Frontline

by Z H Brown

  “His Majesty will see you now,”

  Ansaria, gripping her sword hilt and the familiar ribbon to steel herself, strode into the dim room. The only light came from Xandarius’ ever-present aura, which was obscured by his high-backed throne, leaving an illuminated island in a sea of dark. Her boot-steps echoed through the quiet chamber, and at last when she had reached a respectful distance from her ruler and dropped to one knee, the hard armor let out a resounding ‘crack’ that reverberated throughout the chamber for far longer than Ansaria expected. As she waited to be acknowledged, she was close enough to make out the crackle of the Flame, burning quietly like a well-fed torch. After several moments, Xandarius spoke.

  “Whatever it is you have to say, captain, I suggest you say it quickly,” his tone was far more cross than Ansaria had ever heard before, and for a moment, she wondered if she should try this again after the Emperor had had time to cool from his ‘discussion’ with the captain of his guard. However, she remembered that Xandarius himself had imposed a two-day deadline on his mad demand, which meant that time was a commodity she did not have. Swallowing and taking a breath to steady herself, she said:

  “Forgive my intrusion, sire, as well as my impertinence, but I must know: how can you demand this of our allies who shed blood with us in battle and sacrificed their very lives to save our galaxy?”

  With Xandarius’ back to her, Ansaria couldn’t see exactly what, if anything, the Emperor was doing; he was silent for several seconds, and she had no idea if he was considering her words and composing a response, or was occupied with something else while they spoke. Finally, he did reply.

  “I invited the Imperium and the Ebon Empire to discuss an alliance precisely because I know that if it had only been our people at the battle, that beast would have incinerated the lot of us and gorged itself on that star,” his throne suddenly swung around, and Ansaria was able to see what was preoccupying the Emperor’s attention: a projected screen that depicted the luminous star at the heart of the system, the star that had consumed the corpse of the Star Eater. “I extended an offer of alliance to the others, because it was clear that alone, the brave defenders of Xenlong would be unable to stave off another inevitable attack; whether the threat comes to us, or we find it, there will be another danger of this magnitude, and the only way we will survive, is by utilizing every single resource that we can muster, including allies.”

  This all made sense to Ansaria (after all, she had been saying pretty much the same thing ever since the meeting with Bronze), but that just made her even more confused. “I’m sorry, sire, but I still don’t understand: if an alliance is exactly what you want, then why demand fealty from-”

  “Because my offer of alliance was met with halfhearted promises and threats of war!”

  Xandarius’ anger suddenly flared to life, along with his powers: his aura blazed brighter, and he glowed with a golden fire that made even the star on the screen seem dim by comparison. For the first time, Ansaria felt very real fear at being in the Emperor’s presence, but he regained some of his control, and his flame dimmed to its normal level.

  “Prince Gamesh, can’t even maintain control of his own empire, and will likely either be replaced or forced to declare war in order to stay in power,” The Emperor’s voice was more even, but it was clear that an intense rage burned beneath the surface. “His hold on power is too tenuous to place faith in, and the only hope he has to maintain his rule and his civilization is with our help, and I will not send Xenlongian troops to safeguard the rule of a Golden Prince, without guarantee that his forces will be at the disposal of a coalition forces,” he sneered. “Although, it’s far more likely that some fundamentalist will seize power with the promise of crushing the ‘Pretender Wyrm’ and reclaiming the Golden Flame for the Imperium,” he clenched his fist, which became engulfed in a fireball. “Neither of which I would ever allow to happen. And as for your Prince Eberius, the only thing he can promise is that he will bring the matter to the attention of his daddy, but by his own admission, the only reason he and his fleet is out here is because they were looking for the Star Eater; likely, his father will consider us too remote to bother with, and will instead hunker down in his own domain until the next threat arrives.”

  Ansaria’s head seemed to spin as the Emperor explained his reasoning. While she could sympathize with his goals, and understood his conjecture, she simply couldn’t accept his insistence that he be the one in charge.

  “I’m sorry, sire, but I still don’t understand: there is no immediate threat, do we not have the luxury of allowing diplomacy to smooth out the rough edges before we can form a cohesive fighting force? And why must they submit to you personally?”

  Xandarius regarded her with his glowing eyes as though he was preparing to incinerate her on the spot. For a moment, Ansaria thought he was going to refuse to answer her, but he finally did.

  “We discovered the A.I.’s machinations by a string of fortuitous circumstances. Without Jandor Rall or yourself, we wouldn’t have known about the invasion until it was too late, and then, sooner or later, it would have attacked us…if we hadn’t already been destroyed by that damn machine. I will not allow the safety and future of my empire to depend on fortune and accident; I will unify these factions into a single army, and I will do it, because I have proven, time and again, that I, and MY empire are the greatest hope for civilization in the galaxy: I proved it halting by the Imperium, I proved by forging the alliance that killed the creature, and I proved it by taking the source of my greatest enemy’s power, and I will use that power to guide and protect all worlds, whether they want my help of not,” his throne rotated so that his back was once again to Ansaria. “Does that answer your questions, Captain Dormus?”

