Looking once more at D’Sur, Taqir asked, “How is it that Kurak is able to reach us? Has the Kisch deployed a new khâl to this system?”
“No, sir. He’s aboard Havoc. He used the Kaiytáva and appeared on our right flank. He is matching speed.”
Taqir clenched his hand into a fist. If Kurak is hailing him from Havoc, it was yet another sign of Khadiem’s faith and confidence in him.
“Very well. Let’s hear what the fool has to say.”
D’Sur responded with a quick nod. He turned toward the bridge and signaled for the communications officer to respond to Kurak’s request. Moments later, the holographic data Taqir had been studying was replaced by the image of Kurak.
“Ah, Kurak. Have you come to join in the battle against the Lycians?” asked Taqir in a taunting tone. “Quite admirable for a warrior in his final generation. Tell me, have your muscles begun to constrict? Are your withering organs failing in their functions?”
Kurak narrowed his eyes. He reflexively placed a hand on the tunic sleeve covering one of his mollag implants.
“Your decision to destroy this system’s khâl has left you ignorant of recent events, Taqir,” replied Kurak with a scowl. “Khadiem has ascended the throne under the Sacred Mountain. She has named me both her Master of Ships and Warden of the Citadel.”
Taqir could not mask his shock at hearing this. “You, Master of Ships and Warden? I am surprised that the new Queen was able to convince the Kisch to appoint you to either post much less both of them!”
“Khadiem’s actions are no longer constrained by that council of cowards,” replied Kurak with a sneer. “Her Karazan dispatched them when they refused to follow her command to accept nothing less than complete victory over the enemy whatever the cost. Furthermore, to signify this return to our core principles of strength, honor, and victory, Khadiem has adopted the title of Empress.”
Taqir clenched his teeth in order to prevent words of rage from escaping. The Kisch murdered? Khadiem now to be called Empress? This foul skurucka, Kurak, now Master of Ships and Warden of the Citadel?
“Well, Master and Warden,” seethed Taqir, “you have certainly found your path to power. What are your orders? Does the Empress wish to alter our plans to attack Agurru? Will Havoc now lead the assault and garner all the glory?”
“No, Fleet Commander. You will continue as planned,” ordered Kurak. “However, your little ploy of destroying the khâl in order to block communications with Sahir has displeased the Empress greatly.”
“I was acting under orders of the Kisch,” replied Taqir weakly. “Sahuuk instructed me to do so.”
“And now Sahuuk’s body is among the Ancestors, searching for its head. Unless you wish to share his fate, you will forget anything he or the Kisch ordered you to do. I am placing a khâl behind your advancing fleet. It will be fully deployed by the time you reach Agurru.”
“If it is your plan to send reinforcements, they will not be necessary,” grumbled Taqir. “And there will certainly be no need for us to retreat.”
“The battle is yours to win or lose, Fleet Commander. The khâl will be there to ensure you remain in contact. Do you require any further assistance?”
Taqir thought briefly about his inability to gather detailed information about Lycian preparations on Agurru. Havoc could use the Kaiytáva to appear close to the planet and gather much needed intelligence or launch probes that would do so, but he did not want to give Kurak the satisfaction of knowing about his dilemma.
“No, Master of Ships, Kurak,” he said tersely. “I do not require assistance.”
“Very well. I will leave you then. The Lycians are in disarray. They are desperate. So desperate that they are now pleading with the Humani to commit troops to the defense of Agurru. The Humani are sending an unknown number, but among them is certain to be the Navigator, Logan Brandt.” The holographic image of Logan’s face appeared. “He cannot be allowed to leave the battlefield alive. Do you understand my orders?”
Intrigued by the fact that the Humani Navigator might be on Agurru, Taqir raised an eyebrow. “You can rely on me.”
“You have a vastly superior fleet,” said Kurak. “Your troop transports are bulging with warriors. You should have no trouble winning this battle and crippling the enemy’s ability to carry on. If you win, you may redeem yourself in the eyes of the Empress. If you fail, I recommend you include yourself among the casualties. It would be a more merciful fate than what will await you on Sahir.
