by C. C. Ekeke
“Because of the spacelane traffic from that big government event on Terra Sollus that your father had to attend, Jeremy. Your teachers don’t feel that it’s safe for us to travel and I completely agree.” While Lethe’s tone with the child was firm, he was also gentle, easy to listen to.
“Aww, rogguts.” The boy named Jeremy pouted with such boyish indignation that Tharydane giggled despite herself. He turned on her with that wide-eyed curious look again. “Hi,” he waved.
“Hello,” Tharydane grinned back.
“You have pretty hair.”
Tharydane blushed and turned away from his gaze, which was intense for a child. “Thank you.”
“Jeremy,” Lethe said. “Go back with your teachers. If the field trip is off, we’ll go home to Zeid.”
The child nodded. “Okay.” He looked again at Tharydane. “I’m Jeremy.” He held out a hand.
“Tharydane.” She returned his handshake.
“Bye, Thareydanny!” Jeremy then darted off to the group of kids and their chaperones. Tharydane looked after him. His innocence melted her heart. Even more than seeing Terra Sollus for the first time.
[Why are you gaping like a witless aaln?] Masra’s anger boomed in her mind. Tharydane stiffened.
“What is it?” Lethe asked urgently.
[He doesn’t matter. None of these disbelievers will matter after today. Come to me Tharyn. I’ll explain everything.] Masra’s voice called to her, compelling Tharydane to her feet.
“Tharydane.” Lethe’s voice was distant, but she turned to him. She saw worry on his innocent face.
“Lethe, I…I got to go. Thank you for everything.”
The long-necked sentient bowed slightly in obvious sadness. “Do what you must.”
With that Tharydane weaved her way through the crammed Commerce Station throng, like she used to when serving at Hugrask’s. Masra’s voice was her guide. [That’s it Tharyn, come to me.]
For a quarter of an orv, Tharydane had no clue where she was going. Her only guide was Masra’s voice. Because the holoimager made her out to be a teenage human girl, no one gave her a second glance. Finally, she reached a side entrance next to a still unfinished lavatory. Most sentients avoided the dank little corner. So Tharydane eased her petite self from the crowd and stood before the lavatory entrance.
[Go on,] Masra urged. [They haven’t even built standard sensors for this room yet.] But Tharydane hesitated. She had a way out with Mikas. And whatever Masra was planning couldn’t be legal.
[Union laws don’t apply to me Tharyn. And soon, they won’t even apply to this mindless herd.]
“Stop that NOW,” Tharydane glanced at the passing crowd.
[Then stop standing there like you’ve been flash frozen!]
“You said the same thing back on Bimnorii and I ended up seeing someone murdered in cold blood.”
[It’s not like that Tharyn. I’ll explain everything once you get up here. But you better hurry.]
That confused Tharydane. “What do you mean?” Fizzling noises near her arm caught the Korvenite’s attention. She raised her arm and gaped. Flashes of her real, milky complexion poked through her holographic pink human skin, like a flickering halolight. “Oh sweet Korvan, NO!”
A glance at her holoimager’s power meter showed it almost drained. None of the crowd noticed, but as more body parts were affected Tharydane knew it was only a matter of time before her façade failed. Why did she have to leave Mikas’ ship? Masra’s thoughts tickled at Tharydane’s mind.
[You have two choices Tharyn, well only one logical choice at this point. Come up here.] Her left arm was nearly visible now. Tharydane, so terrified she couldn’t think straight, looked up at the lavatory door and walked forward. It slid open obediently. Once the Korvenite stepped inside, the room began shimmering before her eyes. She felt a tugging sensation at her back.
Tharydane was being transmatted. Sparkling light faded into gunmetal-colored consoles. The breath was knocked out of her as she landed on her back. She rolled onto her stomach and glanced around.
The new surroundings loomed above her, the gunmetal consoles reached farther than light permitted, but what Tharydane could see glittered with various lights. Low humming from the lofty consoles added to the scene’s ominous mood. The floor she landed on was meshed grating and led to a round, closed exit. In a viewscreen she saw symbols she could not comprehend, but Tharydane also saw her own reflection.
The holo-facade was totally gone. Tharydane was a Korvenite again—milky white skin, the blacks of her eyes and their trademark golden irises completely exposed.
