When no one understood, he cleared his throat again, muttering, “Excuse me.” He fidgeted with his hands, then finally said, “Turn the Thunderbirds back around. Head them toward the remaining enemy craft. This isn't over yet.”
“Admiral!” screamed Brigger, prompting both Admiral Byrd and Captain Stripe to turn and face him. “The enemy starfighters are retreating!”
“Why?” asked Captain Stripe. She crossed the room to look at Brigger's HDC, clearly thinking that Brigger was wrongly interpreting something.
Brigger pressed a couple buttons on his HDC, then pointed to the vid screen encircling the bridge. “Look.”
“What? How?” The admiral stared at the vid screen, rubbing his hands over his face and then folding his arms. The screen had zoomed in on the location of the enemy pyramids, showing debris spread in all directions. The pyramids weren't gone by their own accord; they had been destroyed by something…or by someone.
Captain Stripe put her hands up into the air in exasperation. “What the hell?! Did they just destroy themselves?”
Brigger shook his head. “Something hit them from these coordinates. They—” he paused, smiling. “The attacking starfighters are now blipping out, sir.”
“Show me,” replied the Admiral. A smile crept onto his face, too, when the vid screen changed from the killed pyramids to the attacking starfighters individually lighting up like stars, collapsing into themselves and jumping out of the system.
Admiral Byrd walked over and stood next to Captain Stripe, arms crossed, speaking somewhat over his shoulder. “Eden saved us.”
“Aye, Admiral. She lives forever among the stars now.”
“She's the brightest star among them.” He placed his hand on Captain Stripes’ shoulder, squeezing it. “Take over and prepare us to dock on Matrona. I'll be in my quarters preparing for The Prime.”
“Shouldn't we give Starship Taranis coordinates to Matrona so we can all jump and rendezvous with Admiral Jenkyns?”
The admiral looked at the clock that had been counting down when Taranis would jump coordinates again. They had 4 hours left. “Yes. When we get to Matrona, we'll give the starbase the coordinates. We'll be docked inside of Matrona when she jumps, taking all of us with her. Understood?”
The captain nodded her head and saluted her admiral. “Aye, Admiral.” She turned, taking over the command chair as Admiral Byrd walked off the bridge. “Ladies and gentlemen, prepare to dock on Matrona.”
∞
Admiral Byrd sat in a large meeting room, his back leaned against a hard chair. A long table sat in the middle of the room with a gigantic bowl of fruit set in the middle of it. The room was surrounded with green plants hanging from the walls, vines climbing to the ceiling, flowers budding everywhere. A nice bright and calming light filtered through the translucent ceiling, providing the room a certain glow, as much for the plants as it was for the personnel who were about to join him.
He rubbed his hands together. They were cold and damp. He hadn't felt this way since his final exams at Star Guild Academy, which was a little over a hundred and twenty years ago. Here, in one of Matrona's meeting rooms, he was sitting in a room where the Prime Director delivered his speeches that were broadcast to everyone on Matrona, to what was once a large fleet. Only two starships remained, Taranis and Brigantia. Today this room was just a meeting room.
The admiral immediately stood to attention as several governance officials entered the conference room. One gave him a nod, his nephew Chase, the youngest political official of the group. Three armed soldiers from the Matrona Guard entered next, with their phasers pointed directly at the admiral and positioned themselves along the opposite wall.
Stunned by the sight of potential military action being directed at him, the admiral glared at the next person joining the group, the Prime Director, all 7 feet, 7 inches of him. Something was up and it shouldn’t be happening when hundreds of thousands were dead. Was he being relieved of his duty? If so, why at gun-point? For the first time in his career, he wished he had brought his phaser with him.
Admiral Byrd gestured toward the military personnel. “What the hell is going on, Prime?”
