by SK Benton
The packed hall roared in applause and cheers as Bagatelle turned around and bowed. Liliana jumped up and ran over, throwing her arms around her uncle and peppering his face with kisses, before returning to her seat.
"So now that I have started the process, I kindly ask that you finish with the rest of the promotions," said the king.
Bagatelle faced the hall and took a deep breath. He was always more a man of action than a man of words, but this time he needed to rouse the troops and inspire those who would follow him to the defense of another world.
"Greetings to all. I, um, will now award a promotion in rank to those from my world. But first, I do need to grant commission to two young ladies who have left everything they know behind to come with us. Jessica and Pandy, please come over here."
The two girls got up from their seats and walked over to the admiral, both wearing beaming grins. They had not expected anything, but were happy something was coming their way.
"Girls. I have only known you by your first names, as I have come to understand that you have no family names. It is at this time, before I grant commission, that I ask what surnames you would take, as they are required on my world. It can be anything you like. It could even be… Bagatelle."
The two girls looked at each other and giggled a bit, when Jessica winked at Bagatelle and said, "Sir, thank you so much, but your name is yours and yours alone. If I must have a second name please make it Moonbeam."
Pandy stepped up and said, "I always thought Vendetta sounded cool."
"Very well," continued Bagatelle, "then it is my honor to grant both Jessica Moonbeam and Pandy Vendetta commission in Azul Military, with the rank of ensign. It is the beginning rank of a commissioned officer, and I believe quite befitting of both of you."
The two girls bowed, but Bagatelle leaned forward and took them each by a shoulder. Lifting them up, he said, "No, my girls. We salute. Like so."
Snapping his flattened palm up to his forehead, the girls mimicked his movements, and then brought their hands back after he had done so.
"Jennie will teach you the intricacies before we return to Azul, young ladies."
"Thanks, sir!" the girls bellowed out in unison, and then rambled back to their seats.
"Next I would like to call up my Lieutenant Jennifer Escalante de Gunnarsson."
Jennie rose up from her seat and went up the short step to stand by her brother's side.
"Lieutenant, you have operated under my command for as many years as you have been in Azul military. I feel I may have been unfair in not granting you increases in rank, but I only did so as I wished to keep you close by. But, now that everything has changed, your promotion is not only warranted, but also necessary. Jennifer Escalante de Gunnarsson, I hereby confer upon you the rank of full commander of Azul Military, with all of the rights and privileges that come with it. From here on out you shall be addressed as Commander Jennifer Gunnarsson."
Expecting the customary applause, instead, the entire hall erupted into a giant party, with chairs, mugs and plates flying all over the place. Jennie was incredibly popular, even though she was married to Max. She grinned and waved to everyone, and then did the archaic fingers across the throat motion to quiet everyone down.
Figuring he was next, Max was about to get up out of his seat when Jennie sat down next to him, but both were surprised when Bagatelle called his next commission.
"Liliana Gunnarsson, please approach the high table."
The little girl sat still, completely surprised. She looked at her mother, wondering if she was in trouble, but Jennie smiled and nudged her to go up. Approaching her uncle slowly, she looked around and found the hall to be amazingly quiet.
"Liliana Gunnarsson, the young girl who only a year ago was an orphan who helped to save this castle and kingdom, today you stand before me. You have accomplishments well beyond your years, and although you have yet to garner an education and to attend the academy, I am bestowing upon you the rank of acting ensign. It is not full-time, as you still must attend your classes, but when you are on mission with us it is your legal and commissioned rank. Congratulations, Ensign Gunnarsson."
If anyone hadn't expected an even more rousing celebration than Jennie's they should have. Liliana was one of their own, born in the very castle in which they all lived. She was the shining example of what bravery can do, even for those without any advantage in life, such as an orphan. The little girl gave her uncle a sharp salute, and after he had reciprocated she went back to her seat, obviously very pleased. After a few minutes the crowd calmed down, and Bagatelle went to call on Max.
"Commander Maximilianus Gunnarsson, please approach the high table."
Max of course got up and walked over to his brother-in-law. He knew that these ranks were only a formality, and would not be official until they had captured the government, and military, back from Johnson, but he was still happy that Bagatelle was giving him the honor.
"Max Gunnarsson, when I first heard of you I only knew of you as a scientist. You were not a soldier, nor a leader. Then, when we met I was under orders to capture you, and to kill you if you resisted arrest. Instead, I trusted my instincts and let you flee - not only alone, but also with my only kin, my little sister. I am so very glad I did, because not only have I gained a great ally, I also have more family, and hope for our world. Max Gunnarsson, today it is my great pleasure to promote you to the rank of captain, as you will be required to maintain that rank while in command of the ADF Ronald Reagan. Congratulations, Captain Gunnarsson."
Everyone in the hall stood up and did something extremely uncharacteristic of lycans - they saluted Max, and held their flattened palms, faced down, to their brows until he returned the salute. Looking over, even his daughter and wife were saluting him.
