I surprise myself thinking in human terms again. Months, weeks, years. Meaningless worlds until two days ago, now an essential part of an entirely new frame of reference overlapping with the familiar Haillar background. Now I’m truly a woman of two worlds.
Asturien signals the Lore adepts recording this meeting. Only they are present apart from us, the Conclave queens.
“The talks have failed. We have failed, and hundreds of people died as a result. We’ve been remiss in our duty to protect you, and for this, we are ashamed.”
I know how much the proud Asturien might be hurt while uttering these words. Yet they need to be said, because the price for our hubris was paid by hundreds and the whole debacle nearly meant the end of Bellona. We never hide our failures from the Haillar people or from ourselves. We never point fingers, and we take full responsibility for the outcome of our decisions. This was one of the first capital rules we agreed in the early days of the Dominion.
The Lady of Light turns halfway to Verdid, starting a millennia-old ritual. Part of me watches it with familiarity, part of me in wonder through the innocent eyes of a woman-child. Liz was no child by human standards yet compared to us her life was the blink of an eye, her experiences so precious few.
“Sister of Dreams, this Council is no more,” pronounces Asturien acknowledging a state of fact. Calling the next Council is Verdid’s ancient prerogative. It’s much of a formality, as the rotation is known. Three Great Houses are stepping down, three others will take their place.
“This can be the most critical Council in the entire Dominion history” states the Queen of Dreams in a matter of fact tone, and the words sound strange coming from the mouth of her very young avatar. She looks Lazurien’s age, yet Lazurien was all joy and chatter, while Verdid’s cycles show in her eyes, in her regal demeanour.
“Two days ago, this entire system was nearly wiped out,” continues the Spymistress. “Two queens have died, and it took the full power of a third to limit the disaster. Even more momentous events are yet to come, as in ninety days we stand to meet the Scourge in a fight that could be the end of this war, one way or another.”
A strange reference crosses my mind when watching Verdid. Primus Inter Pares, Latin for ‘first among equals’. I realise now clearly what I subconsciously should have known for a very long time: that all of us are Verdid’s creations, shaped and quenched in the forge of the samun wars. Our beliefs and values reflect her moral standards, our creed was her creed to begin with, and ultimately our jointly agreed Dominion laws are the expression of her vision.
Oh, each of us is powerful in her own right. Each of us has her say, and each voice is equal, for our former war leader set our compass and then was happy to step back into the shadows. But from there, from the shadows, she continues to watch over the Dominion and us. Today, the credit for stopping Scourges’ latest ploy goes to Oriel and me, but it was Verdid who arranged for me to be on Merdun as Faun’s backup, it was she who set Oriel as my own support. It was one of her people, Lazurien, who uncovered the disruptor plot and ultimately died in the attempt to foil it.
I now have an outside perspective, making me see clearly all this and more. The same way I’m able to see Liz’s past life with Haillar eyes and observe the human society, culture, religion. Ideals and love. Injustice and war.
“Lore. Order, Life. I call for you to take your rightful place,” says Verdid, breaking my reverie.
The three nominated queens break the circle and take their seats on the Council dais, the rest of us reforming around them. Ethun Sen’Shahar, the Queen of Life, takes the central position, inheriting Asturien’s place. It’s not a leading role but more of a mediator, for she has no more power than any of the other members of the Council.
The brown-skinned Ethun is the only one of us matching my informal ways. If not for her vivid green eyes and striking facial pattern, one would think her a farmer fresh from the fields. Her casual dress is a far cry from Asturien’s formality.
Yet the Queen of Life is as astute as the rest of us and wastes no time assuming her role.
“In this cycle of change, our three Houses are called to lead the Haillar. I choose to accept this challenge on behalf of the Sen’Shahar.”
“So do I, on behalf of the Sen Aesir,” echoes Niam of Lore.
“I choose to decline and pass the role to my sister Ashar,” finishes Reith to everyone surprise and my utter horror. “Her past association with the human species makes her more suitable for a Council seat in the cycles to come.
