StarFlight: The Prism Baronies (Beyond the Outer Rim Book 2)

by Reiter

  “Let me know when you find that,” Reginald remarked. “Because that boy’s loving what he’s doing! That’s one thing we all do!”

  “A good point to remember,” Thao noted as she continued to watch. “See the seam, Jake. You know what to do with it.” Jacob roared as his fingers pierced the electrical flesh of the fist and ripped it apart. Lightning cascaded through the sky, revealing the body of the creature that had formed the offending limb. “Of course,” Thao sighed as she recognized the figure from one of the tomes she had read in Freund’s library. “… Count Kuldro Gnudari.”

  “Then we have what we want,” Stewart declared, turning to walk away.

  “Why leave an enemy behind?” Reginald asked.

  “Whoa there, super-man-soldier! That approach works in the mortal world,” Stewart quickly remarked. “You make gods fear you, and they will soon forget why they’re fighting amongst themselves. Make them respect you… that is a power you can wield forever! Big shit over there’s been stunned by a bunch of nobodies, one of his favorite toys rusted. We’ve made our point! We need to get gone!”

  “Yes sir,” Reginald barked. “You heard the man, Specs. Knock, knock already!” A dimensional door formed close to the group, though they would have to get their feet wet to use it. “Okay people, by the numbers. Big Jake, you’ve got the back door.”

  “That I do,” Jacob said as he returned to his normal height. “Damn that felt good!”

  “I’m sure it did,” C’Zaddrus said as he made his way to the aperture, ushering Jashana in front of him. One by one, they all moved through the portal with Jacob entering last.

  The aperture was sealed and its signature scattered before Kuldro had the means to see again. The amount of backlash he had endured had nearly destroyed him. He had grown careless and messy, forgetting to anchor the lightning form to something other than himself. His opponent had been impressively strong and not lacking in intellect as to how best to apply his strength. Screaming in rage, Kuldro made a sweeping backhand motion. The locked form of Vrelsha exploded in rust and shining metal. The godling departed for the Gnudari Pantheon. There was a report the Count would have to give to his Lord and Father.

  A gentle wind blew over the river and the riverbank, slowly moving the loosened and kicked up earth, packing it down back into the ground with young, vibrant seedlings of grass already beginning to grow. Harsh boot prints were removed and the pits where the giant had stood were filled. Fragments of Living Steel were collected and Eesa touched the pile with the side of her boot, giving it enough gravity to hold that form.

  “I still don’t feel this is right,” Eesa commented, pulling the shattered armour from the river. The girdle and weapons would be next.

  “You think too much with the mindset of those who receive your light,” Cihpares returned, “… and not enough with your own. These items are the property of a pantheon, are they not?”

  “Of course they are.”

  “And it was a Lord of good standing of the very same pantheon which struck them down. What claim can that house make on these items?”

  “None that would be legitimate,” Eesa sighed.

  “An argument that is made significant if and only if you consider the Stars as those to whom the laws of the deities applies,” Cihpares added.

  “I do not,” Eesa declared, speaking in a stronger tone. Her movements came more quickly now, and soon everything had been gathered. She looked at the pile of fragmented metal and started separating the fine steel from the rusted.

  “No, do not do that,” Cihpares insisted. “Whatever we decide to make with this… it must have balance. Without flaws, it will be without character.”

  “Remnants of the perspectives of your mortal life?”

  “Yes,” Cihpares admitted. “And I hate to see anything go to waste.”

  Eesa thought for a moment before speaking. “With all that you have seen and experienced, are you not tempted to return to the mortal world and find the love that drives you so?”

  “And risk becoming less than what I was when his love was so freely given to me?” Cihpares asked. “In all I have seen where such efforts were made, reassemblage of life is not as pure as its original birth.”

  Eesa said no more, convinced that the one calling herself Cihpares had indeed been observant. She had seen life reclaimed after death, but her monitoring had not stopped there. She continued to watch, not just see. For the mere fact of living again was not enough for her. Her true mortal life had set a standard, and she would accept nothing less if she were to attempt a return to the living stride. Failing that, she had endeavored to care for her loved one in the best manner she could.

