“Mines,” his assassin growled. He gestured for her to continue. “We have more weapons than we have ships to use them. Convert the torpedoes into mines. Cover them with as much anti-sensor material as possible in the time we have, then deploy them at weak points or bottlenecks. They can be autonomous or controlled.”
Kraada regarded her with a smile, then regarded Maalis. “Your thoughts?”
“I believe that’s an excellent idea, Your Grace. With your permission, we’ll make it happen immediately.”
“Granted,” he replied. The high commander gestured at a nearby technician, and she left the room at a run.
Kraada shifted his attention to his seneschal. “And your ideas?”
The man stood with a dour expression on his face as he considered. “I feel that the military side of the plan is adequate, Emperor. I have a question about the endgame. Will we permit these humans an honorable exit to become a vassal race as so many have before?”
Kraada rounded fully on him as fury swept through his chest and lit a flame in his skull. He opened his mouth to inflict a vicious retort but froze in place. He was granted a vision in that moment, a vision of his subordinate’s steadfast loyalty, and realized the question must have come from worry about their own sailors, not for the hated trespassers. Cool relief spilled over him and extinguished the lava. He extended his arm and rested a hand on the man’s shoulder. To his credit, he stiffened but didn’t flinch before the regard of his emperor.
“I understand why you ask this question, Chanii. Your concern for the lives of our sailors is beyond commendable. However, we can afford to give no quarter to our enemy, lest we fail to achieve the gods’ will.” He raised his voice so all in the room would hear it. “We must keep foremost in our thoughts the fact that the destruction of these humans is our path to paradise. They are to be eradicated to the last ship, and then we shall go forth and remove their colonies, their bases, and their home planet from existence. Only then can we be assured that our ancestors, and all the Xroeshyn people for all times to come, will enter paradise once they’ve left this mortal realm.” He clapped his seneschal on the shoulder once more, then turned back to Maalis, who was standing at parade rest.
“What of our final present for the humans?”
Maalis called up a new display, and two more of the planet’s defenders were outlined. “All is ready for that option, Your Grace.” Kraada smiled. His fallback gambit against the enemy, should it become necessary, would wipe them from the board in a single grand stroke.
He heard a rustle and a choking sound and snapped his head to the right. Chanii was looking away from him, coughing into a sleeve. From the other side, his assassin hissed a triumphant, “Yes.”
Kraada offered a small bow to his high commander. She returned a much deeper one, the scales on her skin shifting to a cerulean shade as her leader’s approval washed through her. He turned and strode from the center, and they again navigated the checkpoints to the tunnel. Once there, he said, “Are you well, Chanii?”
His peripheral vision caught his seneschal’s nod. “I apologize for the inelegance of the moment, Emperor. I merely sought an excuse to make eye contact with our informant.”
“And?”
“He verified that all the high commander’s statements were true.”
A grin stretched across his face, releasing tensely held muscles. “Excellent, excellent. Now all that remains for us is to return to the palace and relax while we wait for the trespassers to arrive, so they may die to please our gods.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Fleet Captain Indraat Vray was greeted with suspicion when she arrived at the doors of the palace. The guards seemed on edge, twitchy, and performed their duties with an overabundance of caution. She was forced to surrender both pistols and all of her blades save the ones built into the toe of one boot and the heel of the other. The guards’ search lingered over those spots, but eventually concluded the thickness was just a feature of her boots.
Fools, she thought.
She was marched through a series of public spaces with an honor escort of eight soldiers surrounding her. She shook her head in amusement. As she moved through the space, her enjoyment turned to something darker. Every servant, every bureaucrat, every non-guard they passed displayed a palpable aura of fear expressed in their too-quick movements and furtive glances around them.
