A Bellicose Dance

by Patrick M J Lozon

  He felt a pang of guilt. “Hey, don’t worry about it then, really. This isn’t that important. How is your work coming along?”

  “I am getting close. The restoration teams are working non-stop.”

  “And then you will get some rest?” He placed his hand on her cheek.

  “Soon, I promise.”

  “You know, I was just thinking about our conversations about religion – and their effect on social structures. How about we turn this room into a church? We must have some priests or preachers or whatever you call them on this ship. Open denomination. What do you think?”

  She laughed. “Well, I’m sure some of the crew will thank you for it. I need to return…”

  “Yeah, I know, but I think we have a lot of scared people aboard – and I don’t mean just humans.”

  “Maybe you’re right. You know, I’m impressed.”

  “Why?”

  She moved in close. “Just the way you think. Like a true leader.”

  “Let’s get together tonight. Let’s drop these double shifts.”

  “I won’t if you won’t,” she said teasingly.

  “Then it’s a deal.”

  “But it’s OK to spend a little more time on this. I think you’re on the right track here. It wouldn’t hurt.”

  That was enough to convince Ryan to find a minister who was willing to take on the challenge. It would be hard work as the minister needed to learn the religions of all the races and keep his own prejudices in check. But he was sure he found the right person for the job: Ashanti of Tawma – a Showmish that had a way about him, a talent to set one at ease.

  "I want you to meet the needs of our people. We have so many here of a varying degree of beliefs. I'm not asking you to forfeit your own religion, mind you, only open your house to all, and provide a church that teaches and encourages the essence of most religions."

  "Commander, you may not understand what you are asking of me. There are many belief systems represented on this ship, a few of which may actually contradict one another.”

  “I know, personally, that the Showmish are a very understanding and open people. I am just asking you to promote tolerance and understanding, provide some strength to the ones who need it, maybe some guidance on morality. This should not be such a stretch.”

  “Morality? Values are not the same across races, Commander. For example, there are certain cultures that promote lying as a highly esteemed skill, others killing is a rite of passage.”

  “Oh. Well, that won’t do. Perhaps the best religion is the law that I set aboard, then.”

  “Perhaps, but I may be able to find some parallelisms here.”

  “Great!” smiled Ryan. “That’s why I’ve asked you to do this. Study the crew and draw your own conclusions. I just need you to give them what they need."

  "And birth an inter-racial religion, Commander? Stray from the individual truths that we have all learned as children?"

  "Truths learned or programmed? What the truth is has been twisted into so many different perspectives, it is unrecognizable. All that extra baggage of history and individual prejudice - that is not what religion is about, is it? No, that's just what it has become.”

  The old Showmish waved his snout. “Truly, this is a compelling problem.”

  “Yes, very challenging. I’m sure it will be very difficult to teach such concepts, considering the past that each member of this crew has endured. Such a cause would demand a strong leader."

  "Ah. Your attempts of persuasion are all too evident, Commander. However, the answer is yes. I will accept this role, for all the children if not for any other reason. Hashimah works in mysterious ways."

  "Or God, or as the Brogs say, Awg," added Ryan with a smile. “Welcome aboard to the Intra-racial, multi-denominational Church of the Alliance, Ashanti.” They sealed the agreement with a handshake.

  Attendance was surprisingly high on the first day the chapel opened its doors. The Church of the Alliance spanned as many religions as possible. Ashanti did his best to integrate everyone. Human, Signite, Showmish, Narkasite, Nubok, Krelp, and even Brog volunteers had stepped forth to help ‘administer’ the applicable procedures. Its popularity revealed certain truths. Many drew strength from their religious beliefs. Faith had kept them alive through incredibly difficult circumstances. If that is what his crew needed to have the courage to fight this war, then that is what they would receive.

  And so, the Freedom was becoming not only a functioning warship and strategic mobile base but a true integration center of multiple races – a unique example of what the future could bring.