“[That was almost too close, huh?]” Tharydane jumped at the sound of spoken Korcei. She wheeled around and almost didn’t recognize her old friend. Masra stood barely a metrid away wearing a funky jumpsuit, looked noticeably leaner and her hair had grown out.
Tharydane opened her mouth, but Masra had already bounced forward and crushed her in a fierce hugs just like old times. “[Oh Tharyn, it’s been too, TOO long!]” She pulled back and took the still-stunned Tharydane by the face. “[Wow, you’re looking underfed.]”
She smiled and put an arm around Tharydane’s shoulder, leading her to the largest of the console towers. There seemed to be some holovid image setup in front of it. “[But that won’t be an issue anymore. So much has happened since we last spoke. It’s amazing. We’ll finally be able to live on Sollus and—.]”
“[Wait a macrom!]” Tharydane shook her head and pulled away from Masra. Everything was happening too fast. “[How did you even get here and what did you mean we get to live on Sollus again? You told me you’d explain things once I was here.]” Tharydane folded her arms. “[I’m here. So talk.]”
Masra silently stared back. For a quick moment, Tharydane thought she was angry at the request. Then Masra broke out into laughter, hysterical laughter that echoed up into the tower’s far reaches.
“[Well I did, didn’t I, Tharyn. Now as for how I got here. I took a ship with another Korvenite, shrouded of course. And thanks to a detailed layout of this Commerce Station, plus some perfect anti-security transmatting technology from the KIF, I easily transmatted into the unfinished restroom. From there I used my own short-range transmatter to get to this part of the Commerce Station.]”
Tharydane stared skeptically at Masra, “[And this part being?]”
“[The station’s shield generator room, armed with absolutely no Korvenite countermeasures.]” She looked back. “[Lower your defenses. Your mind is so tightened up a razorback couldn’t cut through.]”
That didn’t make Tharydane feel any safer. “[I’ll keep my mind protected if you don’t mind.]”
Masra shrugged. “[Suit yourself. You’ve always been paranoid. Now, as for this contraption here.]”
She led Tharydane over to the strange holovid projection resting in front of the tallest tower console. The display itself looked more like a TriVid planet with numerous, miniscule cubes floating all around it. One large disk near the planet’s surface had lines that connected it to the dots, as did an outlying dot further away from the holo-globe. Tharydane looked skeptically at her long-time friend.
“[This,]” Masra pointed at the holovid, “[is Maelstrom’s masterpiece, his definitive vision!]”
She was so over-the-top, Tharydane had to laugh. “[You mean Maelstrom’s subpar hologram?]”
Masra continued as if she hadn’t heard her. “[What you see here is our home, Sollus. All these dots around it are the planet’s shield generators. The big dot is the distraction that will buy us the time we need to enact the Anointed One’s plan. And the small dot, far from everything, is where we are. Once all these others dots connect, all I have to do is activate my part successfully and we will get our planet back.]”
A mounting dread seized Tharydane at those words. Just what had Masra stumbled into? “[How are you going to do that? I’m sure a couple billion sentients won’t want to just hand over their planet.]”
Again Masra laughed lo
udly, maniacally—insanely. She slapped Tharydane on the shoulder and kept laughing, to the point that the younger Korvenite began slowly backing away in alarm.
“[Oh Tharyn,]” She finally reined her craziness in. “[Such a worrier. Of course we won’t ask. Once I’m done, all of Terra Sollus’s usurpers will be dead. But while we wait,]” Masra clapped her hands excitedly. “[Tell me how you got here!]”
21.
Ten macroms later and the crowd had started to simmer down from the almost-fight between V’Korram and Senator Onthar-Khada. The Kintarian Senator told his side of the events to anyone who would listen. “I just tried to greet him. But he attacked me without provocation,” Onthar-Khada shrugged in contrived confusion. His gaggle of sycophants listened intently, shaking their heads in disgust. Liliana, Khrome and Tyris all looked rather discomfited under the unwanted attention. On the surface, Habraum Nwosu was epitome of calm, ignoring the nasty murmurs directed at the remaining Star Brigadiers.
On the inside, the Cerc was a volcano about to erupt, mentally reciting all the ways he planned on turning V’Korram’s face into a fist magnet. Forget getting anywhere near CT-1. The Kintarian would be lucky if he ever saw field mission time again. Add that to Marguliese’s presence now put under a picoscope, Honaa leaving active duty and him not being there for Jeremy’s field trip…
Sam, sensing her friend’s foul mood, didn’t defend V’Korram this time. “Save some of him for me when you’re done,” she muttered heatedly.