  Ansaria was so taken aback by the Emperor’s egocentric rant that she was too stunned to answer. With a shake of her head, she regained her wits.

  “Forgive me for intruding, Your Majesty, and thank you for your time.”

  He dismissed her with a wordless wave of his hand. She bowed lower briefly before rising and leaving with even more doubt and questions than when she had arrived.

  After her conversation with Xandarius, Ansaria’s head was a whirlwind of uncertainty. While at first she had intended to return to her squad, she instead found herself aimlessly wandering the Throneship, desperate to make sense of the Emperor’s sudden, hardline stance. After traversing several corridors and taking random lifts to random floors, Ansaria finally made up her mind about what to do. After making a few calls and squaring away everything with her destination, she took a lift to the teleport chamber.

  There was only a single technician on duty when she arrived, and he was casually reading a holozine with one foot up on the control panel. He was so engrossed in his reading that he didn’t even hear Ansaria enter the large room.

  “Interesting article?” she laughed as the young Xenlongian jumped, but it did little to ease the tension that seemed to rage like a thunderstorm within her.

  “Forgive me, I wasn’t expecting anyone-” he suddenly realized who he was talking to, and his face flushed. “Oh! Captain Dormus, I’m so sorry, I didn’t recognize you at first…what can I do for you today?”

  She smiled. “Just need to get a lift somewhere. Can you send me to these coordinates?”

  His face fell a bit. “I hadn’t been told anyone else was being transported today. Let me double-check my schedule and I’ll-”

  “Oh, this is a last minute assignment from His Majesty himself. He’s asked me to conduct a brief diplomatic visit with our new allies. I could contact him or Colonel Fornost if you need authorization?”

  For a tense moment, Ansaria felt certain that her gamble would fail, and just as she was trying to figure out what to do after that, the technician smiled.

  “No need for that, captain, I’m happy to help a hero of the Empire anyway I can,” with that, he set to work, powering up the equipment and inputting the destination.

  Ansaria g
ave him the most sincere smile she could muster while she gave a silent thanks to the ancestors before moving over to the teleportation pad.

  A few minutes later, the blinding light of the teleporter faded and she found herself in the pale, blue light of the Cerulean Spear. Waiting for her was Eberius himself, flanked by two Ebon guards. Ansaria quickly strolled toward the prince, but stopped short when his guards angled their weapons at her.

  “Stand down you two,” said the prince. “If Xandarius was going to send anyone to eliminate me, I doubt it would be her.”

  The protectors heeded their ruler’s command, though Ansaria was still taken aback by the less than friendly welcome. Eberius offered Ansaria his arm, and after she took it, he led them to his private quarters. Eberius wasted no time explaining the situation.

  “Your Emperor’s declaration has put my entire force on edge. I’ve been bombarded by almost constant pleas to either immediately depart, or to use this as excuse to launch a first strike before returning home to gather reinforcements.”

  “They’re that concerned by the ultimatum?”

  “They know that submission is not even a shadow of an option. They fear that our small fleet will either be captured, or destroyed, and they believe that their only options left are to leave now, or attack first to weaken the enemy before war truly begins.”

  They paused their conversation until they reached the entrance to his lodgings and entered while they left the guards outside. Once inside, Eberius removed his helmet, and Ansaria could see the strain of the situation on his face. He gestured to his two-seater and they sat.

  “And what about you, what do you intend to do?”

  Eberius sighed, and his shoulder’s slumped, as though he could physically feel the burden of his relationship.

  “There is no way that my father will be strong-armed into submitting to a distant foreign power, no matter what mystical fire he wields or how many ships he has at his command; my people will not surrender until their resolve has been beaten from them, and that will only come after every single Ebon world has been razed and its fleets broken in orbit above our homeworld. As for striking first, I see the merits of it, but I will not draw first blood unless my people are in clear jeopardy. But if that does happen, Ansaria, I will do what I have to in order to ensure that this fleet and its soldiers return home safely.”

  Ansaria sighed as well, feeling just as weary as Eberius looked.

  “Everyone wants to do right by their own people, but as soon as things look difficult, too many are quick to turn to violence to solve the problem. How can we all say we want to work together when we draw weapons on each other at the drop of a helmet?”

  Eberius didn’t answer, instead drawing a gloved hand across his tried face as though trying to wipe away some of his fatigue.

  “Speaking of a ‘quick turn to violence,’ what did Xandarius say when you spoke?”

  Ansaria explained Xandarius’ frustration at the lack of immediate unity and the threat of future war with the Imperium, and the ambiguity of receiving support from Eberius’ people. Eberius scoffed at this reasoning.

  “Does he think cooperation happens overnight? We have a bond forged in battle, but even that can only serve as the beginning of true diplomacy.”

  Ansaria sighed again. “Xandarius has spent the last one hundred and twenty years forcing his vision of unity on worlds across space. Now that he has the Flame, and gone head-to-head with a supposedly unstoppable being, he thinks that gives him the right to lead the unified forces against whatever future threat might be out there.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why he’s rushing things. With enough time and cooperation, all Xandarius’ worries can be put to rest and his goals achieved,” he shook his head. “Instead, he’s allowing his ego, fear, and pride in his own, untested powers to drive his decisions. I think Gamesh is right: that Flame is affecting his personality.”