  “Though it is unclear how this will help him,” Eesa thought as she finished gathering the discarded entity and her weapons.

  “Unclear as it may be to you, I am confident of one thing: any aid I can give is worth the effort and sacrifice.” Eesa looked up from her work with fright on her face.

  “Do you detect my siblings?!” she asked.

  “No, Eesa, they are not nearby,” Cihpares replied. “They are still mending wounds from their attempt to barge their way into the Prism Baronies. And while I am willing to make the very same sacrifice as my kommis, it is an event I would like to put off for as long as possible.”

  “That is good to hear,” Eesa remarked. “I believe that is everything.”

  “Indeed it is… and if you will bring those things along, I know what we should do next.” Cihpares ascended quickly from the ground. Eesa followed and soon they were moving through light. “From the treks that I can see, there stands a strong chance the time left to us is limited.”

  With her eyes engaged in the vision of the Stars, Eesa was given to smile. “The Star Chaser has claimed a star-pod!” she exclaimed. “And he looks no worse for wear. Yes, let us be on our way. So much we have to do… and so little time!”

  ** b *** t *** o *** r **

  “Then let us get underway!” Hanvashi Zoll shouted, throwing his hands up and out from his sides. The cheers of the crowd followed behind him as he turned away from the small platform. Lola Phandree signaled to discontinue the outbound transmission. She looked at the monitors receiving the views of the various crowds who had heard the Baron’s speech. There were millions of them, all screaming for their savior, their deliverer, their beloved Baron Zoll.

  “Now, if we can just keep from having our goddess destroy the colony again,” Lola thought, “we might just be able to get something done.”

  “That was some speech,” Trag commented as Hanvashi entered his quarters. He removed his long jacket and tossed it for the wardrobe chair in the corner.

  “It seemed to be the thing to do,” Hanvashi replied as he walked without interruption to the bar. He stopped, looking at the cask of Nectar that had been wrapped with a black ribbon.

  “I took the liberty of bringing you a bottle,” Trag said with a smile. “My way of saying congratulations.”

  “My Lord is most gracious,” Hanvashi said, reaching for the bottle. He could feel the life-force contained inside, anxious to get out.

  “Not at all,” Trag returned, getting up from the sofa. He had sat upon more comfortable pieces of furniture in his time, but there was a certain appeal to the look of the thing; gold and rust colors swirled in together with the rich mahogany wood of the frame. “In fact, why don’t we dispense with the pleasantries. Acting is certainly not one of your stronger suits, and I don’t have the stomach for a less than honest performance. I came for what is mine.”

  “Yours?”

  “You just had a great victory against the pirate horde pressing against your growing convoy of pilgrim ships,” Trag stated. “A very convenient victory; the stuff of legend! While I am very happy to help with the efforts of all of Antavida’s little side projects, this particular assistance was costly. I was beginning to regain my numbers of ships and men. A fair amount of those efforts were lost to make you look like a hero to your people and i
ncrease the potential for fanaticism. These costs must be recouped.”

  Hanvashi snorted a laugh before he put the bottle down and turned to face the pirate captain. “Whatever you did, Trag, you did so at the behest of our common goddess.”

  “Guess again, boy!” Trag grinned. “Your precious goddess can put her velvet lips to my crotch for all I care!”

  “I will not have–” pure MannA had been gathered in Hanvashi’s palm. But before he could lift it or even begin the process of casting, ownership of his hand was assumed by the large, rough-skinned hand of Trag. The captain was not a small man, but Hanvashi had not thought he was so strong as to have such a grip on Hanvashi’s augmented body. Xaythra had made him strong, but Trag was still stronger, and not by a negligible amount. Baron Zoll was also forced to take note as to how quickly the large pirate captain had crossed the room.

  “Have what, boy?” Trag whispered as his eyes turned black. “If you want to have a look, I’d suggest you use your eyes while you can still find them in your skull!”

