Alliance

by Bruce S Larson

  The same forces assailed them. Gravity reached out from the Red Giant and the star-scale machine holding its expansion. Eddies and ripples of force from the Iron Work made ascending to open space more difficult. Uruk had no vast engine to propel him, only his claws against the hellship’s steel. They were powered only by tired muscles, but also an indomitable will.

  A gulf of red flame raged ahead him. He sought to enter it. It was the ship’s aegis of hellfire, and he was a demon. This was not his ship, and the interior was likely still at war. The demons of his unit were likely slain. Yet he lived. The ship was not ionized ash. Perhaps there was room for another concept he rarely considered, that odd capacity he saw so often in alien species know as hope.

  After a few more claw pulls along the aft beams, the familiar scorching sensation brought a moment of relief. Then, he gathered his strength for more combat. It might be with sword, or with words. The conquest would be in the minds of others. He hoped future, verbal exchanges would go better than his meeting with Voltris. His corpse was probably still on the bridge where Uruk thrust his sword through him to end a leadership dispute. Uruk had a headache, then. He felt better now.

  Within the ship’s interior, Uruk did not prowl for long before his first encounter. A squad of five demons looked over the result of a recent skirmish. Eleven dead Ignitaurs lay pitched before them. The insurgents’ muscular, semi-bovine frames were now a long, riddled mass. The demons’ attention and rifle muzzles spun toward Uruk who remained resolute with a fixed stare sharper than demon bayonets.

  The squad of demons glanced down at the dead Ignitaurs. They glanced at Uruk. They saw the golden burnish on his thorns. They knew he was not Tobruk, their Field Master who had left with Lord Xuxuhr and, like him, was now dead. But he was a demon of high rank, and there was an enemy not from Hell on the ship. So far, no one from their horde had taken overall command. And he, this strange demon, bore the rank of Field Master. Along with glances, the unit seemed to exchange such similar thoughts among looks of confusion. Each sought direction from the other. The demon closest to Uruk stood and faced him. He then presented his weapon as a salute to Uruk. The others followed his lead. Uruk nodded. He walked between them and over the dead Ignitaurs. His new recruits followed.

  Uruk’s sense of relief increased.

  “The demons—sir! They have diverted!” Chelnar exclaimed as he read incoming data at his bridge station on the Sword Wing. A screen showed the demon mass as a graphic swarm over his right shoulder.

  “They are not engaging the ships.” Roelar said as calm confirmation. He turned to Buran. “Should we order the fleet to open fire on them?”

  “No.” Buran answered. “Concentrate on the approaching hellship.”

  “Sir,” Chelnar said to Roelar with a quavering voice. “I must divert main engine thrust for navigation to compensate for the hellship’s gravitational influence. Our intended position is still within the planet’s gravity well.”

  “Precisely.” Buran said. “Continue to the ordered location.”

  Roelar heard the term gravity well and thought nothing of it. Then it hit him as a sudden jolt. He understood Buran’s likely next maneuver.

  Roelar placed his hand to his ear. “Sir, various captains—”

  “Incoming formation!” Chelnar shouted.

  The left-side projection flashed a live view of a second, swarm-like mass that sped toward the fleet from beneath the planet’s southern pole. On the main screen, several ships broke from the fleet for open space. Buran knew the second formation was a massed wave of hellship missiles fired by its captain in anticipation that the Sword Wing and fleet would engage him together. The missiles were to force them closer.

  “Evade—” Buran began a command, but halted his speech and spoke a second command to the ship itself. “Execute calculation, branch thirty six, leaf nine.”

  The ship responded, instantly. Roelar and the bridge crew watched as the view of the projected fleet pitched up from the formations ahead of them. Equilibrium fields and implants thwarted the crew from sailing across the bridge as many minds expected when seeing the sudden maneuvers. The Sword Wing ceased moving as a deliberate, triangular dreadnought and behaved like a bird of prey in flight. It accelerated toward the rear of the fleet at an ascending angle.

