The next clip showed conflicting emotions on Makram’s face. “This assignment is starting to get to me. I keep finding myself forgetting that I’m only acting. They’re drawing me in. I have to remind myself of who I am, and why I’m here. Being their commander has me actually looking out for them in sincerity, instead of as part of my cover story. They put their lives in my hands. I feel…responsible for their wellbeing. Even the new guy is starting to grow on me.”
In the background of the next video confession, Theo thought he recognized part of the Kinyah monastery. “I’m going to have to make a decision soon. I know we’ve been planning this for so long, but I can’t help but feel like it’s moving too quickly now. I can feel my loyalties being torn in two different directions.” He ran his fingers through his hair anxiously. “How can I even be considering choosing this fake life over the fate of the empire? There’s no way Karl would let me get away with it if he knew I was having second thoughts. I can’t let him win. It’s turned into a high-stakes competition with my brother. If it comes down to one of us taking the throne, it has to be me. I have to be willing to give up these fake human connections for the good of the empire. They don’t even know who I really am. The only reason they like me is because they don’t know the real me.” There was a knock on the door of Makram’s room at the monastery. In the video, he quickly covered up whatever he was using to make the recordings. The recorder was still able to see part of the room from under a gap in the blanket he had tossed on top of it.
Cherish entered the room. She looked around curiously. “I thought I heard you talking to someone. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“I was just talking to myself.”
“Oh,” She looked at him shyly. “They said dinner is almost ready. I was coming to see if you were ready.”
“Almost.” Makram started to reach out to her. His hand hesitated, as if he were trying to hold himself back. In the next second, he gave in. Makram grabbed her hand, and pulled her close to him. His other arm looped around her waist.
“Makram!” She blushed, but didn’t pull away.
“I think we need a little more practice to make this believable. Last time, you turned away from me when I tried to kiss you.” He dropped her hand, and instead moved his hand up to the cup the back of her head. He held her firmly against him. “No wife of mine would turn away. Not after she had experienced my kiss.” He slowly let his eyes savor the way her lips parted ever so slightly. The anticipation made her breathe faster. Makram pressed his lips to hers, and kissed her passionately. When he pulled away, he smirked at the awestruck look on her face.
Back in the throne room, Emperor Makramis heard the trumpets announcing the arrival of one of his generals. He quickly cut off the playback and moved the data sphere behind his back, tucked safely out of sight. The doors swung open as he composed himself. General Fynnrick clasped his right hand into a fist and pressed it over his chest, while giving a slight bow.
“What is it Fynn?” Makram was still agitated from his consult with his former physicians.
“Father, there’s news of a warrior religious movement gaining traction in the outer rim.”
Makram rolled his eyes. “There’s always news of small groups of discontent. You can’t please everyone all the time, Fynnrick. Let that be a lesson to you.”
“This one is different. There’s concern that it could eventually lead to an uprising.”
The emperor sighed. “There’s always that concern. You’re not telling me anything new, boy.”
“Don’t you want to at least know the name of the group?”
Makram decided to humor his son. “Fine. What’s the name?”
Fynn locked eyes with his father. “They’re calling themselves Yasta.”
Irane cut the video feed as Makram’s eyes widened with recognition, and what Theo thought could only be fear. Theo’s mind was racing. He turned to Irane. “Is this the future?”
Theo noticed for the first time that they had descended into the city, between the giant otherworldly buildings. Guards lining the streets below. The pedestrians he could see bore fearful expressions. This was not a happy, shining city. This was despair and repression in living form.
“This is the future, but only if you do nothing.” Irane’s face was mournful. He watched as a guard slammed the butt of his blaster into a woman’s face. “This is only a possible future. This is the current projection of what will happen if good men do nothing.”
Theo looked at the horror beneath them. “Me? But, what can I do? How can I possibly change anything? I’m just a farmer.”