The argument is not without merit. Our relationship with Earth is on track to become a defining political and military issue for the next decades, and I’m in a unique position to shape it. Part Elizabeth and part Liz, my connection with humanity surpasses even Reith expectations, for now I understand their race as no avatar ever understood an alien civilisation.
I even glimpse the reason Reith chose to make this announcement without warning. She knows me too well, she knows I’d be more than happy to rush to Earth leading the Haillar vanguards, but I’m not so eager to deal with any of the first contact politics. Objectively, I’m best suited for the political side of the encounter too, and by nominating me Reith makes sure this becomes part of my job.
I throw my sister a murderous glance, responded by a sweet, innocent smile, and then I climb to the Council platform to take the vacant seat next to Ethun Sen Shahar. Looking around I can’t stop noticing we make the shabbiest Council in the history of the Dominion, the Lore Queen dressed in her simple blue robe, me and Ethun in breeches and tunics. Every one of our sisters standing around outsmarts our looks by quite a margin.
“I accept this challenge on behalf of the Sen’Dorien,” I say.
“This Council is set,” pronounces Ethun. “Time to deal with our immediate concerns.”
At this point, the public event ends, and the Lore adepts recording the proceedings stop their devices and leave the room. The brief record of this Council’s appointment will become part of the Lore Archives in moments and will make the news on all Dominion worlds by the end of the day. The actual planning of the ongoing campaign is altogether a different matter.
✽✽✽
“We finally have the chance to finish this war with a single, decisive strike,” argues Asturien. “The Scourge fleet will finally be in one place, and we should take full advantage of this.”
Despite the failure of the peace talks, the Sen’Vollar queens got what they wanted in the first place, an opportunity to avenge Nadellonia while dealing the Scourge a mortal blow.
“We only have the words of a treacherous warlord for this, and we’re all aware of how much trust you can put in anything they say. For all we know, the strike against Earth may be a ploy, and they’ll attack in force in an entirely different sector, maybe even one of the Core worlds.”
My fellow Councilwoman, Niam of Lore, is of course right. Millenia of war with the Scourge taught us that they never think linearly and that even their most straightforward acts conceal layer after layer of deceit. Nevertheless, I’m convinced Earth is genuinely in danger, for the human world is too much of a juicy target for the Scourge to ignore.
“We need to defend Earth, but at the same time protect the Wall”, I say. “We can’t afford to commit all forces against Xandor’s presumptive strike, but we can’t discard Hagan’s warning either. There will be an attack against Earth, most likely part of something bigger.”
“We should keep Council’s Reaction Force in reserve” proposes Niam, and none of those present seems to disagree. The Reaction Force is a full third of Dominion’s Navy, three hundred twenty swarm carriers placed under Council’s direct control. Niam of Lore is the new Mistress of the Fleets, a role held by Favriel in the previous rotation, and hence directly entitled to dispose of these forces.
“In this case, the ships we send to Earth will be a collection of household fleets,” I conclude. “Most likely contributed by the galaxy core-ward houses”.
&nb
sp; That meant Dorien, Galahad, and Aesir, sectors on the opposite side of the Dominion, and hence not under direct Scourge threat.
“Each of us can bring in eighty carriers and still keep a quarter of our fleets in reserve.”
Favriel’s bid is met with a nod by her sister and partner, Tourin of Fire. After a brief exchange with Reith, I confirm as well, followed by Verdid.
“Sen’Vollar will join you with half of our fleets. I will be there, too,” sounds an ominous voice.
I fully expected the Mistress of Darkness to join the action. Asturien opens her mouth in protest, then thinks better and eventually gives up. Nadellonia was Lorien’s fief, so she’s entitled to lead their House’s contingent.
“Sen’Shahar can only send twenty carriers,” offers Norian apologetically. Their sector was the one most exposed to a secondary action if the Scourge planned one. Or maybe their main strike, if the announced attack on Earth was a feint.