The Master of Ships then abruptly ended the transmission, leaving Taqir to consider the new balance of power. The Kisch had been slaughtered, Khadiem was now Empress, and Kurak had become the most powerful warrior in the galaxy. Much had changed since his fleet had embarked on this massive assault deep into enemy territory. Perhaps now was the time to explore his options. Despite Kurak’s threats, Taqir was still a viable candidate to be selected as Khadiem’s consort. How long could the old warrior keep death at bay? Surely, he would soon be overtaken by the debilitating physical and mental breakdown that awaited every warrior who reached his tenth generation. In fact, Taqir was surprised that Kurak still had the capacity to move under his own power.
The Fleet Commander stood up and walked toward Retribution’s bridge. Once he destroyed the power generators on Agurru, he would be a hero and therefore the leading candidate to be chosen as Khadiem’s consort. And if he survived the coupling, he could also count on succeeding Kurak as her leading advisor and military commander.
“Show me Havoc,” he demanded.
The image of the battleship appeared on the main view screen. A khâl could be seen emerging from one of her docking bays. A team of droids immediately began working to deploy the gate.
“Increase speed to Agurru,” order Taqir.
“Sir,” said D’Sur. “We will outpace some of our smaller ships.”
“I don’t care,” growled Taqir. “We have ships to spare. Increase speed. Get me to Agurru.”
Chapter 40
The Law teaches all Lycians to honor one’s oaths, injure no other, thieve not, comfort the infirm, and wage no war. Observance of the Law ensures the smooth functioning of a society overflowing with individuals and groups who seek to gain wealth, power, prestige, and other advantages at the expense of others. Their measure of what is good is comparative in nature. It is constantly in flux because it hinges on external factors, the wealth and influence of others. But the Law instructs us that what is good is not linked in any way to the advantages or disadvantages of others. The Law stands alone like a mountain rising above the plains; it is immutable and firm. Therefore, the only measure of what is good is the degree to which society complies with the Law. The Lycians point, quite self-servingly, to Sahiradin actions in support of the Law and decry our apparent violation of its most fundamental principles. Yet, what the Separatists have always failed to understand is that in order for the Law to function, there must be those whose actions lie outside the Law’s boundaries who apply coercive forces in order to safeguard the conditions under which the Law can flourish. This is the role of the Sahiradin. Without us, there would be no Law, only the strong against the weak, the many against the few.”
- Vaal Bur, Warden of the Citadel to Queen Souk, Law Keeper, Throne Taker.
“Tell me what you saw,” demanded Kurak.
Harken lowered his head in deference. Though still a bit disoriented from the communion which had brought them to this star system, he stood tall, chin up before Kurak’s seat on the bridge of Havoc. The Empress’ Warden and Master of Ships sat in the captain’s chair, a cup of cool, dark Veresch in his right hand. The Myr technologists never told him about the agony the additional implants would cause him. They sought to excuse themselves by saying it was his Sahiradin biology which was to blame, but Kurak was convinced they secretly enjoyed the fact that he suffered near constant pain. The Sahiradin battleship was quickly progressing toward the Grenn Primeworld of Dewalderkanosh, commonly referred to as Osh, where Kurak was
planning to impress upon the Grenn leadership the importance of cooperating with the Empress Khadiem and remaining neutral in the war against the separatists.
“I reached out with my mind and I sensed the cave, though it remains hidden from me,” said Harken. “Nevertheless, it is a gate. I’m sure of it, but it’s unlike any khâl.”
“How so?”
“When I commune and see a khâl, I always see other gates to which it can potentially be connected, like threads in a spider’s web. Not so with this gate; it just glows a bright white. You must allow me to go there physically, to shift to Earth and directly explore it.”