Irane smiled at him. “You are no more just a farmer than I am just Irane.” A brilliant golden light began to emanate from him, filling the ship’s small cabin.
Irane’s body started to transform. Two Aphian wings unfurled from his shoulders. Theo unbuckled, and backed away. He tripped, and ended up on his hind end as Josti arms stretched out from Irane’s shoulders and sides. His legs became a tangle of roots.
Theo scrambled to his feet again, and flattened himself against the rear bulkhead. Nothing I’ve seen today matters any more. I’m a dead man.
When Irane spoke, his voice was the sound of calm serenity. “Theo, I am Batumah. I am the divine manifestation of Ushman, the Supreme Reality of All that has Been and All that shall Ever Be.”
Batumah floated over to Theo. With one hand, he reached out to touch the center of Theo’s forehead. Theo closed his eyes. He felt Batumah’s golden light pouring into him. Each molecule was at once him, and not him. Theo could see in his mind’s eye all of the people on every planet in the entire galaxy all at once. He felt their joy, their suffering, their longing to be heard. It was a flood of emotion that he was not prepared for. Waves of inexplicable change and transformation poured through him, as both his body and inner being became one with Batumah’s light.
Then, Theo felt himself shrinking back in on himself. It was as if he had been freed from a cage, and then was sucked back in. His comprehension of the exact thoughts and details of so many other consciousnesses was too much for him to contain. What he did have was an ache, an intrinsic knowledge of a void that was felt by everyone at some point in their lives, an intense understanding of the need to be understood and valued. The people of the galaxy had cried out in a unified prayer, and through Batumah, he had heard them.
Theo felt tears streaming down his cheeks. He turned away from Batumah. He couldn’t look at him. Was that burden—that gift—what Irane felt all the time? He remembered yelling at the young man earlier, and felt intensely ashamed of himself.
Batumah spoke to him gently. “All that you have seen is part of Ushman. There is a Yasta prophecy about the great warrior prophet called Hulaki. A rough translation means ‘Batumah’s Chosen One.’ He will be the one to lead the universe to true enlightenment and release. Should you choose not to accept this role, the future will be an imperial boot stamping upon the galactic civilization. But Theo, you must understand. This is a choice. You have the power to decide. It is a choice you must make freely, and willingly.” Batumah shrank back into the less intimidating form of Irane.
Even though the person in the ship looked like Irane again, Theo could still only see the being of pure light he had witnessed only moments earlier. Reality felt like it had much sharper edges now. Gone was the confusion and repression inherent in every human mind.
Batumah was giving him the choice over his destiny. No matter what the consequences were, Theo knew what his decision had to be. “I accept.”
Irane nodded slowly, approvingly. “Very well.” A smile flickered at the corners of his mouth. But then, a weight seemed to descend on him. “There is one more thing that you must see.” Irane waved his hand. The streets below, darkening under the dusk sky, suddenly brightened as the sides of the buildings came alive with enormous video displays. For now, they showed the logo of the empire: a golden chain, surrounding a stylized man and woman with a planet and stars in the background.
Surrounding this were the words: PROTECTION AND WEALTH FOR ALL, written in the script of the Castor language. Everyone in the streets stopped in their tracks and looked up at the propaganda broadcast.
Then, the logo disappeared, and the screens showed an image of Mari as an elderly woman. She was in chains. Makram shoved her down on her knees.
Emperor Makramis addressed the cameras, in Theo’s native tongue, which Castorians also knew. “Theo, Hulaki, whatever you call yourself now, do you recognize this woman? Is this not the mother of your children?” The camera zoomed in on Mari’s face. She had been badly beaten, and she was crying. She tried to hold herself up tall, but age and hardship had bent her spine. She was a broken woman. Makram grabbed a fistful of her hair, and jerked her head backwards. “Did you know she survived the fire on Relisse? Though if you ask her, she may have preferred to die there. You see, before the destruction of the planet, imperial soldiers captured young, beautiful women, and brought them back for the emperor. Your precious Mari lived her life in my father’s harem! When he was done with her, she was passed around as sloppy seconds to his sons and soldiers. When she cried out your name and begged for help, they cut out her tongue. When she tried to fight back, they cut off her fingers and toes. Then, when they were done with her, they tossed her aside like shriveled waste.” Makram pulled out his blade. He let it rest against her throat. “People of the galaxy, if your precious Hulaki cannot even protect the mother of his children, then how do you expect him to protect you?” Makram pulled the blade in one, swift movement. Mari’s blood spilled down the steps of the palace.
