by Bianca D'Arc
He had demanded an immediate hearing, probably in a further attempt to discomfit the convening body. But the High Priest was made of sterner stuff than that. He called his court and all was prepared in record time.
The court was different than anything of its kind Star had ever seen before. The chamber was oval in shape. The judges—though they were called Observants rather than judges—were arrayed around the oval in a semi-circle, with the High Priest at the top center of the oval. Observants were seated on daises arranged at equidistant points radiating out from the High Priest’s position to cover the top half of the oval.
The bottom part of the oval held witnesses and even a few spectators, along with those who would be participating in the hearing. A single spotlight shone down in the exact center of the oval. That’s where whoever was addressing the court would stand while they spoke.
Dim lights shone down on each Observant, while the rest of the chamber remained in shadow. The bright light at the center of the oval was in contrast with the dimness surrounding it, probably by design.
Star didn’t know exactly what to expect from the proceedings but Theos had sent instructions for she and Julian to be seated toward the back of the room only after everyone else had already filed in. Bisnat and Hulgur were helpful in timing their entrance and the two warriors sat with them, one on either side. All four of their guards were pulling extra duty, the two others standing directly behind their seats, facing outward, essentially back to back with Star and Julian.
The arrangement drew some speculative looks from the few people sitting near enough to Star and Julian to discern the guards in the dim light, but nothing was said. With any luck, Theos’s plans—whatever they were—would take shape before word spread of Star and Julian’s presence, because just looking at the rest of the people in the chamber, it was pretty obvious that Star and Julian didn’t quite fit in.
For one thing, the majority of men in the room were dressed in robes indicating they were priests. The second largest group were dressed as warriors, though they were far outnumbered by the priests, and were unarmed. Star was the only woman that she could see in the room, which made her stand out rather starkly from the rest of the assembly. And Julian…well…he stood out for a few different reasons.
Sure, he was a warrior, so his stature was similar to that of the other men—even if he was just the slightest bit taller. But he was dressed in a plain, serviceable shipsuit. The kind of thing worn on long space voyages. He had his leather jacket on over it, but it was still pretty clear what he was wearing. He was the only man in the room in such garb.
Just from a purely female point of view, Star had to admit, he certainly wore it well. The soft, stretchy fabric outlined muscles that she knew for a fact were hard as iron. When he moved, you could see his muscles rippling and the sight of his tight butt made her drool a little. The man was hot. The plain grey shipsuit enhanced what nature gave him rather than detracted from it. On a man with a lesser physique, the opposite would have been true.
Star tried hard to put such thoughts away as the Observants filed in from the top of the oval and took their seats on their individual daises. They all waited for the High Priest to enter and sit before the rest were seated. When they sat, everyone in the chamber sat as well, except for Father Theos.
Instead, Father Theos walked slowly forward to take his place in the intense circle of light at the center of the chamber. Each one of his steps fell heavily, emphasizing the gravity of this situation and the seriousness with which he intended to proceed. When given leave to speak by the High Priest, Theos launched into a rather lengthy description of the past.
He talked about his sister and how she had been presumed dead all those years ago. He explained how she was promised by their father to marry Pater of Moon Malek. He laid out the facts, as they had come to be known…and then he turned them all on their ear.
“In truth, I have since learned that my sister did not die that day. Instead, she faked her death and fled our galaxy to make her home amongst our enemies, in the human galaxy. She found her true mate there, a human man of some stature. They married and she was welcomed into his family. She had several children and lived a full and happy life,” Theos said, speaking directly to the Observants and ignoring the uneasy rustling coming from certain sections of the crowd of spectators.
“You pardon, Father Theos, but how can you know this for fact?” one of the Observants asked from midway down the right arch of the oval.
“Because I have spoken with the spirit of my sister, here in the temple, just yesterday. I heard the story from her and called on the High Priest to verify that the entity I was speaking with was indeed my sister.”
All eyes turned to the top of the oval, where the High Priest was seated. He oozed calm and confidence. Star could see why the man was the leader of these men. His power was there, in every movement, every gesture. He nodded now, surety in the motion.
“This I verify,” the High Priest intoned. “I have spoken with the spirit of the Princess Matilda and am certain it is, indeed her. To further test this important piece of evidence, no less than three of our brethren who are gifted with the ability to spirit-talk were summoned to speak with her. They also verify and have already entered their testimony into the record, but are available for cross-questioning, should the defendant wish to challenge this testimony.”
“So the Princess Matilda is a spirit now,” the same Observant picked up his questioning. “My condolences, Father Theos. Can you tell us where and when she died?”
Theos frowned. “She, along with her true mate, children and extended family were killed in the attack on Pacifica Station.” Even Star could see the shocked expressions on many of the Observants’ faces. “We all know that Pater of Moon Malek led that attack. He claimed the station was a munitions depot, but there was never any proof, and after the fact, there were no survivors to say otherwise. The destruction of Pacifica Station has never sat well with the emperor. It was not ordered, nor sanctioned, but prosecuting after the fact was impossible due to the lack of survivors.”
