by Z H Brown
As for the captain's quality time with Slog, now that the Crag had had a chance to explore the Royal Guards' armory, the two spent most of their time at the firing range, testing out the various "goodies" that it had to offer. The rest of their time had been spent in more sociable places, where he plied her with questions about where to take his long-distance beau, wondering aloud which planets and which sorts of attractions on said planets might be most appropriate and enjoyable.
“You do know that I’m not a walking, talking Newcomer’s Guide to the Empire, right? Why don’t you dig up a copy, or search the ship’s net archives, I’m sure you’d find tons of great date sights.”
“I know, ye'r right…it’s just that this is my first off-world relationship, and I’m not sure if we’re supposed to meet at a halfway point, or her homeworld or my homeworld, and I don’t even know what my homeworld is anymore; my real home is dullsville, Oasis is a single town in the middle of the desert, and this will be only the second time that I’ve been to Xenlong but I’ve spent most my time aboard this ship and the Firestorm and I'm--”
“Take a breath, Slogulus,” said Ansaria with a laugh, patting her friend on the shoulder. “Firstly, you are way over thinking this; and secondly, complaining about a long distance relationship to a woman whose current…whatever is planning on going ancestors-know-where in who-knows-how-long for who-knows-how-long…is not going to garner much sympathy.”
Ansaria watched Slog’s face blanch like someone had just dropped a toolbox on his foot as her words hit home.
“Ah, cap, you’re right...on both accounts," he said apologetically. "Guess I’m just nervous about getting to see her again.”
Ansaria almost made a comment about how ridiculous it was that a wounded, decorated war hero was nervous about meeting a bar floozy, but amended it, and instead said, “Slog, you are a renowned war hero that is returning from a triumphant battle against an intergalactic monster; if anyone should be nervous, it’s her.”
At that, Slog had grinned thoughtfully.
Surprisingly, on this trip, Ansaria and most of her squad found that they had been placed on the guard roster, with the only one conspicuously missing from the list being Alvara. While they all grumbled at this crap-work detail, at least they each had only a single shift of guard duty during the trip. During Ansaria’s turn, she had stood in the long hallway leading toward Xandarius’ sanctum, in one of the numerous alcoves that had held other royal guards the last time she had passed through here. For hour after hour, Ansaria had stood silently, ramrod straight, with one hand on the hilt of her Star Saber and the heavy, smooth, horned helmet rendering her nearly indistinguishable from the other guards.
As the Throneship traversed the emptiness of Z-space towards Xenlong and the days seemed to merge together into a haze, Ansaria’s thoughts turned again towards Eberius. She wondered how the prince was passing the time aboard his own ship. Was he taking this opportunity to explore more of local space? If so, she hoped that he was being careful; she had seen, heard, and experienced firsthand too many occurrences of raider fleets and catastrophic equipment failure to believe that Eberius was completely out of danger, even with the Star Eater dead. She assumed that the Ebons had brought at least a few means to keep themselves entertained, but she also realized that for Eberius, fighter that he was, maybe hunting an enormous monster across the galaxy was entertainment. She wished desperately that she could contact him, but they simply didn’t possess any means of communicating in real time.
At last, after days of training and recuperating, an announcement went out that they were preparing to exit Z-space and arrive at their destination. Ansaria and her squad, who were all lounging around together in their quarters, raced over to the desk to display the images from the ship’s cameras so that they could see the arrival.
For the first few moments, all they could see was the smudgy, purple-black void of Z-space, before a pinprick of light appeared and then exploded, wiping away the nothingness of FTL travel, and revealing the capital of the Empire. Ansaria was a little surprised to see a large number of ships stationed strategically around the planet and nearby space; she had expected the security detail to be dismissed once word of the victory and Xandarius’ return had gotten out.
As Xenlong became larger and larger on their screen, all the members of Oasis squad received a message on their TIGs, telling them to report to the teleportation chamber. They gathered up their possessions, strapped their armor and weapons on, made one last cursory glance around the room, and then left.