There is no Sen’Diessa queen in attendance, so Norian’s offer is followed by a pause. This is a situation we never faced, and none of us knows how to deal with it. In the end, unsurprisingly is Verdid’s call.
“Our sisters would not want to be left out, especially Oriel. I will ask the Sen’Diessa admiral to send me a quarter of their ships and add them to the Sen’Aisir contingent, under my command.”
All up, this means we are sending over three hundred and fifty swarm carriers to face Xandor. Will it be enough? Despite our efforts, we had very little information about the size of the Scourge fleets. Verdid’s conservative estimate was around one hundred planetoid sized mobile stations, but it can be easily double that. Would a ratio two to one in our favour be enough? It will have to do…
In the end, we agree that we’ll mobilise three task forces. Verdid will be overall in charge, Dorien acting as vanguard under my command. While passing next to Aldeea, I’ll collect on the way the Sen’Shahar fleet, which puts me in charge of roughly one hundred carriers, the biggest Haillar fleet ever assembled. At least until all of us meet around Earth.
“I fear a trap,” says Norian. “What prevents the Scourge to lure our fleets in the Sol system and collapse the star the way they tried on Bellona. They do with a third of our power without losing a single drone.”
That’s definitely possible. The Scourge will sacrifice a resource reach world, a second Dwelkaar from their perspective, yet deal us a terrible blow.
“If I stay focus on this single task, I can keep the star under control” responds Turin. That means that she, rather than Favriel, will lead the Sen’Galahad forces.
From a tactical perspective, everything makes perfect sense. Turin is the Mistress of Fire and widely acknowledged to be the one most in tune with solar furnaces amongst us. Her presence in the rear-guard, defending the star, would prevent any Scourge action directly tampering with Earth’s sun. Yet, Turin is also a loose cannon, entirely unpredictable and prone to unthought acts.
I didn’t envy Verdid, having to manage Turin Sen’Galahad in the rear and me at the front. After all, second to Turin, I was the most reckless in our band.
✽✽✽
“I commend you for this exalted position, sister of mine!”
I can’t be mad on Reith, though I can’t say I appreciate her jest. It was her manoeuvring that saddled me with a Council seat much earlier than warranted by the regular rotation.
“My compliments as well, Elizabeth,” jumps in Charles. Unlike my evil sister, he actually means it. I consider for a moment correcting him, explaining that for a Haillar queen a Council seat is no honour but a burden, that we gain nothing while being flooded by a million of administrative tasks. Someone like Reith with her innate attention for detail or Ethun of Lore with her eidetic memory can cope better than others, but Council time is a strain even for them.
Peter realises that I’m slightly peeved with this entire situation, so diplomatically changes the subject:
“So what’s next? Are we going back to Aldeea, all of us together this time?”
“Indeed we are, but only after a few weeks on Saguna, a desert planet in the Sen’Dorien sector. Have you ever seen a Haillar fortress world, Peter?”
Of course, he hasn’t, and the Liz side of me feels an irrational glee anticipating his first glance of Saguna.
CHAPTER 31 (PETER)
I’ve never been to Sahara.
I’ve been once to the Sonora Desert in Arizona, but it isn’t exactly the same thing. The North American desert still has plenty of vegetation, dry climate plants, but plants nevertheless. Apart from small oases of life, Sahara is just a sea of sand, stretching for thousands and thousands of miles.
When stepping for the first time on Saguna, with its reddish dunes, scorching heat and utter absence of life, I can let myself believe for a moment that we are back on Earth, that somehow the Chaos Queen tricked us all and ported us at the edge of the African desert. The pyramids and Cairo’s busy life must be just beyond the horizon.
Whatever this is, it doesn’t fit my definition of a fortress world.
“Where is everybody?” asked Hank Mertens, beating Charles with this question, but only by a thin margin. The biologist was about to utter something memorable again but stopped himself and decided to let Mertens have his share of glory, humanity’s first words on yet another new planet.
“There is nobody,” responded Elizabeth with an amused expression. In moments like these, for me she was no longer the alien queen, but Liz reincarnated, ready for yet another prank.