  The Sword Wing reached the formation’s apex, and began a loop timed to keep the mass of the fleet between the Sword Wing and the incoming missiles. The ship arced around the massed warcraft while spinning to avoid outlying craft. The ship dove along the calculated arc under the fleet and toward the southern hemisphere of Tectus as it gained speed. Trailing missiles exploded against its force shields as it closed on the center of the gravity well created by the hellship and the planet.

  Roelar did not know to feel disgust or relief as Buran’s plan was realized. The dim stars on screen suddenly vanished.

  Proxis watched as his missiles shattered the invaders surviving formation. Nevertheless, he gnashed his pointed teeth and slashed the air with his fist as he indulged a moment of rage. The Sword Wing had entered a sling portal and fled to a point unknown. With its speed and mass, that point was certainly very distant. His prize had escaped.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Anguhr held the sword. It was forged in Hell, yet proved a wedge between him and the Dark Urge. He did not play the personal message recorded long ago and placed within the sword for him, alone. The message was from his mother, Azuhr. It confirmed his true origins and forced him to realize his personification, his imago, of War was a distant echo of his mother’s presence. They had bonded emotionally after his birth. Azuhr lived on in his mind as a misunderstood memory. The deep connection to it transcended and thus weakened his devotion to the Dark Urge. Ultimately, the base of his own, inner faith was not glory in combat or victory over enemies. It was the remnant of Azuhr’s selfless love for him.

  The first time Anguhr experienced Azuhr’s message, the shock of the truth caused him to shatter a mountain. Now, the vessel of that message was his again, but he chose to hold the ancient weapon in silence before returning to his horde. The moment was shorter than he anticipated.

  “It is somewhat ironic you hold a sword and are at peace.”

  Anguhr heard the familiar, feminine voice. The same voice once held a physical presence with enough power and skill to kill General Xuxuhr with different, double-edged sword.

  “Zaria. Old sunlight.” Anguhr looked up. “Yet all I see is darkness. Why do you hide in the folds of other dimensions?”

  “I exist in many ways, slayer of Titans.” Zaria’s voice echoed from all directions.

  Anguhr considered that only one body lay near him, yet Zaria referred to multiple Titans. She knew this enemy was a fusion of three. Thus, the reason she had given him the resonance signal of Azuhr’s missing sword was more than beneficence.

  “They were quite remarkable. Unique.” Zaria observed.

  “You knew they had what I wanted.” Anguhr growled. “The sword is rightfully mine. They would not give it to me, willingly.”

  “Did you ask them?” Zaria’s disembodied voice carried a hint of teasing.

  Though he could see no one, Anguhr’s reply was an incredulous stare of burning eyes from within his helmet.

  “Did you send me to make friends?” Anguhr asked, sharply. “You sent me here, and likely manipulated them to the same world. Thus, the indigenous people here became the first ever liberated from invaders by demons, and not their conquered victims. That is unique.”

  “You do yourself an injustice, General. I knew you would defeat the Titans, but the liberation of Tectus is a bonus. I did not bring the Titans, nor the invaders. It was you who forbade your demons from warring on the native people. There is hope for you, ethically.”

  “They are obviously colonists, and have no weapons. None for war.” Anguhr gazed in the direction of the Hull. “The invaders set upon them as vultures, not hawks. I dislike vultures.”

  “More than scavengers can co
me for easy spoils. There is one ship among the invaders. It is a powerful warship. Perhaps your ship’s equal.”

  “Doubtful. And doubtful its captain has ever faced an opponent such as Proxis. He will prevail.”

  “Such faith. But well placed. Yet you move forward with little more than faith in your power. As you know from that sword, faith can be challenged. As the Titans showed, so can you, Anguhr.”

  “Challenged. Not beaten.”

  “Again, a statement of faith.” Zaria paused as if to draw in a breath before her next point. “You have power, both personal and in your loyal horde and ship. But you have no intelligence.”

  Anguhr lifted the sword and looked for a target to strike.

  “Intelligence network.” Zaria said to clarify.

  “I have no need of spies.” Anguhr said while turning with the sword in both hands.

