As I took my place, the room fell to a hushed silence. A small crowd of remaining elites, no more than 500, filled to capacity the small auditorium aboard the UEA Construction facility; she was serving a purpose for which she was never designed.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, Citizens of Sol,” I began, launching into my monologue.
“We have survived, we have endured, and in that, I stand in front of you today and tell you that we have won, and secured peace and our place in the Galaxy. Though the attacker was savage, and utilized the weakness in our own people to try and bring us down in the likes of Snow Dawkins and Jon Harper, we have endured their trial, we have thrown back their gauntlet and have carved our place out of the eternal night.
“At the announcing of our Gate network, I spoke to all of you about how these stars are our home, how they are our cosmic endowment and nothing would deny them to us. There has always been a heavy price for freedom, but as future generations take the place of this one, as the scars of this invasion heal, our children and our children’s children, will be able to hold their heads up high, and grow up in a strong and united Solar Empire that stretches out across the Galaxy, that is their undisputed home and legacy. That is what we have bought with our blood; that is what we have earned with our defiance.
“I tell you the truth. The grey shrouded mourning of our planet will not be forever. We will rebuild it again, and I will lead you in that glorious endeavor, rising from the ashes, as the beautiful blue Jewel in the center of the crown of a glorious human republic.
Long Live Earth, Long Live Sol System and may her peoples ever prosper in defiance of the eternal night.“
It wasn’t my strongest speech, but it was good enough.
For the second time today, I was moving back through the airlock aboard the Hammer, but this time, to gain reprieve from the desperate, seething throng of peasants.
The ship was to get underway in a few hours towards the Corvaldian system. Travel was still slow out of earth, given the orbital debris from the battle. Every night, there was a meteor shower, and large chunks were still impacting continents and rarely, cities.
It was the nuclear material contained in some of it that was going to prove the most bothersome.
Still with six weeks before the Treaty of Night was to be signed, it was best to get underway.
I settled into the VIP quarters, and made myself comfortable for the long journey. Wield was away on a small assignment I had given him, thus, I poured my own glass of wine. It was an excellent vintage from another life, a few hundred years ago, when I had owned a winery in France.
Sipping the intoxicating beverage, and gazing out at the stars drew me once again to reflection. Things were greatly simpler back then; it was a smaller thing to have power, and now, with an empire that stretched out amongst the stars, much like my original birthright, I was only now realizing how limiting my time imprisoned on Earth had been.
My many-millennia-long quest for revenge and quest to claim what was rightfully mine, was made perfect by patience, and now, I was finally within reach of it, even after my people had forgotten me, had forgotten their own name.
Mendian… Bah! We are Nasarian! Ours is an ancient, name, ours is an ancient legacy and burden that is not to be thrown off for any crisis or reason.
Darnack’s head would have ridden upon a pike for that insult in my day.
He had bred weakness and placidity into my people. He had corrupted them. After 5500 years of patience, they emerged weak, broken, a shadow of what they were. They had forgotten everything, and the traitor still lived.
Still, it did not matter that they had forgotten. I had risen up, from my chains, from the shadows and now I would force them to remember, and regret.
A chime sounded before the familiar voice of Paladin Wield flowed over the speaker, informing me my diversion was waiting. Setting the glass on the table, I rose and hurried to the prearranged location.
Deck 36 aboard the Hammer was largely unremarkable, and currently not even active. The ship was being rushed into service, and parts of her were being brought online this trip. Still, it did have one thing that was incredibly useful for this moment. A functional airlock.
Two Paladins stood at each side of a beaten and bloody Alice Bolter; she was gagged, and her eyes bore a look of pure fear and confusion, especially upon seeing my face.
The poor thing, she didn’t understand any of this.
“There’s an old saying my dear, curiosity killed the cat. You ask far too many questions to be useful, but I promise you, you won't be alone, you’re merely the first.” She mouthed some final stirring words of defiance through her gag I couldn't understand, as I punched the panel for the airlock, sliding it closed.
That’s when she started screaming.
I pressed the button, and, regardless of her protests, Alice Bolter had delivered her last exclusive.
“Thank you Paladins, that was most diverting.”
“We willing serve our Emperor,” they replied
Chapter 40
//Neural Activity Online// Logging Initiated//
I kept finding cheese puffs and evidence of their consumption all about the ship. We were nearing the Corvaldian council sphere, aboard the 889.
“Jon, it amazes me you ever rose to the rank of admiral,” I said, flatly, laying the groundwork for a joke.
“Key I’m hurt,” Jon replied, playing along.
“Seriously, how did a man like you, with a love of fake orange cheese so deep, ever survive inspections?” Jill giggled quietly to herself. This war had been raging the entire trip.
He slowly and deliberately drew one out of the cardboard box and devoured it rapturously.
“I have a winning personality you fluffy pain in the ass,” he shot back, taking me by surprise.
Jill’s fit of giggles turned into a torrent of laughter.
I narrowed my eyes, attempting to approximate a “look”. It must have been successful. An uncomfortable quiet settled as Jon and Jill both looked at me.
