Ghosts of Lyarra

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Ghosts of Lyarra Page 28

by Damian Shishkin


  “Don’t go far.” He laughed. “It will be your turn next.”

  After taunting her, he picked up the priestess and tossed her into the lift like a bag of refuse and cackled the whole time until the doors shut. She was alone now; alone to wait until her last march to confront Lyxia face to face before she was killed. She vowed to herself to remain strong; to look at that unworthy Council and tell her nothing as she didn’t deserve the rank and standing bestowed on her by a weak and pathetic regime. Kala was part of the new strength that flowed through the veins of the Empire, and despite knowing the end was near, she told herself she would not bow to them. Once more she lay down on the cot and closed her eyes and dreamed of the new world they wanted to create; all the while hoping she would live to see it.

  —

  Lyarran Vessel Dark Light; Epsilon Eradini

  Space crackled with electricity, tore open to belch out the Dark Light into the emptiness that had once been there. The ship had reached the limit of its engines and exited jump-space to vent and cool her engines. Upon emerging from the storm that spit them out, her aft vents protruded from her long sleek hull and noxious gasses poured forth. Normally most Fleet ships would do these rest periods along predetermined and safe routes, but his spot had been chosen not only for its being off the beaten path, but also as a rendezvous point.

  Waiting a few thousand kilometers of the starboard side of the cruiser, were a pair of J’Karin dreadnaughts. Fierce looking hulks of metal that resembled a backwards, no-legged crab, these ships were here not for battle but to meet up with their lone ally left in the fleet. As the protective shades opened up in the solarium, Aen looked over these odd craft in great detail. Their shell-like hull presented no flat surface to any foe; any impact from a projectile would suffer partial deflection from the angles thus minimizing damage in an attack. Her engines hung off to the side in claw-like appendages that appeared to have the ability to swivel; Aen figured these craft would have unparalleled abilities to maneuver in battle. A trifecta of cannons stuck out from under its ‘shell’ and out the nose and other than that, there was little else to the general appearance. Plain and effective, Aen would expect nothing less from the race of giants. Despite the size of the J’Karins themselves, the two dreadnaughts were less than a quarter of the size combined of the mighty Dark Light, and both would be able to be swallowed up in her aft shuttle bays.

  He watched as the two ships took up position on either side of the Dark Light and continued on along the same path as they were on. He noted they stayed an acceptable distance from the plume of engine gasses being expelled from the jump core; though he knew the J’Karin to be able to adapt to any atmosphere, he doubted the hot and corrosive gasses pouring from the Lyarran vessel would leave their ship unaffected. The three ships floated together in unison as communications between them and Lyxia were obviously ongoing as she laid out the plan to them.

  “I wasn’t sure I would ever see him again.” Iana’s voice from behind him spoke softly.

  It was still filtered by her helmet, but Aen had become accustomed to her voice to recognize it despite the minor alterations by the armor to it. She had thought she had come up on him unaware, but Aen sensed the change in temperature in the room as soon as she entered. Despite being among allies, he chose to err on the side of caution and keep his guard up.

  “I made him a promise.” Aen replied, holding his helmet cradled in his arm; there was no one in this section at this time of day so he was safe revealing himself. “So I have returned you to his protective shadow as he asked. Soon I will return you to your throne once more and fulfill my promise to you.”

  “And then what?” she asked in a question that took him by surprise. “If we wipe out the Guild and the Forgotten, do you honestly think that’s the end of all this? Or will I simply retake my spot at the center of another’s crosshairs?”

  “I fear we won’t have long to wait to find out.” He replied cryptically.

  “Your interrogations have been fruitful?”

  “It is amazing what can be extracted from the right people just before they die.” He said coolly. “I merely watched most of them, but the last one with the temple priestess was mine to carry out. She was strong, but I have broken stronger.”

  “And what have you learned?” Iana asked eagerly.

