by Rick Bentsen
It was on one of these benches that S’Era Bryce was sitting dejectedly. She’d sunk into a depression over the past two days, ever since her brother and Mario had left for Brentax III. She didn’t even really know why, which was what bothered her most.
She watched the children playing tag and sighed. She wanted children of her own. She knew that much. And yet she didn’t have any idea about what she’d like in a mate. Nor had she ever really had any experience dating. Ever since her bondmate had passed away, she’d simply been turned aside, as any potential suitors always viewed her as simply a handmaiden. It did not matter that she came from a higher caste and chose the life she lead. Nor did it matter that she was the handmaiden to the High Gentlewoman herself. She never resented her role, never wished for another life for herself. She only wished that one day, a suitor might see her for who she was, rather than what her job was.
Maybe that was why she had fallen for Mario. He had no concerns over society. Indeed, he’d probably be more concerned with the social ramifications of having a beautiful woman by his side, rather than the ramifications of dating a handmaiden. No, he probably wouldn’t care about her station.
She sighed. Despite all of the wonderful people in her life, she realized, for the first time, that she was truly alone. There were only four things in her life that kept her from being totally despondent, her brother, K’Itea, Elam…
…and Mario. She couldn’t explain it to anyone even if she had wanted to, but she felt this kinship with Mario. Almost as if they were destined to be together. Of course, she hadn’t told him that was how she felt. She was too afraid that he’d laugh it off as a childish fantasy. But her heart had soared when he hadn’t said no to her request for a date. She hoped that he would say yes, but he’d said he’d needed to think about it. She suspected that he wanted to talk to K’Alan about it before giving her an answer.
And now he was off on Brentax III. And she was worried about him.
She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the children playing.
“Are you OK, S’Era?” a female voice near her said. She opened her eyes to see K’Itea standing nearby and watching her.
“No, K’Itea, I’m not,” the younger woman shook her head.
“Well, if you need someone to talk to, I’m here,” K’Itea said softly as she sat down.
“I’ll be OK,” S’Era smiled a sad smile. “So, I hear that K’Alan has plans for this park.”
“Yeah, he does,” K’Itea grinned. “He wants to turn it into a baseball field. It’s not nearly a big enough park, though, so I am not sure what he will do instead.”
“Only K’Alan would think of something like that,” S’Era chuckled. “It makes sense though. Something like that is bound to be a real moral boost to everyone.”
“I didn’t even know what baseball was until two days ago,” K’Itea sighed. “Kal had a ball and glove that he gave to Elam. He explained the rules to us. It sounds kind of fun.”
“He played in the Academy, didn’t he?” S’Era asked, vaguely remembering a letter from K’Alan describing the game.
“Yes. Apparently he was a pitcher. A fairly good one, especially since he had to learn the rules as he went,” K’Itea smiled. “I would have liked to have seen him play.”
“Me too, K’Itea.” S’Era watched the children playing and smiled to herself. “I’d like to have children one day, K’Itea,” she added softly after a while.
“I know, S’Era,” K’Itea said, patting her friend’s hand comfortingly. “I’ve seen how you are with Elam. I have no doubt you’d be a good mother.”
“Thank you, K’Itea. That means a lot to me,” S’Era smiled.
2.6.2136
1902
SLS White Knight
The Bridge
Erin settled into the command chair. She’d just come back from having an early dinner. She was supposed to report in to Admiral Bonetti sometime that evening, but she had nothing to report. It would have to be enough for the admiral.
“Lieutenant Commander Yeuid, prepare to initiate hyperspace communication with the Gamma Epsilon station,” Erin said, her voice clearly bored.
“Yes, ma’am. Hyperspace communication initiated,” Kath reported. “Holo activated now.”
John Bonetti’s head appeared in the gap made by the ring of the top level of the bridge.
“Admiral Bonetti, this is Commander Erin Sykes reporting in as ordered,” Erin said, snapping off a quick salute.
“Commander, how goes the mission?” the admiral asked.
