INIQUITOUS DOMINION: The Galactic Classic

by Justin Conley

  The throne room door opened and King Hector saw Cassio bleeding on the marble floor. His eyes amped up and feasted on one of them with the gun in his hand. Hector took one of the Democrat Guards’ swords and stabbed him repeatedly on the floor.

  He screamed to the other guards to get help as he grabbed Cassio’s head from the floor and put his hand on the hole in his stomach. The blood was rising through his fingers. Cassio started breathing hard.

  “Don’t worry,” Hector said painstakingly. “Everything’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. I’ll make sure of that.”

  “I’m not worried about it,” Cassio whispered. “I finally got to see you. I’ll be happy when my name is among the stars."

  “You’re not going to pass on. Not yet, damn it!”

  Hector couldn't get himself together. He shook the spot Cassio was on with his obese body. He was a good cushion for Cassio’s head.

  “I met your mother for a third time,” Cassio said.

  “What?”

  “She came to me when I was in Zestir. She told me that you expelled her from Crystal Metropolis. She wanted me to come and helped you. She was passionate about it. That was how I knew I could never compare to you. She loved you so very much. I pushed her away and she still fought for you. She just wanted you to be a good ruler.”

  Hector shed tears. Cassio felt one on his cheek.

  Cassio closed his eyes, feeling the life sinking from him. With a final thought, he hoped that Menelaus would carry the word and make everyone know the time has come because he was about to wither to dust.

  In seeing Cassio Ramirez clinging to death, Hector saw his kingship hanging on by a thread.

  “I love you, Father,” Hector whispered as he grabbed any skin from his body. He let out one of the loudest screams he ever mustered from his lungs. It echoed among the halls that housed an array of historical moments.

  This was not the sound of a tyrant or a god. It was the cry of anguish for an answer that will never come in time…

  ****

  Solaria prepared for the worse. They knew that the Democrat Guards of Crystal Metropolis Army was coming close and were known for their unpredictability. Their campaigns in the Hallow Points prove as much, wiping out tribes and proving to be more than just an opponent for the Byzants, who escaped to Solaria after the Democrat Guards destroyed their homes.

  Some of the soldiers and pilots went into the city itself so they could get some clear shots on the upcoming enemy while the others remained in the desert. There were many hiding places in both sections of the planet.

  This was Solaria’s personal statement. Their Force of Arms.

  Solaria was once again a prize. Either they would win and become independent or lose and once again become a Santos client kingdom. The Byzants were determined not to let it happen; even if every single being had to sacrifice their life for it.

  Lucius and Iago sat together in a café on some time off. Lucius seemed distant and Iago was quiet.

  “Are you okay?” Iago asked.

  “Just got a lot on my mind,” Lucius said. "I’ll shake it off.”

  “Nothing wrong with that. Do you think we might get out of this one?”

  Lucius was positive about staying alive the first time he fought a war. This time, however, he gestured confusion. "You mind if I ask you a question?”

  “Sure,” Iago said.

  "How did you get into Second Renaissance?”

  Iago told him, “I needed some stability in my life. Learning the Code provided that for me. It has given me a better sense of life in this galaxy. It really opened my eyes. You should give it a chance, or it’ll be too late to beg forgiveness to the gods.”

  “And why would I do that?”

  “Something’s bothering you and it’s eating you alive.”​

  “I’m not worrying about it.”

  “But you should.”

  “I don’t care about the gods.”

  Then, coming into the café was Juliet and Diana. The former lovely couple locked eyes immediately. Iago observed the gazes and could tell that nothing was resolved.

  “What’s going on with you and Juliet?” Iago asked. “You two have been giving each other the evil eye since you came here.”

  “It’s nothing,” Lucius said. "Nothing I can’t handle.” He got up quickly, as if someone rushed him to leave.

  Iago got his attention and said, “You need to think about what I’ve said. In fact, you can start by asking the gods how you’re going to forgive Juliet for whatever you did.”

  Lucius left with that thought of how Iago knew it was his fault what Juliet was feeling. But Iago was correct. From the time he took the job for Ichiamo to the move to Crystal Metropolis to his time with Isabella, he had been the whole cause of the tension.

  Going outside, he walked around the streets and the buildings in the urban area near Ellsinore. He went from place to place, trying to make some sense out of everything. There was no more young blood flowing in his veins and all he wanted was to find a little peace.

  Then, he stayed at one place, finding himself in the same position. He was alone, on a higher elevation from the ground, staring at the sky and thinking about the certain end to everything. He thought about the talk he had with Ichiamo, and something dawned on him.

  "Is this what you meant by a republic?"

  The days of the Santos family will soon end, Ichiamo told him at one point.

