by Lee Watts
Veering away from the central part of the city, Alexander's shuttle, its fighter escort, and two other shuttles loaded with commandoes headed to a concealed landing pad five kilometers from the palace. As the shuttles extended their landing gear, the fighter peeled off, rejoining the air battle.
"Does anyone else know about the tunnel connecting this to the palace?" Alexander asked Merrick.
"No, Sire. The royal family alone knows of its existence - unless it was discovered during Regent Yorin's time."
Merrick walked over and pulled away some brush concealing the entrance. With bated breath, he typed in the security code, and to his relief, it still worked. With a clank, the heavy doors began to open, and the group entered the tunnel.
In the palace, a panicked Timotheus Wasi burst into the private chambers of his father, Mediator Yilib Wasi, chief vizier to the regent.
"Mediator! Mediator," he panted. "Remnant forces have breached the security satellite net. They're on their way to the surface; we need to leave right away!"
Calmly preparing himself a steaming cup of tea, Yilib seemed unaffected by the announcement.
"And why should we leave?" he asked while pouring the water.
Timotheus hesitated in disbelief as to why his father would ask such a question.
"Because they'll arrest us, or throw us in prison, or maybe even worse if we stay."
Tranquil, Yilib picked up his cup and took a seat.
"And why should they do that?"
"We drugged the Queen, conspired with the Ramillie to freeze the fleet, overthrew King Darius, and-"
"Compose yourself, Arbiter," Yilib lectured using Timotheus' title in the Sect of the Elder. "There is no cause for alarm on our part. No one in the Remnant has any inkling of the things of which you speak. As far as they know, I served loyally as vizier to Darius, then Cheyenne, and now Salazar. Should Alexander come back into power this day, then I will offer my services to him as well. Remember, Arbiter, we are here to keep the ways of the Sect in the forefront of whoever rules the Realm. It doesn't matter who sits on the throne, or what policies they make; all that matters is that the position of the Sect remains. The Sect is mother, the Sect is father."
***
Jarred by the impact of a crashing starfighter, both Cale and Saqir lost their footing and slammed onto the deck of the dying station.
"I can't wait anymore," Saqir protested in a panic while getting to his feet. Climbing into one of the waiting escape pods, he turned to Cale before sealing the hatch.
"If you deliver, you'll get all you're asking… and more."
Cale gave a lopsided smile and nodded. As the hatch to the escape pod slid into place, a second, heavier door closed to protect the corridor from the blast created by the pod's launch.
Accelerating away from the station, Saqir noticed the thousands of Remnant ships descending to each of the twin planets and realized heading there was a sure ticket to imprisonment or death. Seeing the Ramillie ships defending the station were quickly being destroyed, he knew better than to head for one of them. Desperate, he checked the pod's limited sensors and detected one remote possibility.
With flashes of light, the battlecarrier HMS Champion and a mix of a dozen other capital class Realm ships exited lightdrive behind the gargantuan Ramillie ship, Tyrannus.
"My word," Admiral Hamil gasped in amazement upon seeing the behemoth ship more than twenty times the size of his own vessel. "We've got the specs Admiral Balin sent, but still, to see it in person…" his voice trailed off while gawking at the giant warship.
"Admiral," called out one of the bridge officers, "we're receiving a hail from the enemy vessel."
Bolstering himself, Hamil turned to his first officer.
"The bigger they come, the harder they fall," he quoted.
"Aye, Sir," the first officer replied.
"Comm, go ahead and put them through, and patch this on to the Dauntless; Admiral Balin may want to have a look at it."
The image of a haughty, almost disinterested Ramillie commander appeared on Hamil's screen.
"I am Warlord Ra'daq of the Tyrannus, I'll keep this short - leave," he sneered.
"Allow me to echo your brevity," Hamil replied "No."
A wicked smile was the only reply Ra'daq gave before closing the channel.
"Unleash the beast," Ra'daq proclaimed with a dark smile.
On the bridge of the Champion, Admiral Hamil set the ship on an attack posture.
"All squadrons prepare to launch. Sensors, give me a reading on their primary-"
"Sir," came an urgent voice from a bridge officer. "They're launching missiles!"
Having often come under enemy attack, Hamil knew a missile salvo was a common gambit so wasn't surprised by the report.
"How many?" Hamil asked calmly.
"THREE HUNDRED AND COUNTING!"
"Three hundred," he breathed in astonishment, expecting the typical handful of four to six.
"BRACE FOR IMPACT," the bridge officer shouted.
Sensors on the Dauntless detected the attack. Not believing his eyes, Balin ordered the image enlarged. Hundreds of missiles from scores of launch tubes all came to life at once hurling weapons at the Champion and her group. Hit with dozens of missiles simultaneously, each ship was pummeled relentlessly causing their shields to quickly buckle. Without defensive screens, the continuing barrage now struck the unprotected hulls. The space around the ships was full of wave after wave of high-powered missiles.
"Hamil, this is Balin, get out of there! Get out of there!"
There was no time and no hope of a response. Within moments, the Realm ships began exploding. Within half a minute the Champion and her entire reserve force were decimated into lifeless fragments of shattered hulls. The Tyrannus loomed in the midst of them, a feeding predator among the prey.
