Frontline

by Z H Brown

  Ansaria’s mind briefly returned to their strange saviors. They had left the xeno ships behind with the Stormfront and the others, and as far as she knew, they were shadowing the defenders as they limped back to where they currently were. She hoped that she would be kept informed when Xandarius returned.

  The wait was not a long one; a few minutes after the technician’s deceleration, Tantius, manning a console, announced:

  “Incoming object detected, but it’s not registering as any type of craft.”

  As the bridge staff exchanged confused looks, Alvara’s sharp eyes were the first to spot the approaching anomaly. She pointed at the transparent dome, at a pinprick of light, brighter than the stars around it and getting bigger and brighter by the second.

  The command crew watched in stunned silence as a golden fireball rocketed toward them. The glowing comet cast a strong light that illuminated the bridge as it rapidly approached. When it was within intercept range for the ship’s point-defense weapons, the massive pyrotechnic shrank quickly in on itself.

  When it reached the bridge, the fireball had been replaced by the fiery form of Emperor Xandarius. His Silverskin had been turned completely gold, while phantom wings of crackling energy streamed behind him. His long hair also crackled with energy, while golden light streamed from his eyes. An aura of strong, steady golden fire surrounded the Xenlongian ruler which continued to bathe the bridge in a golden glow.

  Xandarius looked upon his most loyal followers, and smiled.

  Colonel Fornost slowly raised his TIG, unwilling to look away from the divine image before him. He keyed his comm.

  “My Lord?” he asked simply. Xandarius nodded.

  “We…we could teleport you aboard, sire, provided you stay still. Or if you would prefer, we could open a nearby airlock or--”

  Fornost was cut off as Xandarius silently raised his hand. Xandarius drifted closer to the dome, before re-orientating himself so that he landed feet-first on the glass-like material. The aura on the Emperor’s feet spread out in a circle slightly larger than Xandarius himself. Then, before the disbelieving eyes, optics and sensors of all those present, Xandarius phased through the glass, drifting down towards the deck as the golden circle that had allowed his entry dissipated without a trace.

  The aura that had surrounded Xandarius disappeared as well, though the energy streaming from his back, hair and eyes remained; his armor also remained its new color. Ansaria hoped that someone would speak soon, as the anxious silence was stretching out into uncomfortable lengths.

  Thankfully, Arnor Fornost was the first to speak. “Sire, this is most…unexpected. How is this possible?”

  Xandarius once again held up a hand in response.

  “There will be time for explanations concerning my own success later, my old friend, but first congratulations are in order to you all. You not only performed admirably in my absence, you also triumphed most magnificently! Tell me, was it you, Supreme Admiral, that concocted the plan that led us to victory, or did Captain Dormus pull another miracle out of her field kit?”

  Xandarius looked from Fornost, to Eve’Rest, to Ansaria, waiting for an explanation. When the neither of the two senior officers spoke, Ansaria decided to step up once more.

  “Forgive me, Your Highness, but while our efforts, and those of the Imperium played a part in the defeat of the Star Eater, we would likely not have been successful without some… outside help.”

  Xandarius eyes narrowed in comprehension. The presence of energy streaming from his eyes created an effect that Ansaria did not find very inspiring.

  “BRONZE?” asked Xandarius, his voice almost a growl.

  “No, sire.”

  Xandarius crossed his arms, golden metal flexing and gleaming in the light. “Please explain, captain.”

  Ansaria hurriedly recounted the surprise appearance of the black ships, as well as the beast’s final destruction, before concluding with their insistence that their leader speak with him.

  Xandarius nodded his head absently as he listened. When Ansaria had finished, Xandarius turned to look out of the bridge dome. His enhanced eyes picked out the mystery ships, despite their minimal warning lights making them almost invisible against the blackness. After a moment’s contemplation, he turned back to his soldiers.

  “Very well; I shall speak with our unknown allies and thank them for their… timely intervention.” He gestured at Diamond. “Comm. Officer, open a channel with the xeno fleet, and broadcast the exchange throughout our forces,” he flexed one of his metallic covered hands, and golden fire burst from his fist. “Let them hear that their Emperor has returned.”