This atmosphere of perceived danger would be entirely detrimental to their ability to complete their tasks. Her frown turned into a scowl as they arrived at the grand staircase and found it barricaded, preventing admittance to the living chambers above. Indraat was required to pass through two more checkpoints before arriving at a small lift, not even big enough for her entire escort. She rode it up several levels, sandwiched between bulky guard-flesh, and finally, emerged into a sumptuous luxury that was the diametric opposite of the public spaces below. The hallway was softly lit with golden illumination welling from recessed features above. Ornate paintings hung on the walls, and she tarried to examine them. The canvases were centuries-old renditions of key moments in the rise of the church. The guards led her along the plush carpeting to a pair of doors, where security protocols demanded another inspection.
“Please remove your boots,” the senior guard demanded. With a nod that gave away nothing, Indraat complied. Only then did they open the door and admit her into the working space adjoining the emperor’s quarters.
The emperor’s seneschal, whose name she couldn’t remember, escorted her to a chair. “The emperor will be with you in a moment, Fleet-Captain.”
“Thank you.”
“May I offer you something?”
“Tisane if you have it,” she shrugged.
“We’re aware of your favorite variety, Fleet-Captain. It’s already being prepared and should arrive momentarily.”
He bowed and retreated from the space. The room was even more sumptuous than the hall. The religious paintings inside were masterworks and were complemented by sculptures both small and large. In one corner, conspicuous in its simplicity, was a roughhewn altar to Lelana. Indraat knew from previous conversations with her uncle that it was his personal one from his first church appointment. It was incongruous for this room to be so perfectly outfitted in the middle of a war. The feelings of peace and prosperity that abandoned those on the front lines appeared to have collected here.
Perhaps that was as the gods intended it to be. It seemed an ill reward for the warriors, however.
A small door set seamlessly into the wall at the far side of the space swung open, and the emperor strode in, followed by the dark-robed figure of his personal protector. Indraat’s eyes narrowed. There was an energy that accompanied the woman—a blend of violence and focused madness—that put her teeth on edge. She pushed down the sensation and rose to greet her uncle, dropping to one knee before him. “Emperor, thank you for seeing me.”
Kraada Tak rested a hand on her head for a moment, murmuring some words she couldn’t hear. He lifted his hand and said, “Rise, Fleet-Captain, and let us speak of the progress of the war against the trespassers.”
He gestured for her to return to her chair while he took a seat across from her. The emperor’s assassin faded into a corner to provide the illusion of privacy. Servants bustled in and left behind cups of steaming tisane and a plate of sweets. Indraat took the first but declined the candies. The emperor chose several and leaned back.
“How fares the Ruby Rain, Niece?”
“Excellently, Uncle. It’s resupplied and rearmed. We’ve been given several sets of advanced munitions. My engineer believes he’s found a way to increase shield efficiency as well.”
“It’s certainly the right time for it,” Kraada said. “Tell me about your attacks against the human colonies.”
The corners of her mouth turned down slightly before she caught it and covered it behind a distracting sip of her scalding drink. She’d reported each encounter to the emperor in a personal communication. It was strange
that he’d ask for the information again. “Each of our assaults was an unqualified success, Uncle. In the last three, we were forced to flee from the humans’ attack force, but not until we’d accomplished our objectives. We eliminated several ships of their response force with no losses of our own.”
“Very good, very good,” he said. “As you’re no doubt aware, the humans reacted unexpectedly to our colony assaults. Thus, we’ve had to refocus our efforts upon the defense of the home system. It’s unfortunate. It was an excellent plan.”
Indraat failed to muster a response to his rambling statement. He didn’t seem to mind.
“Anyway, it’s good you’re here. We have in place several traps for the enemy as they arrive, and as Fleet-Captain, it’s important that you know of them.” He looked confused for a moment, then yelled, “Chanii!”
The seneschal rushed into the room and set a portable holo-display between them. He manipulated the device to project an image of the asteroid field and adjusted it to provide visuals to illustrate the emperor’s words.
