The Renegade

by P. M. Johnson

  Ravenwood listened to the chants and slowly approached Logan from behind. “It would appear a certain mythos has evolved around you,” he said into Logan’s ear. “The Tullans certainly have high hopes that you’ll end the Sahiradin menace once and for all.”

  Logan didn’t know what to say. He looked out over the many faces of the Tullans, all of whom were chanting in unison and pumping the air with their fists.

  The human soldiers had heard the Brevian translators repeat what the Tullans had said, and now they too looked at Logan in awe. They already knew him as a legendary fighter, the man who breached the Capitol District’s walls then took over Second Army and destroyed the remnants of PRA power. But seeing an alien species place such hope for victory on Logan’s shoulders raised him even higher in their esteem, taking him beyond the realm of heroes and imbuing him with the aura of predestination.

  “This is a unique opportunity to unite the Tullans,” offered Ravenwood from behind Logan. “Word of your response to their chants will spread quickly. Do not waste this moment.”

  Logan turned to look at Ravenwood, locking eyes with the old man, not trying to hide his displeasure with old man’s goading. He then looked out over the crowd once again. The Tullans continued their chanting while the Rahani and Visk looked around, astounded by the seemingly unanimous enthusiasm for the Humani. From the sides of the room, along the walls and in the corners, Brevians stood quietly observing, fascinated by the sudden shift in mood among the Tullans.

  Logan glanced at Beth, unsure how to proceed. On the one hand, he was surprised that it was so widely known that he was a Navigator and that he had fought Khadiem during the Battle of Halduan. On the other, he was deeply bothered by the Tullans’ willingness to hang their own hopes and believes on him. How could he possibly meet such expectations? How could he hold himself out as the person who would make their dreams of peace and victory real without engaging in the same demagoguery he had accused Attika of practicing?

  “What should I say, Beth?”

  “That’s up to you” she replied calmly. “You know what we’re up against. We’re going to war, Logan. We’ll be fighting on Agurru very soon. What do you think these warriors and soldiers need to hear in order to face the challenges to come? What will inspire them to fight on when the enemy is at their throats?”

  Logan looked at Ravenwood. The older man was staring intently at Logan, a look of expectation on his face. He gave Logan an encouraging nod then looked out over the crowd. The chanting had grown louder as the Rahani, Visk, and human soldiers joined in.

  Logan gave Ravenwood a sharp look. He didn’t like being manipulated and wondered whether Ravenwood had somehow orchestrated all of this. Then he grit his teeth hard and turned toward the crowd. Logan slowly raised his arm and clenched his hand into a fist. All of those gathered on the floor before him stopped their chanting and erupted into a resounding cheer.

  Chapter 32

  The Alamani had a curious interest in lesser versions of themselves. They delighted in building automatons and other mechanical reflections of their own nature. But they never went so far as to grant these things the gift of self-awareness. The Alamani guarded against that quite carefully. They forbade it throughout the Trade Federation and swiftly punished any who dared defy them.

  - Summa Ter. On the Causes of the Great Betrayal.

  Kurak followed two Karazan warrior-priestess through a series of rooms, each one decorated with the weapons, war trophies, and statues of the queens of old. The queen’s ancient maze-fortress, called Solsegur, or Heart of the Mountain, had been cut from the roots of the highest peak of the Vaal-Greheb mountain range, which twists and turns like a serpent’s spine nearly three-quarters of the way across the planet Sahir’s largest continent. The fortress had been created countless generations before and consisted of a vast network of tunnels, guard chambers, combat training facilities, Karazan barracks, and feeding halls. At the heart of the network were the Queen’s extensive personal quarters and her birthing chamber where the tiny eggs of each new generation are gathered and separated by attentive drone workers for further development in their nurseries. Also in the heart of the queen’s domain lay the great audience hall to which Kurak had been summoned.

  Kurak had entered Solsegur through its only access, the Tûrra-Zermoch, or Red Gate, which connected the queen’s domain with the much larger complex of tunnels, halls, and chambers of Nossegur, the home of the male Sahiradin. There was no access to Nossegur except through its massive outer gate, and there was no access to down Solsegur except through Tûrra-Zermoch.

