TIME COMMANDER
Part Three of the First Admiral Series
Copyright © 2012 by William J. Benning
Edited by Ivan Ciano
Cover Copyright © 2012 by Andrae Harrison
ISBN-13: 978-1623750480
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First Edition
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Chapter 1: The Time Warrior Arena - Chronos - A Moon of Ganthus
“That should not have happened!” said the Grand Adjudicator.
Almost absent-mindedly, he ran the fingers of his four digit hands through his greying jet-black hair as he stared uncomprehendingly out of the arena-side window at the three hundred foot high Vide-Orb image.
Like most adult Ganthorans, Grand Adjudicator Bellor was tall. He stood at over six and a half feet, yet despite his tall stature, he had a feline grace and ease of movement that gave him a tremendous personal presence. His fine, pale-brown skin stretched tautly over a long elegant face, whilst triangular, short and pointed cat-like ears perched neatly on the top of his head. Around his ears a silky, fine black hair, which was tending to grey, hung loose and stretched down to his shoulders. His eyes were a deep dark-brown sitting over a cat-like muzzle and lower jaw. His nose, though small, was the same light-brown in colour and blended smoothly into the muzzle. His neck was long and elegant which again stood to emphasise his almost regal bearing.
And, he was angry.
This was the third time a suspected computer malfunction had caused the death of a Time Warrior Candidate. Now, there could be absolutely no doubt in anyone’s mind that the massive computer that generated the scenario for the Time Warrior ritual had been compromised and sabotaged. There would have to be yet another investigation as to what went wrong, and a report for another Candidate’s delegation to explain why their leader was now dead, when by all fairness he should have been preparing for his Coronation. Instead of the huge Vide-Orb image dissipating to reveal a triumphant Time Warrior Candidate, and Emperor-Elect, it now vanished to show the pathetic remains of a brave, but savagely betrayed, worthy Horvath General. Rather than the rapturous cheering of the half a million strong Ganthoran crowd, there was a morose shocked silence that seethed with resentment and rage.
The Vide-Orb; the window to the Time Warrior Ritual, was a huge egg-shaped holographically generated image of what happened within the computer-generated chamber of the ritual.
With almost five hundred thousand spectators in the Arena, there had to be some way of allowing them to view what was happening in the Ritual scenario. As the Vide-Orb projection disappeared, the massive image of the slain Horvath General was replaced by the pathetically small blood-stained reality on the arena floor. The hundreds of thousands of Ganthoran spectators in the huge circular arena roared and shouted their anger and disapproval in one huge cry. What had happened to the Horvath was grossly unfair to their minds, and Ganthorans were vocally intolerant to injustice.
“This is a tragedy.” The stunned voice of Second Adjudicator Tiba pierced through the distracted absence of Bellor’s mind.
Looking into the huge video monitor built into the wall of the room, Bellor noticed that the computer generation had faded away to be replaced by the blue-white sand of the Time Warrior Arena. In the middle of the monitor image lay the body of the Horvath General; Goldair. A sharp-bladed weapon had split his skull neatly, leaving a huge red gaping wound from the crown of his head down to the base of his nose. He was lying on his back with arms and legs outstretched; the blood and brain matter from the fatal wound seeping into the blue white sand. His sightless grey eyes stared up at the beautiful pale yellow evening sky of Chronos, whilst the look on his light green face registered the shock and horror of his betrayal, and protested the unfairness of it to the sky.
Around the edge of the huge Arena, hundreds of thousands of Ganthorans drummed their heels in protest at the outrage they had just witnessed. The great Arena shook under the stamp of their feet to a tattoo that sounded like thunder.
RUMM! RUMM! RUMM-RUMM-RUMM! The angry crowd stamped over and over again. The dark-blue uniformed and helmeted security personnel on the arena floor shuffled nervously and pointed their weapons at the outraged crowd. The hundreds of thousands of feet stamped in unison, and sent chills down the spine of Grand Adjudicator Bellor. Goldair had not been an immediately popular candidate with the Ganthoran people, but he had shown courage and skill in the ritual. Now, there would be no Emperor to unite the diverse factions and species within the Empire. The instability would continue, and the Adjudicators would, once again have to struggle, threaten, plead, cajole and compromise to hold the Empire together until a new candidate for the Imperial Throne could emerge. Bellor shook his head with anger, resignation and disappointment.
Now, Grand Adjudicator Bellor had become tired and frustrated with the compromises, the political manoeuvring and the slow gradual death of the last Emperor’s shared dream of a more tolerant and prosperous Empire. Looking sadly at the brutalised remains of the Horvath General Goldair, Grand Adjudicator Bellor considered the near future for the Ganthoran Empire. The Pacifiers would, once more, have to use all too common brutality to subdue the inevitable protests, riots and disorder that would follow this disaster. The state of war that still existed with the Horvath would have to be pursued until the defeat of Frontier General Vartin had been avenged. Goldair had attacked, and defeated Vartin’s Frontier Fleet for the opportunity to undertake the Time Warrior ritual, so, legally, a state of war existed between the Horvath and the Ganthoran Empire. The Imperial Code required that the Horvath fleet stationed on the frontier had to be driven off, forcibly, to avenge that defeat.