  A moment later:

  ~Done, sire.~

  Xandarius turned once more, so that it seemed like he was addressing the ships face-to-face. In a loud, clear, voice, he said:

  “Xeno vessels, this is Emperor Xandarius, sovereign ruler of the Xenlongian Empire and wielder of the Golden Flame. You have my appreciation and gratitude for the aid you rendered, but I must ask you to identify yourselves immediately.”

  The reply was so late coming that at first, Ansaria was worried Xandarius had somehow offended or frightened the aliens. Gratitude was all well and good, but demanding information was a bit much from the people that had just helped save their galaxy as they knew it.

  When the leader of the black ships finally did respond, it was with the last voice Ansaria had ever expected to hear. As soon as she heard it, she felt like she had been struck by a thunderbolt out of the blue. She was vaguely aware of Alvara and Slog looking at her with surprised expressions of their own, but she was too immersed in her own shock to acknowledge them.

  “Greetings Emperor Xandarius of Xenlong, this is Prince Eberius of the Ebon Empire Expeditionary Forces.”

  Book III

  Frontline

  Corruption

  Chapter XXXIV

  Fallout

  Father,

  I know by the time you read this, I will have already returned home and regaled you with a retelling of these events myself. Likewise, you will undoubtedly receive the same information from mission reports and testimonials from myself and the others. However, something compels me to keep a chronicle as our people enter into what is sure to be an…interesting future.

  --From the private log of Prince Eberius, Fourth of His Name, Crown Prince of the Ebon Empire.

  Ansaria was vaguely aware that she was the center of attention for everyone on the bridge. Slog and Alvara were looking at her with expressions that probably mirrored her own, while Xandarius, Fornost and Eve’Rest were all looking intently at her; it wasn’t surprising to her that the Captain of the Royal Guard and the Supreme Admiral of the Imperial Fleets were aware of Eberius’ existence, as the Emperor likely filled them in on Ansaria’s entire story.

  Even the bridge crew had picked up on the fact that Ansaria knew the identity of the supposedly unknown xenos that had just saved at least two (or rather three) interstellar civilizations. Ranyor the helmsman was looking over his shoulder at the assembled soldiers, his lower arms holding the ship steady while his upper arms pensively rubbed his reptilian chin. Greened-skinned scientist Dr. Redavere exchanged questioning glances with the bronze-sheened Heronatus, personal historian of Xandarius. Xior, the insectoid navigator, rubbed his spiky forearms together and clicked his mandibles in puzzlement. Even Tantius paused from his eternal tinkering with the Throne Lancer’s firing mechanism to peer at the war hero with an unblinking gaze.

  On her part, the Xenlongian woman was finally beginning to recover from the shock of reuniting with Eberius in the absolute last place she expected to. She shook off enough malaise to address Xandarius.

  “I wish I had more information for you, sire, but this is just as much a surprise to me as it is for you. I told you everything I knew after the encounter, and I had no reason to suspect that there were additional xeno ships present.”

  Xandarius was looking at her so intently, that, with his new, incredible powe
rs and gleaming, golden eyes, Ansaria felt like he could literally burn a hole in her with his gaze. To her still-slightly off-kilter mind, the thought was both hilarious, and horrifying. Thankfully, Xandarius replied in a tone free of recriminations.

  “Indeed, I believe you did, Captain. Truthfully, it was the expression on your face that convinced me that you had been telling the truth, though we will have to have a future discussion about your…omissions.”

  Before Ansaria could reply, Xandarius addressed the Ebon fleet.

  “Prince Eberius, your reputation has preceded you somewhat, although I must admit you seem to have more knowledge of me than I do of you.”

  “Ah…then might I presume that you have a Captain Ansaria Dormus with you?”

  The tone of his voice was confident, somewhat casual, but there was also just a barely perceptible air of concern detectable, as though some part of him was worried his presumption would be wrong.

  “Indeed she is, and I’d be happy to arrange a reunion between the two of you – after you’ve surrendered your ships and your crews into our custody until such time as we’ve determined your purpose and intentions here.”

