by Z H Brown
Alvara, separated from her best friend by Slog and surrounded by strangers, was unable to comfort Ansaria. While she didn’t believe that the Ebon fleet was the potential enemy that Xandarius made them out to be, she would have been lying if she said she wasn’t at least a little bit worried about the meeting that was to come.
The troop transport didn’t have any windows or view ports, so the squad within couldn’t see the flat, blade-shaped ships of varying sizes that they flew past towards the Prince’s ship. As they reached the command ship, the Harbinger craft entered into a hangar a quarter of the size of the one they had left aboard the Throneship.
As the craft came to a shuddering, settling rest, and Ansaria and the others began unlocking their restraints, her heart somehow began to beat even faster. She licked her lips, and found that she was desperately thirsty.
The ramp before them lowered to allow them out, and the first thing they noticed was a soft light, somehow simultaneously bright and dim, flooding into the craft, transforming their armor from white to cerulean. The second thing they noticed was the welcoming committee. A dozen individuals stood awaiting them: six of the heavy armored soldiers of the class that Ansaria and the others had fought alongside at Refueling Outpost 17-B, and behind them six soldiers wearing similar, but lighter armor accented with blue markings. The six hulking troops were equipped with the same, blocky, double-barreled rifles they had used at the outpost, while the rest were equipped with side-arms, all in their holsters.
One of the heavy troopers stepped forward, and it was then that Ansaria realized something: the last time Ansaria had encountered these soldiers, their armor had been a solid mass of black, with no ranking indicators or other emblems or images. Yet, this individual had three, soft blue marks gleaming slightly in the shape of a pointless triangle. Ansaria wondered if the markings had been there last time, only invisible outside of this light-source. She noticed that the markings on the lighter-armed soldiers was the same dully-gleaming blue, and wondered the same of those.
“Greetings, Captain Dormus,” said the soldier. Ansaria couldn’t be sure if she recognized the voice or not, so she was uncertain if they had met previously. “His Highness, Prince Eberius, the fourth of his name, bids you welcome to the Cerulean Spear. If you’ll follow me, the Prince is waiting.”
Ansaria nodded and, with her squad behind her, followed their guide deeper into the ship. The assembled welcoming party split down the middle to allow them to pass, moving with a silent precision that Ansaria found impressive. The layout wasn’t dissimilar to a standard Xenlongian war vessel save for the blue light and different proportions; Ansaria and a few of the others had to duck to pass through some the bulkheads, but as the heavily armored soldiers weren’t much smaller than Ansaria, and the ship seemed designed to accommodate them, most of the passageways were of comfortable size (indeed, it was the other Xenlongian and horned guard that had the most difficulty, as she had to stoop almost to the waist, while he had to pass through with his heavy knuckles dragging across the deck.)
As they walked the winding interior of the ship, they passed through corridor after corridor of sealed bulkheads. Finally, they reached what appeared to be a waiting area where two long, comfortable-looking couches were built directly into the walls and floor. Here, their guide turned to address them.
“I’m afraid your squad must remain here, Captain Dormus. His Highness wishes to speak with you alone.”
Ansaria nodded in understanding before gesturing to her troops to be at ease. Just as she was about to take a step forward, the Ebon warrior continued.
“I’ll also need you to relinquish your rifle, though you may keep your sword,” Ansaria noticed his head tilt slightly, and she guessed that he was glancing at the cloth on her hilt. She nodded once more before taking her weapon off her back and handing it over. The guard affixed it securely to his armor before leading her through another closed bulkhead.
They entered a room identical to the one they just left, except this one was slightly occupied. Flanking the sealed entrance at the end of the room were two more ebony figures, these with blade-shaped markings on their breastplates and helmets, both holding the standard issue, blocky rifles.
“Please remain here while I announce your presence.”
With that, her guide entered into the next room, the door opening and closing too quickly for Ansaria to see anything inside except the ever-present blue.
Left alone with the silent sentinels (something that seemed to be happening to her a lot these days,) her mind cast about absently, too distracted by everything to be occupied by any one thought. That was, until she noticed the state of her armor. The truth was, with her focus being solely on the defeat of the Star Eater, she had started to neglect the little things that military life otherwise enforced. She couldn’t remember the last time she had given her armor a proper cleaning, and as she looked it over, she noticed food stains, grease and oil smudges, and minor scuffs and blemishes that came with her line of work.
As she started scrubbing at a particularly big splotch with her thumb, she also realized that she couldn’t remember the last time she had had a wash; one day? Two days? Three? For that matter, how long had it been? With the battle unfolding in real time, there had been little need to keep an eye on the time, which meant Ansaria had no idea how long it had been since the operation had started. Beneath her excitement and anxiousness she felt exhaustion and extreme hunger, but she knew that this was as much a toll of the fighting as being a true indicator of her status.
Just as she finished removing a smear of yellowish-brown grease, the door slid open and her guide returned.
“You may enter, captain.”