Habraum’s baleful look made her cringe. “Can’t promise that,” was all he offered. The Cerc was so cross he nearly missed the sonor-amped announcement from a Chouncilor’s aide. “The Kedri will be transmatting down within twenty macroms.”
The crowd response was immediate. “About goddamn time,” Sam said rather loudly. In the Andromeda Hall’s center, a TriTran image displayed the disk-shaped Amalgam entering Terra Sollus aerospace, three mammoth Imperium Star Navy warships hanging just beyond Terra Sollus’ defense array and a score or more of smaller Imperium vessels even further back.
The three massive ships looked miniscule next to the gigantic space station. They all sported the sleek, flat and jagged design typical of Kedri warships, including the bristling armament and markings. But the middle vessel was notably larger than the others—definitely Apocalypse-Class, and looked like no other Kedri ship Habraum had seen before.
Mesmerized by what they saw on the TriTran, murmurs of pure awe rippled through the crowd. “The Edge of the Imperium,” Tyris muttered, drawing stares from his teammates. “Only one in the Imperium Star Navy, and it belongs to the Kedri Sovereign.”
About 20 macroms after safely transmatting to the surface, the Imperium contingent entered Andromeda Hall, 17 of them varied in skin color, all six-foot-six or taller in height. The only non-Kedri, a rail-thin being covered in white fur with four bulbous orange eyes and a small hole for a mouth, trailed behind them all. The Kedri’s musculature appeared thick and chiseled under their spike-studded armor, a contrast to the brisk formality in their march. This delegation clearly represented the Kedri Warrior Caste only. Biros Nor strode near the front, expectedly, followed by a few Supreme Warmasters and one of the eight Warprimes that led the Imperium Military. Ahead of them were eight Kedri warriors in matte-colored, blood-red armor that looked near-impenetrable. As wondrous as they were, Habraum and everyone else only had eyes for the coal-black skinned Kedri in front.
“All hail Orok of House Kel, Sovereign of the Kedri Imperium, Lord Imperator of the Imperium Military, Scion of Kedria, Blood of the Old World, Paramount Warrior of the Realm,” the pipsqueak creature piped in a remarkably booming voice.
“Rogguts, that title,” Habraum grumbled softly, and caught Tyris rolling his eyes in agreement.
Sovereign Orok Kel towered over his subordinates in a glorious raiment of azure ribbed nanoclothe and gold metal armor. Kel’s thick, goldenrod hair spilled past his shoulders in lustrous waves, but did not hide the four curved kutaa on either cheek. His gaze wasn’t belligerent like most Kedri, yet the commanding way his pale green eyes raked over the crowd sent a chill up Habraum’s spine.
Everyone held their breath, as The Sovereign of the Kedri Imperium strode up the dais toward Chouncilor Bogosian. His entourage of warriors marched in single file along the foot of the podium and stood at attention.
“I expected a bigger group,” Khrome complained.
“Once the Trade Merger is finalized, then the Imperium will show off its power,” Tyris replied.
“Weren’t you part of that Tyris?” Liliana asked.
“Not that division in the Imperial Guard,” Tyris replied without further details.
Sam continued where he left off. “Ty was in the Order of Shkai, which allows Imperial Dependency races in their service,” she pointed to the eight red-armored warriors trailing the Sovereign. “Those are the Sulrur Hrakma, the Sovereign’s Shadows, his Loyal Guardians, and are exclusively Kedri.”
“Like the Honor Guard?” Khrome asked.
“Sorta, but way more,” Sam shrugged. “The Sulrur Hrakma are the Sovereign’s handpicked Imperial Guard, his closest friends and most trusted warriors. Once chosen, they’re forever bound with him; to fight in his stead, protect him with their lives. And if the Sovereign is killed in battle, they’ll survive long enough to avenge his death before joining him. The Sovereign, in turn, shares everything with them; weapons, warships, meals, even consorts and concubines.”
The Brigadiers all stared at her, especially Tyris. Even Habraum, aware of Sam’s exhaustive Kedri know-how, was wowed. “You know a lot about Kedri culture,” Liliana marveled.