As they made their way through the ship, every soldier they came across, whether individually or in groups, all took their possibly-final opportunity to offer their encouragement and congratulations to the heroes of the Empire. In larger numbers, they were flooded with applause and cheers, while others offered salutes, gestures of support, and even a few surprise hugs and handshakes. By the time they reached the chamber, Ansaria felt like they had met half the ship on their way there.
Fornost was waiting at the head of assembled, white-armored royal guards. The colonel, noticing their entrance, gestured for them to come towards the front, where he arrayed them with Ansaria in the middle, Alvara and Slog on one side, and Tread and Critter (on his hover-platform, which the android had brought along for him) on the other. The room was quiet, aside from the low murmurs of the working technicians as they prepared to transport the group to the planet’s surface.
Just as Ansaria was wondering how long they’d have to wait here, the doors opened once more, and a strong, golden light spilled into the room. Ansaria fought the eagerness to turn and look at Xandarius, as the guards around her remained as still as statues, waiting patiently to receive orders from their emperor. While the light grew stronger as the Emperor approached, there was no sound of the heavy, metallic footfalls that normally accompanied him; finally he came into view and Ansaria saw how he had approached silently: he was floating a foot-and-a-half off the ground, his figure towering over them even more than normal. Since the last time Ansaria had seen him, Xandarius had made a single outfit alteration. Whereas before, the emperor had worn a short cape over one arm, it had been replaced with a long cape that appeared to be made of the same energy that now suffused the Xenlongian ruler; he still wore it over one arm, but it stretched down almost to the floor and, like the Golden Emperor before him, seemed to be made from the living skin of a star. The garment shifted and broiled, with tiny lashes of golden fire snapping out before rapidly fading, emitting a stronger light than the rest of his form.
Fornost inclined his head deferentially, before stepping to the side and allowing the Emperor to take his place at the head of the assembly. As Xandarius looked over the group, his gaze briefly locked with Ansaria. While he wore the same impassable expression he had previously directed at her, there was something in his burning eyes that plucked a little twinge of uncertainty deep within the young captain. However, as their gaze was broken, the feeling passed so quickly that Ansaria was somewhat unsure that she had felt it at all. Once Xandarius appeared to be satisfied, he turned to the technicians.
“How long before we can disembark?”
The specialized workers all froze in their task while the senior member nervously answered.
“Forgive me, sire: we have to recalibrate the energy regulators to compensate for your new…accessory, Your Highness.”
While Xandarius’ visage remained unchanged, the technical specialist seemed to feel the same deep uncertainty that had struck Ansaria moments ago. He quickly wiped a hand across his forehead before continuing.
“However, we should have the problem fixed momentarily, My Lord.”
Xandarius nodded once before he withdrew his attention from the lead specialist. The next few seconds were silent; again save for the work of the teleporters. Finally, a series of beeps announced that the system was successfully updated. The lead technician turned once more towards Xandarius.
“We are ready at your leisure, sire.”<
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A satisfied smile appeared on the emperor’s face.
“Excellent; at last, I shall make my triumphant return as the new Master of the Flame!”
Once it was clear that everyone was present, the technicians began working feverishly again, before the piercing whine and bright light of the teleporter overwhelmed Ansaria’s senses and the chamber disappeared.
When her vision and hearing returned, she saw that they appeared in the same courtyard where they had last arrived on Xenlong. The quad was once again filled with white-armored Royal Guards of all sizes, but this time there were others present as well. Regular soldiers, recognizable by their iron-gray armor, jumpsuits, and dress uniforms, were crammed into every available space. Rounding out those in attendance were people who Ansaria could only surmise were civilians. She saw news crews comprised of multiple species, synthetic and organic, as well as those wearing uniforms ranging from custodians to groundskeepers; cooks, bureaucrats, and many more wearing whatever outfit or body they felt was most appropriate to welcome back their triumphant defenders.
At first, their arrival was greeted with stunned silence. After a moment, Ansaria realized that word of Xandarius claiming the Golden Flame for himself had been kept to a minimum; this was undoubtedly a complete surprise to the vast assembly.