  “Merciful goddess,” Hanvashi thought. His mind quickly recollected the instance when Xaythra had trusted him with the secret of a power that even she had to serve. The Baron had not expected to see that power in a man, but there it was all the same, and there was no sense in denying it. After all, the claim that Trag had made was accurate. Hanvashi had simply been considering welching on his end of their agreement.

  Trag smiled as he absorbed the generated MannA before releasing Hanvashi. “No sense in that kind of power going to waste.”

  “Forgive me, Lord Trag,” Hanvashi said softly. “How many men and ships will you require?”

  Smirking at the young Baron, Trag nodded. “I am not interested in used ships that are barely space-worthy. And from the looks of them, your so-called congregation better be able to sustain itself on faith for a season or two.”

  “Xaythra will provide,” Hanvashi remarked.

  “For your sake, I hope she does,” Trag scoffed, walking over to the window of the large office. “Until such time, you have something I can use right now.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Your masses came with everything they could carry,” Trag stated. “And some of them managed to carry quite a load of credits. I will need all that they tithed to you and everything they kept for themselves. I’ll give you a day to collect it.”

  “We are going to need those credits once we get to Renatus,” the Baron noted.

  “I am sure you will,” Trag quickly replied, donning his gloves. “Just as I am sure that ‘Xaythra will provide’. Just tell your followers that the cost of defending them against the pirate hordes was extensive.”

  “A tactic that was wholly your idea, I might add,” Hanvashi added.

  “That’ll teach you to get all of the details of a plan before agreeing to it,” Trag returned. “One day, good Baron. Not a moment more.” Hanvashi said nothing as the pirate captain took his leave. Lola walked in not long afterward and cleared her throat softly.

  “What is it, Commander?”

  “Commander?!” Lola gasped.

  “Forgive me, Lola. I had meant to make your promotion more of a festive occasion, but that wind has been taken from me.”

  “Then let it be said that the High Priest is nothing if not punctual,” Lola reported. “We’re receiving an inbound transmission from his ship. It should be secured in a matter of moments, my Baron.”

  “Punctual is indeed the word, Commander,” Hanvashi said, quickly making his way to his desk. “Please excuse me. Alert the kitchen staff, we’re going to have a feast in honor of your promotion!”

  “Yes, my Baron. As you command.” Lola bowed before exiting and Hanvashi sat down, activating his monitor. It did not take long for the image of Gregoran Killington to form. His face was slightly smudged and he was wearing a battle helmet. Her smiled once he received the image of his Baron.

  “My Priest,” Hanvashi greeted.

  “My Baron.”

  “I can’t help but notice that you are not only dressed for combat, but it would seem that you’ve had to sample it as well.”

  Gregoran nodded slowly. “The followers of any faith will constantly find themselves tested. But it was by divine guidance that our fleet came upon a merchant’s convoy bound for Gulmar. Thirty-two Slaver ships, my Baron, and all of the indebted passengers were ecstatic to have their accounts cleared. Not long after their emancipation, however, the merchants managed to scrounge up a mercenary fleet; seven ships to be exact, counting two battleships.”

  “Two battleships?!” Hanvashi repeated. “How stand your forces?”

  “That smoke you see behind me is all that’s left of a small settlement,” Gregoran explained as he steadied himself. “My Baron… Survaysi was magnificent! When she gave the order for our ships to run, I must admit that I had my doubts. When she ordered the other ships to transfer the freed slaves to our flagship, I thought she was suicidal. But she reminded me of her code and I stayed my hand. The mercenaries gave chase of course, ignoring the other ships as they turned away from us. Survaysi had us put into port on an old surveyor’s platform that had been renovated into a settlement. When the mercenary forces landed and started in on us, Survaysi maneuvered them into the interior of the platform where she trapped them and had her men take out two-thirds of the landing force after cutting them off from the others. She took only the men she had been training and engaged the mercenaries in close-quarters combat.”

  “She shredded them!” Hanvashi whispered.