The Prime Director, Zim Nocki, also known as “The Prime”, made Admiral Byrd's large 6 foot 5 inch frame seem insignificant. Zim was a beast, almost as thick in muscle as he was tall. Charismatic with a voice to match, his face was beautiful, chiseled where it needed to be and always gleaming. He was perfect for his high position in governance, just above the Fleet Admiral in Star Guild. Zim had a tendency of saying the right things at the right time and his actions were always completed with impeccable timing. He had been elected over thirty years ago, maintaining his position by winning each political race held during the last three decades. He never aged a bit, which was baffling for an official since it was one of the most high stress jobs within the population.
Approaching the admiral, Zim's hand turned into a fist that slammed into Admiral Byrd's stomach, doubling him over. Zim held Admiral Byrd's curled body for a moment, then tossed him back into his chair like a whipped dog.
Wheezing, Admiral Byrd leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the edge of the table. He gulped a couple of times and coughed several more, then tried to speak, but nothing came out.
Zim grabbed an apple as he sat down across from him, casually leaning back in a chair and placing his feet on the table top. Taking a bite and crunching it hard for everyone to hear, he spoke. “What the hell am I doing?” He laughed, his face reddening. “You left us high and dry, Admiral, and the question should be, 'what the hell were you doing'. You left us to die, you son-of-a-bitch! If I had it my way, I'd have you shot.” He shook his head. “You abandoned us.”
The admiral, regaining back his breath, lifted his eyes above the edge of the table. “I had no choice, Zim. We had to leave. My fleet was getting destroyed.” He sat up in his seat, facing the Prime Director. “Lieutenant Brigger patched through the coordinates to the entire fleet, including Starbase Matrona.”
Zim dropped his feet and leaned forward, slapping the table with his hand. “We received no such communication, Admiral! And if we did, you should have waited until you saw Matrona jump! You risked millions of lives!” He waved his hand, motioning for the other officials of the governance to join them at the table. Admiral Byrd had almost forgotten about them. As they took their seats, one of them nodded to him. She was an old friend, Overseer Savanna Levens and he was glad for her presence. She was the overseer of Sphere 6 on Matrona and it contained the biosphere. No doubt the plants in the room were maintained by her office in the governance.
She spoke up. “Prime, the admiral would never knowingly do any harm to you or the starbase. What you're doing here is absolutely insane.”
“I agree,” added Chase, grim faced.
Zim cocked his head to one side, staring at Chase, then at Savanna. “He left us. He knowingly left us.” He shook his head, lowering his eyes to the table, his jaw set.
“I left the coordinates with the entire fleet, Zim. You know me just as well as Savanna does. I would never knowingly harm you or anybody else in Star Guild.”
Zim stiffened. “We're not Star Guild, James, you are Star Guild. We are the governance of Star Guild and Matrona. You had no authority over my position, including military. You went over my head by taking over the fleet, jeopardizing millions of lives. Millions!”
“We had no time to discuss options, Zim. We had to defend ourselves, and—”
“Defend?” Zim's eyes hardened. “You call that defending? You left! Plain and simple. You left us to fend for ourselves, even though we have no defenses. If we had coordinates, we would have met you there. The only explanation we have is a coup d'etat.”
Admiral Byrd shot out of his chair. “What?! By who?” He pointed to his chest. “By me?” He put his hands out, demanding an explanation and baffled by such a remark. “A coup…a take-over?!” He felt like laughing. They had remarkably survived an invasion, and now
he was witnessing something even more unbelievable than the attack. He shook away the thought, changing to a more logical approach. “If you didn't have coordinates, then how did you find us? You jumped Matrona to our exact coordinates, did you not?”
“We found you because of a distress signal coming from your ship. Who were you calling, James? The enemy?”
Savanna stood up. “I've had enough, Zim. This meeting is over. What you’re saying is absolutely crazy.”
Chase stood. “I second that. You’re walking on ground you may not want to tread, Zim.”
Zim ignored them, staring intently at the admiral. “Who were you calling?”
Admiral Byrd sat down. “The distress call was for the Knights Templar.”
Zim stiffened, a twitch crossing his lower cheek. He smiled, although the muscles around his eyes didn't contract.
Admiral Byrd knew a real smile from a fake one, and this was definitely a fake. He was bluffing about something, or holding something back.