Taking a deep breath before squaring her shoulders, Ansaria marched confidently into the next room. She took in the surroundings quickly; it was clearly someone’s private quarters, but it seemed awfully small and sparse to be the Prince's. A bed took up the far end of the room, surrounded by shelves built directly into the ship and filled with physical books, curious glowing devices and a smattering of random objects. A desk made up of heavy, black metal took up the majority of the right hand wall, upon which a small, portable computer with a high-contrast, dark-blue and bright-white holographic display was active. The rest of the surface was taken up by documents, electronic tablets, and a book lying open next to the computer. A small loveseat was, again, built into the ship, with two flat counters on each end.
Eberius was standing next to his desk chair, one hand resting on the furniture, the other placed on his hip. His cape dangled behind him, a familiar torn hem clearly visible.
The two stood there for a few moments, neither one certain about what to say at their unexpected reunion. Eberius was the first to break the silence.
“Congratulations on the promotion; I saw a recording of the ceremony while we were still in Xenlongian territory.”
“Thanks,” said Ansaria smiling. “Though I suppose what I owe you the most thanks for the thoroughly unexpected assistance.”
Eberius laughed and nodded. "However briefly, it was good to fight together again." This helped to ease some of the tension, but it was clear there was still much to say.
“I’m sorry about Xandarius,” she said, deciding to tackle the most pressing matter. “He wants to protect his people more than anything, and unfortunately, recent events have made him more…suspicious of outsiders.”
Eberius nodded. “I understand his reasoning, but at the same time, I cannot submit to his demands.”
Ansaria sighed. “I figured as much. I’m willing to tell him that, but at the same time, if you want to avoid a potential war starting here, then you need to give me something that I can take back to my emperor.”
Eberius thoughtfully cupped his helmeted chin with one hand. He mulled this over for a few seconds before deciding. He gestured toward the sofa.
“Very well then; if we are to speak, then let us sit.”
Ansaria gratefully sat on the dark, uphol
stered furniture. She took her Star Saber off her hip and placed it across her knees.
“I hope you understand that there are many things that I cannot tell you at the moment. I am bound by oaths of secrecy-" as he spoke, Eberius' obscured gaze moved to the captain's hands as they began to fiddle with a familiar strip of cloth hanging from her sword's hilt. Though he didn't pause in his speech for a moment, his eyes softened as he noticed how frayed the once-fine fabric had become, and he was glad his helmet completely obscured his face- "in service to my king, my father, my people, and my civilization.” How much of that fraying, he wondered, was due to battle, and how much could be attributed to the way she subconsciously weaved and twisted it between her ivory fingers?
Ansaria nodded in sympathetic understanding, and he continued.
“Several generations ago, my people received a…vague warning concerning the arrival of a monster: a leviathan from across the dark sea between galaxies. If left unchecked, this beast would be the doom of our empire and our galaxy.”
“Did you hear all this from an A.I.?” asked Ansaria, thinking of BRONZE and wondering if perhaps, he had not been the first of his kind to seek extragalactic assistance.
It was impossible for her to see Eberius’ face, but years in the military had made her good at reading the body language of people in full armor. Eberius was frozen, torn in silent inner discussion.
“No, our intel definitely did not come from an A.I.”
“Did it come from travelers from the same galaxy as the Star Eater?”
Eberius laughed. “Why Captain Dormus, this is quickly starting to sound like an interrogation.”
She mentally kicked herself and shut her eyes in embarrassment.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just that there’s still so much that I’m trying to make sense of.”
Eberius reached out as though to place his hand on her arm, but thought otherwise and placed it instead on his knee.
“And I shall be… as forthcoming as I am able.”
Ansaria chuckled and shook her head, finding some amusement in the aggravating tension, and then nodded at him to continue.
“Eventually, signs pertaining to the dragon’s arrival were witnessed, and I was given the task of finding when and where it would reach our galaxy. As I said, the information we received had been vague; we knew somewhat what to look out for, but on the whole my task force was charged with scouting unfamiliar space, home to possibly hostile civilizations, to somehow ascertain the location of an extragalactic threat.
“I was given strict instructions to keep information on my people and the location of our territory to a bare minimum. My father did not want to risk possibly leading would-be conquerors straight to our doorstep, so we were to keep our presence secret and only reveal ourselves when absolutely necessary. We were given enough to sustain us in the field for a decent length, but eventually we ran into a fuel problem, which is what led to our meeting.”
Ansaria felt like he was smiling beneath his helmet. A question burned inside her, but she bit her tongue. However, the frown forming on her face did not go unnoticed by Eberius.
“I can see you desperately wish to ask something, so please do.”
She took a breath. “Your fleet was sent to find the Star Eater, but what about the rest of the Ebon forces? Were they planning on joining you out here, or are they readying the defenses at home?”
She knew it was a question that came dangerously close to violating Eberius’ secrecy, but she hoped he could give her something that would placate Xandarius.
“My force was deemed sufficient enough to engage in long-range reconnaissance, and could engage the beast if we discovered it and felt like we could handle it. Otherwise, we were to immediately return home, while leaving a few ships behind to continue gathering information, and rendezvous with the rest of our forces. Whether we would have waited for the creature to come to us or depart and take the battle to it would have depended upon our intel and the whim of my king.”