Theo shook with rage and shock. His jaw was clenched tight, and his hands clasped into fists. Makram would never become emperor. Theo would make sure of it. He would take care of Makram before he got the chance. He managed one utterance, through gritted teeth. “Back in our time, where is he?”
Nine
Cierra helped the group push the cart they had loaded with blasters. Makka was still using her energy to keep them and their stash hidden. After listening to Makram plotting in the weapon room, Cierra had decided to change the plan. They only grabbed what they could get in one run. It would have to work. Their new objective was to follow Makram when he left the base, and execute one of their own—or so he had made himself out to be. Killing Makram was the only logical conclusion. Anything less wouldn’t stop him from pursuing his plan.
Cierra, Jaedo, and Makka stopped at the back of the container ship they were parked on top of. They focused on unloading the weapons, forming a chain to get them up to the still concealed ship. Cierra glanced over her shoulder. Cherish was sprinting down the hallway. She wasn’t invisible, but in a moment that wouldn’t matter.
Cherish ran towards them, and ducked down. “Everyone get ready!”
A loud explosion from inside the base shook the garrison. In the aftermath of Cherish’s bomb going off, the base went on high alert. Dust shook free from the ceiling, and covered them in a cloud. Emergency lights flared off and on. Sirens screamed. A reinforced door in front of the hangar entrance slammed shut, sealing them inside.
“Quick! Get it onboard.” Cierra hissed to her team.
The soldiers were already going into formation. They didn’t have much time. Using the chaos to their benefit, the group loaded the weapons faster, while trying to be as quiet as possible. Cierra’s heart was pounding in her chest. They were almost done unloading the weapons from the cart.
Troops poured into the hangar. Some jumped into attack ships. Others raced straight into the fray, towards where the bomb had detonated. They were trapped. Cierra tried to think of a way out. If they fought, and tried to shoot their way out, they were still trapped by the hangar door.
Prince Makramis stormed into the hangar. “There are missing blasters! I want a full personnel scan!”
“Look!” One the soldiers pointed towards the back of a container ship. “I swear, that cart just appeared out of thin air! I’m not making it up!”
Makram whirled around to look the cart. He pulled a lasana blade from his scabbard. “Yasta concealment! Our enemies are invisible!”
Makram moved closer to the ship, whirling his blade around his head, reaching out for an invisible foe. The troops were looking at him as if he had gone mad. Makram let out a loud yell, and sliced open the container ship. Nothing. It was completely empty inside. Eyes wide, he stopped slashing. Suddenly, the top of the container ship groaned ever so slightly. Inside of the invisible ship, Cierra reached out to stop everyone from moving. She was certain Makram had heard them. It was only a matter of time now before he found them. Makka and Fabois couldn’t keep them concealed forever.
Suddenly, a loud explosion echoed from the hangar bay doors! A small ship with a powerful electric forcefield punched a hole straight through the metal of the doors. The ship circled around the interior of the hangar like a trapped bird, the downward blast from its engines scattering the troops. They soon took up new positions and began pelting the invader with fire.
Makram whirled on his soldiers. “What are you doing? Don’t just stand there! Destroy it!”
The hits simply ricocheted off. The ship must have been composed of an impenetrable metal substance. Theo gazed down into the crowd from the ship in the air. “I don’t see him! Where is he?”