  “But not in a way to where their uniforms were too heavily impacted,” Gregoran added. “While she had her men trade clothes with the dead mercenaries, she had me read the mind of one that had been kept alive to give her any codes or procedures the mercenaries might have been using. In short, she took her troops aboard the mercenary ships and we were able to take all but one of them; the flagship of that fleet had to be destroyed. Currently, we are awaiting the return of our other ships and then we will set our course for you.”

  “Set your course for Renatus,” Hanvashi directed, “for that is where I am sending the flock I have gathered. They shall be underway in a gravity-slip in just over twenty-four hours.”

  “Very well, my Baron,” Gregoran responded. “Once we have secured the return of our ships… and sorted the willing and able from the simply willing–”

  “That is the stuff of the gods that were, Gregoran,” Hanvashi noted. “This is the beginning of a new age. Let them all come… Xaythra will not turn them away... the lost will find haven with our Mistress.”

  “As you wish it, my Baron.”

  “Well done, High Priest. Surely you are a child of Xaythra.”

  “I seek only to magnify her light,” Gregoran returned. “I did notice, however, that you sounded as if you will not be with the convoy when it reaches Renatus.”

  “I will not,” Hanvashi stated, confirming a notion that he had been wrestling with over the course of the last two weeks. Some of the gathered pilgrims had spoken of Black Gate and the Prism Baronies, reminding the Baron of his life before he dedicated himself to Xaythra. With the fee that Trag had demanded, Hanvashi knew that he was going to need something to offset the loss.

  “The question is, do I want to put my ability up against the Bowels of Black Gate?” the Baron pondered. “Then again, there are many contacts at the station and a few favors still owed to me from inside The Territories. Perhaps the time has come to collect.

  “Commander Phandree and Yulshal will stay with the fleet. I will be taking my fastest ship to Black Gate, my Priest,” Hanvashi advised.

  “Shall I join you there?” Gregoran asked.

  “Not with the numbers I am sending your way,” Hanvashi returned. “They will be disgruntled, Priest. I find that people without some measure of personal wealth can be most disagreeable.”

  “Understood. Please tell me you will be taking at least one of the Luprane with you, my Baron.” Hanvashi chuck
led, seeing the obvious concern on the Priest’s face.

  “I will take Gedonia and Ziko with me.”

  “And I will tend to the flock until you return home, my Lord.”

  “This is Zoll disconnecting.” Deactivating his monitor, Hanvashi sat back in his chair and smiled. “While I was out collecting citizens, Gregoran was collecting our soldiers. And Survaysi leads them! It is not yet the collection of voices we had at Tau Upsilon, but it is growing. To exercise faith is to demonstrate patience. Soon our Mistress will return to us and Renatus will be complete! Then the light of Xaythra will shine and the Rims will know what a true goddess is!”

  Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.

  William Shakespeare

  (Rims Time: XII-4203.16)

  The code showing that Satithe had completed her diagnostics flashed across the screen. Dungias did not want to speak to her on this level, not when a deeper exchange, was available to him. He met her in the meadow at the foot of the falls. His eyes stared intently at the form that sat at the banks of the glimmering pool.

  “Green skin?” he questioned as he made a very soft and slow approach. He was nothing short of impressed with the changes Satithe had chosen. Her hair was brown, the very same shade worn by Saru, with Vinthur-patterned streaks of black rooted sections that ended in glistening white tips; an homage, Dungias presumed, dedicated to him and his own growth. Three thin braids, like the sort Borsidia wore, hung down the right side of Satithe’s head, tied around slender power gems, reminding the Malgovi of Queen BaKedia.

  “Do you not like it, Master?” Satithe asked, looking up at him with teal-striped gold eyes. “With the Malgovi being blue and the Vinthur possessing yellow skin?” Satithe started to lower her head and Dungias could read mounting shame sweeping over her face. His hand caught her chin before it could reach her chest. He lifted it so that she was forced to look into his eyes. Shame became surprise as she noted the single tear running down the side of his face.