  * * *

  The Galactic Alliance’s arrival at Grak resulted in a further strengthening of ships and resources. The Brog presence within the fleet tripled. It took some time for the others to adjust to the change. Brogs were intimidating, even frightening to many, but they were part of the Alliance and because of that, were accepted. Through all of this, they grew in strength together, for they had moved past the fear and distrust of one another and shared a common purpose – a common enemy. For many, the massive starship called the Galactic Alliance fleet became a new and wondrous home, built on diversity and collaboration.

  Regardless of this, no one was foolish enough to consider themselves safe, for they all lived under the dark gauntlet of war. There were many battles yet to be fought.

  The fleet then turned toward the Xeronian colony. It was here they would conclude their final preparations for war.

  As the Galactic Alliance grew in strength, the civil war of Xilo raged on. The balance of power remained on the side of the Zigot League, though barely. The loss of their fleet at Gairf carried with it devastating effects. Zorlog's Purists had established critical footholds in the outer systems and were now initiating a slow and bloody progression toward Xilo.

  The news of the defeated fleet was never conveyed. The Emperor had decided it would damage their cause. An official, sanctioned version was leaked out, very different from the truth. The fleet had succumbed to a freak accident and strayed too close to a supernova. All lives lost.

  And so, contrary to the Alliance’s expectations, no reprisal was attempted. The Signite base remained operational, acting as a key relay for the Galactic Alliance's intelligence network. This, in turn, provided them with much needed time.

  The Galactic Alliance fleet’s arrival at the Xeronian colony was a welcomed event. The small colony was saturated, its infrastructure overloaded. Close quarters had tested the patience of many and raised the tension of its inhabitants to a critical situation. Even the habitually emotionless Xeronians demonstrated a sigh of relief on their arrival.

  Ryan and Aviore took the Dancing Queen down to the planet.

  Traffic was heavy, as the port was incredibly busy with taxis shuttling to and from the Freedom. Tsaurau was there to greet them, his face gray with fatigue.

  "We finally made it back, Tsaurau!" Ryan announced to his old friend with a wide smile.

  "I was becoming concerned that we would be stuck indefinitely with our new allies."

  "No need to worry now. We've room for everyone, bring'em all on board."

  "I reviewed your last report about the engagement with the Zigot League fleet. It was a very close battle."

  "Yeah, too close," agreed Ryan soberly.

  Aviore commanded their attention with a clearing of her throat. "Tsaurau, I am in charge of the hydroponics system, and I need some help developing a proper vegetation base. Could you direct me to whoever is in charge of your hydroponics and park areas?"

  "Certainly, I am responsible for the areas you mentioned, although I do not do the maintenance work. I will contact my friend Targoff, he is Chief-of-Agriculture. I am sure he can help you."

  "Targoff." Ryan chuckled. "Now he is a character. You either like him or you hate him."

  "I hope that you like him," interjected Tsaurau.

  "I am sure I will, Tsaurau,” Aviore affirmed. “Don’t you mind this big bully. If you ca
n just point me in the right direction?"

  "I believe he is in the park on the first level, the one we call Gemoodow. If he is not there when you arrive, you can request his location over the Par."

  Aviore gave Ryan a peck on the cheek and left, knowing that the two friends preferred to be left alone.

  “Bully?” he asked incredulously.

  She answered with only a wave goodbye.

  “You think I’m a bully, Tsaurau?”

  “I do not perceive you to express such behaviors, Ryan.”

  "Regardless. Tsaurau, we're a mess. The last engagement proved to me that if we met up with the Empire tomorrow, we'd be cut to ribbons."

  "You were victorious, were you not?"

  "Yes, but before our convoy arrived at Gairf base, we had already lost a quarter of the ships. Our captains need to learn how to think in three dimensions and develop responsive strategies. I’ve been attempting to lead some training on this, but I don’t have the patience."

  They turned and walked towards the bay exit. Tsaurau did not reply immediately, preferring to contemplate the situation for a time.