Kurak narrowed his pale blue eyes, now tinged red from the effects of Veresch. He leaned forward and indicated for Harken to draw near. “Do not test me, Harken,” hissed the Sahiradin. “If you dare shift to Earth, if you go there in both mind and body, I will immediately detonated the billions of little molecular bombs in your chest. Your heart and lungs will explode.”
He lightly tapped his tunic in which could be seen the outline of a small circular object.
“I wouldn’t dream of doing anything without your express consent,” said Harken with a smile. Of course, with Suvial’s aid, he’d partially shifted to Earth numerous times to assist Linsky carry out raids in his bid to overthrow the Separatist regime. “But I cannot satisfactorily answer your questions about the cave without actually going there.”
Kurak grunted then laughed lightly to himself. “The only way you’re going back to Earth is attached to a very tight Sahiradin leash.” He drank once more then closed his eyes and leaned back, a look of pleasure on his face as the potent liquid burned in his throat and chest. Looking once again at Harken, he scowled. “You promised me that this cave contained what you called a dimension door. A pathway to other places, even other universes. I have reported what you told me to the Empress, and she has plans to make use of it. If you have been deceiving me, Humani, your end will be extremely unpleasant.”
“I stand by what I said, but I never suggested I could access the door. I only said it existed. Even so, my contributions as a Navigator are still considerable. I’ve shifted space many times in support of her designs. Surely the Empress will continue to make use of my talents even after the Lycians have surrendered and Earth is a jewel in her crown.”
“Do not overestimate your value, old man,” said Kurak as he slowly turned the cup in his hand, studying it without really seeing it. “We made you into a Navigator. We can do the same with any Humani.”
Kurak glowered at Harken, who appeared to be unperturbed by the threat. The Sahiradin scoffed and reached into his tunic to retrieve the circular object. He displayed it in his open palm for Harken to see. The former Grand Guardian’s eyes followed the object as Kurak casually tossed it in the air and caught it, nearly pressing the button. Kurak laughed heartily upon seeing Harken wince in fear.
“You should be afraid, Harken. The moment the Empress or I wish to be rid of you, we will cause the molecular explosives lining your chest to detonate.” He tilted the device so Harken could see the glowing red activation key. “It does not matter where you are in the universe. Particles within the detonator and the explosives are entangled, so the moment this button goes down, you’ll be dead.”
“I am aware of the lethality of the transmitter in your hand,” said Harken, nervously eyeing the object which Kurak held so casually. “But my absconding with the Apollo Stone is as likely as a Lycian victory over the Empress. I desire nothing more than to see the Sahiradin crush the Separatists. I want nothing more than to be of service to Her Majesty in the new order that will follow.”
“You sicken me,” grumbled Kurak. “All Humani sicken me.”
He returned the transmitter to his pocket and stood up from his seat. Very slowly, he reached out with his left hand and wrapped his fingers around Harken’s throat. He started to squeeze, enjoying the look of terror filling Harken’s eyes. Kurak took a last gulp of Veresch with his right hand and placed the cup on the armrest of the captain’s seat. Then he tapped Harken’s chest hard with his index finger.
“Less than a second,” said Kurak, his words slightly slurred. “That’s how long it will take to kill you. It does not matter where you are. You could be anywhere in the galaxy, anywhere in the universe.”
Kurak tightened his grip around Harken’s throat and bared his fused white teeth, watching gleefully as Harken choked. He gloated as his captive squirmed, his body desperately seeking to bring in the oxygen it was being denied. Yet, the former Grand Guardian refused to resist. His arms hung loosely at his sides. His hands remained limp. Finally, Kurak released his grip and with a slight push, sent Harken stumbling backward. The Humani fell to the floor where he lay for a few moments, clutching his throat and gasping for air. Slowly, he got on his hands and knees then to his feet.
“Remember, Humani. You live for as long as you are useful, not a moment longer.”
Harken nodded his head in understanding but paused for a fraction of a second when he saw a geometric design on Kurak’s inner wrist glow a dark green.