  The reasons for this arrangement were manifold and could be traced at least as far back as the Great Upheaval, when Queen Dennakara led her children to Sahir. Yet, as complicated as the rules governing male-female Sahiradin interactions had become over the generations, they all rested on the fundamental fact that the survival of the species rested on the queen’s ability to produce sufficient numbers of male warriors, Karazan, and drones when her cycle was upon her. The Sahiradins’ rigid devotion to the Law, tradition, and ritual were the result of the pervasive need to guard against all threats to their queen. She was their physical, even spiritual, connection between past, present, and future. Without her, all bonds to preceding generations turned to dust and the promise of the species’ survival disappeared like smoke in the wind.

  Kurak was led through a final series of rooms then into the queen’s main audience chamber. He strode across the floor, shoulders squared, chin held high. When he reached the center of the room, he turned to face the throne upon which Queen Khadiem sat. She was dressed in her blood-red armor. A long, thin cape, black as Permidian’s heart, was draped across her left shoulder.

  Kurak walked several steps forward and bowed his head, his hand lightly touching his breast. Behind him, ten Karazan, Khadiem’s own spawn, filed in, each one eyeing him suspiciously from under their heavy brows. Khadiem’s daughters were keenly aware of what had befallen Pashira and were suspicious of all, even Khadiem’s favorite warrior and confidant, a position the queen slayer himself had held before he committed the unthinkable crime.

  “Queen Khadiem, Mother of all Sahiradin, Kaiytáva Wielder, Source of Life,” said Kurak. “I come in answer to your summons.”

  The Queen’s dark lips stretched into a cruel smile, revealing perfectly straight white teeth and large canines. She raised an ornate goblet to her mouth and drank the last few drops of her maliak, a mixture of rare ingredients designed to promote the Queen’s health and reproductive potential.

  “Ah, Kurak,” she purred, “my trustworthy Master of Ships and Warden of the Citadel. Finally, I sit upon my throne under the Sacred Mountain.”

  “As it should have been long ago. The Kisch was foolish to have delayed for so long.”

  “The Ascension Ceremony has been performed. Now is the time for action. We must move quickly. Have my intentions been made clear to our wayward generals?”

  “Our Karazan emissaries have delivered their messages.”

  “Were there any attempts to interfere? Did their subordinates object?”

  “No my Queen. Seeing the new Queen’s Karazan spill the blood of their treasonous commanders achieved the desired results. They admire your boldness. All will now follow you without question.”

  “And the bodies? What have you done with the generals’ bodies?”

  “Cast into the darkest corners of space. There will be no graves, no markers, to serve as rallying points for others. The natural order has been restored. One Queen, now and forever.”

  “Now and forever,” repeated the Karazan as one.

  “Good. But before we can chart a path forward, we must meet with the Kisch. Tell me, have they assembled?”

  “Yes. They await your arrival in the Citadel.”

  “Good.” Khadiem stood up from her throne and descended the dais, her face a hardened mask of grim determination. “Then let us go.”

  She confidently walked past Kurak, her long
black cape flowing behind her like the rolling waters of a dark sea. She passed through the audience chamber’s doors and entered the hall beyond. Kurak and the ten Karazan followed at a respectful distance. The procession soon left the collection of rooms and chambers of the Queen’s inner quarters and entered the labyrinth of twisting passageways that formed an impenetrable maze, now being radically reconfigured by hundreds of Khadiem’s tireless drones.

  At last they reached Tûrra-Zermoch and entered Nossegur, the realm of the male of the species. Though the Queen was sovereign over all Sahiradin, she exercised direct authority only over her Karazan and her drones. That being said, her ability to influence the adult males of the species grew considerably when, as now, her reproductive cycle approached. Khadiem would soon choose a mate, and as with past Queens she would withhold her choice until the last moment in order to achieve maximum influence.

  Khadiem and her entourage were met by a group of five male Sahiradin in long robes of red and gold, signifying their rank as leaders of the Kisch.

  The five delegates bowed their heads then led Khadiem along a wide passage and up a grand staircase cut from the living rock of the Sacred Mountain. Once they had reached the uppermost level, the group entered a large hall decorated by massive statues of legendary warriors and leaders.