The party continued, ramping up to the point of slam dancing (within a protective bubble) and nearly all of the furniture inside being smashed to pieces. Pandy and Liliana especially had a good time using cantuses to cause certain attractive lycan soldiers' boots to heat up rather quickly. Liliana accidentally lit Kyle's hair on fire, but Draagh fortunately extinguished the flames before the lad took notice. The boy was seated with some of his fellow students, who were preparing for their first full moon. Liliana still wanted to capture his attention - however, it appeared that his eyes were on an older lycan teenager, much to Liliana's chagrin. Jennie watched Liliana and Pandy, not knowing if the young woman was too mature an influence on her young daughter, but Jessica assured the commander that her best friend indeed had innocent intentions - but would also help to keep an eye out just in case.
Keeping an ever-present eye on the happenings in the celebration, Draagh was enjoying some whisky with Krynos, while Gabriel and Jessica were snickering at the chaos in the middle of the great hall. At the table on the new second-level platform, Max and Jennie sat back, keeping an eye out on Liliana, with the woman leaning back into her husband's arms.
"We throw really good parties, don't we?" she asked.
"Yeah, pretty epic. Hey - wanna tango? I can clear the floor and change the music."
"Naw, not here. But I have a dance for you… I'll show it to you later tonight," she giggled as she nuzzled Max's ear with her nose.
"Sounds good, love. Hey - give me a minute. I'm going to chat with Michael real quick."
Jennie groaned comically, not wanting to relinquish her comfortable position in her husband's arms, but moved a bit to let him stand up. Going over to where his biological father was sitting, Max gave him a grin, and extended his hand while saying, "Hey, thanks for helping to get me back home."
"It was my pleasure, son. I also look forward to helping save the world of your birth."
"Now that's my dad talking."
Epilogue
Samyaza and Gadreel, both Grigori - long ago fallen from the graces of the universe - stood on a sub-dimensional precipice, looking out over the entire Milky Way Galaxy. It was a magnificent sight, unimaginable to any mortal: hundreds of billi
ons of stars in a constantly swirling maelstrom of hot gasses, planets, and their satellites.
"Now that they have recovered Mija-El it could complicate matters," Gadreel informed his brother.
"He should have remained stranded on the world of lazy, drug-abusing monkeys."
"He was, but Gabriel was convinced to retrieve him, assisted by their father."
"Yes, the First One is becoming quite a nuisance."
"But the offspring - did you not see his hybrid form? Amazing," said Gadreel, his tone showing more than a bit of respect.
"Amazing, yes - convenient, no. He needs to be eliminated. They have already used his blood to enhance more of the dogs."
"Brother, all this just to slight Jah?"
"As far as we know, Jah is no longer. It is now up to us. Mankind must not be allowed to evolve."
"Yes, they already present a danger. It is a shame. I have so enjoyed watching as they nearly destroy themselves."
"I agree. It is tragic they did not succeed in that particular task. We must finish the job for them. The insects were a marvelous creation, however; they cleanse quite well."
"If humans advance further they shall reach biological singularity; that was Jah's accursed intent. I still cannot understand why He, in all His glory, would allow a mere creation to supersede us - His true children. Was He mocking us when He created them in our image? They are mere shells - sloppy paintings in comparison. But if allowed to continue, they shall reach the level of the others, who are now untouchable."
"It will still be eons before they evolve to such a point, Brother. But the further they advance, the more difficult it will be to eliminate them. We act now out of necessity."
"I agree. Do you continue protecting the ghoul?"
"He is camouflaged and shall soon rendezvous with the insects. The offspring's base harnessing of sub-dimensional travel was unexpected, but helps to push our timeline forward."
###
Chairman Len Johnson sat at the controls of his personal space yacht, as he called it, executing commands that had been pre-programmed into its navigational computer. Of course he had no idea how to actually take his ship to the appropriate location in space, but as a political creature of habit he always acted like he was in command.
"Sir, we rendezvous with the Artusian fleet in seventy-four hours. Would you like to relax during our voyage?"
Len Johnson looked at his ship's captain and nodded his head. He needed to rest up before confronting X'than'dor, and demanding more time before the Vrol arrive at the borders of Azul System. Getting up, Johnson went to his personal cabin, and looking in the mirror, admired himself as he smirked, fully believing he could affect the velocity of the Vrol fleet.
He couldn't have been more mistaken.
Book Three
LIVES OF THE PROVECTUS
Table of Contents for LIVES OF THE PROVECTUS
LIVES OF FUTURE-PAST (Book One)
LIVES OF LOST ANGELS (Book Two)
Chapter 1 - Tangle
Chapter 2 - Savior
Chapter 3 - Welcome to the Castle
Chapter 4 - Conversion
Chapter 5 - Frozen
Chapter 6 - Harajuku
Chapter 7 - Go Home
Chapter 8 - Sushi
Chapter 9 - Setup
Chapter 10 - Move It!
Chapter 11 - Agreement
Chapter 12 - New Alliances
Chapter 13 - PAH Fun
Chapter 14 - Raid
Chapter 15 - Together
Chapter 16 - Attack!
