled to the brim with death.

  “Sir?” The Admiral immediately responded while lifting himself out of his chair and standing at attention.

  “As you know, I have been forgiving of late for botched missions and small mishaps. But this, this was a failure on a whole new level. Was it not, Admiral?”

  Leuskie swallowed before speaking, “Yes, your Majesty; it was a colossal failure on my part.”

  The Emperor leered menacingly, showing his perfect white teeth while placing a death grip on Leuskie’s shoulder. “Then what, in your expert opinion, should do I about said failure?”

  Another swallow, “Punish those responsible and find a swift, more painful way to retaliate.”

  “Make him say it.”

  The Emperor’s tone started getting more and more edgy, “And what punishment would you suggest fits the severity of the failure?” Indus asked, removing his hand from Leuskie’s shoulder and making his way back to the head of the table.

  The Admiral nervously looked around the room but proudly stood his ground. “Sir, if I was the Emperor, and the person I had left in Command in my absence allowed my Flagship to get destroyed, well then I would take the Most Senior Ranking Member aboard that Ship, place him in front of my most Senior Leaders, and end his life to prove a point.”

  The room was deadly silent as the men waited for the Emperor’s response.

  “Bold and audacious in the face of death. His is a noble sacrifice.”

  Indus’s back was now to the audience. “Why would you say that? You just sealed your fate,” He thought to himself. Turning around to look Leuskie in the eyes, “You are right, Admiral Leuskie,” Indus announced before turning to a Royal Protectorate standing at the entrance. A terror filled second later and Indus nodded his head.

  SSRRIIPP!

  Before Leuskie could fully comprehend what the head nod truly meant, a needle thin laser shot through his skull. Instantly cauterizing the wound at both ends, ensuring minimal blood was shed on the clean floors. The heat vaporized his brain in less than a fraction of second. The mercy kill ended his life instantly and painlessly. Before Leuskie’s body hit the floor, two droids popped out of the wall, caught it, and carried it out of the room. Without even a drop of blood left behind as evidence, it was as if Leuskie had never even existed.

  “Now, on to more important matters,” Indus coldly stated as he sat down at the head of the conference table.

  Empirical Admiral Krasny took his cue and quickly stood up, “Ladies and Gentlemen, as you well know, the Huron Military is making progress and will soon break through our outer defenses. And with the resurgence in hope from the return of their beloved Emperor, the Natron Military’s counter strike might force us to retreat entirely.”

  As the Empirical Admiral spoke, the ceiling’s data display kicked on and showed the truth of the two fronts. At the cusps of the Natron surrender, with their young Emperor surrounded, the sudden reversal of the enemy’s resolve pushed back the first Baikal assault wave. Not only that, it enabled an entirely surrounded Natron Fleet Combat Team to press forward to a more advantageous position without taking heavy casualties. While Indus could still easily overcome the Natron Fleet Combat Team, it would essentially force him to open up his entire Empire to the Huron Military. It was not a move he was sure he wanted to make.

  “The numbers show that our current location puts us at a disadvantage. So, a recommended course of action is for us to consolidate the stolen logistical supply, along with the remaining human cargo, and move them to a safe location. From there, we’re free to move and stop the Huron advance.”

 
Schematics for the Emperor’s planned course of action enlarged above the table and all around the audience. The Huron front was highlighted in the center, with the bulk of the Baikal Forces in transition to bolster the secondary defenses within the Baikal Empire. At the opposite end of the table from the Emperor was the Baikal Military’s Natron Front, which was currently in a world of hurt.

  Krasny continued briefing, “Once the Emperor feels that the Huron advance has been stopped, we’ll return our focus to establishing another Natron front.”

  A brave Admiral Svyre Maezon Baikal slowly stood up. “Sir, why don’t we go straight for Emperor Carpathian. We greatly outnumber him.” All heads turned to the Emperor, who stood up with a fury. Knowing not to continue speaking, Krasny could only wait and watch.

  Indus purposefully strode over to the standing Svyre, his hands clenched into fists. He stopped right in front of him and glared. Remarkably, the Admiral showed no fear in the face of certain death.

  “Patience, Indus.”

  “Admiral Svyre, that is a good question. And thank you for showing the courage to bring up what I’m sure others were too cowardly to ask. Please, take your seat.” Indus commanded as he gazed around the room and studied everyone’s stunned expression. Meanwhile, Admiral Svyre’s smug look on the way down to his seat let the entire audience know that he just made them all look bad.