Zim looked around the room, his smile disappearing. He leaned back against his chair. His eyes became cold. “A myth, James. It's a tale only children believe. Magical knights swooping in on majestic space craft are for action vids, not real life. Why did you really send it? Or did you really think you'd be able to contact the famous Grand Master of the Knights Templar, Thomas Berard?” Zim’s question roused a chuckle around the room. “He is as fictitious as your lie. Who were you really calling, James?”
The admiral knew he was being set up, and this was just the beginning stage, the grand opening to the main attraction of finger pointing. Everyone in the room knew he wouldn't pull such a stunt. They knew he had no interest in seizing control over the governance. Politicians were nuts. This was nuts.
The admiral cupped his hands on the table, leaning closer to Zim. “I didn't have any intention of taking over the governance. You take me on my word, Zim, or shoot me now.” He pointed at the military guard. “I have no patience for being dragged into a lengthy political scandal, or whatever it is you're trying to do.” He threw his arms into the air. “We just got attacked by unknown forces and you want to play me into your political agenda?”
Zim raised one brow. “Unknown enemy?” He released a phony laugh. “Oh, I think you know them well. I even think you planned this attack, and until I can prove it we have nothing more to discuss.”
Zim stood up, nodded to his military guard and exited the room with all but a few of the officials following him like whipped pups after their master. The pressures and panic of sudden war and the resulting chaotic mayhem had either rendered them so afraid that they would do anything for Zim, or they were cowards. Nonetheless, the timing was a perfect opportunity for Zim to perpetrate any political agenda of his choosing, pulling the wool over the eyes of the masses during the current chaos.
Across the room, Chase gave a thumbs up to his uncle, letting him know that he had his support as he exited the room, shaking his head in disbelief.
Savanna stood next to her chair. “I'm sorry, James. I don't know what's gotten into him. I've never seen him like this.”
The admiral stood up, eying the top of his chair and placing his hand on it. He wiggled the chair back and forth slightly as he said, “It's okay, Savanna.” He glanced up at her, seeing the green vines hang down the wall behind her, strangely outlining her face and seeming to make her glow. She looked so beautiful, and if things were different...he sniffed, bringing himself to the present. “Everyone's alarmed by what just happened. They apparently need to point fingers at someone, and who better than me, the fleet admiral? Anything to clear Zim's name from this near genocide is going to be in Zim's best interest.”
Savanna walked over to him, placing her hand on his chest and staring into his eyes. “What happened?” She shook her head, her mouth starting to quiver, tears welling up. “Two thirds of us, of the human race is dead, James. Who were these criminals? Where did they come from?”
The admiral placed his hand on hers. “I'll do everything I can to find out.” He tilted his head, seeing that there was more in her brown eyes than she was telling him. “What happened to you, Savanna?”
She looked down and cupped her face with both hands. She started to sob. He pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head, smelling the aroma of her lovely black hair. She smelled like roses, something he knew she loved. A flash of her children came into his mind, then a flash of her son.
He let go and grabbed her shoulders, lowering himself to meet her sobbing face. “Samuel?”
She nodded her head and slid into his arms again, needing to be held by someone who knew her son, her Samuel. “He was picking up his children at school when the first blast came.” Her dark skinned hands started to shake as the sobs became stronger. Her hands then became fists. “No, no,” she mumbled, punching his chest. “He was killed, saving his kids, my grand babies!”
The admiral wanted to ask how it had happened, where exactly he was, at what school, but those questions were of no concern to Savanna. They wouldn't keep the grief from swallowing her. She knew what had happened, and reliving it in her head, imagining the explosion or recalling what others had told her about Samuel's death were probably repeating in her mind. A moment of calm would be more appropriate.
After several minutes of their embrace, she stepped back and patted his chest. She gave a smile, though a very droopy one. She wiped her tears. “I'm sorry.”
“Don't apologize, Savanna.”
“Do me a favor?” she asked, her chin quivering.
He nodded. “Anything for you.”