  “But you have need of data,” Zaria replied. “When you served Hell, the Great Widow gave you relevant data for your conquests. Now you sail blind.”

  “I have a direction. A purpose.” Anguhr said and lowered the sword.

  “And your demons?”

  Anguhr arched his left eyebrow.

  “And what of any systems that may ally with you, should you build your desired empire?”

  “They would know my leadership,” Anguhr gave himself a slow, confident nod. “Just as with my horde. Demons are powerful warriors. All will see I am their leader, their lord. Logic dictates all others will follow me as well.”

  “You trust loyalty of alien civilizations to follow you as faithfully as your horde? You are certain that will bind your empire, not fear?”

  Zaria anticipated Anguhr would accuse her of being afraid because she had no detectable presence. She manifested as a white sun that transformed into the nearly human, luminous female face with long, blonde hair that Anguhr last saw vanish from his bridge with her partner Gin.

  Anguhr tilted his head slightly as his eyes narrowed at Zaria’s new form.

  “I am your friend, Anguhr. But I bid you to take a lesson from your father. He held power, but saw its limits. He ruled a powerful military, but also made alliances. Sargon’s power came from his ability to balance competing desires and expectations.”

  “And he died.” Anguhr replied in a low voice.

  “Yes. While saving your life. And hoping to save your mother. But they died, yes. And you lived.”

  “I survived.” Anguhr glanced at Azuhr’s sword. He looked back at Zaria and his voice grew louder with each word. “I was stronger than Hell, than the Dark Urge and her machine womb she thrust me into. Stronger than the Great Widow, who tied me to her quantum web.”

  “Your strength came from your parents.” Zaria said with calm. “Now look to their example. They sacrificed empires and glory for love.”

  A low growl echoed from inside Anguhr’s helmet.

  “You scoff?” Zaria asked. “Then you scoff at your own creation.”

  Anguhr drew in a deep breath of thin air and dust. “Do not tell me what is in my own mind.”

  “Your mind is your own, but you have a legacy. Your parents were born in Hell. The Dark Urge made Azuhr on her own, but she had learned to make life with me. She and I created the Keepers, who became the Khans. Sargon was the greatest of them. Thus, I have a part in your genesis, and I care about your future.”

  Anguhr made a sudden, loud bark just as one of his demons before he spoke. “My future, or perhaps my empire? Your interest will reach a zenith when I have built it. You guard your world well from outer powers, in many ways.”

  “You misunderstand.” Zaria slowly blinked as she made an audible sigh. “I do not seek any part of your future empire. I could have humbled your father and then ruled the greatest empire ever known. But why would I?”

  “Then what do you seek with me?” Anguhr asked. His tone of growing suspicion was clear. He released his left hand on the sword, and pointed at Zaria and then out to space as he spoke. “We fought against Hell and the Dark Urge when she threatened us both. Later you told me how to find the sword. Now I have it back and you know how I will use it. Yet here you are bringing challenges to me. Do you know your own mind, sunlight? What drives you here across the galaxy? To be aggravation?”

  “You wanted the sword.” Zaria appeared to take a breath. “I wanted to stop the Fire Titan. Again, our goals coincided. Again, ultimately, good is victorious.”

  “Good? I am victorious!” Anguhr struck his chest with his free fist. “But I do not wish to be your instrument, or your thrall led by half-truths.”

  “Now you speak in semi-falsehood.” Zaria’s head lowered in resignation. She looked back at Anguhr with disappointment at herself from stoking his always-smoldering rage. “You would have come and fought fifty Titans. All for a prize. My goal was to stop a greater evil that, again, threatened life. I mark that as a greater purpose than building an empire and proclaiming oneself its almighty ruler.”

  “You say this, as half-mother of the Khans, the first galactic conquerors.” Anguhr snapped.

  “Yes. I made a compromise with my sister, to conquer, not annihilate. I should have fought her then. But I, like her, was afraid of the future. So I bargained with the lives of the galaxy. Now, I act to defend life. The lesson that led me to this choice was hard learned.”

  “The choice I make is to build.” Anguhr thrust the sword point toward the dim stars. “Yes, as a ruler, but the galaxy is shattered. I can give it structure and order.”