  "The Xi-Empire has reigned over a thousand years. They have been fighting wars for most of that time. It does not surprise me that their captains have superior skills."

  "Superior or not, I've seen them make foolish mistakes. I’m sure that won’t continue. I'm sure the caliber of our enemy will increase as we approach Xilo. We need to be able to out-think them, out-manoeuver them, out-shoot them. Maybe what we need to do is send my captains on a crash course with Taldig. Do you think he would be willing?"

  "He would be more than willing. He enjoys teaching. It is very rare that another Xeronian expresses any interest in Taldig's specialized knowledge. Such research is an unpopular study for most of our people. I'm sure he would be honored to take on such a request. He has expressed interest about boarding the ship you now call the Freedom. He has a number of his own interests to pursue."

  "Oh, and what would that be?"

  "He is an avid study of the Ancient Ones, much like you."

  "Really? Then I do have some interesting things of note." He quickly described the icon in the chapel to Tsaurau. The Xeronian was impressed.

  "Taldig will bring with him some knowledge. It may provide you with new clues."

  "Why so much secrecy?"

  "I am not privileged to access this knowledge. Taldig is an apprenticing Elder. He has been taught many things. The average Xeronian is not required to carry such burdens."

  "You're avoiding the question."

  "Are you sure?"

  Ryan thought about it for a moment. He had never known Tsaurau to be purposefully deceitful. Maybe he really didn't know.

  "OK, Tsaurau, I'll let this little mystery drop for now. That reminds me - I had a strange experience some time ago. It was disturbing..."

  "Tell me about this experience."

  "Not here. Are my old quarters still in existence?"

  "Yes, certainly. But the area has been in use by a number of humans since. However, I do believe your quarters have now been emptied since your arrival."

  "Good. Let's go there. I can scrounge up a nice stiff drink before I tell you about it. I believe it is important."

  "Very well, Ryan, though I don't believe I personally could consume another glass of brandy."

  They found the apartment in disarray, but intact. The previous tenants had already been relocated on board the Freedom. Ryan stoked up the artificial fire, adjusting it to throw off just the right amount of heat. He stared into the coals. Red and glowing, with dark edges, they pulsed with life. It brought back mental pictures. Ryan shuddered and abandoned the fire to focus on the task of pouring them both a drink. Tsaurau would need one, despite his earlier resistance.

  "I do not wish to..."

  "You will." Ryan forced the glass into his hand.

  Tsaurau was perceptive enough the sense something was not quite right. "Very well."

  "I've been meditating. Something I have learned from the old Showmish women - the Sisters-of-Soom."

  "Ah yes, Tseman spoke of them. It is said they are as wise as the Elders."

  "I guess. They are good teachers. My ah... abilities are improving. I've seen things I can't explain." Ryan paused. Should he ask Tsaurau? Would this just bring up bad memories for him? Just what was it he needed to know? Confirmation or translation?

  "Please, continue," urged Tsaurau.

  "Sit down old friend. Please.”

  “Let me explain my experience. I traveled to a world that was much like Earth. I was an observer. It felt like it was… well, I don’t think it was in the future or the present.”

  “Then an image from the past,” Tsaurau added, nodding his head slowly.

  “Yes. I think so. Felt like it was a long time ago. As I said, I was watching this scene play out. This beautiful world was being attacked by ships that seemed quite familiar in design.”

  “Xi-Empire ships?”

  “They were, and when they attacked, they failed time and again. They could not penetrate the shield that surrounded this planet. Sound familiar?”

  Tsaurau’s veins in his temples seemed extended, his eyes a little tighter, an Xeronian expression of emotion, mostly akin to sadness. “Yes, I do know of this story.”

  “I watched as a ship approached, saw it launch a weapon. Unlike its predecessors, this device managed to penetrate through the shield. Its effect was horrendous, literally turning the planet into a sun. Tsaurau, I am sure I witnessed the death of Xeronia. I saw your world die."