  The attention snapped to Xandarius in the blink of an eye. Everyone present was now looking incredulously at their Emperor, as though he’d asked them all to march out the air lock.

  Colonel Fornost gestured to the telepathic, cybernetic communications officer. Diamond muted their end of the conversation, while keeping the channel open.

  “Sire,” despite the Ebon fleet being unable to hear him, Arnor still spoke in a sharp whisper, as if he didn’t want his outburst to be heard by the crew and soldiers. “Forgive my impertinence, but what possible cause do you have for holding these beings in custody?”

  If Ansaria felt like she had been under a burning gaze before, then Fornost must have felt actual heat from Xandarius’ look, judging by the sweat breaking out across his brow. As a matter of fact, the entire bridge had suddenly become uncomfortably warm; Ansaria tugged at the collar of her breastplate, feeling like she was back on Oasis.

  It was clear what the source of the temperature increase was. Despite his expression remaining unchanged, and the fire coursing over his body continued its writhing dance unaltered, the heat couldn’t have come from anywhere but the newly-empowered Emperor.

  As quickly as the heat had come on, it disappeared. Xandarius blinked twice, as though mentally composing himself, before answering his long-time ally.

  “While it is true that their aid was crucially invaluable, the simple truth is that we have no clue what these aliens’ motives and allegiances are. While they may have opposed the Star Eater, their sudden timing and appearance, as well as their clear interest and access to Imperial information, is highly suspect.” He suddenly pointed out of the dome. At first, Ansaria thought he was pointing at the Ebon ships, but when she actually looked at what he was pointing at, she saw it was toward the mass of Imperial and Imperium ships, now divided into two, distinct groups. Every now and then, small flashes of bright and dull light indicated new arrivals coming in from somewhere in the system. “And let us not forget, that just as we allied with the Imperium against a common foe, it is possible that this Ebon Empire is an enemy of the Imperium, making us a potential target for any of the undoubtedly countless enemies the Imperium has created as it enslaved worlds and oppressed civilizations. What if they have sworn a vendetta against the Golden Emperor - whose power now has passed to me, which could make me their new target?”

  Ansaria couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Before Fornost or Eve’Rest could offer their own retorts, Ansaria stepped forward.

  “Your Majesty, caution is an understandable approach, but this borders on paranoid madness!”

  As soon as she had said it, she wished she had phrased it better. A look that created a blossom of fear deep in Ansaria’s stomach passed over Xandarius’ face like a shadow made by a particularly volatile flickering flame.

  “What I mean to say, sire, is that while it is true that there are a lot of unknowns we are still dealing with, we need to be cooperate with those that helped us if we want to learn anything from them.”

  A more thoughtful look appeared on the Emperor’s visage. Fornost breathed a quiet sigh of relief at the young captain’s quick thinking. However, before the matter could be discussed further, Communications Officer Diamond interrupted.

  ~Forgive me, My Lord, but the Ebon Prince is requesting, quite strongly, for a resumption of communication, and I have communication requests from Minor Stellar Admiral Dargol and Administrator Epsilon on behalf of Her Majesty, the Queen.~

  Xandarius passed a hand over his face, and once again looked like he was mentally arguing with himself. Concern awakened with Ansaria; was the Flame already beginning to cause him problems?

  “Very well, Captain Dormus; given your history with the prince, as well as your fervent belief in cooperation, then you shall negotiate with this Ebon Empire on my behalf. You are to ascertain their purpose here, and whether they constitute a threat to the Empire or Our interests. And I expect you to remember where your loyalties lie when it comes to the former, are we clear?”

  Ansaria was taken aback by the clear distrust Xandarius was displaying. Likewise, Alvara and Slog both looked like they had just witnessed their C.O. being dishonorably discharged. Ansaria swallowed hard to avoid showing just how much the suspicion stung. She stood ramrod straight and saluted.