That would, most likely, require the combination of two or more of the Frontier Fleets, making the Frontier Generals involved ineligible for the Time Warrior ritual. The defence of the Empire’s frontiers was their paramount duty. Needless to say, the Horvath would not just slip away peacefully after the treacherous death of their own General. It would mean more bloodshed and a weakening of the Frontier Fleets, which would be useful politically, but not in a military sense. The Bardomil, one of the most aggressive and predatory species in the entire galaxy, might just decide that a weakened Ganthoran frontier was an open invitation to recapture some of the disputed star systems in the area. Worst of all, if a Bardomil General defeated a Frontier
Fleet, they would be entitled to enter the Time Warrior ritual as a Candidate.
A Horvath Emperor would be tolerable to the Ganthorans, but a Bardomil would be dead within hours of the Coronation.
These were unpleasant enough thoughts for Grand Adjudicator Bellor. But first, there were other duties to perform. Bellor snapped out of his shocked stupor and turned to issue instructions to his fellow Adjudicators.
“Adjudicator Arrad!” Bellor snapped at his light blue-robed fellow Adjudicator.
Arrad, sitting with his head in his hands, at the near end of the long white Adjudication Table, from where they issued instructions and decisions, failed to respond.
“Adjudicator Arrad!!” Bellor drew a startled gasp from the nearby yellow-robed Adjudicator Tiba.
Slowly and uncertainly, Adjudicator Arrad rose to his feet. When at his full height, Arrad was a good head and shoulders taller than Bellor. The long, heavy, light blue, wide sleeved Robe of Office of the Third Adjudicator sat well on his tall slim frame. The white sash around his waist accentuated his muscular broad chest and provided the perfect accompaniment to the silver-chained medal that hung from his neck. Arrad was the youngest and most junior of the Adjudicators having only been appointed to the position after the death of his late father, Second Adjudicator Delbus, five years previously.
“Yes, Grand Adjudicator,” Arrad said.
“Go and prepare the execution order for General Vartin and his family,” Bellor ordered.
This was the part of the position that Bellor hated so much. Twelve years previously, the dying Emperor; Varnus, had decreed that Bellor be the Grand Adjudicator for the Time Warrior ritual. The late Emperor had died without any known children, and, by Ganthoran law, the succession could only be decided by a Candidate completing the Time Warrior ritual. To complete the ritual, a Candidate had to re-fight a battle which, in the history of his or her species and culture had been lost, and the leader killed. The Candidate had to show their skill, courage and leadership by reversing that historical decision to claim the Crystal Throne of Ganthus.
To qualify for the Candidacy of the Time Warrior ritual, a leader; whether they were Ganthoran or alien, had to win a decisive victory, either with, or over, one of the five Frontier Fleets that guarded the borders of the Empire. In the last twelve years, three Candidates had come and gone, with the single Ganthoran Candidate taking the Empire to the brink of civil war. The law still stood that if a Frontier Fleet General was defeated, then his life and the lives of his family were forfeit to the Candidate. If the Candidate became Emperor, then they themselves could decide what to do with the defeated General and his family. However, if the Candidate failed in the Time Warrior ritual, then Ganthoran law decreed that their lives were then forfeit to the Empire. And, for failure to defend the Empire, they would be immediately executed.
“But, Grand Adjudicator….!” Arrad began to protest.
“I will have no argument Arrad, the law is quite clear; their lives are forfeit to the Empire, and execution immediate!”
“Grand Adjudicator, the candidate should have won….”
“Yes, Arrad, he SHOULD have won, but he didn’t! Now go and prepare Vartin and his family for execution.”
“Yes, Grand Adjudicator.” Arrad rose to his feet and bowed deeply. He set one foot almost painfully in front of the other, and walked slowly out of the room.
“Please, don’t be so hard on him Grand Adjudicator.” Adjudicator Tiba soothingly walked over to Bellor after Arrad had left the room.
Where Arrad was tall and slim, Tiba was short, squat and muscular. Whilst both Arrad and Bellor were pure blood Ganthoran, Tiba was part Thelian. Unlike Bellor and Arrad, Tiba did not have the cat-like grace and poise of his fellow Adjudicators. Bellor, still angry from Arrad’s dissent turned his back on Tiba, and watched, whilst on the large sound-muted monitor, the orange uniformed clean-up crew begin to lift Goldair’s body into a yellow body bag from the arena floor.
“Yes, I know...” Bellor said.
“He’s young and idealistic,” Tiba interrupted, “he thought that this one would be the new Emperor, as did we all.”
“Yes, I know…he’s just like his father; brash, idealistic and stubborn…but how long can we hold the Empire together without a new Emperor?” Bellor stared as the lifeless body on the monitor was lifted into the body bag.
“Listen to them!” Bellor switched the sound button on the silent monitor.