“Oh come on Boss. Don’t be so serious,” Jill said, breaking the tension, reaching out to ruffle my ears.
It felt like things were coming together. We were talking and laughing more, regretting less. There were daily transmissions from New Liberty to keep us busy, not to mention the extensive archive of entertainment files stored in the ship’s database.
An unexpected season of healing was found during that trip, and an utter hatred of the leavings of cheese puffs.
They leave greasy fingerprints on the glass. How does anyone stand it?
I set the ship to automatic landing guidance, and handed it over to orbital flight control. It was the 22nd. Tomorrow the treaty would be signed, and the “war” would be over. This was the eve of peace.
There was a Dominion cruiser moored in a space dock, The Hammer. Uneasy memories of my actions during the two hour war drew me away from the levity that had punctuated the room moments before.
Earth could have sent an interceptor. They instead decided to send their most powerful warship. It was a clear message, not just to the Mendians, but to the entire Galactic Council that Earth was neither beaten, cowed nor willing to go quietly.
However, as the 889 glided along, I was greeted by another sight, The Zulfiqar. The Corvaldian Earth delegation had brought their ship home for the signing of the treaty.
They had come far since the signing of the Treaty of Song, and I felt a distant sense of pride.
“It’s looking to be a reunion on the sphere,” Jill chimed in, confirming what we were all thinking.
“It’s going to be good to see that kooky space bird,” Harper chuckled.
“Be nice,” Jill scolded.
“But did you see what Earth sent?” I asked. Do you think he’s here?”
The question hung in the cabin like a ghost, as the 889 glided in gentle silence to a stop in the Galactic Council shuttle bay. With a few quick commands, the ramp lowered and we filed out.
> The world was suddenly much bigger after six weeks aboard the interceptor, and Etrana was waiting at the edge of the bay, with Darnack. Upon sight of her, she came charging up to see us again.
“The time without my dear friends has been most dim. I greet you!” she said, chirping and warbling happily.
“It’s good to see you too,” I said, feeling genuine affection. Distant memories from another life came surging forward, engendering a feeling of belonging. Jill and Jon expressed similar greetings and performed the ritualistic hugging that humans love to do.
A strange thought blossomed in that moment. Was this my family?
“Shifted One!” Darnack reached down and fuzzed my ears, ever growing in his repertoire of human gestures and behaviors.
“Should I just throw you in a tank and shift you now?” I teased, “Ever imitating human behavior.”
“I have missed your aggressive jocularity, honored speaker for our people.”
“It’s called being a smart ass,” I replied.
Deja Vu.
The night was full of celebrations and, for a while, it was as if we could all forget, but the next morning our pasts were there, challenges waiting to be taken up again.
Erebus was here. I had seen him. Emotions tore at me. I wanted to kill him, but here, of all places and times, I couldn’t, but that wasn’t all that I felt.
Part of me desperately wanted to talk to him. I knew he would never tell me the truth. I knew that he was the demon of my nightmares, but he also was the only one that had answers to questions that burned deep within me. Something I didn’t understand, I was desperate to ask him why, even if I already knew those answers.
I may have used my abilities inherited from Thoth to gain high level access to the sphere’s network and systems through the Link protocol. I may have tracked him to a quiet “refreshment zone” on level 232.
I admit nothing.
I slipped into the bar, to find Erebus, which seemed a curious location for him, surrounded by four paladins, sitting across from a species of alien I had never seen before. Sticking to the shadows, and staying out of sight, I dove into the sphere's systems to find them speaking within the Link.
“Impressive, to battle Mendians and survive. Powerful. Our race. Interested. Perhaps. Further negotiations. To be arranged. Later date...:”
“Thank you Nisrilthon. My government looks forward to hearing more from the Viskians.” He rose, gave a slight bow, and left. At one point, he was only a few meters away, but he made no indication of seeing me.
I tailed him, from a distance, using my access to the sphere’s systems. Once back on the secured level, his security detail peeled off. He walked a while, and then, suspiciously, stopped and sat on an unoccupied bench that was set back into the wall of the station.
This was it, I had a perfect opening if I wanted to make myself known. I switched off English, engaged Latin, and hopped out.
“Thoth. I was wondering when you would decide to emerge.” He looked at his watch. “Kept me waiting fifteen minutes.”
“Before we begin… Sigma Emergency 933365 21 Alpha,” he said, making no attempt to mask his hostility.
“Sorry, that’s not going to work twice,” I shot back, with a proud sense of defiance.
“Well, you wouldn’t be able to mark it off on your super villain check list if I didn’t try. Let it not be said that I never gave you anything,” he responded in his mocking chiding tone.
“You never take anything seriously, but you effectively murdered my predecessors,” I accused, and he laughed.
“Oh it’s that conversation, is it Thoth? Here to make a stirring statement of vengeance. Are you coming for me?” That same mocking tone, the overly perfect laughter.
My right forepaw quaked with rage.
“My name, is Key. I’m not your puppet, I’m not your servant and I’m not your pawn.” The restrained fury scorched and sharpened my words.
