Frontline

by Z H Brown

  Ansaria was surprised by the impromptu history lesson, but was more surprised at the turnover rate in one of the Empire’s highest positions. She vaguely recalled some of what DEC was talking about, but she had never paid much attention to the upper-echelons of the Empire. At least, she hadn’t until she had been dropped into the middle of events that would one day become history themselves.

  DEC came to a stop outside a door emblazoned with the Imperial dragon symbol. The droid turned to face its charge.

  “The Emperor is waiting for you within, captain. I shall remain here to take you back to your quarters once you are finished.” With that, it hovered over to one side to allow Ansaria to enter.

  The door slid up as soon as she got close to it and descended once she was in the room. She was surprised at how dark it was, but her eyes quickly adjusted, and she took in her surroundings. The floor was the same white, smooth stone as the rest of the palace, but the walls were all shrouded in shadow, and she couldn’t make out any details. A large window, like the one in her room was ahead of her at the other end of the room, with a large, angular shape obscuring it.

  “Come forward, Captain Dormus,” said the voice of Xandarius from near the window. It occurred to Ansaria that the Emperor was most likely seated in a massive chair to observe the view.

  Ansaria crossed the room and lowered herself to one knee once she was behind the throne. “You wanted to see me, sire?”

  “Yes, but please, come closer. Enjoy seeing our homeworld while you can.” Ansaria was a little put off by that comment, but she stood and came closer none the less. She was surprised by the view; she had been expecting the Emperor’s viewing window to look out at the capital of his empire, enabling him to view the beating heart of his territory. Instead, the window looked out over a desolate stretch of land. The purplish-gray sands of a massive desert continued on towards the horizon, where they met the Ancestors’ Fortune Mountains, their peaks a jagged outline against the starry sky. The half-full moon, the Dragon Pearl, provided only a small amount of illumination, explaining why the room they were in was so dark; when the Pearl was full, the light it gave was almost as powerful as a spotlight.

  Ansaria was so focused on the view that she was slightly startled when Xandarius spoke.

  “I have discussed the situation with my wife and my military advisors, and while many of them are reluctant to ally with the Imperium, we have all agreed that it is likely for the best. Given your propensity for diplomacy, I would like you and your squad to accompany me to the meeting once Bronze has secured it.”

  “We are all at your disposal, my lord,” said Ansaria, solemnly.

  “Indeed,” was all he said in reply before lapsing into silence. Ansaria obediently stood waiting for whatever else Xandarius wished to discuss.

  “You’re a remarkable young woman, Ansaria,” continued the ruler. “I hope I have made it clear how much I value and appreciate everything you and your squad have done.”

  Ansaria was slightly taken aback by Xandarius’ frankness, but what he said next absolutely floored her.

  “How would you like to become one of my queens?”

  Ansaria opened her mouth, found she didn’t really have answer, closed it, and then tried to process what she had been asked. Queen Zira was the Prime-Queen, the Emperor’s erstwhile love. However, the Emperor had at least seven other wives and multiple children by them. While the vast majority of Xenlongians were monogamous, the practice of rulers having multiple spouses and many, many children was an ancient tradition.

  As Ansaria struggled to come up with a response, her hand at her side bumped into one of her pockets, and she felt the bulge of whatever was inside. She absently reached down and felt a raggedy, fabric strip. Her gift from Eberius.

  The comforting and familiar feel of the keepsake allowed Ansaria to calm herself enough to reply to Xandarius.

  “I am honored….and extremely flattered my lord, but, I’m sorry, I must decline. I have…met someone. Rather recently, truth be told.”

  Xandarius waved his hand at her comment. “No need to apologize, captain. Far be it from me to get in the way of a budding romance. However, the offer still stands, should you change your mind, and provided we survive the coming events.” He said the last part almost to himself.

  “Now then, I have one more matter before I release you. You lost your sword during the battle with the Renos, did you not?”

  “Yes, sire. I’d carried that sword since I was promoted to sergeant. I used it to save myself and my squad more times than I can remember.”