However, this silence was quickly shattered, as the soldiers and citizens of Xenlong realized that the being before them was indeed their beloved Emperor, now more powerful than ever before. A roaring wave of cheers and cries of jubilation crashed upon the triumphant heroes. While the Royal Guards retained most of their composure, even some of them added shouts of joy and congratulations, or thrusted appendages or weapons triumphantly into the air victoriously.
Xandarius beamed at his subjects, raising his free arm to wave in acknowledgement, before beginning to glide forward toward the palace. Guard Captain Fornost led the Throneship contingent forward with crisp precision, though he was willing to turn a blind eye to those who chose to return waves or exchange handshakes with their fellows.
While the vast majority of the praise was directed at Xandarius and the group as a whole, Ansaria and her squad got more than a few personal cheers. A small knot of regular enlisted Xenlongian soldiers, all of them just a few years younger than Ansaria herself, were pressed up against the farthest row of Royal Guards, trying to get as close as they could to make their cries of ‘Dormus!’ and ‘Ansaria!’ be heard over the rest of the triumphant din. A small circular drone buzzed right up to her to deliver a Violet Moonbeam, a native Xenlongian flower with purple and white petals and a heavy, soothing fragrance. Ansaria inhaled deeply from the flower, smiling slightly as her other hand toyed with the memento on her sword. Alvara had apparently been dubbed the ‘Serpent Sharpshooter’; while more than one cry of ‘Praise Gorgon!’ could be heard. A pair of Crags stood on the shoulders of a massive, gray-plated bot, waving crude flags depicting a stylized Crag head surrounded by fire; Slog was once again beaming so brightly that his tusks were almost lying flat.
As Xandarius ascended the steps without actually touching them, and his troops followed behind him, a retinue awaited them above. Queen Zira stood at the forefront, wearing a dress of deep purple, while gems of frosted white and deep black adorned silver rings and bands on her wrists, arms and head. Next to her stood a Xenlongian male; after a moment, Ansaria realized that this was Prince Xandarian, crown prince and heir to the throne. While Xandarian looked about the same age as Colonel Fornost’s son, Ansaria knew that he was in fact four times her own age, having been born not long after Xandarius had been crowned. The prince wore a light outfit consisting of a silvery gray tunic, pants, boots and cape, along with a silver headband with a single, teardrop-shaped purple stone. Rounding out the party were Commander Fornost, Administrator Epsilon, Admiral Travay, and a contingent of Xenlongian Royal Guards.
The attention of all those present was transfixed on Xandarius. As he approached them, the glow of his fiery cape bathed all those that awaited him in a golden-orange light. As the Emperor drew closer, their eyes followed his progress entrancedly, gazing up at him in his burning, golden glory.
As Xandarius regarded those before him, he at last allowed his feet to touch the ground. The intense glow coming from his blazing garment also dimmed somewhat, so that it no longer washed over those present, instead creating a deep, golden aura around the ruler of Xenlong, like that of a candle seen through a frosted window.
Queen Zira took a step forward, as though moving to embrace her husband, but stopped suddenly, as if she were uncertain if she could touch her love without being burned. Seeing her hesitation, Xandarius stepped forward to meet her.
“You have nothing to fear, my queen,” said Xandarius, as he reached out with a golden, metallic coated hand to lightly brush her cheek. “The Flame only burns when I will it to.”
Reassured, Zira covered Xandarius’ hand with her own before looking intently into his eyes, which continued to pour forth energy.
“Xandarius,” she said, in a voice heavy with conflicting emotions. “After all this time…to finally see you like…this…” she trailed off.
“Worry not, beloved,” said Xandarius, reassuringly. “We have plenty of time for all of us to acclimate to this new reality. This is the beginning of a new era; for us, our dynasty, our planet and our empire. With this Flame in the hands of those who can wield it properly, we shall bring a peace to the galaxy that will last eons!” Smiling broadly following his proclamation, Xandarius turned to his son.
“Xandarian, it is good to see you, my boy.”
