by R. Brown
“You will be. I’m ready, Keeper. Let’s get this over with,” said Ashlyn.
“Initiating stasis procedure. Sixty seconds until lock down,” announced the Keeper.
Ash gave Steven a crooked grin, “Give the children a kiss for me. Tell them, I love them.” Ash let go of his hand, and neatly folded her hands atop her belly. “See you on the flipside.”
Ashlyn’s demeanor instantly changed, her smile disappearing. Her face turned serious, her mind intent upon a course of action. “Keeper, I have one final order. It must be carried out immediately. You will not delay by asking for Steven’s permission or ask for clarification, is that understood?” Ash looked at Steven, expectant of his support.
“Do as she asks, Keeper—whatever it is,” affirmed Steven. His fear of what she was about to reveal sped his heart in expectation.
“Understood,” said the Keeper.
“There is a Draconian outpost—” Ash groaned as the darkness attacked her. “It’s on the bottom of the ocean, off the southern tip of the Corodon continent. Run a deep-water scan of—” Ash grabbed her abdomen, the pain catching her breath. “Fire missiles as soon as you have a lock on the target. Level the base. Turn it into glass. Make sure that no one escapes.” Ash gasped for a breath, struggling against the pain.
“Don’t say anymore, Ash. The Keeper knows what to do,” said Steven. He took her hand, wanting to comfort her.
“Scan completed. Target verified. Missiles launched,” announced the Keeper. “No one will escape, Lady Ashlyn. You have my word.
Ashlyn’s face was strained, a bead of sweat upon her forehead. She raised an eyebrow to Steven. “Now you know why I had to wait.”
“Stasis protocols initiated.”
A cold chill filled her chamber, and it sent a shiver up Steven’s arm. Reluctantly, he let go of her hand, a heavy look of consternation crossing his face as the door to her stasis chamber slid into place, sealing her in.
As the lock engaged and Ashlyn’s eyes grew heavy, her smile faded—her lips trying unsuccessfully to speak a few words as she fell asleep.
“I love you too, Ash,” said Steven softly.
There was a small whooshing sound, and for a moment the air inside the chamber grew cloudy. The light within dimmed and went dark.
“She is now in stasis, Lord Steven,” confirmed the Keeper.
Steven stared at the chamber’s darkened pane of glass. “Was there really a Draconian outpost on the ocean floor?” asked Steven.
“Yes. Lady Ashlyn was correct. Deep-water scans revealed a small Draconian outpost within the Mandalay mountain range on the bottom of the ocean floor just off the southern tip of Corodon.”
Dammit, Ash. That shows just how much we need you—I need you, he thought to himself. Steven took a deep breath to collect his thoughts. “Keeper, from this moment on, maintain constant full-spectrum scans of the planet and surrounding space for any anomalies. We’ve underestimated them too many times.”
“It will be done, Lord Steven.”
“By the way, Keeper. Do you know where I can find a broom?” Before the Keeper could answer Steven said, “You’re still calling us Lord and Lady, and Ash warned you what would happen if you did that again.”
“I am sorry.” The Keeper seemed to almost stumble over the words. “Old habits are hard to break.”
Steven had to grin at the Keeper’s all too human response. “It’s okay, Keeper, but like Ashlyn said—there’s no need to be formal when we are talking amongst ourselves. It’s ostentatious.
“And I do have a personal request. I promised Ashlyn that I’d make Eden our place, a place where she and I can go to find quiet. I’d like you to put a shield over it like you did for Eden on Hadaesia.”
“It will be done,” said the Keeper. “Only the two of you will be allowed to enter.”
“Thank you. And Keeper, like Ashlyn’s spiritual trip across the universe—I gather that the Draconian ship and the outpost below are also new events that didn’t happen in the prior timeline?” asked Steven.
“Yes, that is correct.”
Steven made a low growling sound.
“The presence of the darkness has introduced a new set of variables, the outcome of which cannot be predicted. Those that we have killed today will be missed. I expect that others will be sent to check on them.