  “I understand how it feels to make a connection with a weapon,” he flexed his hand, and even in the low light of the half moon, the metallic coating seemed to gleam. “My Silverskin feels like my true skin, a natural part of myself that has allowed me to triumph in countless battles. That is why I have a gift for you; I personally searched the armory until I found something I felt was fitting.”

  Xandarius waved his hand once more, but in a slower manner. Ansaria was forced to step back as a panel hidden in the floor slid apart and a large, rectangular container rose up. When it came to a stop, Ansaria reached down to open it. At her touch, the box automatically opened.

  Inside was a sheathed sword, as long as Ansaria’s arm. The heavy scabbard that encased it was gunmetal gray, while the handle was marble white. A simple, unmarked button was near the guard, and when Ansaria pressed it, the scabbard rapidly retracted, exposing the blade. The blade was as white as the handle and had a sharp, triangular point.

  What really surprised her was what else the button activated: the edge of the blade began to glow with white-hot energy. The heat of it washed over her face like a desert wind, and the glow of the weapon was so bright that she was soon standing in a pool of light as bright as the full Pearl. She gave it an experimental swing and enjoyed how it sizzled as she sliced the air, then pressed the button, deactivating and sheathing it.

  “This is an incredible gift, sire,” said Ansaria with a low bow. “I shall use this blade in the defense of our Empire and its citizens.”

  “That is exactly what I expect of you, Captain Dormus. But for now, rest; tomorrow, we begin planning for a battle unlike any other. Dismissed.”

  Ansaria bowed once more again before turning around and leaving. DEC was waiting for her, softly humming to itself as it floated. Before they set off back to Ansaria’s room, the captain fished her strip of fabric from her pocket and tied it to the handle of her new blade.

  Chapter XXV

  Gold and Silver Alliance

  Work has begun on the safety features you asked for, my lord. We have a dozen ships on patrol, each capable of vaporizing the asteroid in its entirety. All of the Siladon androids have been removed for storage and/or disassembly and we currently have a thousand troops stationed inside to protect the technicians setting up the isolated network. We should have the situation completely covered by the time you reach the meeting place, Your Majesty.

  --Admiral Travay, reporting on the progress on the confinement of BRONZE

  Early the next morning, after a scrumptious and filling breakfast, Ansaria, her squad, and the rest of the crew from the Throneship returned to the platform in the palace courtyard. Queen Zira and her entourage accompanied them, where Xandarius announced that the Prizmid Polaris would be joining them as his new Administrator, Epsilon.

  Once they had teleported back to the ship, Xandarius had immediately begun setting things in action. The vessel had been rearmed and refueled during the night, and Xandarius declared that they would make all speed to the edge of Imperial space where he had previously intended to hunt down the Golden Emperor.

  For days, the ship traveled through Z-space at a phenomenal speed. According to the information that had been distributed amongst the crew, it would take them four standard days to reach their destination. After hearing this, Ansaria broached a question to Tread:

  “How is it that it will only take us four days to cross the bulk of Impe
rial space this time, but previously it had taken over a week for the Throneship to cover the same distance?”

  “Last time, the vessel was going at a standard speed; going ‘full-throttle’, as it were, puts an awful strain on the engines, to say nothing of the fuel and power consumption. Undoubtedly, given the time constraint we are under, the Emperor has decided that the detrimental effects are an acceptable trade for speed.”

  Ansaria and her squad were given free reign during the trip. Rather than keep them on the roster for guard duty, Xandarius had decided to allow the heroes of the Empire to engage in whatever recreation and training they could squeeze out of the trip. Ansaria was far from disappointed, as it allowed her to test her new blade in the training room. The sword, which she dubbed Star Saber, proved to be just as devastating as it appeared. Training bot after training bot were turned to slag by the plasma-lined weapon. It wasn’t uncommon for some of the others in the training room to stop and watch Ansaria cut through veritable armies of machines.