Theos paused to sigh heavily, as if with regret. Star had to admit, the former emperor was a brilliant orator. He knew how to time his words and when to pounce. It was clear, as he straightened his spine, that he was about to let loose. She noticed that several people around her were tensed, eager to hear what he had to say.
“In light of this new information…” Theos went on, “…it is clear Pater attacked that civilian station out of spite for the woman who had scorned him years before. She fled because she could not countenance marrying him. They were not true mates, but our father wished a political alliance to keep Moon Malek in line. Only Pater knows why he wanted to marry my sister so much. I speculate it was for closer ties to the power of the emperor. Knowing them both, I can tell you from my own observations that they did not suit. The marriage would not have been a happy one, and I do not blame my sister for running.”
Theos shook his head, then turned to face the accused, seated at the front of the gallery. “I do, however, blame you, Pater, for her death. Along with the deaths of thousands of civilians on that non-military space station. Your attack on Pacifica Station was unprovoked, not sanctioned by the emperor, and totally against our laws. The destruction of Pacifica killed thousands of women and children. All for the spite of one man.” Theos’s voice slowed and dropped to a seething tone. “Pater of Moon Malek, you are a criminal in the eyes of every honorable jit’suku warrior, and a disgrace. And I will see you die for your crimes.”
There was a commotion toward the front of the observers section as the red-headed warrior Star had seen in her visions jumped from his seat, despite hands trying to hold him back. The priest she had seen in her latest vision was at his side. His brother. A skinnier, more conniving version of Pater.
The priest calmed his brother and eventually Pater sat back down. Then the priest moved forward to join Theos in the light. Only those in the light were permitt
ed to speak, it seemed, with little input from the Observants.
“Surely, even you cannot accuse someone of a crime based solely on the word of a spirit,” the priest scoffed.
“If you will look at the files, Brother Lohar, I have ample evidence of events. I have submitted unequivocal proof that Pacifica Station was a civilian installation, not a military target. I have hard data on who was living there and how many women and children were slaughtered by your brother’s wanton destruction of the place. I have detailed information about the business my sister and her mate owned along with their extended family. And finally, I have a living survivor to press the claim.”
Star felt Julian tense next to her. She knew the documents Theos had filed with the court were the files Julian had painstakingly compiled over the past few years. And she knew the so-called survivor he referred to had to be Julian. Theos was playing his ace and things were coming to a head. Whatever happened next was going to send fate spinning in one direction or the other. She sent up a prayer to the Goddess that things would turn out for the best. It was all in Her hands now.
“There were no survivors of Pacifica Station,” Lohar said smugly.
“That is correct,” Theos agreed with him, taking some of the wind out of his sails. “My witness is a surviving family member. My nephew, to be exact. And before you ask, Dr. Terva has certified his identity on the molecular level. He is my nephew. Of that there is no doubt.”
With this revelation, even the well-disciplined priests started looking around. Most soon realized Theos had to be talking about Julian. Slowly, and with deliberate intent, Julian let go of her hand and stood. All eyes followed his progress as he walked slowly toward the light at the center of the chamber.
But Lohar hadn’t seen him yet. He continued to sneer at Theos. “And we’re supposed to just take your word for that? Where is he then? I demand you produce this long lost nephew so that we may see him for ourselves.”
Julian’s silent approach took the loudmouthed priest by surprise. He entered the circle of light and looked directly at Lohar.
“I am here,” he declared in a strong voice that sent shivers down Star’s spine. “And I demand justice for the murder of my mother, my father, my siblings, cousins, uncles, aunts, and every civilian you slaughtered on Pacifica Station, which was my home.” Julian turned his gaze on Pater, still sitting in the dimness of the gallery. “I demand blood for blood.”
“And I demand you prove your worth,” Lohar sneered, drawing Julian’s attention back into the circle of light. “You are no Zenai. You’re not even jit’suku. You have no standing in this court until you have proven yourself worthy by right of combat.”
Julian shrugged out of his leather jacket and handed it to Theos, never taking his eyes off Lohar. She’d heard rumors about this, even back in the Milky Way. It seemed there was truth in the stories that court proceedings on Solaris Prime often included trial by combat. Since none of the Observants made a move to stop the brawl that was about to take place, she realized this was normal for them. She could only shake her head. Men.
But by the same token, a part of Star wanted to see Julian wipe the floor with the sniveling priest’s face. If her vision held true, this red-headed bastard had already done damage to Julian’s reputation and had been perverting the true faith of these priests to serve his family’s political aims. That couldn’t be allowed to continue.
The younger priest shrugged off his outer robe and flew at Julian. Ready, Julian sidestepped the attack neatly. What followed was a flurry of movement and the occasional grunt, accompanied by the whoosh of displaced air and the quiet rustle of the fabric both men wore. Once in a while, a meaty thud sounded as one or the other landed a hit on their opponent. To her relief and delight, Julian wasn’t on the receiving end of many of those punches and kicks. No, he was delivering a sound thrashing to the priest who dared to challenge his standing.