“It means the future Draconian attack that we had anticipated, may now come sooner, later, or not at all. Our time line just got fucked.”
“Keeper-…-I never in my life thought I would hear you swear.”
“I felt it appropriate for the situation. Did I use it incorrectly?”
“No, and that’s why I’m impressed. It’s the funniest thing you have ever said,” said Steven.
“That was not my intent,” said the Keeper. “We now have to be prepared for any possibility, maintaining a constant state of vigilance. Our advantage of knowing when the attack would come has been lost.”
“Yes, it has.” Steven put his hand atop Ashlyn’s stasis chamber. “Six months, Ash. I’ll see you in six months. Even if it is for just an hour.”
“Steven, as per orders from Ashlyn, I could not reveal the elements of our conversation with you while she was awake.”
With every fiber of his being, Steven trusted Ashlyn, but he knew he wasn’t going to like what was coming.
“She gave me a set of instructions to follow.”
“Which are?”
“Once I have completed the duplicate Destiny and finished the time gate, I am to take her to an undisclosed destination and time period.”
“I am aware of that, Keeper. So, what is the big surprise?”
“I am not to awaken her until after I have arrived at the hidden destination. She told me to tell you that she begs for your forgiveness, but that she is not to be awakened in this time-period, nor can she return with Ja’kal until the war is over.
“Fear of a severe reprisal from the darkness is what kept her from openly discussing this with you.
“And if I may add a note of my own. She was very sad that she would not get to see the children as they grow into adults. She told me to tell you—to not let them forget her.”
The huff Steven gave filled the room. It meant that he would not see her again for many years. “Damn it all.” A lengthy pause passed. “I don’t like it, but I understand.” His thoughts went to Ja’kal, and he realized that the reverse was also true, that he would not see his son for many years. The darkness was a burden that required a sacrifice from both of them.
“Keeper, let the other ship commanders know that I am going to retire for the evening. Wake me in ten hours. Tell them and the other Council members that I would like all of them to convene aboard Destiny at that time. We have to prepare for what’s ahead.”
“Message sent,” said the Keeper. “The conference room will be ready for their arrival.
“And, Steven—we must begin your training. You must learn how to use your Magori abilities. Your road to master them is long.”
“I guess I knew that was coming.” Thinking out loud to ease the Keeper’s concerns, “Ashlyn did well with hers,” responded Steven.
“No, she did not. She died thousands of deaths. It was Anu’s maneuverings that gave her the chance to find an avenue of victory. Even now, she has barely begun to tap into her Transor abilities. And she is far from mastering those she has discovered. There is much she does not know.”
“All right, Keeper. I apologize. First chance we get tomorrow, I’ll start whatever training regimen you recommend. See you in ten hours.” Steven left for his quarters, each echoing step of his boots hitting the ground, reminding him that he was alone.
Lying in bed, the light from Heaven softly illuminating the room—his loneliness consumed every thought. Only now that Ashlyn was gone, did he realize how much he missed the sound of her soft breath as she slept. Putting his hand out, as if he expected to find her lying there beside him—the coldness of the sheets made him win
ce. His heart felt empty and cold, as though she had taken it with her into stasis. Subconsciously, he rolled over onto her side of the bed, wanting to feel closer to her. As he drifted off to sleep, his mind recalled their time together in the garden. It had been a moment of happiness and contentment—and unbeknownst to him, the last he would have for many years.
Chapter 6
Ten Hours Later
As Steven entered the conference room, those waiting for him were surprised to not see Ashlyn at his side. Lord Atrahasis felt compelled to ask. “Is Lady Ashlyn not going to attend the meeting? I wanted to thank her for saving my ship, my crew.”
Steven’s hesitation and disconcerting eyes heightened the anxiety of those he’d invited. There was so much to tell them, but it would also open the door to a thousand questions that he wasn’t prepared to answer. “She’s in stasis. For now, she has a different path to follow. Someday, after the war is over, she’ll rejoin us and be part of this Council. Until then, it’s just us.”