  "Your words describe the past accurately enough." He looked away, round black eyes squinted into tight ovals. "Forgive me. The talk of such matters disturbs me..."

  Ryan took a large gulp of brandy. It burned on the way down. A burn, like the way the electrified whips felt on his back. Like the pulsating coals in the fire...

  "Ryan, are you asking me why you had this vision?"

  "I don't get the connection. Why bring me back there? What was the purpose? I'm beginning to think it was just my own mind playing tricks on me."

  Tsaurau looked up. "Tricks? There are no tricks. You have a gift. That is why you were chosen." He paused for a moment. "Perhaps you are looking too hard for the hidden meaning when it is not hidden at all."

  "What do you mean?"

  "What details do you remember?”

  “Well, there was something else. The Xi-fleet did not get away with their crime. I think, for some reason, your sun went supernova.”

  “Yes, it is true. It was intentional.”

  “You have a weapon that can do this? You understand this could be a way to take down the Xi-Empire?"

  "You would use this to drive them back, to their home?"

  "Yes," said Ryan quietly, "something not so easily done. We will be moving into Xilo-owned space as soon as the crews and ships are ready. The odds are not in our favor. It'll be seven hundred ships against forty thousand."

  "The enemy numbers have grown," commented Tsaurau.

  "No. Our intelligence has become more accurate," corrected Ryan.

  "It will not be numbers that will win this war."

  "Then what will?"

  "I don't know. But I do know this - a few of our people have offered to join your crew. The past events have deeply disturbed and split our society. There are those who are willing to fight."

  "Fight? Xeronians!" Ryan couldn't contain himself. The thoughts of seeing a frail Xeronian in hand to hand combat with a Xilozak was laughable.

  Tsaurau’s expression was placid and cold. He was not liking Ryan’s reaction.

  "Forgive me. It just seems like everyone wants to jump on this downbound train. And what, my friend, do you think of this?"

  "I support all of my people. I accept their decisions."

  "Your volunteers would be gratefully appreciated. They can join the crews, but I can ensure you they will not be assigned a weapon or expected to participate in combat unless they specifical
ly request to do so. If that is acceptable, we can certainly make room for them."

  Tsaurau gave a look of satisfaction. "Those terms would be consoling to a Xeronian mother."

  "Tell me about this supernova bomb. Do you still know how to build it?”

  “To use such a weapon, it is unconscionable. We were wrong to launch it.”

  “What do you mean? They destroyed your home and you are telling me they didn’t deserve to be wiped out themselves?”

  “It was not a fitting legacy that Xeronians wished to leave.”

  “Maybe so. But you know our odds.”

  “I will construct the weapon myself... but I ask you, Ryan. Who would be strong enough to bear the blood of millions on their hands?"

  Ryan looked into the fire. The coals had now faded to black, only cooling embers remained. “If it meant destroying them, then I would.”

  “A weight that could crush your very soul. But I will guarantee that you will not bear that weight alone, my friend."

  * * *

  16. Xilo

  Z orlog had a commanding view of the planet below through the quartz panels from the bridge of the cruiser Kirbetz. The last campaign had been very successful. He now commanded two-thirds of Xi-Empire space, and a very important planet to the League: G00015-A. It was a dull, dirty planet, not much to please the eye, but a military gold mine, and in some ways very similar to Xilo. He chuckled to himself as he thought of his last visit here, many zanii ago, rebel slaves had done considerable damage. Where were they now? They most likely retreated to their ravaged home worlds, like thrickets on dung. He will enjoy tracking them down, killing off the defiant ones. It will feel good to tear the limbs off their leader one by one, to kill that pitiful creature slowly.

  "My Karvok."

  It was Gulin, his most trusted Charvok, and as such, one of the most envied. The spoils of victory ran thick around them. Charvoks would always have a claim on the most valuable, although the biggest prize has yet to be won. Zorlog had a plan, and it was the plan of plans. In the end, it would be the Txtians that would be bowing to him, and the Zigot scourge would be cleansed from Xilo.