Noticing the direction of Harken’s gaze, Kurak angrily pulled the sleeve of his tunic downward to hide the mark. He cast his eyes around the bridge to see if any of his officers had taken note. Fortunately, they were focused on their duties, knowing better than to gawk while the Empress’ favorite spoke in the repulsive Earth tongue to the Humani.
“Shall I return to my cell?” asked Harken, averting his eyes.
“No,” hissed Kurak, angered by what the Humani had seen. It was unlikely Harken would know the purpose of the geometric design, but Kurak knew the old vulture was devious and clever. He would file the information away in his mind for potential future use. Kurak silently resolved to kill the Navigator as soon as a suitable replacement could be acquired, preferably a pliable, terrified Humani who would tremble in Kurak’s presence and never dare to defy him. Harken was too accustomed to wielding power and no doubt bristled at playing the servile fool.
“I want you to come to the planet’s surface with me,” continued Kurak. “It will serve as an education on how the Sahiradin will rule when the final pockets of resistance have been snuffed out.”
“As you wish,” said Harken.
Kurak gave a series of instructions to a nearby warrior who took Harken by the arm then followed the Master of Ships down a series of passages until they came to a wide gravlev capable of moving many warriors between decks. They shot down to the battleship’s lowest level and boarded a gunship filled with warriors. A cohort of ten Karazan was also aboard. Kurak passed by the warriors and entered the forward cabin where he sat down. He indicated for Harken to be seated behind him. The craft soon lifted off and slipped through the force barrier that protected Havoc’s artificial environment from the cold vacuum of space. As the gunship darted toward the surface of the Osh, it was joined by a flight of V-shaped Codex fighter craft and four large troop transports, each one containing two thousand warriors.
As the gunship forced its way through Osh’s turbulent upper atmosphere, Harken shot a quick look at Kurak. He realized now that he would never win the trust of the Empress’ closest advisor. No matter. He had learned much from Suvial during their communions, including the fact that twelve other Kaiytávae existed, waiting for a Navigator to pluck them from the event horizon of Permidian, the ravenous black hole in the center of the galaxy. Suvial had been very interested in the existence of the cave and suggested that the dimension door within could be used to acquire the other Stones. But how to get the Kaiytávae without Kurak or the Empress instantly killing him? Ideally, he would strike when they were together, but that was nearly impossible. Attacking Khadiem in her lair was certain suicide, even for one possessing the Apollo Stone. She was a ferocious fighter, and her ever present Karazan would immediately leap to her defense. Harken would need to draw her out, but how? What could he use to induce her to leave the protection of her fortress? Suvial had pledged his support and reassured him th
at he could collect the other Aenor, but with the press of a button being the only thing between victory and death, Harken preferred to improve his odds before taking any action.
He looked once more at Kurak. Curiously, neither the newly installed Warden of the Citadel nor the Empress seemed to be aware of Suvial. They never enquired about him, and of course Harken had never mentioned the entity residing within the Apollo Stone’s mystical boundaries. It must have been a closely guarded secret among the Alamani Navigators for the Sahiradin to be oblivious to such critical information. Harken allowed himself a secret smile of satisfaction. They would learn about Suvial and the other Aenor soon enough.
While Harken silently schemed, the taskforce of Sahiradin ships passed through the lowest level of clouds floating just above a large building constructed of dark timbers and stone. A great courtyard bounded by other similarly constructed buildings stretched out before it.
“That is the Song Hall,” explained Kurak with a sneer as he looked down on the building. “It is where the idiot Grenn gather to sing songs and talk about trees and rocks.”
A number of Grenn standing in the Song Hall’s courtyard hurried for cover as the powerful gunship and one of the transports rapidly approached with its landing gear already extended. Engines increased their thrust, causing an enormous tree in the heart of the courtyard to violently sway to and fro, stripping it of many delicate orange-colored leaves and sending them sailing helter-skelter into the surrounding forest.
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