“After the war?” said Brooks. “What the hell happened?” Everyone in the room exchanged awkward glances.
Feeling the weight of Brooks’ gaze upon him, Steven answered. “A lot has happened. And there is a lot to discuss, my friends—a lot.”
“She will be missed,” said Atrahasis. His brows furrowed with deep concern. The big man leaned back, and folded his broad arms, content to let Steven unveil the issues at his own pace.
“Are you all right?” asked Brooks.
Slowly, Steven gave a nod and a small grin back to his friend—his false assurance unable to mask his inner sadness. “Ash is—” Steven paused, correcting himself. “The darkness is—in stasis.”
“Darkness?” interjected Moore. “I feel like I missed something. Is something wrong with Ashlyn? Is she okay?”
The inference that something was wrong with Ashlyn stilled their hearts, sucking all the energy out of the room. The men were somber, anxiously attentive, wanting to hear his explanation of what had happened to the woman they had grown to love and respect.
Stalling, Steven cleared his throat before speaking. “No, she’s not okay—and because of it, we need to amend our plans for the impending attack. The timeline for the coming attack is no longer fixed. I think we’re safe for a few months, but after that—all bets are off. The Draconian attack could come at any time. We need to be prepared.
“It’s time all of you learned about the history of the Draconians and something called the darkness. It’s the reason that Ashlyn can’t be here today.”
Steven shifted uncomfortably in his chair, as he began to tell them about Ashlyn’s time in the nexus and her journey through the netherworld. He explained how the darkness had taken possession of their unborn son, and how she had decided to go into stasis to protect them.
The wide-eyed men sat for hours, hanging onto every word, amazed at all she had endured—and how she had even been forced to kill her own son. How, Enlil, a man who had used his godlike powers to become the savior of mankind—was later driven insane by those whom he had vanquished.
“It explains so much,” said Novacek. “To the people of Earth, Enlil had been both god and devil.”
“It really does explain a lot,” agreed Brooks. “I feel sorry for the lad. He was damned from the start.”
“It’s haunting,” said Moore. “None of us could have withstood that.”
“I now see why she went into stasis,” said Atrahasis.
“Yes,” said Steven. “The darkness has been attacking her, inflicting bodily pain.” Purposely, he avoided telling them about how it had come into their reality, and how it had sought to assault her.
After a guttural growl of released stress, Atrahasis spoke. “Lady Ashlyn is strong, but it is sad that she has suffered so much—and that she has done so, alone. If there is anything that I can do to help, I beg you to ask.”
“That goes for all of us,” said Novacek in support.
“Thank you, my friends,” replied Steven, thankful for their support. “But, you are wrong, Atrahasis—yes, Ashlyn is strong, but it’s only because she never has been alone. She carries all of you in her heart. Everything she does, is because she loves all of you.”
The room went silent—each of them lost to a flood of emotions. They felt powerless to help her, and it showed in their slumped shoulders and dipped heads.
“Keeper,” said Steven, speaking up to draw them out of their sorrow. “It seems like a good time to tell them what we know of the attack that occurred in the other timeline.”
The Keeper stood, addressing the members of the Council. “There are only two surviving records of the attack. The first recording was taken from an unmanned observatory on Triton, the largest of Heaven’s moons.”
In the center of the circle between them a holo appeared, showing them a large armada of passing warships headed toward Heaven. Dark, menacing, stealthy—they were almost indiscernible from the blackness of space beyond. Only those against the backdrop of Heaven itself gave detail as to the size and shape of the approaching vessels.
Suddenly, from one of the trailing ships a green burst of light erupted. The recording flashed, and abruptly came to an end as the observatory was destroyed.
“How large was their fleet? It was hard to see how many there were,” said Stratton.
“Three hundred and sixty-one,” affirmed the Keeper.
The men grimaced at the large number.
“Keeper, where were you when the battle began?” asked Stratton.