The prince bowed slightly toward his father before replying. His voice wasn’t as deep as his father's, but it carried that same confident tone that made you feel like he could conquer any problem. “It is good to see you too, father, and congratulations on your victories; defeating the Star Eater, outliving the Golden pretender and claiming the enemy's power source? Who now can deny the right of Xenlong to reign supreme over all?”
A bitter taste filled the back of Ansaria’s mouth at the prince’s words. From the way he spoke, he made it sound like Xandarius had slain the beast single-handedly, to say nothing about his hostility toward their allies in the fight.
Xandarius laughed softly at his son’s words. “Thank you son, but the victory was not mine alone, for many Xenlongian soldiers gave their lives opposing the monster, and we must never forget their sacrifice.”
Once again, Ansaria was inwardly rankled at the slight toward the Imperium, without whom victory would have been impossible. Had his new powers fried Xandarius’ brain so that he’d forgotten what BRONZE had said about neither empire being strong enough to triumph on their own? Any witness to the beast's scale and ferocity had to realize it as truth, especially their own leader.
“However, the memorial shall come after the celebration,” Xandarius turned to Epsilon. “Administrator, have the main banquet hall prepared, for tonight we shall commemorate a victory the likes of which Xenxing has not seen in a generation!”
As they had been last time, the soldiers that had accompanied Xandarius from the frontlines were taken in small groups to their quarters, while the Emperor, the Captain of the Guard, and the members of the royal assembly that had greeted them departed together deep into the palace.
Ansaria and the others were taken to a room similar to the one they had stayed in last time. Refreshments were provided for them, and once again their reputation insured that any sentient being that visited their room was almost completely star-struck. The celebratory mood that had bolstered the defenders during their journey home returned, making the rest of the day pass in an enjoyable haze of good drinks, good friends, and a chance to relax, breathe the fresh, non-recycled air, and feel real sun on their skin.
From the capital city beneath them, a dull roar of activity could be heard. Apparently, a day of celebration had been declared across the Empire, but especially within the principal city of Xenxing. Teeming masses could barely be perceive
d, congregating freely and wildly in the streets. As the sun continued on its daily path and the sky began to turn to red and orange, lights ranging from floating glow-lamps to traditional paper lanterns that adorned Xenlongian houses for time immemorial could be seen below. As the sun sank further, and the light began to diminish, fireworks were put on display, illuminating the celebrating city in bursts of silver, purple, gold and a myriad of other colors.
As twilight settled over the capital, an attendant came to fetch them. The young Xenlongian male had a noticeable flush on his face as he led them toward the banquet hall, and he was constantly throwing glances at Ansaria and Alvara. When they arrived at the entrance to the feasting area, the young man took one of each of the hands of the two women, before kissing each hand and mumbling deep thanks for everything they had done before quickly hurrying away, his face now completely red. When Alvara had shot a glance at her captain afterward, Ansaria'd had to hold back laughter at her friend's wide-eyed bewilderment.
As they entered the hall, they were somewhat surprised to see an informal party in full swing. Rather than the multiple, neatly arrayed long tables, there was only a single long table placed on a stage at head height at the far end of the room. Xandarius, his wife and son, the two Fornosts, Administrator Epsilon, Supreme Commander Eve'Rest, Admiral Travay, and (surprisingly) Admiral Venrius, were seated at the head table, with the Emperor standing out like a blazing torch, an aura of bright, flickering energy surrounding his body as he drank deeply from a large goblet and talked animatedly with his wife and the elder Fornost.
The rest of the room was a mass of soldiers from the Royal Guard, Imperial Army and Imperial Navy, some still in armor and work outfits, others wearing fatigues and dress grays. Many of those present were familiar to Ansaria and the others: she saw the Trio standing in a tight bunch, throwing back drinks in unison; Lotha was regaling a bunch of enlisted troops with an uproarious story, while the Throneship's bridge crew seemed to have each attracted their own collective of admirers, with no less than three fans to each of the Emperor’s handpicked staff. Servants, both synthetic and organic wended their way through the crowd, offering drinks and snacks to those around them. Small pedestals topped with food and drink had also been placed throughout the room, so that everyone had refreshments within reach at any moment.