  "If Hector dies, he would be the last. So what happens after that? Peace? Chaos? Nothing?"

  Before he could think of some answers, Juliet entered into the picture. She tapped him on the shoulder. Lucius wanted to escape from there, but Juliet stopped him.

  “Don’t,” she said. “We need to discuss this.”

  “I don’t care,” Lucius said impatiently. “You already made your mind up. I’ll accept.”

  “Lucius, I don’t want to end things like this. I want us to stay friends. It’s not like we can’t be that way, can we?”

  “I don’t know if I can’t be anything to you or anyone else.”

  “I know you’re not that angry with the universe.”

  “How do you know?”

  Juliet shrugged. “We may not make it. I just want you to know that no matter what, I forgive you. Right now, we have to think about these people. We have to think about fighting the good fight.”

  She was right. This was a time of war and the time for sorrow and pity couldn't enter the realm of aggression.

  Lucius went to Juliet and hugged her tight.

  "I would pray to the gods that you’re safe out there,” Juliet said.

  Then, from out of nowhere, the ground rumbled hastily. Fire and smoke arose from a building they were near. Then came more explosions and more fire. Lucius and Juliet could see missiles falling down from the sky. Motherships entered Solaria's stratosphere firing every piece of firepower they had on them.

  The Battle of Solaria had begun.

  All Lucius could think about was finding a plane so he could fly and keep everyone safe. Looking up at the sky, they were two major, field-sized carrier flagships. Coming out of their hatches were Didiuses and Thraxes firing lasers from a distance like wasps fluttering, killing anything it touches.

  The couple could see others looking for some arsenal as well. Some found it in guns while there were tanks in the area to get into. They went in and started blasting the planes down. Something different about these planes that Lucius never seen before. The planes were flying as if they wanted to crash, like they could not take life anymore. Some flew to different buildings to make them fall. Some went into other planes coming in to attack them so they could explode.

  This was a dangerous style of air fight. He realized that the real objective was simple: suicidal warfare. Down to the last man.

  There were some old cars driving to the city area where the heavy fighting occurred. Lucius managed to get Juliet out of harm’s way so she could get her medical aids to help the
wounded. He could Iago doing his job with his group of doctors in helping people.

  He still couldn't find a plane.

  From the sky, bodies were coming out of the planes, only to get caught in the crossfire of the enemy. He hoped into a car and was zooming all over the street.

  Lucius found an abandoned airport where some planes were getting ready to blast off. He hopped into one of the most heavily-armed fighters in Solaria, the cantar fighters. It was the best plane anyone could fly, with enough firepower to take out a massive flagship.

  That was his complete intention.

  He flew up to the sky with warp speed, with all the intentions of going on top of the ship and attacking its exterior. He did not care about the other planes going into the city. If he could destroyed one of the flagships, then it was a blow for Hector Santos.

  He flown by one of the flagships and attacked the guns and robots on top and the side to it, single-handedly. Everything in the skies was handled in the skies. Lucius found his niche. He felt like the young warrior in the Force of Arms War. The aerial battlefield in the stars was his home away from home. His laser fire was him knocking on the door of the Aventine Monarch just to say he has returned.

  ****

  Nighttime crept into Solaria, but the attacks continued. The planes had carried itself to the desert. Missiles flew everywhere. Every Solarian was active. Some flew the skies. Some fought on the land when the flagships dropped single-wheeled mobile tanks. Others were taking care of the sick and wounded.

  There was one who was up on the roof, seeing the battle from a distance. He had an important job: standing on the cliff and literally be statue-like symbol for the Second Renaissancers. At the same time, behind him, the children of soldiers and inhabitants hid inside a cave.

  Kasuto prayed. Every word, he wanted to make sure counted. “Bless the fighters of your grace. Bless the enemies of your grace.”

  The fighting got heavy, but Kasuto made sure he was visible. It was the only way they could fight and keep their hope alive. Kasuto was gaining momentum with his approach, even if his alter ego, Chosen Toshio of the Traveling Byzants, wished he were out there fighting.

  ****

  The other medics in the area sent more and more people inside the bunkers they had made years ago to tend to soldiers. Iago tried his best to bring some order to everyone, but the pain from the soldiers was drowning his notion. The nurses, most of them no older than twenty, were panicking as well.

  Only people like Juliet Barao and Diana Cartier were able to keep their panic to a whisper. Juliet thought about her husband while Diana thought about her other friends.

  Sylvia was out there as a medic, trying to find more wounded.

  “This is crazy,” Diana told Juliet, who was by her when they were guiding the wounded into different rooms to get fixed up.

  “I know,” Juliet said. "I’m worry about Lucius. He’s out there fighting.”

  “Lucius is a good fighter. I’m sure that he’ll get out of this alive.”