  They passed under an ornately decorated archway into the open air, crossing the bridge which connected the central structure of the Sacred Mountain to a steep peak nearly one hundred meters away. Cold winds whipped their garments around them until they reached the domed Citadel’s tall doors, which silently opened to admit them. A figure in black and red robes stood in the entrance.

  “Queen Khadiem, the Kisch congratulates you on your recent accession to the throne and welcomes you to the Citadel,” said the male Sahiradin.

  “Thank you, Tahan Sahuuk, leader of the Kisch,” replied Khadiem.

  Khadiem looked around the room and took in its details. Unlike the rest of the Sacred Mountain, the Citadel was built above ground, allowing it to be filled with sunlight. Black and red drapery hung on either side of the tall windows that ringed the room. Statues of warriors in armor and legendary leaders in robes occupied the spaces between the windows. A large circular table with an open center dominated the middle of the room. Twenty-five chairs were positioned around the table, and behind each chair stood a member of the Kisch. A gap in the table allowed speakers to access its open center where they could address the council.

  As Khadiem studied the Citadel’s interior, Kurak and the Karazan who had accompanied Khadiem spread out along the curved wall behind her.

  “So this is the famed Citadel,” she said. “Am I correct in saying that I am the first female to have ever entered this chamber?”

  When Sahuuk gave her a questioning look, she continued, “I am not familiar with the traditions of the Sacred Mountain. You see, I was not given the education of a Pressa, a young Queen before she selects her first mate. Instead, my mother and Bakaram, the Queen Slayer, saw fit to raise me in the cold heart of a dead and sunless planet.”

  Sahuuk bowed his head, aware of the resentment and anger simmering just below the surface of the Queen’s words. “I understand, my Queen. And yes, you are correct that the Citadel is traditionally a place limited to your male servants, with the exception of the narae mahúun ceremony when a Queen presents herself following a birthing. Direct interactions between the Kisch and the Queen are conducted through a Warden of the Citadel, and it is he who descends to Solsegur to interact with her on our behalf.”

  “Yes, but that arrangement is different now, is it not?” said Khadiem. “I have already chosen my Warden. He is Kurak, Victor of the Battle of Halduan. I did not find it convenient to first seek the advice of the Kisch, nor did I choose him from your ranks. In that way, Kurak is more my representative to you rather than your representative to me. Does that concern you?”

  Sahuuk directed his eyes downward. “Your selection was unconventional but certainly within your authority as Queen,” he said in a respectful but cool tone.

  Khadiem took a few steps toward the gap in the table that would admit her into its center, but she stopped just before entering and placed a hand on the table’s surface.

  “My arrival is unprecedented. I can see that my presence here disturbs you,” she said, addressing all of the male Sahiradin gathered in the chamber. “You do not care to have any female within the precincts of your exclusive domain, especially if that female is the Queen of all Sahiradin. Unless, of course, she is undergoing the humiliation of presenting herself for inspection following a birthing.”

  Members of the Kisch exchanged uncertain looks upon hearing this negative characterization of the narae mahúun ceremony.

  “I have come here now to inform the Kisch that a great many traditions will change under my rule.”

  She raised her hand and pointed to a nearby empty chair.

  “Take your seat, Sahuuk. Sit down, all of you.”

  Sahuuk bowed his head and joined the others at the table, then as one, they lowered themselves into their seats.

  “My fellow Sahiradin,” began Khadiem. “Most of you were birthed by my mother, Queen Pashira. A few of you were birthed by her mother, Queen Burukka. No Sahiradin Queen is given to sentimentalism, but believe me when say that I consider all of you to be my children. And although I have only recently ascended the throne, I hope that I can occupy a portion of that place in your hearts every warrior reserves for his birth Queen.”