Ansaria felt some of the tension leave her body; here was something she could tell her emperor to help him see that the need to impound the Ebon fleet was unfounded and possibly dangerous.
“But now, our great fleet is unneeded to solve this crisis, thanks to you, Ansaria.” As her face grew warm, Ansaria wondered if she would ever grow accustomed to these sorts of thanks. Wondering if her rosy-magenta flushed cheeks were noticeable in the blue light, she brushed it off.
“I was just the messenger; Agent Rall was the one who uncovered the plot.”
“True, but you also faced challenges and dangers that were too much for entire armies and came out alive, with your squad intact, and your mission a success.” Now he really did reach out and place his hand on her arm.
“I’ve known many remarkable women; ordinary citizens, soldiers, courtesans: all incredible in their own ways…but never before have I met anyone like you, Ansaria.”
She stared into the glowing eyes of his helmet, her heart hammering in her chest in a way completely different from the way it did on the battlefield.
“Can you…are you forbidden from taking off your helmet?”
His hand lifted from her arm and was nearly unclasping the seals before they stopped for a moment, as if halted by some last hesitation. Then it passed and he lifted his black helmet from his head.
His skin was only a few shades off from his armor: a shiny black like that of an iron meteorite that survived falling through a thick atmosphere but was completely scorched. His head was completely bare and had been shined to a point that the blue light gleamed off of it like an azure halo. He had a short, wiry, ash-gray beard that covered his chin. His eyes were the same light, effervescent blue as those of his helmet, which was what surprised Ansaria most of all.
She leaned in closer to see if his eyes really were glowing or if it was a trick of the light.
Nope, they were glowing.
“Your eyes…are very beautiful.”
A smile crossed his lips and his eyes crinkled. “As are yours.”
She was very aware of how close to each other they were, and that this could all get very complicated, very fast. As a thought crossed her mind, she pulled back.
“How long before you have to leave?”
The question surprised him, but he recovered and answered quickly.
“Now that my own mission is complete, I am obliged to return to my home and report our victory to my king. Additionally, the trip will take many weeks with our FTL, and my troops and ship’s crews are eager to begin the journey.”
Ansaria’s heart fell in her chest.
“But I feel as though events are not yet complete here. Our alliance, impromptu and fleeting as it was, was instrumental in the defeat of our adversary. Without the assistance of your people and the Starlite Imperium, It may have cost us our entire navy to slay the monster ourselves, and that’s assuming our entire navy was up to the task; and there’s no telling how many worlds and possibly stars it could have consumed between the time we found it and the time we actually engaged it in pitched battle. Given that I make the final call, I am certain that both my father and my troops will understand if I decide to remain here for the time being.”
A smile blossomed across Ansaria’s face. “I’m glad to hear that.”
Before she could say anything else, her comm. began beeping and her smile faded. “Pardon me a moment-" she glanced at him fleetingly, "your highness.”
Her awkward emphasis on his title made him smile ruefully. She answered the call.
~Captain Dormus, His Highness requests you return to the Throneship; His Majesty wishes to depart for Xenlong as soon as possible.~
Disappointment at her time with Eberius being cut so short momentarily washed over her, before it was tramped down by her sense of duty.
“Acknowledged, Throneship; we’ll leave immediately. Captain Dormus, out.”
From the look on Eberius’ face, he was as disappointed at her early departure
as she was. As Ansaria stood up and reattached her sword to her hip, the Prince absently turned his helmet over in his hands, standing as well.
“I like what you did with my gift,” he blurted out. She looked down at the dangling fabric and smiled.
“It’s been a…comforting reminder that the universe isn’t all crazy machines and galaxy-ending monsters.” She paused for a moment, glancing away and then back, before adding (hopefully not too quickly, she hoped,) “since you brought it up, what did you do with--”
Before she could finish, he detached a container from his belt. He opened it, and pulled out a small satchel, deep, midnight-blue. He opened it and pulled out the lock of her black hair, still tied by the strip of fabric from his own cape.
“I hope to find a way of displaying it more prominently once I get home, but for now I too have found it a source of comfort.”
Ansaria smiled again and felt pleasant warmth fill her chest and cheeks. While they were both aware that she needed to leave, she made no move toward the exit, and he did nothing to escort her out. They both stood there, enjoying the moment, but painfully aware every second was borrowed time.
Eberius suddenly stepped forward and gently but firmly took Ansaria’s hand in his own and brought it up so he could bring his lips to it.
“Ansaria, when I left home, I thought that the only thing I would find would be horror, terror and death. Instead, I have met a woman who not only saved my life, but possibly my entire people. For that alone, you shall always hold a special place in my heart, no matter what might come next for us or our empires.”
As Eberius released her hand and straightened, he was stunned when Ansaria suddenly and emphatically leaned down to pressed her lips against his.
The embrace was brief, but from the look on their faces, enjoyable by both parties. Ansaria chuckled.