  “I shall do my duty, for the good of Xenlong, her empire, and her citizens.” Xandarius nodded, seemingly satisfied and gestured toward the comm. officer. “Inform the prince that Captain Ansaria and a small accompanying squad will be dispatched via shuttle to conduct negotiations on My behalf. Then, connect Me with Shield Fleet, and inform Minor Admiral Dargol I shall speak with him momentarily.”

  Taking that to mean she was dismissed, Ansaria bowed slightly towards Xandarius before turning on her heel and marching smartly towards the transport, one hand gripping the hilt of her sword tightly, Slog and Alvara following quickly behind her.

  The first few minutes of the ride was spent in silence. Ansaria was absently toying with the strip of cloth tied to her weapon, trying very hard not to think about just how hard her heart was beating. Slog was typing away furiously on his TIG, his brow furrowed in concentration, while Alvara was apparently looking at the readout showing their progress through the ship, while in actuality surreptitiously watching Ansaria to see how she was doing. To break the silence, she asked:

  “I wonder why we have to take a shuttle instead of teleporting?”

  Ansaria latched onto the question as a way to distract herself. “With how paranoid Xandarius was acting, he’s probably afraid that doing so will give away the tactical surprise that we have it.”

  “What if they already know we have it? Then this whole thing’s just a waste of time.”

  Ansaria laughed, a little bitterly. “Then once again it’s a shame they don’t pay us by the hour.”

  This got a laugh out of the others, and the rest of the ride was a bit less tense than it had been after leaving the bridge. Slog finally finished his correspondence just before they arrived at the hangar.

  “Let me guess Slog, that novel you were writing was for your new girl?”

  “There’s no getting anything by you, Cap'n. I started writing her after that giant bastich finally burned to a crisp, but I didn’t get a chance to finish it before we got called to the bridge.”

  Their conversation was ended by the sight awaiting them in the hangar: a male Xenlongian Royal Guard was standing not far from the transport. He held his horned helmet in one hand against his hip, while behind him stood four other Royal Guards. Ansaria and her troops saluted as they reached the group, which the Guardsman returned.

  “Colonel Fornost informed us that you were being sent to parley with the xeno fleet, and with your squad incomplete, he has dispatched these four to accompany you three.”

  Ansaria nodded in understandin
g before peering around the guard at the four. One of them was, too her surprise, a Zeta droid, although apparently a much more advanced one; it was sleeker but still heavily armored. It was encased in the same bone white armor as the rest of the Royal Guard, except for its narrow arm cannon, which was a deep purple. Next to the Zeta droid was a Xenlongian, a female, judging by height and build. Behind them was a shorter guard carrying what looked like a souped-up particle beam rifle. Rounding out the group was a striking individual who, rather than two thick horns protruding from the back of the helmet, had two thin, curving horns coming from its forehead. Its arms were also heavy; looking like bone cudgels that drooped down to its knees.

  Undeniably, it was an impressive group; not overly aggressive looking, but definitely not a collection of beings someone would antagonize lightly.

  “Be sure and thank the colonel for me, Guardsman,” said Ansaria. The guard saluted, before stepping aside and walking toward the transport.

  “Squad,” said Ansaria sharply, and the assembled soldiers stood even straighter. “Move out.”

  The four fell into step behind Slog and Alvara, as the six followed their captain toward the waiting Harbinger craft. The landing ramp was lowered for them, and as Ansaria boarded the vessel, she saw their pilot, an icthyian species with an aquatic breathing apparatus around its neck, identical to the one she had seen on Myrthal. The pilot spoke in an unintelligible bubbling sound that was translated as telling them to take a seat and strap in.

  They did so as the landing ramp closed and a dim light illuminated the cramped ship. The group was sitting in a single row, and as they lifted off and entered the void of space, slight turbulence caused the wide shoulder pads of the Zeta droid to painfully poke Alvara and the shorter biped (a Mandorian, as Ansaria discovered when he took off his helmet to fiddle with it briefly.)

  The ride was swift and spent in silence. The brief distractions that had allowed Ansaria to calm down somewhat were forgotten as her heart began to beat harder and faster. Within her gloves, her hands began to sweat an uncomfortable amount, and she worried that if she kept tugging on the cloth tied to her sword that it was going to tear.