“Uneventful, sir,” the young woman said. “No word from Captain Bryce or Colonel Bonetti, but that’s to be expected. I doubt we’ll hear from them for another twenty four hours or so.”
“As soon as M’Bek Tarmos arrives on the ship you are to immediately bring him to my office on the Gamma Epsilon station.” the admiral ordered.
“Understood,” Erin nodded. “I’ll report in as soon as I know more.”
“Good,” John nodded. “I’ll expect to hear from you in about twenty four hours then, Commander.”
“Yes, sir. Commander Sykes out.”
The holo faded and Erin closed her eyes. She gently rubbed her temples. This was going to be a very long twenty four hours. She sighed and went back to monitoring the bridge.
2.6.2136
1722
Brentax III
Brentax Militia Headquarters.
M’Bek Tarmos strode purposefully through the building that served as the headquarters for the Brentax Militia. He headed to his office and closed the door behind him. He walked around and sat down behind his desk, looking with distaste at the pile of paperwork that awaited him.
“Supreme Commander, Chancellor G’Kiron is here to see you,” one of his office staff called through his closed door.
“Send him in,” M’Bek growled. He did not know what the elderly chancellor wanted, but it would be a good distraction from the paperwork.
Chancellor G’Kiron strode in, his large frame barely fitting through the door. G’Kiron had no last name. Some thought it was a symbol of dishonor for the elderly Brentax official, but G’Kiron had made a name for himself. Once he had been the Supreme Commander of the Brentax Militia, but he had retired, healthy and whole, to the world of politics. Although he knew that the strings were really pulled by the Militia and always would be, he did his best to influence things for the better. The Chancellor knew that this war was proving to be more costly than anyone had ever realized. And so, with heavy heart, he had decided to talk to M’Bek Tarmos, Supreme Commander of the Brenax Militia, about ending this war.
“Chancellor G’Kiron!” M’Bek oozed. “It’s so good to see you. Care for a cup of kamarat root tea?”
“No thank you, Supreme Commander,” G’Kiron shook his head. “I was hoping I could have a word with you about the state of this war.”
“Glorious, isn’t it?” M’Bek smiled.
“I’m not sure I’d use the term glorious to describe it,” G’Kiron shook his head a second time. “The war has gone on for almost thirty years, M’Bek. Don’t you think we’ve made our point?”
“And what point would that be, G’Kiron?” M’Bek leaned back in his chair to look at the Brentax official. His eyes slowly narrowed as he suspected the man of cowardice.
“That the Brentax are not to be crossed,” G’Kiron said firmly. “I didn’t say that I did not agree with the war, M’Bek.”
“If you had, I would have had to have you executed for treason, G’Kiron. Watch yourself.”
“The Star League knows that we are a dominant force in this quadrant and that we’re not going to be going anywhere. They respect us, and even fear us. If we were to offer them a truce, they would not dare break it.”
“Yes, but why should we trust the Star League, G’Kiron? They have not given us much reason to trust them. They sneak attack us. They send us peace envoys and use them as lures to destroy us.”
“But we have destroyed on
e of their homeworlds. Surely they’ll remember that and quiver in fear at the thought of our doing that again and again. We do have the firepower to destroy any of their worlds we so choose.”
“So you would recommend that we throw down our arms and make peace with the sniveling worms? Is that what you are recommending, G’Kiron?” M’Bek scoffed.
“There is a great darkness on the horizon, M’Bek,” G’Kiron sighed. He knew that his plea was falling on deaf ears but he continued anyway. It’s one that can destroy even the great Brentax Empire. Surely you must remember the prophecies of the Great Thinkers.”
“Great darkness indeed,” M’Bek laughed. “Thank you for a good laugh, Chancellor. But this conversation is over. I thank you for your counsel, but the war continues.”
“It will be on your head if we are swallowed up in the darkness, M’Bek Tarmos,” G’Kiron warned gravely.
“An idle threat, I’m afraid, G’Kiron,” M’Bek guffawed.