“First, we’ll control their breakthrough at the asteroid field. Our commanders are in agreement that they’ll need to arrive beyond it or risk gravitic interference with their transport. Once there, they’ll choose to punch through at this weakened point,” he gestured at the display, “or they’ll sense the trap and attempt to penetrate elsewhere.”
Kraada leaned back and took another bite of the sweets on his plate. “I almost hope they do. If they make that choice, our forces shall sweep in behind them and crush them against the asteroid field. A fitting end, don’t you agree?”
“Yes, Emperor,” she said, the words flat and inoffensive.
“Should they penetrate the inner system, we have reinforcements hiding that’ll ride a wave to appear behind where we believe the enemy will deploy. They’ll be smashed between our ships.” On the display, that scenario played out, with tiny representations of ships darting to and fro, with those marked as destroyed vanishing in an incandescent smear. Her experienced eye noted several flaws the strategists seemed to be overlooking, but she determined this wasn’t the place to share that particular observation.
“If this doesn’t finish the humans, we’ll use our sacrifice ships. I had ordered a cascade of explosions, but my commanders say that’s impossible given the resources at hand.” His voice turned sharp and ugly, startling her. She fought to suppress a shudder at the personal menace in his tone.
“Nonetheless, we’ll drive them together in bunches and detonate a sacrifice ship in the middle of them.” On the display, unexpectedly large vessels were designated as sacrifices.
“We’re losing a great deal to make that work, are we not, Emperor?”
Kraada waved his hand in the air. “Negligible. A skeleton bridge crew of volunteers on each ship in case our automated systems go down, but otherwise the only lives we’ll lose on our side are those too inept to clear the path when the moment comes.”
“An excellent plan, Uncle.”
“The best news, Niece, is that we have two floating fortresses in play.” He reached down and eagerly moved the cups of tisane into position to represent the battle stations. The seneschal quickly adjusted the holo-projector to make the delicate tableware work as part of the display. “They’ve barely been able to handle one. With two available to protect us, the humans don’t have a chance.” He sat back with a smug look and crossed his arms. “And that’s before we consider the defensive installations on the planet. Within hours of their arrival, the trespassers’ fleet will be smashed, and we’ll be free to send our ships out to eradicate the stain of humanity from the universe.”
In one motion, he stood and threw his dish aside to smash into a nearby cabinet. His wings unfurled as he walked to accompany the sweeping gestures of his arms. He tottered slightly as he moved. In another being, she would’ve attributed it to alcohol or other intoxicants, but she knew her uncle would never indulge a vice so strongly.
“Everything relies upon faithfulness, Indraat. If our people, and our sailors, and our soldiers, and our captains are faithful, we cannot fail. We will deliver our ancestors from the in-between into paradise. My name—our names—will go down in history as the promised deliverers of the Xroeshyn.” He folded his wings inward and shocked her by crossing the distance between them in an instant and kneeling beside her chair.
His eyes locked onto hers, and she saw frenzied, unbridled passion blazing within. “And I, Niece, the appointed avatar of the gods in the mortal realm, shall join them when I depart. Instead of only eight, there will be nine, and lives of the Xroeshyn will never be the same again,” he finished speaking in a conspiratorial whisper.
Indraat gulped and suppressed a stammer as she said, “So may it be, Uncle. Hierarch. Emperor.”
He stood again and replied, “So may it be,” his rising volume echoing in the high ceilings of the room. He strode towards the door to his chambers, and his assassin flowed into place beside him. “Faithfulness is the key, Niece,” he said without turning around. “Remember your pledge.”
“Yes, Emperor,” she replied as enthusiastically as she could manage. She felt the weight of the assassin’s gaze on her and pictured a sneer on the hidden mouth.
Her uncle and his shadow departed, and then the door slammed behind them.