Chapter 17 - Portals
Chapter 18 - Address
Chapter 19 - Activated
Chapter 20 - New News
Chapter 21 - Revelations
Chapter 22 - Welcome, Mr. President
Chapter 23 - Vrol Hunt
Chapter 24 - Castle Sweet Castle
Chapter 25 - Reality Lessons
Chapter 26 - Good Galactic Hunting
Chapter 27 - Blind Breakfast
Chapter 28 - Portlandia
Chapter 29 - Disrupted Vacation
Chapter 30 - Panic
Chapter 31 - Pure Genius!
Chapter 32 - Hide and Seek
Chapter 33 - Resistance
Chapter 34 - The Plan
Chapter 35 - Tag, You're It!
Chapter 36 - Mass
Chapter 37 - Tragedy and Loss
Chapter 38 - Resolve
Chapter 39 - Vacuum
Chapter 40 - Undesired Changes
Chapter 41 - Real Estate
Epilogue
Glossary of Terms
Chapter 1 - Tangled
"Sir, we'll reach our destination in seven hours," howled a metallic voice over the ship's comm.
Chairman Len Johnson, despot of Azul System, groggily lifted his head from his pillow; his pale, angular face carrying a look of annoyance, framed by thin, shock-white hair.
His latest attempt at sleep had only lasted a few hours, but during that time he experienced a horrific nightmare. Somehow, his subconscious was telling him what his conscious mind had been rejecting for over a year - that his son was dead. This particular dream had Max Gunnarsson stabbing the young man in the back with a large blade; not even close to the truth. But like all dreams, this one quickly faded away into darkness as he sat up on the edge of his bed. Waving the captain off, the officer shut the cabin door, enabling Johnson to dress and prepare for the final few hours he had before confronting an unknown species - the Vrol - in an attempt to delay their arrival to his home world, Azul.
Johnson couldn't really be blamed for the arrival of the Vrol, as the species had centuries-prior acquired coordinates to his home world from an errant Exodus barge. However, he was more than complicit in allowing them to approach Azul without any form of resistance. That fact alone made him a traitor to the human race, even though he could have cared less.
He simply saw himself as the leader of a renewed Earth – the home world of his ancestors, where his progenitors had been virtually wiped out by these same aliens he was en route to approach.
Johnson was an intelligent man - to a certain extent. Like most politicians, he made himself successful by force of will and a blatant use of leverage whenever necessary. Also, like many politicians, he carried the recessive vampire gene. This alone gave him the borderline sociopathic tendencies that facilitated his rise to power. Of course he was not without feelings. He felt love for his son - the son he had sent off to Earth. The son he had commanded to sabotage the mission to capture Max Gunnarsson and his side space hook drive machinery. This sabotage resulted in the deaths of dozens of pilots and techs, but Johnson gave them nary a thought. Part of the sociopathic mindset was an amazing ability to pick and choose that for which to be remorseful - he missed his son, but actually delighted in the unnecessary deaths of the poor, unfortunate innocents.
Putting on his day garments, he departed from his cabin and purposefully entered into the small bridge area of his ship. It was obvious that his crew feared him, as he had the ability to snuff out a human life with something as simple as a call to an aide. He had done it before, and there was no indication that he was about to put a stop to that sort of behavior.
"How long until we are in range of the fleet?"
Johnson didn't ask questions; he demanded answers.
"Four hours, sir," responded the junior officer seated at the main navigational panel.
"Very well. Inform me before we are to drop out of side space and start scanning. I am thinking it may be a better idea to come in behind them and catch up."
"Sir," the captain interjected, "while we have a basic idea on their estimated time of arrival at Azul System, we are unaware of their actual propulsion technology and capabilities. However, it is a very logical approach you suggest. If they outpace our fusion-ion drives we can simply rift into side space again and go up ahead of them."
Johnson glared at the ship's captain, causing the military officer to experience some
level of discomfort. "I did not suggest anything, Captain. I was telling you what to do… in a nice manner."
The captain nodded his head and moved to the pilot, assisting with navigational computer data input, while attempting to terminate his conversation with the planetary dictator.
He's a maniac. I'll be amazed if we get out of this alive.
Johnson sat by himself in the galley, eating some roasted jraxon and asparagus, and enjoying a glass of red wine. None of the crew dared interrupt him, as he appeared to be preoccupied with his personal console. In fact, they didn't even know why they were approaching the alien fleet. Worse yet, they believed they were meeting with the Artusians, a race of angelic visitors, their identities completely concocted by Johnson in order to mask the arrival of the most dangerous, vicious and ruthless species in the Milky Way Galaxy. He had struck a cold bargain with the insectoid race, giving them Azul in exchange for no further attacks on Earth.
He believed it was he who was using the Vrol, and not the other way around.
As Johnson sat alone with his meal and personal console, Jennard Robinson, the ship's captain, had a hushed conversation with his second in command, Lieutenant Miguel Hernandez.
"Miggy, tell me - honestly. How do you feel about this mission? This is between us, and not for his ears," he murmured to his junior officer.
"Sir, I'm personally excited to meet the Artusians, but something doesn't smell right. There's way too much secrecy. But then again, Chairman Johnson has his reasons for the things he does, right?"