  “That Myril, The Guild, and the Forgotten are not the true enemy; only the tools another is using as the first wave of an attack. It is the merciful alternative to a mass extinction; to put in power a regime that will ease the transition from the life that is known to submission to a new power. Though she did not know who or what drives it, she told me that it is an old and dark lord that predates the Empire; one bent on ruling the cosmos.” He explained.

  “Anything else?”

  Aen watched as a shuttle dropped from beneath the dreadnaught on the port side and sped out in a docking ark to enter the forward bay of the Dark Light. There was no doubt that Bryx was aboard and was eager to resume his never ending duty to guard Iana. Aen only hoped that he would refrain from addressing her formally until after the faux coronation; resurrecting the dead was much more effective when no one knew the deceased was still alive.

  “She told of the disappointment of you not being able to acquire the Harbinger; her masters wanted me as a weapon and that failure spelled the end of your usefulness. She expressed regret that you were deemed unnecessary, but to argue with the Lord of Darkness was to invite one’s own death.” He watched as the shuttle disappeared beneath the Dark Light’s hull. “It was quite the shock when I revealed myself to her, but it got quite the odd verse from her.”

  “Explain.” Iana leaned forward.

  “She quoted an old scripture of prophecy; one I had a bit of trouble digging up to review myself.” He replied. Aen closed his eyes to better recollect the words, then began to recite them. “So fate has spoken, and the Harbinger has sided against the unstoppable force as it emerges from the haze. Darkness creeps across the Throne of Light, and the hands of might crave the rule one has. The Gods shall witness war as all shall kneel again. Thy kingdom comes once more.”

  “I have read this passage too.” She gasped. “But only as a youngling and did not know the weight it carried nor the shadow that followed it as I do now.”

  “So you understand it?” he asked. “You now see into the darkness and past the shadows to look upon the true architect of chaos as I do?”

  “I do.” She whispered. “So what do we do now?”

  “We take back your throne.” Aen replied with conviction.

  —

  Kala’s eyes opened, and she faced another morning that didn’t begin with her being led off to her death. She let out a breath held; once more there was no one waiting at her cell door. But with the relief, came the frustration that the wait for something would continue. It had been two months by her count, since the priestess had been taken from her cell; two months of isolation and loneliness.

  She had felt the ship drop out of and resume its travels in jump-space each time; by her count the next time they emerged they would be within the borders of Lyarra’s light and within the heart of the great Empire itself. She was trapped aboard a rogue ship, and her inability to warn her brethren ate away at her as much as her betrayal of those she had befriended over the years did. At some point, she would be freed or forced to pay for her actions, but either way Kala felt she would never be the same.

  Rising from her cot, she stretched her muscles as the possibility of atrophy worried her more and more. Kala could do some small workouts to stay fit, but lacked the water needed to replenish the lost energy from the exertion. What meager rations she got were meant to only keep her alive; her oppressors cared not if she stayed healthy at all. Holding herself against the wall, she knocked her head lightly on it in frustration.

  “Horrible being made to wait like this.” A voice behind her whispered.

  She spun around and nearly jumped back into the plasma field holding her ca
ptive in shock. Somehow, someone had snuck into her cage and stayed quiet enough to fool her very tuned senses. Worse yet, that someone was the armor clad Ifierin who had been tormenting her masters.

  “I have come to offer you hope.” He growled through his helmet. “Choose your next few words carefully, for if you speak foolishly they will be your last.”

  “So they have thrown their lot in with a murderer and bringer of chaos?” she sneered back. “Desperate and pathetic attempt to save a dying ideal.”

  “Careful traitor.” He warned her. “I can inflict horrors upon you worse than any you can imagine.”

  “The man who killed the Empress in front of the whole galaxy is calling me a traitor?” Kala stood up tall and smoothed out her uniform to feign importance. “I am the proper commander of this vessel; the new Council, to take the Dark Light into a new age. I am an important part of the next chapter in the life of the Empire and you are nothing but an afterthought.” She pointed at him with an accusatory finger.