“You need to make a decision, Theo!” Irane yelled at him over the rain of blasts pinging the sides of the ship. “We can stay to try and find Makram, but if we do, Cierra and the others will die. If you want to save them, we need to leave now! Our exit will make the hole big enough for them to escape behind us.”
Theo thought about the options. The blasters were starting to shoot at empty space, too. Where ever the rest of the team was, they would be caught in the crossfire if he didn’t do anything. Struggling internally, Theo cursed under his breath. There would be time to get Makram another day. “Go! Let’s get out of here!”
Spinning around a few more times, the ship turned back towards the hangar doors, and punched another large hole through the doors, going back the way it had come. The hole it left behind was twice as large as it had been a moment ago. Theo gritted his teeth. He had made the decision to keep Cierra and the others alive. Makram would get what was coming to him.
“Everyone, hold on!” Cierra yelled at her crew. She slammed on the throttle, and zoomed out of the large, jagged hole just as Makka and Fabois fainted from exertion. Their ship became visible just for a second as they left the imperial garrison behind.
“No!” Makram screamed after them, and threw his lasana blade at the wall. It embedded deeply into the side of the hangar. His face was red with frustration and anger. The thieves had escaped from under his nose, and now someone else had their hands on the new blasters.
Ten
Cierra landed the ship back at the base. To her surprise, the ship that had rescued them had flown back to their hideaway, too. She didn’t recognize the craft, but if the pilot had rescued them from Makram and the imperials, they couldn’t be that bad. Still, she couldn’t take any chances. She disembarked, one of the new blasters in hand. “Come out, with your hands where I can see them!”
The door opened. Theo disembarked from the strange ship with his hands held over his head. “Better be careful with that. You’ll put someone’s eye out.” He smirked at her.
Cierra dropped the blaster, and ran to him. She jumped and wrapped her arms around his neck. Theo laughed, and hugged her back. It felt good to have her next to him again. He breathed in the scent of her hair. Theo realized he was holding on to her too long. He quickly let her go, and cleared his throat. Her cheeks turned red. Theo felt guilty. Mari was still out there somewhere. He needed to sort out the emotions that were warring inside of him.
Irane climbed out of the ship behind them. There was no indication that he was anything other than a normal person. “It seems we all had a busy day today.”
Cierra looked at them both. All joy faded from her face. She was back to business again. “Makram
is a prince.”
“I know.” Theo nodded. “He’s planning on dethroning the emperor.”
She looked at him worriedly, and chewed on her bottom lip. “What are we going to do?”
Jaedo jumped out of the ship. He strode over to Theo and Irane. The Josti pulled them both into a tight hug. “There you two are!”
“Jaedo!” Theo patted him on the back. He was a welcome sight, but they had important matters to attend to. “Okay, everyone. Listen up. Things are worse than we thought.” He took a deep breath. “We’re going to take down the emperor, and destroy the imperial regime. I don’t know how we are going to do it yet, but it’s happening.”
To his surprise, there wasn’t any resistance from the others. Cierra picked up the blaster she had dropped earlier, and tossed it to him. “Well, these should help. Now we just need an army to use them. Maybe we can find a way to make use of Makram’s coup.”
Theo looked over the blaster in his hand. He thought back to what he had seen in the future. Makram’s future son had said there was religious cult that was gaining traction. Theo saw no reason why that revolution couldn’t be bumped up by a hundred years. He smiled, and looked at the team around him. “We could, but I know a bigger, better army we can use.”
Dark Matter
The Relissarium Wars Space Opera Series, Book 9
One
Dirt smeared across Theo’s face turned to sweaty mud as he ran frantically through the night. His lungs burned. Rocks turned under his feet, making him stumble. The rough terrain bit into his knees every time he fell. Behind him, Theo could hear the guards shouting. Lights swung in the darkness. Blasters fired wildly in the distance. They were looking for him.
The Relissarium Wars Omnibus Page 47