  “I don’t know about this time.”

  Diana formed tears, but from the smell of blood and flesh burning than from the sadness inside.

  ****

  The battle lasted for days. Hardened and rebellious Solarians were fighting with all the power in their bodies and all the machines they could mustered at once. They met the Democrat Guards with so much resistance, but the disciplined Democrat Guards have been in tight positions like this before and kept applying pressure every day.

  By the time the fighting hit a fever pitch, both sides were tired. The Democrat Guards could see what the past Santos kings and soldiers before him realized. Solaria was too big and too strong to be conquered outright by one pitch battle. Seeing that despite having the upper hand they were no close to breaking the fighting spirit of the Solarians, the commanders ordered the Democrat Guard to retreat.

  The Solarians observed the damaged flagships leaving their stratosphere. When the last planes exited their stage, only then did they realized the nearly impossible.

  Some would have lost friends and love ones and never recovered. Others would know inside and remembered the days that a bunch of men and women from the largest planet in the ATM showed their might against the fearsome Democrat Guards of the Santos kings in an all-out slugfest.

  What they didn't know was that in the confines of space, there was more activity going on that would cause more noise than their battle. The tide was turning as Solaria was the first of the planets to rebel and win.

  They wouldn't be the last...

  ****

  Crystal Metropolis was crashing down. It had just come from a devastating fire and in the moment during the days of the Battle of Solaria, it was facing demoralizing riots.

  The people of the ATM had come together. Using the Dreamweaver and the Focus, the message from Second Renaissance had come out. The man who tried to lead the operation, Strator Menelaus, didn't have to do much to antagonize the masses. All he had to do was be there to pick up the rings when it all went down.

  When The ATM found out what was going on in Solaria, most could only think one way: the Santos name was being taken into the mud; the past Santos kings wouldn't have pushed so much to prove a point, only to end with the entire galaxy rebelling against the royal family.

  In their eyes, Nero Santos would have been disgusted.

  The Democrat Guards, known for handling problems on the planet like this throughout all the years, was having a hard time handling these small riots. Some of them just left the fighting altogether. It wasn't worth dealing it for a king that was fully responsible for the hate of the people. Some of them did something better and led rioters into the Santos Palace.

  Meanwhile, inside the palace, Hector Bozario Santos was alone in the throne. There were a few loyal cursers, asking what he was going to do. Hector ignored all of them and the news given to them about other ATM planets.

  He tuned out all outside noise. He knew the end was coming, but he had one little trick up his sleeve.

  While he was thinking about this, the doors of the Santos Palace were coming down. Bullets flew from all over when everyone and their parents tried to come in and get a piece of Hector Santos. Everyone in the same room with Hector ran and hid for their lives. Hector continued to sit there and soak it all inside.

  More knocks and screams came from outside the doors of the throne room. Hector stood up; then slowly and gradually, he went down the steps that lead to the throne. He stared straight at the doors, not taking his eyes off of it, even when he tripped a little coming down.

  There was no worry there. No more anger. No more emotion.

  People broke the doors down, but Hector walked closer and closer to it. More and more pushing came from the doors until small holes started getting bigger. There was no escape. Hector stood motionless.

  Finally, the doors came open and people came flooding in with an assortment of weapons at the ready. They stood still as Hector raised his arms in the air without a weapon in his hand. Some have never seen the king up close and before their eyes, they observed a porky man who looked like he ate gods for snacks.

  After being on the throne for so long, dodging assassinations attempts from his loyal supporters, including his mother, here he was before the people not as a godly figure as the facade went since the days of Nero Santos. He was flesh and blood; no different than the hard workers of the land.

  In his head, he saw this as the final act in a long play he had written in his head. It was the only way that it could end.

  This was Hector’s death. He had committed matricide, fratricide, homicide, and now came the final –cide to his life’s work: suicide.

  With his arms stretched out and nowhere to go, the people of Crystal Metropolis pounced on him and hit the king with everything they had as Hector basically let them. They stabbed him with swords, shot him with small pistols, stomped him with their feet. One even took a mixture of manure and piss they were going to throw into the
streets and poured it all over his face. Some just grabbed pieces of his clothing just to say they did something to him.

  When the carnage was done to the king, they went to the rest of the palace taking anything of value not tied or hammered down.

  In the end, everyone was in cheers. A little kid held the head of the last of the Santos family after one of the Democrat Guards decided to commit one last act of defiance. He was carried upon the shoulders of the people and paraded all over the Santos Palace; then outside the streets of Crystal Metropolis.

  Hector Bozario Lysander Santos would go down in the ATM history books as the worst death to ever befall on a Santos king next to the massacre of the Priams, and the riots would go down as the first step to change…