“Find those who murdered my son.”
He gave another nod. “I will. I'll bring them to justice for you and Samuel.”
She shook her head and backed toward the door. “Justice isn't what I'm looking for. I want to find a way to forgive them.”
He gave a slight head shake. How could she forgive them? Why would she? And, what did she want him to do, capture the enemy and present them to her? He let those questions slip away, knowing that in this moment they weren't necessary. Savanna wasn't thinking straight, but how could he blame her? He wouldn't be thinking straight if he were in her position. For once, he thanked his lucky stars that he didn't have kids.
Savanna turned and walked away, down the hall and disappeared around a corner. Admiral Byrd spoke aloud to himself, “Somehow, Savanna, I'll bring those attacking bastards to your door stop, dead or alive.”
Episode 3
Forever Mountain
Admiral James Byrd was stretched out on his green couch in his office. Other than a small desk, a large bed and file cabinets lining the wall, his office was rather empty. No pictures and no paintings. The only thing that gave it any real beauty were the two thickly lined clear-ebb windows, usually displaying the universe before him—stars, the seldom seen comet that flew by, the clouds of a nebula, and of course the red planet Lumus.
He looked through one of the windows, feeling rather fortunate that they hadn’t been blasted during the invasion, but he couldn't see out into space anymore. Instead, he had a somewhat utilitarian view of the support columns of Starbase Matrona's inner docking station where his baby, Starship Brigantia, had been dry docked for repairs.
He glanced at his desk, feeling the sudden urge to place Eden's picture on it. She had been his favorite pilot, and probably his favorite person. Thinking good thoughts about her, though, wrenched and twisted his stomach into knots. He thought better of it, choosing to think about regrets, instead. How strange, he thought, how at the moment regret feels better than happiness.
He sighed and shook his head. He had sent Eden to pilot her Thunderbird to help Star Guild during the invasion. It was her request to do so and he had granted it, going against his gut instinct and paying the price for his decision. Nonetheless, Eden had saved lives. If he hadn't let her fly, he was certain more of his pilots would’ve been killed and Matrona more than likely would’ve been blasted into space dust to hang as a ghost
amongst the stars.
He looked back at the holovid he'd been studying for hours.
“Play.” The vid bleeped on, displaying a holographic imaging of the battle.
“Stop.” The vid paused and he grabbed a pillow, slipping it under his head. His mouth tightened as he studied the vid, his breathing slow and sharp. He had stopped the vid just as the pyramid starships erupted into an explosion of light and debris.
“Reverse.”
The vid slowly reversed as the admiral scratched his head and blew spent air out of his mouth. He'd been at this too long, trying to determine how the pyramids were destroyed and especially who had destroyed them.
“Play.”
A purple torpedo entered the screen followed by another, both coming from behind an asteroid to destroy the enemy pyramids, the explosions erupting outwardly and forming clouds of debris and shrapnel, covering everything in view.
“Stop.”
“Zoom in.”
He squinted to make sure what he was seeing was correct. He shook his head. It couldn't be.
“Zoom in two more nodes.”
He sat up and scratched his chin, looking intently at the vid.
What IS that? He bent forward, studying it some more. He puffed out his lower lip. It couldn't be, but it was, no doubt about it.
He slapped a knee and stood up. He walked over to his desk and turned on the com link. “Captain Louise Stripe, please report to the admiral's office.” He walked back over and sat down on the couch, crossing one ankle over the other and folding his arms across his chest. He stared at the vid.
He definitely wasn't seeing things. On the paused holovid, there were two silver egg-shaped orbs flying on each side of a Thunderbird passing behind the exploding pyramids.
He pinched his upper lip, studying the vid some more. Who are they and how did they get a Thunderbird? However, they had saved Star Guild's ass. He probably wouldn't be alive if not for those orbs—assuming they were the ones who shot the purple torpedoes at the pyramids. For a moment, he wondered if Eden was in the Thunderbird, then shook his head. In his mind, all hope for Eden was gone. There was no way she could have survived.
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