The deafening thunder of stamping feet swept into the room like a tidal wave and filled it with the threat and menace of hundreds of thousands of frustrated Ganthorans.
“Grand Adjudicator, we must carry on as Emperor Varnus bid us,” Tiba said.
With a deft flick of his four-fingered right hand, Bellor silenced the monitor, and turned to face Tiba. The stamping ceased instantly, flooding the room with the deafening oppressive silence that Tiba found even more intimidating.
“I will conduct the investigation into this tragedy myself,” Bellor straightened the dark green sash on his long, wide-sleeved white Robe of Office. “Go and put the Frontier Fleets on alert, old friend. The Horvath may try to avenge their General with an immediate attack.”
For Second Adjudicator Tiba, the gold chain and medal of office seemed to hang around Bellor’s neck a little more heavily than he had noticed before. The Grand Adjudicator’s shoulders were just starting to stoop perceptibly, something else Tiba hadn’t really noticed – or perhaps, he was just imagining it in his own nervousness.
“Yes, Grand Adjudicator,” Tiba bowed and left the room through the pale, shimmering Tele-Portal door. Turning back to the silenced monitor, Bellor watched the six orange-uniformed Thelian clean-up crew, surrounded by nervous security personnel, start to carry the body bag to the trap door in the arena floor all while they were surrounded by nervous security personnel. Behind them, on the blue-white sand, the black blood and gore stain left by Goldair’s body stared back at him like a challenge. This should never have happened, Bellor muttered to himself. Moving from the large monitor, Bellor walked slowly round the lower side of the Adjudication Table. The table itself was “T” shaped, with a raised dais at the top end that ran horizontally to the rest of the table. Taking his seat, Bellor sat, his elbows on the table, his head resting in his hands. Who was doing this? He wracked his brain as he searched for a coherent answer. It had to be one of the Adjudicators who had passed the details of the pass-codes to someone. However, the other Adjudicators didn’t know each others’ pass-codes. It had to be a fourth person who had the pass-codes. Who would give them the codes? It wasn’t Arrad, because the first two incidents had been before his time as Adjudicator, and it wasn’t himself. That left Tiba as the only suspect. He had known Tiba for almost twenty years, and Tiba had no ambitions for the Imperial Throne. He didn’t have a military background, couldn’t become a Frontier General, had no connection to an old Imperial dynasty and, so, was ineligible to become even a Candidate.
Maybe Tiba was working for one of the Frontier Generals, who were constantly vying with each other for the chance to become Candidates? No, Bellor dismissed the idea from his mind. Tiba was not a full-blood Ganthoran. The “blue-blood” families as Bellor called them; the ones with hereditary descent from many of the previous Emperors, barely spoke a civil word to Tiba.
No, it just didn’t make any sense at all to Grand Adjudicator Bellor. But, as he sat pondering the conundrum of who could have leaked the pass-codes, he resolved that with this investigation he would get to the truth and he would punish those responsible with the utmost severity. Reaching down to one of the buttons on the console built into the table, he flipped one of the switches.
“Send the Chief of the Internal Security Pacifiers to the Adjudication Room, please,” Bellor said.
“Yes, Grand Adjudicator.”
Yes, thought Grand Adjudicator Bellor, I’ll get to the bottom of this, and I’ll make sure whoever did this pays with their lives.
Chapter 2: The Star
Cruiser Aquarius
The harsh, shrill clangour of the comm-link jarred through the silence of the darkened cabin and into the busily occupied mind of the First Admiral. With the protesting grunt of a disturbed animal, the First Admiral reached over from his pile of folios and reports to silence the unwelcome interruption to his working focus.
“Yes?” He angrily hit the flashing “respond” button on the silver-box comm-link set on the large rectangular work desk.
“Sorry to disturb you, sir- a message from Third Fleet: The Ganthorans have entered Terganian space,” said the disembodied voice.
“Thank you. Do we know how big the Ganthoran incursion force is?”
“Third Fleet reports an entire Ganthoran Frontier Fleet, around twelve hundred large vessels.”
No small incursion then, the disappointed First Admiral considered.
“Very well, please, summon the Fleet staff to the War Room in thirty minutes, and establish visual link to Admiral Parbe’an at Third Fleet for the conference.”
“Yes, sir.”
The First Admiral cut the comm-link, and sighed wearily.
“Oh God, just what we needed.”
It had been almost six weeks since the Terganians had signed the relatively brief Treaty of Alliance which bound them as the twenty-seventh species to join the rapidly expanding Universal Alliance. During that time the Terganians’ more aggressive and expansionist neighbours, the Ganthoran Empire, had probed and challenged the defences set up by Third Fleet at the request of the Terganian Directorate and the Alliance’s Military Liaison to the Territory. Now it looked like the Ganthorans were mounting a full-scale invasion.
“Illuminate, please,” ordered the First Admiral.
The cabin’s internal computer instantaneously flooded the cabin with a harsh white blinding light from the illumination panels built into the ceiling and walls.
Time Commander (The First Admiral Series) Page 1