Indraat reached a trembling hand to her cup and finished her tisane. The scorching bitterness burned away the fears of the moment. The seneschal returned and escorted her from the room. He oversaw her reclamation of her boots and took her down through the lift. It stopped a level higher than she expected. “The emperor wishes for me to show you something before you leave, Fleet-Captain. Please come this way.” They walked through back passages and empty spaces. He explained that after traitors were discovered in the palace, the private areas were emptied and locked away from passage. Only a select few could now access them.
Finally, they entered the armory. She’d heard tales of it but had never seen it. The walls were adorned with beautiful flowing shapes and designs made entirely of mounted weapons. She circled the room and marveled at the craftsmanship. Blades that were centuries-old still maintained their edge. Suits of armor stood on racks, from the oldest animal hides to the ritual battledress of the Enjaaran line of Emperors. Finally, the seneschal took her to a tall cabinet and gestured for her to open it.
She pulled the paired doors apart to reveal eight blades. She recognized them immediately as the Insaanti set, forged at the start of the war with the Domeki and gifted to the commander in charge of the fleet. It comprised two long swords, two short swords, two daggers with ornate guards to capture an opponent’s weapon, and two knives designed to be hidden on the body. Each of the eight was inscribed with a word that corresponded to one of the gods.
The long swords were named Wisdom and Destroyer, in honor of the Father and Mother of the Gods. The shorter swords, designed for those who preferred a closer battle or those who wished to pair long and short blades together, were Peace and War, dedicated to the twins Ibrena and Evran. The daggers were Constant and Change and represented Gelois the God of Craft and Trade and Lelana. Finally, the hidden knives were Love and Memory. The modern symbols of Trensun and Udagi adorned them.
“These are all gifted to you in honor of your service, Fleet-Captain. Obviously, you cannot carry them all from the palace today. Please choose the ones you’ll take with you into battle. The rest shall await you here.”
Indraat stared at him. “You say this is at the behest of the emperor?” She sensed a trap.
He didn’t reply, only gestured her toward the weapons. Something told her that this moment was a test, but from whom and for what reason she couldn’t hazard a guess.
Indraat closed her eyes and stilled her mind. The meditative state she used when considering the words and wants of the gods was the work of a minute to summon. She raised her left arm, the one closest to her heart, and traced an arc in front of her, her extended fingers pointing at each blade in turn a
s she sought any indication, any hint of the gods’ will, to inform her choice.
Her eyes snapped open to find she was pointing at a long blade. She first saw the one labeled “Destroyer.” But that wasn’t the one to which her fingers stretched. She closed her hand around the grip of the other and held it up, turning it so the engraved words caught the light. The blade’s name was Wisdom, the hallmark of the High Father. Certainty washed through her. She handed it to the seneschal and removed her back sheath, discarding it in favor of the double version that was part of the set. She accepted the return of her new sword and slid it smoothly into its home.
Indraat chose four more blades without hesitation. Into the sheath on her back she stowed the short sword, Ibrena’s Peace. She donned a waist sheath for the dagger of her choice, Change. Finally, she took both hideaway blades. Once the knives were secured in their camouflaged wrist sheathes, she felt a sense of completion, of rightness, of finality. She turned to the seneschal and noticed his ramrod posture had relaxed and a look of burgeoning hope had replaced the grimace of dismay and fear he’d worn before. He held up a small rectangular device and activated it.
“Fleet-Captain, this will allow us only seconds of privacy before someone comes to investigate the malfunction in the armory’s cameras and microphones.” He gestured up at the corner where a tiny dark spot stood out against the polished wood. “I must tell you about the battle to come. The emperor has planned something terrible….”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The last time Cross had been in the cavernous space, he’d found the atmosphere dark and dour. They’d been faced with the question of how to respond to the aliens’ attack on the colonies, a literal existential crisis. Then he’d imagined things couldn’t feel more serious.
He’d been wrong.
This time the ship captains assembled numbered fewer than before. The admirals maintained the same level of representation. Floating cameras at multiple locations were trained on the assembly, ready to send the discussion and decisions out to those ships still mopping up alien incursions on their territory.
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