“Oh I assure you, you’re all of those things and you aren’t alone,” he grinned. “But if it helps for you to believe that, by all means, do so. I know you think that you are somehow valuable to me, you’re not. You are convenient, and a novelty. Do you know how rare it is for me to be surprised?” His question shocked me. It was the first moment with any hint of sincerity.
“I assumed you were dead, that’s normally how these things go. It was the next thing on the agenda anyway. You were to go down during your speech, your treason revealed. All very clean. You had served your purpose. Harper pulling you out with his men, was at best a hiccup, but then you appeared in Minot, and with the process completed beyond anything I ever expected or even planned for. How curious. I really do need to sit and have a long chat with you about that.” There was a sinister, bemused growl to his resonance.
“Prepare to be disappointed,” I snapped. Trying to find his angle.
“And then, another surprise. 8,639 people died in your light show. You really are an endless source of amusement, and you got me, a hint of pride. Have I gotten this wrong? Have you taken this risk just so you could call me Dad?” he smiled, back to mocking.
White hot rage. My vision pixelated, and with it came a strum of deep fear. If I couldn't tamp down my rage, I could glitch again, and he would have me. I’d be at his mercy.
It threw ice water on my rage, and it sizzled within me, burning, stinging. The drive to annihilate him strained against the bars of my reason, screaming in feral agony.
It was like he could sense it. He pushed.
“Not in the mood? Oh well, just remember, there were three columns of morphics you weren’t able to save that I can still play with if I wish. Our recent interactions have opened my mind to new possibilities. Maybe I’ll have more luck with them,” he chuckled to himself, his eyes sparkling with a twisted blend of mirth and malice.
I said nothing. My body was tense; every ounce of my processing power was going towards keeping my emotions in control.
He rose. “Bah, this is beginning to grow dull, still, I do enjoy our little talks. There’s so few people I can be myself with.”
“Why?” I asked, finally working up the courage for that fateful question. “Why do all this?”
“Finally. I was beginning to think you would never come to it.” His demeanor defied all understanding. He stood before me like a mystery.
“That’s what you wanted from the beginning. None of this noble preamble horseshit, no stirring speeches about treaties or liberties. You want to know why I picked on you, and again you aren’t paying attention. Maybe you're not as advanced as you think you are... hmm?” Another easy chuckle; it was clear he was enjoying himself, watching me twist in the wind.
“There is nothing that makes you special, in spite of your current, novel configuration. As I said, there's almost a million morphics on three columns and I have the same access to them that I did Dawkins. None of them had access to the Mendians though. There’s no rhyme or greater reason to it, no matter how hard you look. Right place, right time, means to an end.” His grin widened, and his eyes sparkled as he let it sink in.
“You’re wrong, you awful son of bitch. There is one thing that makes me unique,” I challenged, defiantly.
He turned his back to me and left, as if I was an insect.
“I’ve survived everything you and this universe has thrown at me so far, and I assure you, I’m not done.” My chest heaved; I desperately wished I had my stolen weapon in that moment. I had a clear shot.
"For now at least," he grinned over his shoulder, gave a small wave, then left.
I wandered the sphere after that, ending up on an observation deck, staring out at the Corvaldian star field reflecting on how far I’d come.
I had faced the demon and survived, but he still lived. It was not lost on me that his first words to me were an attempt to limit my autonomy.
Distantly, I realized how stupid I had been, but still, something deep within me pushed, stupid it may have been, but I still had to have faced him.<
br />
Some events can’t be avoided. You just have to learn to work with their gravity.
Now, that was done, millions were dead, speeches given and cities lost, and still, nothing was resolved. The pieces moved on the board. Some grew stronger, while others grew weaker, but ultimately, nothing changed. New borders were drawn, life went on and new cruelties were hatched.
The ink was drying on the Treaty of Night while the three morphic columns rattled their chains quietly. The galaxy again settled into a familiar, but uneasy peace.
It had been a long journey, and for now, peace was enough.
The story continues in Book 3 of The Farthest Star series: The Farthest Star.
From the author…
And here we are... five years later, after the publication of Exile’s Return, and the day has finally come.
The production of this work has had a long and storied history, almost worthy of a novel of its own. It was over the course of creating it, that I learned what it meant to be a novelist, learned what my work meant to people, and truly came to understand what it would take to see these works to completion.
In short, it has been a labor both of love and frustration, but now, here we are. It is finished. I hope you will enjoy this latest release and join us for all the ones that follow.
Thank you all for your patience as I have wrestled with this work.
Warm Regards,
Rebecca Mickley
About Rebecca Mickley
I grew up in the middle of a cotton field with a library card. It was my ticket to adventures beyond the world I knew and experienced day to day. I grew and changed, eventually leaving that place, but the stories I gathered along the way shaped my perspective, and changed me. Now I seek to do the same for my readers.
I invite you to take up a chair by the fire, and listen as I spin my tales. I cannot always promise you a happy ending, but I can promise you an experience that you will never forget.
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