  Ansaria mulled this over. Maybe Eberius was right: Xandarius had been viewed as nearly infallible by first the Xenlongians and then later by dozens of other species. Only a handful of worlds had been able to escape conquest, and even a larger, ancient, interstellar empire hadn’t been able to defeat the Emperor. Now, a being that had nearly consumed an entire galaxy was dead, and the power of his greatest enemy was his to command; no wonder he was frustrated by the situation, his winning streak and new-found power should have impressed the Starlight Imperium and the Ebon Empire enough that they flocked to his banner. Instead, they ‘stubbornly’ clung to their independence and prior animosities, despite the fact the situation had clearly changed.

  “However, I think the bigger question here is what you intend to do, Ansaria.”

  His statement was so unexpected that it was a moment before she could reply.

  “What…do you mean, exactly?”

  Eberius covered one of her hands with his and looked deeply into her eyes. “When we reconvene, and your emperor does not hear the answer that he wants – the situation will get very tenuous very quickly. I cannot predict exactly what he will do next-” (and here he laughed at something that completely escaped Ansaria) “-but whatever it is, you will have to decide what you will do: will you refuse to act out of moral obligations, or will you immediately resign from your commission? Will you try to convince your liege to see reason? Or,” his face became lined with sadness and worry. “will you comply with his order, whatever it may be?”

  A thousand thoughts and feelings suddenly filled her, and she was so overcome that she had to stand up and put some space between herself and the young prince. A hand flew to her mouth, and her throat felt tight, though whether it was because she was about to cry, vomit or break into maniacal laughter she didn’t know. She used her free hand to brace herself against the cool, humming metal of the hull, and took several deep, steadying breaths.

  When she felt…well, not normal, but not on the verge of a complete breakdown, she turned back to Eberius. The Ebon prince was still sitting on his couch, looking at her in concern, though also still waiting for her answer. She swallowed a few times before she spoke.

  “All my life…I’ve looked up to Xandarius; he saved my world, and freed my people from a society of greed and oppression, and he’s done that on more than a hundred other worlds across this galaxy. I enlisted when I came of age, because I wanted to help make his dream of peace and prosperity for all worlds come true…” she paused, not sure what to say next. “Ever since all that insanity that led to us meeting, and me and the others being ingratiated with Xandarius, I’ve come to see him more as he really is, rather than what all of us have built him up to be. He’s made mistakes, and he’s not perfect, but everything I’ve seen tells me that he has the best interest of as many beings as possible at his heart. I would be lying if I said that out of anyone present at this meeting, Xandarius isn't the best one to put in charge of a coalition like this.” Emotion once again threatened to overwhelm her. “But I also know that what he is asking is all but impossible for you or Gamesh to submit to. And I know that both of you also need to do what’s right by your own people. Just like Xandarius and I have to do for ours.”

  Eberius stood up swiftly.

  “What are you saying, Ansaria?”

  Ansaria rubbed her eyes, suddenly feeling completely exhausted.

  “I guess what I’m saying is that when the time comes, we’ll both find out what I’ll do.”

  Chapter XXXIX

  Boiling Point

  Father…I’m writing to you on the eve of what may very well be my death. Xandarius’ mad decree that we and the Starlite Imperium submit to his authority in order to form a united anti-Star Eater force has nearly reached its deadline. Shortly, I shall depart for the meeting place, while this message, along with a copy of all the others, as well as the data we collected on our expedition, shall be sent off on one of our smaller, faster vessels for home; this way, our people shall not be caught off-guard should the worst happen and the insane Xenlongian is victorious. Th
e rest of the fleet shall remain with me, to do battle with the…enemy, should it come to that. I implore you to withhold our forces until at least after the Embrace; that should give us enough time to return home, in the event that diplomacy and sanity prevail, but will still give you enough time to deploy our fleet should you decide to go on the offensive. I leave that decision up to you. As for Ansaria…this is perhaps her greatest test: will her loyalty to her people and her ruler triumph, or will she be strong enough to stand for peace in the face of war? I pray for us both, no matter the outcome.

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

  Ansaria was more terrified waiting for a meeting of monarchs to begin than she had been awaiting the arrival of an extragalactic monstrosity that consumed suns and slowly killed galaxies. Not even those last, nightmarish moments, when the Star Eater had reached its goal and begun feeding, and with apparently no other option than a suicidal charge, had gripped her with fear like she was now. Her heart hammered in her chest, and beneath her gloves, her hands were uncomfortably sweaty. Her mouth was dry, and her armor seemed maddeningly ill-fitting; she was constantly shifting in place and tugging at one piece or another.

  Alvara was in ‘sniper’ mode: blank-faced, controlled breathing, her hands tightening and relaxing, as though she could feel the weapon in her hand, and was waiting for just the right moment to pull the trigger. She noticed her CO’s distress, but couldn’t offer anything more than an encouraging nod.