  Aen caught her hand and kept it outstretched in a field of localized gravity, then concentrated to isolate the pointed finger. He ignored her grunts and swears as he triggered a reaction in her finger at the cellular level. Kala howled in pain with her finger glowing red hot before igniting in flames. She tried collapsing to the floor, but merely hung by her hand hooked by an unseen force. Moments later the remnants of her forefinger fell to the floor in ash; the wound cauterized by the very act that destroyed the digit before her hand was mysteriously released. Kala fell to the ground and clutched her disfigured hand; rolling around in agony.

  “You were warned about choosing your words wisely.” Aen spoke down to her. “Your perceived power and sense of entitlement is what led you to this place, and put you at my mercy. You will not perish from your injury, but it will serve as a reminder for our next visit to be mindful of your place.”

  Kala’s eyes were shut tight as she cried out in agony. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt pain so intense, and for the first time in her incarceration began to doubt the cause she sided with. From where she lay on the floor, it seemed to be on the wrong end of a great power even her masters hadn’t accounted for. Opening one eye, she looked about the room to find her tormentor only to discover that once again she was alone. And as the pain overwhelmed her system and she lost consciousness, Kala wondered if this was her punishment for failing; after all, her master was vengeful beyond comprehension.

  —

  Havyiin, Imperial Palace

  Preparations for the inauguration were going smooth, and despite a few delays in decoration arrangements and last second guest notices, Myril couldn’t have planned it better. Every ship in the Fleet had been accounted for now - even the long silent Dark Light had reported in and was returning from Terra Sol for the festivities - they even had the human Council on board to witness the dawn of a new rule. Even more shocking was the confirmation of the J’Karin delegation’s inclusion - even though the mammoth Bryx was listed amongst the guests - so the entire Empire would be there for her crowning moment.

  She was a bit concerned over the silence aboard the Dark Light regarding the matter of who was in charge; the confirmation did come encoded with Lyxia’s signatures. Maybe the take-over hadn’t proceeded as of yet because of whatever delays that kept her out of reach for so long, but Myril knew that the Dark Light had to be turned first before the others could be taken over. It was the lynch pin of the whole plan; to hold the flagship in her hands would help transition the other ships that much more smoothly. But if Lyxia was in attendance, the young whelp could be dealt with by her Forgotten before ever returning to her ship; a much more favorable and controllable outcome in her opinion.

  So she signalled for all the other operatives in the Fleet to hold station; it was not time to act yet. Everything would key on the crowning ceremony. Once she was in power officially, her orders became law and she would make sweeping changes to a regime that failed to find the murderer at large. It would appease the masses and the moves would seem justified. It involved less blood spilled and more public opinion in her favor; yes. This way made for a much better plan than hostile take overs!

  But there was one more loose end, and possibly the most frightening thing unaccounted for at this point. Her tormentor was still out there, and was threatening to be there on her day of celebration. An entire Fleet had been unable to find him; the entire Empire had been torn apart looking for clues that simply weren’t there. It was like searching for a ghost; one second it was there and next it was gone. Each day the coronation grew closer, his messages to her, haunted her more and more. If he was going to try and crash the party, she would unleash hell of her own on him; this she vowed.

  After his last message, Myril had recalled all the Forgotten spread out through the Empire, to return home and protect the new Empress. She would show them all what personal security truly was. Iana always drug around her pet dog everywhere she went, but Myril had the allegiance of the most ruthless killing machines ever created; and had little compunction to let them do their thing if needed. So let this monster come for her and so what if he bested a few elder assassins in the Temple. He would never survive coming close enough to see her face, for in a few days she would have thousands of the Forgotten at her beck and call.