  “Anguhr, the Preserver.” Zaria mused, and then sighed. “But that is an old dream, though you likely think it new. As did the Fire Titan. But think also of the lives of each demon that may perish wherever you attack.”

  “They follow me because I fight with them.” Anguhr extended the sword over to the direction of the Hull. “I ask nothing more of them than I am willing to do. Thus, they are loyal.”

  “Thus they follow. But to what end? A prize. A piece of metal?”

  Anguhr drew another deep breath to yell at Zaria, but held it as her words resonated in his mind. He looked at the sword.

  “What did the sword tell you when you first grasped it? The truth, Azarak, later Anguhr.” Zaria said. “I only tell you the truth. In time, more truths will come to aid you, or, in the least, delay you. One truth is about your horde. They may be demons, but once recognized, they begin to think. They become self-aware.”

  “It changes nothing. They follow me, as I act as one of them.”

  “Will they all always want to follow you? What if some wish a different path than what you decide?”

  “We are a horde.” Anguhr said. His words were low as he realized all of Hell was once united, and he then fought it as a rebel. Zaria didn’t need to make that point.

  “I know your power, Anguhr. Yet imagine if you only fought alone, as sole warrior. How long would you last, even with all your strength?”

  Anguhr was silent. The idea struck him as almost bizarre. He had never known a life as anything but a General. Zaria’s question gave him greater pause than a blow by the Fire Titan.

  “So you see that your greatest power comes from your leadership.”

  “They follow me. So have they always.” Anguhr said more to reassure himself. He inverted the sword blade and sunk it slowly into the ground. Then he cast a hard stare at Zaria.

  “And so, forever?” Zaria paused considering Anguhr’s ebbed rage but lingering suspicion of her. “What I speak of is more subtle than open rebellion. I speak of awareness. Individual identity. You have shown them the lie of the Dark Urge, which they are willing to accept because they believe in you more strongly than any promise made from her worship. But some of them may well tire of constant war when they know life has more than conquest. Your parents, even your demon mother, came to know this.”

  “They came to know oblivion.” Anguhr growled. “Is that not the lesson they teach from death?”

  “Is that all you choose to believe? Sargon and Azuhr didn’t seek de
ath. It was brought upon them by treachery. Had they lived, do you think they would still be fighting?”

  “They would have an empire.” Anguhr countered.

  “Empire or freedom?” Zaria asked. Her eyes brightened to entreat Anguhr. “One is not the other. Your parents wanted each other more than the destiny set for them.”

  “Once I have my empire, then I will have freedom. And my demons, also, should they so choose it.” Anguhr spoke with confidence. For him, the debate was over. He wished to rejoin his horde. Anguhr turned to walk toward the site of Solok’s victory over the invader army.

  Zaria paused. She knew her next words would provoke Anguhr more than anything else she had said on purpose or from emotion.

  “Until then, you can promise Proxis, Solok, and every demon the reward of becoming a brick in your empire. Just as the Dark Urge promised them. But will your promise have any greater substance than hers?”

  Anguhr froze in his steps and turned to Zaria. “You compare me to the greatest of all liars!”

  Rage flared within Anguhr. He raised the sword to strike out at Zaria’s staring face.

  “You tried to strike me down before, Anguhr. When I revealed things you could not accept. But you did accept them. It took a grander display of rage than this, but you did realize the truth.”

  “The truth!” Anguhr charged, but suddenly ran toward empty air. He spun to find Zaria. “You used that truth of my birth to crush your sister—through me! With my strength and my horde! Just as you use us now! And you dare talk of freedom?”

  “You did not need to come for Azuhr’s sword, Anguhr.” Zaria reappeared in her emerald armor but in a glowing form that towered over the giant demon. “I did not manipulate you so much as tell you a fact. You decided to come take it, and so you committed your horde to attack. For now, they follow without question. The people of Tectus are undoubtedly glad they did. That their liberty results from your personal quest is irrelevant to them. So long as they see the hellship sail back into space. For that, all they can do is hope.”