Sam tilted her head and grinned wickedly. “I know lots about lots of things.”
Orok Kel drew himself up before Chouncilor Bogosian, standing over a head taller.
For a full macrom, two of the most powerful leaders in the known galaxy silently stared back at each other. Chouncilor Bogosian did the Kedri greeting; spreading his arms with open hands and smacking them together in closed fists before bowing deeply. Everyone watched and waited. Orok continued to stare down at Bogosian silently, imperiously. And finally he returned the salutation—bumping his closed fists and touching them against the Chouncilor’s.
Mild applause broke through the tense crowd. Orok then offered his hand like a human would in a greeting. Bogosian, visibly relieved, extended his own hand in a vigorous handshake. The Sovereign’s hand enveloped everything up to the Chouncilor’s wrist. The crowd erupted with unrestrained enthusiasm. The Kedri lined up in front of the podium at attention, looking on coolly.
The Sovereign turned to the crowd and held up both their hands, almost lifting Bogosian up in the air to the crowd’s amusement. At last, Orok Kel spoke.
“Let this commence a long kinship between the Galactic Union and the Kedri Imperium,” Kel’s deep, accented voice boomed across the Hall. “Think of this as the herald to a greater alliance between our two dominions.” The applause was mixed at best. Habraum clapped half-heartedly, V’Korram’s outburst still on his mind. The other Brigadiers followed suit.
Something in Star Brigade’s general area caught Orok’s eye. He bent down and muttered something to Bogosian, who smiled and nodded. Orok then stepped down from the dais and strode into the crowd. As the assemblage parted for him, the Sovereign did the Kedri greeting to some Senators, but continued forward. And then it struck Habraum exactly who he was approaching.
Orok Kel stopped in front of the Cerc with an imperious stare. Habraum met the Sovereign’s glower unflinchingly, but his insides had all but liquefied. From the corner of his vision he spied the other Brigadiers awkwardly backing away. Great backup, guys.
Everyone, including the IPNN and GBC TriVid cameras, focused on both him and the Sovereign. Finally, unable to take this scrutinizing glare, Habraum broke the silence. “Sovereign Kel. It’s an honor.” He started to bow in Kedri greeting.
“No, Habraum Nwosu,” the powerfully built Kedri raised a
hand. “I am the honored one.” Orok slammed both fists together and bowed deeper than he had for even the Chouncilor. Habraum could have sworn someone just kicked him right in the stomach. “I have long wanted to meet the one who risked his life for the Imperium’s Heir,” the Sovereign smiled amiably, his kutaa quivering.
Habraum stood clueless, only for an instant. “Dagra?” The memories came back quickly. The reckless Kedri pilot he’d rescued years ago during the Ferronos Sector War. “Dagra’s your son?”
The Sovereign nodded and a lock of goldenrod hair tumbled down his shoulder. “My eldest. And he has never forgotten what you did. It has made him a better warrior and a true heir to the Imperium. He’d be here now, but is handling a dispute between the Warrior and Devout Castes.”
Habraum realized his mouth was hanging open and promptly shut it. The other Brigadiers looked on in disbelief.
“The House of Kel and the Imperium are forever in your debt!” Orok slapped Habraum hard on the shoulder, almost knocking him off his feet. He regarded Tyris curiously for a moment, muttering, “A N’Choura?” before striding back to the dais toward Bogosian. “Chouncilor, let us finalize this Trade Merger and begin the Amalgam’s demonstration.”
“Ow,” Habraum mouthed as he gingerly rubbed his shoulder. “Enthusiastic, those Kedri.”
Many in the crowd stared at Habraum in awe. The TriVid cameras lingered a while, before zooming back to Bogosian and the Sovereign, who had started the official signing of the trade merger.
“HA!” Khrome jabbed a thick finger at Habraum. “You reek of AWESOMENESS sir!”
“Wow,” Liliana beamed at him.
“The Kedri Sovereign is indebted to you,” Sam grabbed his arm. “How did you do that??”
“Well—Uh,” Habraum felt his face burning under all the unwanted attention. It was post-Ferronos Sector War all over again, a time he both loved and loathed. “Stop ogling! This isn’t a big deal!”
“But it is,” Sam gushed teasingly. “You know, flyboy. I’ve been aching to visit Kedria again. Can you ask your new best buddy Orok about an official tour—?”