“We’ll see, M’Bek.”
G’Kiron turned on his heel and whirled out of the office. M’Bek continued to guffaw raucously as G’Kiron strode out.
2.6.2136
1735
Brentax III
An abandoned warehouse
“All right. So who are we supposed to be meeting here?” Mario asked with his arm crossed. He started tapping his foot without even realizing it.
“A Brentax by the name of Chancellor G’Kiron,” K’Alan said as he checked his notes.
“You know anything about this G’Kiron?” Mario asked.
“Very little. Admiral Bonetti said that this Chancellor is interested in ending the war and may be able to help us get into the militia headquarters undetected.”
“But you don’t know more than that?” Mario grumbled.
“No,” K’Alan said after a pause. “But I have a gut instinct that we can trust him.”
“Let me just remind you, buddy,” Mario clapped K’Alan on the back. “These are the same folks that destroyed your homeworld. How can you trust any of them?”
“I remember,” K’Alan looked sternly at Mario. “But my gut instinct is to trust this Chancellor G’Kiron.”
“It’s your neck, buddy,” Mario shrugged. He started tapping his foot again. “I hope you’re right.”
“We’ll find out soon enough,” K’Alan said. He leaned on a crate and crossed his arms across his chest. He had heard some scuffling, and he hoped it would turn out to be the Chancellor.
“Is anyone there?” a crackly voice croaked. “This is Chancellor G’Kiron.”
Mario and K’Alan looked at each other. Mario shrugged and K’Alan slowly walked out into the open.
“Chancellor G’Kiron?” he asked in a tentative voice.
“Are you from the Star League?” the large Brentax male K’Alan saw asked.
“Yes, I am.”
“We must hurry,” Chancellor G’Kiron said. “This war must end soon.”
Chapter 13
2.6.2136
1748
Brentax III
An abandoned warehouse
CHANCELLOR G’Kiron sat on a crate looking at the two Star League soldiers. He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. A deep sigh rattled through the old man’s chest.
“Long ago,” the Chancellor began. “The Brentax Empire was not much different than the Star League. We were a peaceful empire dedicated to peaceful exploration. We were provoked into a conflict with the Tularian Empire.”
“I’ve never heard of the Tularian Empire,” Mario said.
“You would not have. We destroyed them a long time ago,” G’Kiron continued. “Once we started into that conflict, we embarked on a path of military supremacy in this quadrant. A hundred years ago, I was named the Supreme Commander of the Brentax Armada.”
“A hundred years?” K’Alan raised an eyebrow. “Just how old are you sir?”
“I have made over one hundred and fifty trips around my sun,” the old man rasped. “If I am lucky, I will have another forty or fifty years left.”
“Your people are long lived,” Mario noted. “I never knew that about the Brentax.”
The old Brentax man smiled at Mario.
“I suspect that we will find a great deal about each other’s races that we do not know,” G’Kiron noted.
“I suspect you are right,” K’Alan nodded. “Please, continue.”
“We first learned of the Star League when I was the Supreme Commander. We considered the Star League to be of little consequence. After I resigned as Supreme Commander and entered the political arena, I began to reread the old prophecies of our Great Thinkers.”
“Great Thinkers?” K’Alan asked. “Who were they?”
“Back before we became a militaristic society, we were an idealistic and thoughtful society. We had seven Great Thinkers whose prophecies shape our society. One of our Great Thinkers, N’Ron Jukar, prophesied a great darkness that would engulf this quadrant. He said that the Brentax Empire would have to align itself with another power in the quadrant in order to save ourselves from this darkness.”
“What does this have to do with the situation?” Mario asked. He turned from where he was watching out the window. “I mean, if we even believe this prophecy.”
“I believe that the prophecy refers to the Star League,” the old man finished. “We must end this war before there is no one left to stop the darkness.”
“Chancellor,” K’Alan said. “I have to tell you. Many of my people won’t accept peace with the Brentax. After the destruction of Duterius Prime…” he trailed off.