When blood appeared, the match was called to a halt. Lohar was bleeding profusely from a badly broken nose. Julian merely stood watching, his low opinion of Lohar clear on his face, but he respected the authority of the High Priest, who had signaled to end the fighting. Two younger priests briefly entered the circle of light to help Lohar out of the spotlight, seeing to his injuries.
Star also noted that Lohar’s hands were bound and he was held off to one side, in the company of the young priests. Was he under arrest? It certainly seemed that way to Star, but no explanation was forthcoming. It seemed like everyone but her knew the rules of this strange court.
That left Theos and Julian in the circle.
“As you can see clearly in the Lady’s Light, this man is blood of my blood. He is my sister’s only surviving son. His name is Julian and I hereby officially recognize him as my nephew.”
“So noted,” the High Priest intoned. “Prince Julian, we recognize you as the surviving son of Princess Matilda.”
Star saw the way Julian started a bit at being called a prince. She had to smile. He apparently hadn’t thought that far ahead. If his mother was a princess, it didn’t take much to realize he was also royalty, even if he hadn’t been raised that way.
“We also recognize and understand—” the High Priest went on, “—that you were not raised jit’suku and do not know our ways, though your mother was clearly of our race. Therefore, I must ask you several questions for the record.”
“I understand,” Julian answered formally to the implied question.
“What form of deity do you worship?” The rapid-fire question surprised Star, but then again, they were in a temple and the authority here was the priesthood, not the political class.
“I believe in the Goddess in all Her forms, as my mother taught me,” Julian answered.
“Your human family had no issue with this?” the High Priest asked. “We understand that humans often prefer to think of the divine as a male, and sometimes have wars over their specific beliefs.”
“My father’s family believed in Our Lady of Fatima, an apparition that came to three small children on Earth, many centuries ago. My mother always thought that perhaps that the Lady of Fatima was yet another face of the Goddess. My father’s family was accepting of my mother’s beliefs and did not object in any way when she taught my siblings and myself Her ways.”
“Did she teach you the ways of the Zenai as well?” one of the Observants on the left side of the oval asked. “For you fight well—almost like one of us. Where did you learn such skills?”
“My mother trained our minds and encouraged us to train our bodies. She taught us meditation techniques from childhood and brought in high ranking sensei—teachers of human martial arts—for us to study with as we grew. She carefully picked the forms we studied, the emphasis on martial skill as defense was important to her. My brothers and I were all champions among our age groups as we developed.”
“She trained them to be warriors,” Theos added. “I talked with her spirit about this last night and Matilda admitted to me that she was worried her family would be discovered and targeted, so she made sure her children could defend themselves. But she didn’t count on an attack from space—a dishonorable slaughter that targeted not only her family, but thousands of others simply because they were on the same space station. If her children had been challenged directly, they would have answered the challenge to the best of their ability—as you have just seen Julian answer Lohar’s challenge. But the others were not given the chance. Pater’s fleet blew the station out of existence without warning or quarter.”
“How did you survive, Prince Julian?” asked another of the Observants after Theos’s statement had time to sink in.
“Simple. I wasn’t there. I was on the other side of the galaxy, executing top secret operations on the orders of my superiors in the human military. Pater’s spies couldn’t find me because at that point, I was so deeply into a secret mission, that my own mother could not have found me.”
“You are a soldier in the human military?” another Ob
servant asked.
“I was. I’m now retired. I have my own ship and I run cargo.”
“You are a pilot as well as a warrior then,” the same Observant followed up.
“I was ranked an Ace,” Julian admitted with only a small show of pride. Star knew what it meant to be an Ace in this day and age. Only a very few elite pilots ever held that rank.
“You are a credit to your line, Prince Julian,” the same Observant said quietly.
Julian nodded his acknowledgment.
“In light of the fact that Matilda raised her children as warriors, even if the training was done among humans, and especially accounting for Julian’s distinguished military record, I believe he should be recognized as a warrior of the jit’suku. As such, he would be entitled to the blood he seeks from the man responsible for the deaths of his family.”
Pater, without his brother to hold him back, advanced into the circle, belligerence in every line of his body. He faced Theos, not even deigning to acknowledge Julian’s presence.
“I recognize no filthy human as a warrior.” Pater probably would have spat if he hadn’t been in a temple. Star surmised he had the manners of a warthog, based on his appearance. “They are not our equals. They are our enemies. I do not recognize any supposed honors or ranks earned in the human military. The puppy is human. I will send him back to his galaxy minus his head.”
Pater seemed ready to rush Julian, and Star noted that Julian was ready for him, but something held him back. It looked as if his arms were bound by the light of the circle itself and Star started to realize what was really going on in that light. It was more than just illumination. It was some kind of field, perhaps, though she didn’t see any evidence of the technology needed to generate it.