There had to be a clue, or else the entire charade would miss the punchline.
“There!” exclaimed Christine.
I turned to see where ‘there’ was, and realised she wasn’t pointing in the distance, but far above the horizon, in the direction of the blinding sun. Narrowing my eyes, I tried to figure out what had Christine excited, to no avail.
“Oh my god!” exclaims Fiorelli. “Is that what I think it is?”
I finally figure out what ‘that’ is, a thin golden arc curving slightly above the sun and down to the horizon.
“That’s indeed Saguna’s orbital ring, home of the Dorien shipyards and assorted fleet facilities.”
Back into the Wonderland! Today the Chaos Queen managed to produce an artificial planetary ring, something entirely out of science fiction. I wouldn’t be surprised if tomorrow she doesn’t pull a Dyson sphere out of her metaphorical hat.
“But what’s the reason for putting an orbital ring above a desert world? I can’t imagine the need for space elevators in this place.”
“Space elevators?” asked the queen, then seemed to consult a long-forgotten memory and continued. “Oh, cable-based transport between orbit and the surface of the planet. Very ingenious! Yet you forget we use portals for most kinds of transport.”
Right, who needs space elevators indeed. But this raised another question:
“Why not port directly to the orbit? Why come here at all, other than for a scenic look?”
“For security reasons there are no portals on the orbital base,” responded Elizabeth with a hint of hesitation. “At least not portals I’m aware off, one never knows what assets the Shadow Network has in place.”
Having been the guests of the shadow network only recently, I can see her point. Why wouldn’t the girl queen have a portal on a super-secret military base too?
“So, what are we doing here?” asked Charles eventually.
“We are enjoying the view and waiting for a ride.”
✽✽✽
Our ride proved to be a sleek shuttle, an elegantly curved vessel not dissimilar in design to the Diessa star ship we hitchhiked on the way to Bellona. We settled comfortably inside for yet another first: a shuttle trip to orbit using a Haillar vessel.
“Why did you choose to build an orbital?” asked Hank curiously. “Our people speculated about such structures, but their reasoning does not apply in this case. You don’t need geostationary points to anchor space elevators’ tethers.”
Elizabeth’s definition of simple and convenient was obviously quite different than ours. Seeing Hanks puzzled face, the queen continued.
“It wasn’t always like this. Initially, we built the shipyards as standalone orbiting structures. Then more and more stations were added: military installations, academy training facilities, recreation hubs. Over time, the ore stockpile containers alone ended up jamming the orbit to the point they became a hazard. Some twelve thousand cycles ago, we decided to reorder the Saguna base and build the orbital ring. By then we already had ore in excess in the storage pods.”
“How did you end up having this particular problem?”
“The reason the shipyards were built in this place was a combination between an easily accessible asteroid field providing vast quantities of ore and rich deposits of rare metals on the planet itself. We have ongoing mining operations in both places weather we build new ships or not, so the excess material is stored in case a production boost is needed. Even now, most of the orbital is used for raw materials storage.”
As the shuttle soared higher and higher, the planet curvature became visible: a golden ball shining under the unforgiving sun. No trace of blues, or greens, or browns, only occasional cloud wisps floating lazily here and there, so faint that they appeared to be almost illusory wraiths.
To the left, the enormous ring orbiting around Saguna became visible in all its glory. Elizabeth was right, the ring itself was a slender, almost delicate structure, the underlying support for a variety of installations and an endless string of ovoid capsules, most likely storage pods.
The pilot altered our flightpath slightly, and we moved towards a sector likely operated by the navy, as the cetacean shape of one of the Haillar carriers was visible in what appeared to be the equivalent of an Earth dry dock.
“The Flame of Ka Loren, one of the oldest vessels in the Dorien fleet and my flagship of choice whenever I’m in command. She and three other carriers now on patrol are the only swarm ships currently in the Saguna system. Everybody else is on the way, arriving from all over the Dorien sector.”
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