  “But I did not come to the Citadel to swim in emotion like the Rahani or deceive you like the Brevians. I came here to announce the arrival of a new dawn in the relations between us. Tradition dictates that I remain deep below the mountain and you remain above. It was intended to be a means of protecting the Queen, but this arrangement creates undesirable, even dangerous, disunity between us. It is this disunity, this lack of common purpose, which has prevented us from ending this pointless conflict with the Lycian Separatists and restoring the Law to its proper place in all parts of the galaxy. Therefore, from this day forward, I will no longer dwell below the mountain. Instead, I will reside in Nossegur. I will rule from here and the Citadel shall be my audience chamber. Our close proximity will strengthen the bonds between mother and offspring, ruler and warrior.”

  This announcement was clearly an unwelcome surprise to the members of the Kisch. They stirred in their seats and flashed confused, even angry, looks at one another. Sahuuk began to speak but Khadiem silenced him with a raised hand.

  “I am not finished, Sahuuk.”

  The old warrior held his tongue and touched his hand to his breast in a sign of submission.

  Khadiem slowly walked to her right around the large circular table, lightly placing a hand on the back of each chair as she passed by. Five of her Karazan trailed a few paces behind her.

  “This shocks you. I can see that. You dislike the thought of making such changes, but we all agree that we are servants of the Law, and we all seek to restore the Law to its proper place of respect and authority in the galaxy. Has that not been the rallying cry for generations of Sahiradin? The Alamani violated the Law by trying to destroy the Sahiradin. They would have enslaved them all to create their vision of paradise in a far away galaxy filled with the wondrous planets they had discovered. The Alamani planned to make us their taskmasters, cracking the whip to extract every drop of labor possible from the Lycians. Had they succeeded with their devious plans, all Lycians would now be helpless, weak, and impoverished. When our enemies talk of the causes of the war, they do not speak of this Alamani plot which we Sahiradin exposed and prevented. But we remember. We were the only Children of Bréh with the courage to admit that to preserve the Law, the Alamani and their foul ambitions had to be dealt with, permanently. Ironically, the Alamani went crawling to the others for protection, and after we had removed the Alamani as a threat the Lycians saw us as their enemy.”

  “We have striven in vain for many generations to reunite th
e galaxy and restore the order what once was.” Khadiem paused a moment and looked into the eyes of several of the most prominent members of the Kisch, including Sahuuk’s, then continued her measured walk around the table. “Sadly, the long struggle against the Separatists has demonstrated that we can never return to the past. We must therefore set our sights on new horizons if we are to restore the Law to its place of honor.”

  “And what awaits us on these new horizons, my Queen? What shape will the new order take?” asked Sahuuk politely, though he could not hide the condescension in his voice. His meaning was not lost on those gathered in the Citadel. The Sahiradin Queen is their sovereign, but traditionally speaking, the Kisch had primary authority over military and administrative matters.

  Khadiem had reached the mid-point of the table and now stood directly opposite Sahuuk. She placed her hands on the back of the chair in front of her and smiled, revealing her strong white teeth.

  “It will take the shape that it must, the only shape possible,” she said. “The Law cannot be restored if we seek to recreate the old relationships.”

  “If I may be so bold, my Queen,” said Sahuuk, “If you are proposing that the Sahiradin directly rule over the other Lycians in some form or another, we have all heard the argument before. Indeed, that was the desire of your predecessors. And as attractive as that notion may still be to some, it is now the position of the Kisch that it is impossible to rule over all Lycians for the simple fact that we are too few in number to rule by force. Generations of war and years of experience ruling, often ineffectively, over the Reclaimed Worlds has shown us that.”

  Khadiem lowered her chin and glared from under her brow.

  “You are wrong to say that we are too few to create a new order in the galaxy. You are forgetting I now have a Kaiytáva, and like the Alamani I can project power to any place in the galaxy at a moment’s notice.”

  “One Kaiytáva, my Queen,” said Sahuuk. “And because the Navigators are extinct, that one Kaiytávae can transport just one ship at a time, hardly comparable to the powerful fleets that once appeared in the skies over wayward worlds when we served the Alamani. With respect, it is not enough, my Queen. We must face realities and seek to consolidate the Reclaimed Worlds into a cohesive and integrated whole. We are too few to achieve more. Therefore, after we have destroyed the reactors on Agurru and crippled the enemy, we will sue for peace. Chancellor Penawah and the Dewar will be forced to accept.”