“I was docked on Heaven. As soon as the fleet was detected, I launched into space. By making my presence known, I was hoping to avert a fight that would endanger those on the ground.
“The Draconian fleet ignored my hails, and opened fire as soon as I was in range.
“My encounter with them is the only other recording to have survived the attack.”
Instantly, the holo again appeared. It showed Destiny under a heavy assault. She was surrounded by the Draconian fleet on all sides, the barrage taxing her systems. Electrical currents streamed from dozens of emitters attached to Destiny’s hull, fortifying her strained shields.
Destiny was in a fight for her life. Her laser turrets were blazing, missile arrays firing and reloading. The men were awed. It was a battle on a scale they had never seen.
Far below, the northern hemisphere of Heaven could be seen, the western portion of the continent glowed orange as the missiles arrived and laid waste to Tryskellyon and the surrounding regions.
“And here is another angle of the last moments of battle as seen from the bridge,” said the Keeper.
The viewpoint switched to that of the bridge looking out into space. “Keeper?” came a frantic call from Anu over the ship’s com. “Tryskellyon is gone. There are only a few of us left below ground on Charon. The portal was damaged and we’re unable to transport. Can you get to us?”
“Yes. ETA 1 minute fifty-three seconds.” Destiny’s engines roared to life. Accelerating at full power, she rammed the two vessels in her path, making a hole in the web of ships surrounding her.
Kicking in the starboard thrusters, Destiny spun hard to port, pointing her bow directly at the planet. The sudden and unexpected move had taken the enemy by surprise, allowing Destiny to pull away from the dozens of ships slow to gear-up and give chase.
As she moved, Destiny collapsed her weapon arrays, bringing them inside the hull. The Keeper morphed Destiny’s shape, streamlining the design for maximum speed within planetary atmosphere. Under constant acceleration toward the planet, her speed increasing second by second, Destiny set a collision course.
Outside Destiny, the thickening air of the atmosphere against her hull glowed orange. The air caught fire, hiding her bow beneath a wall of orange and yellow flames that trailed along the outer edges of the v-shaped hull.
Destiny passed through a small cloud. “Transporting in 3-2-1,” said the Keeper to those waiting below ground on Charon. The whir of the transporter brought the f
orty-three survivors aboard in a single grouping, placing them around the bridge. The calls for help and cries of pain, from those who were burned and injured, filled the bridge. But it was the throng of loud gasps that turned the attention of everyone to the forward view window.
Before them, a patchwork of towering orange flames and billowing black smoke filled the viewscreen. It was Tryskellyon, their home. It was gone. As Destiny raced through the high drifting ash and smoke, and entered the sea of fire, the crew let out a cry of terror. Destiny was about to crash, nose first into the planet. Seconds away from impact, Anu and Ashlyn clasped hands. Others embraced, expectant of a quick and painless death.
The air in front of Destiny shimmered as a wormhole opened less than three-hundred feet above the liquefying ground. A heartbeat later, Destiny was inside the wormhole.
As the Keeper brought the holo to a stop, the men began to speak. “Wow,” said Stratton.
“Wow is right. That was intense,” said Moore.
“Intensely insane,” said Tomlinson, adding. “Two more seconds and—”
“We wouldn’t be sitting here now,” added Steven.
“I’m impressed, Keeper. They’re right, you were doing a great job against the enemy. You were outnumbered, outgunned. For being just one ship—it was amazing.” Novacek said.
The Keeper gave Novacek a humble nod.
“And that leads us to the next question. Do we know what the Draconians look like?” asked Novacek.
“I have two images in my databanks of a Draconian. This first image is from Ashlyn’s memory when she accessed records from the Akashic library in the netherworld.”
A holo appeared, showing them the projected image that Siri, the computer in the library had shown Ashlyn. The Draconian was humanoid in bodily form with green opalescent scales and hints of blue and red mottling.
“Damn. They’re big,” said Tomlinson. “How tall is he?”
“The Draconian in the image is nine feet three inches in height. Approximate weight, six-hundred and seventy-five pounds.”