  During the trip, Ansaria also told the squad about Xandarius’ proposal to her, with the understanding that they keep it to themselves. Slog and Critter were both stunned at the question, but neither was surprised at Ansaria turning it down. Tread, however, was a bit less understanding.

  “You rejected the chance to become a ruler of a major, interstellar empire. Why?" he had asked, as dumbfoundedly as his features would allow.

  "As childish as it may seem, I... have feelings that might cause me to regret it later." No one in her squad had missed her glance at the ever-present bit of dark-blue fabric which hung on her sword's hilt across the room.

  "Feelings for an individual you met once, for a couple of hours, and will likely never see again? Forgive me, Ansaria, but that seems counterintuitive.”

  “Well if you’re so keen on the idea, Tread, maybe you can take her place the next time the Emperor pops the question,” said Alvara in her friend's defense. She had audibly gasped when Ansaria told her about what happened, but had agreed that her friend had made the right call.

  Sensing his organic friends' discomfort, and seeing a sadness he still did not understand fill his commander's eyes, the android felt it best to redirect with a joke. “I find it highly improbable that the Emperor would be inclined to wed me, sergeant. For one, I would be unable to bear him any children. Also, I doubt I would be any good at pillow talk.”

  The days passed and their destination drew closer, until finally Ansaria and her squad were called to see Xandarius. They took a lift to one of the many briefing rooms aboard the ship and when they arrived, Xandarius, Fornost, Administrator Epsilon, and a few individuals Ansaria did not recognize were waiting for them.

  “Excellent, now that you’re here, we can begin,” said Xandarius. He gestured to one of the unknown individuals. “My technicians have been working diligently to create a connection with Bronze that is both secure and isolated, just in case our…ally proves to have ulterior motives. Another team is working on the asteroid to complete the connection, and once we arrive, which we should shortly, we’ll be able to communicate with the A.I.”

  It was a short wait indeed. Just as Ansaria was staring to get a little fidgety, a ship-wide announcement declared that they were exiting Z-space. The technicians scrambled to ensure everything was in working order, and when they indicated they were ready, Xandarius gestured to a screen on the wall. Everyone present turned toward it as a face appeared.

  The technician on the screen was wearing a visor, but the visible skin led Ansaria to believe he was the same species as Galla, the young man she had fought beside and failed to save on Brakka.

  “Connection reading one hundred percent, transferring signal.”

  The image was suddenly replaced by the familiar luminous red screen and single, black eye of BRONZE. It was only once the A.I’s visage appeared that Ansaria realized that the display was the same trapezoid shape as the monitor on the asteroid.

  “Connection established, ready to comply,” came the deep, synthetic voice. The sound seemed to fill the room in the same way it had filled the chamber.

  “Very good,” said Xandarius, his gaze fixed on the lone eye. “Have you completed your assigned task?”

  If there was a delay in BRONZE’s response, it was not present through the connection.

  “Affirmative. I have used my connections to the Imperium’s network to dispatch a message to the Golden Emperor. It required several verifications from their end, but ultimately they agreed to the chosen meeting place. Given the speed of Imperium super-luminal travel and their departure point, they should reach the location shortly after you.”

  “And they’ll be traveling alone? I don’t want to be walking into another trap you’re involved with.” Xandarius’ eyes never left the screen.

  “It was a contentious subject with the Golden Imperials, but yes, there will be only one vessel.”

  “Good. And you will be able to connect with the Imperium ship, even with the firewalls we have set up?”

  “Your technicians have ensured that I am only prohibited from accessing Xenlongian networks, aside from this one.”

  “Then now we wait,” said Xandarius. “I shall conduct these negotiations from the bridge.” With that, Xandarius stalked over to the lift, along with Fornost and Epsilon. Ansaria gestured to her squad and they filed back into the transport.