“A tragic event. And one I do not condone. You have my sincere apologies for the destruction of your planet, Captain. I wish circumstances were different.”
“So do I, Chancellor,” K’Alan nodded. “I don’t mind telling you, right after the assault on Duterius Prime, I wanted nothing more than to retaliate by destroying Brentax III.”
“I understand,” G’Kiron sighed, suddenly looking even older. “You must have lost many friends and loved ones in the destruction.”
“Fortunately, the one person I love the most wasn’t killed,” K’Alan admitted. “Had she been, I doubt I’d be on a mission designed to end this war peacefully. I’d be leading the destruction of Brentax III myself.”
“For your loved one being safe, I am grateful,” G’Kiron said. “Love is a very powerful force, even for the Brentax. Our peoples have much in common. Hopefully in time, we will be able to work peacefully together as opposed to fighting amongst each other.”
“Agreed,” K’Alan nodded as he extended his hand. G’Kiron shook K’Alan’s hand and smiled. It was a small step, but a step nonetheless.
2.6.2136
2010
Earth
President Kerrin Jameson’s office.
The President of the Star League was an attractive woman. She had short-cropped brown hair and fiery green eyes. Those green eyes were deep and knowledgeable. She was usually jovial, her thin lips pressed together in an almost perpetual smile.
She was, however, not smiling at the moment.
In fact, she was scowling. She’d just finished reading yet another casualty report, the sixth such report since the destruction of Duterius Prime. It was as if the Brentax had stepped up their efforts in ending this war by force once and for all.
And Kerrin Jameson, President of the Star League, didn’t like it one bit.
Once again, she wondered about the progress of the Gamma Strike mission to Brentax III, hoping beyond hope that it would be successful. She had no doubt in her mind that if it weren’t successful, the Star League would be hard-pressed to stop this war before it destroyed them all.
She sighed as she looked over the casualty reports. Perrin Hawks, who had just been handed a new ship, was just barely clinging to life after a devastating attack by the Brentax killed over half her crew. Perrin had barely survived as the bridge was all but destroyed.
Kerrin was deeply troubled to
see what had happened to Perrin. Perrin Hawks was a good friend. They’d grown up together in Chicago, had double dated a couple times in high school. Kerrin had laughed when Perrin had applied to the Academy, not knowing that Perrin would have a brilliant career in the Star League Defense Force. Indeed, Perrin had made Captain at just thirty years old. They refused to promote her again, saying that having someone as much of a tactical genius as Perrin Hawks anywhere but the commander of a unit was a big mistake.
In fact, there were a lot of people in the higher levels who were saying that, had anyone else been in command of the Charger, the entire crew would have been lost. As it was, the Charger would be in the space docks around Ventura Prime for several weeks, probably closer to a couple months.
The last thing Kerrin Jameson wanted to do was to have to phone Perrin’s parents and tell them their daughter had been killed in the war.
“Madame President,” a voice from her desk intercom called. “Thorrin Jade is here to see you.”
“Send him in, Jane,” Kerrin said, her exhaustion evident in her voice.
Thorrin Jade walked into the office. His diminutive stature belied the power his personality and voice exuded.
“Madame President,” he nodded in greeting.
“Thorrin,” Kerrin smiled warmly. “What can I do for you today?”
“I was hoping to get an update on the mission,” he said, his dulcet tones almost swept away in Kerrin’s large office.
“I’m afraid that there hasn’t been any word yet,” Kerrin said as she sat back in her chair. “I, for one, am hoping that this mission is quick and successful.” She glanced at the latest casualty list and shook her head.
“I agree,” he said as he looked towards the casualty list. “More casualties?”
“Yes, I was just looking at the list. It just came in. My dear friend, Perrin Hawks, was grievously hurt in one of the latest Brentax attacks. The doctors aren’t hopeful that she’ll recover.”
“I’m sorry, Kerrin,” Thorrin sighed. “We’ve all lost people close to us in this war. Captain Hawks is a very brave woman. I hope she pulls through.”