  Myril let out a triumphant sigh and admired herself for thinking so well on the fly. Her mental checklist was nearly complete and the throne she coveted for so long was finally close to being hers. She had already moved into the Palace on Havyiin; well, the guest house for the time being until the funeral celebrations had been completed. Then the palace would be made ready for her, and the last traces of Iana would be swept away. Only in the files of history would she be now; what was once the hardest part of the plan had been done for her, for this she was pleased.

  There was little more than a month to go before thousands upon thousands of years of planning came to fruition. Myril knew a few worlds may not agree with the new direction the Empire would take, but also knew that standing before the Guild meant annihilation and extinction. Worlds that opposed the new way would simply disappear into the darkness.

  So with the planning nearly complete and no more posturing for political favor, Myril decided to stroll about the grounds that would soon be hers to call home. It would be a change from her humble lodgings in the Temple on Ryas, but she was sure she would manage to adjust. As she ambled through the luscious gardens, she began to imagine presiding over a Council of followers that were compliant and subservient; not the free thinking mess that it had become. All the years of playing their game had come to an end; soon it was her turn to rule. Soon it would be the age of Myril, and the ultimate wrong will have finally been righted.

  —

  Lyarran Vessel Dark Light;

  Unmapped Space Outside the Lyarran System

  “Tight fit.” Bryx’s voice boomed in the cavernous shuttle bay as he commented on the clearance; or lack thereof; with the dreadnaught hiding within the bowels of the Dark Light.

  “Well, neither your ships nor the Fleet specifications were ever designed for this.” Lyxia shot back.

  Normally she would be more intimidated by his presence. After all, the ten foot tall monolith was imposing just by being near, never mind the threat of his legendary fighting prowess. But in recent days, she got to bear witness to the power held within Aen and the horrific results he left behind as he disposed of the prisoners in less than an afterthought. Next to Aen, Bryx was little more than a club compared to a plasma rifle; the sheer destructive potential was epically different.

  “You have changed, child.” Bryx observed. “You have aged much since we last met.”

  “For the better I hope?” she asked as she turned to lead him to the lifts; they had an interrogation to do and Aen had softened her up already.

  “You are much stronger; your experiences have hardened you.” He began as they entered the lift and the doors closed. “But at the same time, he has opened
your heart and weakened you in a way that only a true killer could see. Love is a great and powerful thing, but it allows those who wish evil upon you, a way to break you.”

  He was right, despite the fact that it aggravated her to no end. She had changed since this all had started, and though she felt different her feelings for Aen left her feeling vulnerable and exposed. Lyxia stood proud with tradition and honor, and this new weakness made her feel disconnected with the person she had built herself up to be her whole life.

  “You talk like you know what is yet to come.” She shot out at him; curious to see what she could draw from such a closed off being. “They speak of a dark force looming on the horizon; yet I have not heard mention yet of the Husk in all this.”

  “There are far darker things lurking in the shadows.” He scowled down at her. “The Husk are the evil we know, but beyond them there are things that the mightiest of the J’Karin will cower in terror from; things that draw closer as we are at our weakest. None of us have known the true darkness yet to befall us, but I am pleased that we have Iana to lead like a lantern in the night.”

  “And what of Aen?” she asked. “Do you not believe in him too?”

  The lift opened and revealed the city within the behemoth ship; the mixing pot of the everyday people and needs that made years alone in space bearable in such long range craft. Immediately, they were greeted by the smell of fresh produce and pastries along with spices and fragrances from around the Empire. In a sense, it was like being at the center of Pax with the hustle and bustle of the oldest cities in the Empire pulling them in. Bryx took a step out of the lift and looked back at her.

  “He has done much to show his power.” He began. “But times like those we have yet to face, will test the heart of a true warrior. It is what endears your people to me; it’s what drives mine and is the last looming question to which I have of him. I have seen those with immense power seem just and true, but become corrupt from that they wield and falter. I have been at the mercy of those leaders, and only by the mercy of the Empress was I freed from such a nightmare. It is on this dangerous precipice I see him on, and my allegiance will follow, depending on which way he chooses.”

 

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