  When Ansaria and her squad reached the bridge, they found the atmosphere to be charged with uncertainty and apprehension. The crewmembers were all at their posts, but Ansaria saw them all exchanging glances with one another. Xandarius was sitting on his throne, flanked on either side by the guard captain and the administrator. Ansaria led her squad behind and to the side of Xandarius’ throne, so as to allow everyone a chance to see.

  Xandarius turned to address the bridge crew. “Now remember everyone, we are technically meeting to discuss a truce, so I want all weapons powered down, but put shields at maximum, and make sure we maintain maneuvering capabilities; if things turn sour, we may need to dodge another superweapon shot.”

  As the crew scrambled to carry out Xandarius’ orders, he turned to fix his gaze on the star-filled void visible through the bridge dome. Ansaria wished she had asked Bronze on a definitive wait time or at the very least an estimate. She was just beginning to wonder if she could communicate with the A.I. via the Throneship, when an explosion of orange-yellow energy lit up the bridge.

  The pill-shaped flagship of the Golden Emperor of Infinite Starlight hung in the starscape of the dome a respectful distance from their vessel. Given their last meeting, Ansaria half expected another chilling hail before the primary weapon began to charge. This time was different, though. Instead of the unsettling voice of the Golden Emperor announcing their demise, this time the hail came through on a single channel. The communications officer (and Ansaria was pleased to see that it was the green Prizmid that had apparently recovered after accidentally being infected by Bronze), announced to them all:

  ~Incoming visual communication, sire. ~

  “Put it through,” said Xandarius, a note of something in his voice that Ansaria couldn’t decide was more exhilaration or contempt.

  A portion of the dome suddenly turned blank before an image replaced the panels. A figure was staring out at the assembled party of the bridge with a look that suggested he thought of them as if they were all something foul smelling that he needed to scrape off his boot. The figure was male, with bronze skin that had a slight metallic sheen to it, not unlike the Acropolin on the bridge. He had a full head of long, fluffy hair, as well as a large beard that reached down to his chest. All of his hair was blood red, which contrasted smartly with his skin. He wore a golden uniform that was richly made and splendidly decorated, topped with a burgundy sash that was adorned with precious stones and medals. More brilliant even than all his jewelry were his eyes, which glowed with a vibrant golden light, so luminous that it seemed to pour out of his eyes like fiery wings.

  “Mo
rtal infidels of the pretender state of Xenlong, know now that the Emperor of Infinite Starlight, King of All Stars in the Tamian Sky, the Golden Flame of Life, Death, Conquest and Creation, has chosen to speak with you himself. Mind. Your. Tongues.”

  Not very diplomatic, thought Ansaria; judging by the face Alvara made, she seemed to agree.

  The image on the screen shifted, and if Ansaria was captivated by the eyes of the Imperium spokesman, she was mesmerized by the Golden Emperor. Ansaria knew that the average Tamian, the ruling species of the Imperium, were about her size. Judging by the attendants that stood attentively next to their ruler, the Golden One was three times their size, meaning he would have towered over Xandarius had this meeting been in person. But it wasn’t the size of the individual that boggled Ansaria’s mind; it was the fact that his entire body was housed in a massive cloak of broiling, golden fire.

  To Ansaria, it looked as though the Golden Emperor was wearing a garment made from the living skin of a star. The crystal-clear images allowed her to see tiny solar flames lash out and curl back in. Tongues of fire flickered all over, with some of the ones coming off his shoulders appearing to be more than a foot long. A pair of eyes identical to the ones of the other Tamian peered out from beneath a blazing hood. However, the eyes were the only visible feature of the face, as everything else was a black void that, by accident or by design, was impenetrable by the golden light of his eyes or body.

  “Xandarius the Pretender Wyrm.” There it was again; that nightmarish voice of a legion of deranged souls. Ansaria had to fight not to shudder while the burning visage of the speaker could see her. “When last we encountered each other, I had you at my mercy, helpless to prevent me from completely obliterating you. It is only by chance that you managed to escape, and now here you are before me, talking of a truce?” He laughed, an insane sound that made Ansaria’s skin crawl.