"Resume course for their main fleet," Ra'daq ordered. "Ahead full."
***
With silent, military precision, the first unit of commandoes entered the palace from the hidden tunnel. Detecting no one, the unit commander motioned the all clear, and in utter silence the second unit took their positions. Alexander and Merrick closely followed the third unit as they entered while Caedmon slipped off another way.
Though the advancing group heard a great deal of sound and activity outside, inside the palace, it was eerily quiet and seemingly abandoned. Hurrying through the arched passage with tall, slender windows, the group reached the entrance to the cathedral-like main hall.
"I expected at least some resistance," Alexander whispered to Merrick.
"Me too."
"They must have evacuated," Alexander reasoned as the commandoes continued their systematic advance, taking up clearing positions in the main hall.
Though midday, the blacked-out windows of the massive hall made the room awash in shadows. Alexander huffed upon noticing the dimly illuminated, enormous white-stone statues of Ramillie gods now lining the walls.
"I must speak to the decorator," Alexander whispered.
Merrick gave an amused smile. As they cautiously continued forward, the grand chamber appeared empty. Slowly a light brightened upon the lone figure sitting on the throne at the far end of the room.
"Welcome, Brother," Salazar jeered, his voice echoing off the high walls. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't make it."
Suddenly, the lights came on illuminating scores of heavily-armed troops on the upper levels who were all targeting the outnumbered group on the main floor. Ramillie soldiers flooded into the room from both sides of the red-carpeted royal platform. As the chamber filled with guards, the Ramillie high priest Jambrek emerged, taking position beside Salazar on the throne. The commandoes with Alexander held their ground, awaiting the king's command. He gave a signal, and they reluctantly lowered their weapons.
Salazar laughed triumphantly. When he was done a heavy silence hang in the air as he scowled at Alexander. The younger brother noticed that with Salazar on the throne it did not glow wi
th golden light the way it did with their father.
"I think your little insurrection is at an end," Salazar gloated.
CHAPTER 10
"The wicked are overthrown, and are not: but the house of the righteous shall stand."
– Proverbs 12:7
From a concealed vantage point on the second level, Yilib and Timotheus looked down on the events unfolding on the floor of the main hall.
"Should we do something?" Timotheus whispered.
Yilib held up a hand signaling him to be quiet.
"We watch."
An order was shouted at the Remnant troops to drop their weapons. With a nod from Alexander, they complied.
"Step away from your weapons and place your hands behind your head."
Keeping their rifles trained on the invaders, Ramillie troops eased forward and collected the dropped weapons as the group was ushered toward the platform.
"Your rebellion is over," Salazar gloated.
"This isn't a rebellion; it's a liberation," Alexander retorted.
"Whatever it is, it's weak, and weakness results in extinction."
"Salazar, by aligning with the Ramillie, the Realm will be utterly destroyed at the end of the age, and then so will you."
"Enough of your religious doom and gloom - end of the age nonsense," he scoffed. "The galaxy isn't coming to an end, and I'm not the one about to be destroyed." On Alexander's arm, Salazar caught site of the bracer he'd long since believed lost. Realizing his arch-rival now delivered the means to his immortality, he laughed at the irony. The fool doesn't even know what he has, Salazar thought.
"There are forces at work you can't possibly understand," Alexander cautioned. "Nothing is-"
"YOU ARE NOTHING," Salazar scorned. "I'm standing on the edge of greatness while you are on the precipice of oblivion. Do you think your precious Elder can stop me from killing you?"
"Nothing happens without the Elder allowing it. He controls all, but allows us to make choices."
Salazar puffed in disgust.
"No one controls me," he sneered. "And what if I choose to have you shot right here, who's going to stop me?"
"I will," came the defiant, strong voice of an old man entering the back of the hall.
"Caedmon," Alexander whispered.
Immediately, several of the Ramillie soldiers turned and trained their weapons on the newcomer, who, except for his tall walking staff, was unarmed.
"So, this is the infamous Caedmon," Jambrek said with disdain. Stepping from behind the disc-shaped throne of the regent, the Ramillie high priest slowly made his way to the edge of the raised royal platform. The white skin of the overly gaunt priest was in stark contrast to his heavy, burgundy robes with its wide gold bands of tribal designs. "Faithful Voice of the Elder," he mocked. "You may have had popular support in this hall once, but those days are long gone. Look around you; you are surrounded by our gods. Your Elder is a minority and powerless."
A gleam caught in Caedmon's eyes and a smile crossed his timeworn lips.
"Where the Elder is, there is a majority," Caedmon said while raising his staff high. He brought it down crisply against the marble floor. The smack echoed off the mighty pillars and walls of the chamber, and suddenly the hundreds of Ramillie soldiers in the room to collapse in unconsciousness.
"…And His power endures forever," Caedmon added.
In the spiritual realm, unseen by the mortals in the hall, was the Dridmor called Cyketh. He stood beside an immense throne positioned on the royal platform. Seated there was a Dridmor overlord. It was a gargantuan, horrific creature with two sets of horns protruding from its head. One pair circled down as ram horns, while the other horns jutted outward with the tips pointing upward. Fury poured from the overlord as it watched the Ramillie troops rendered inert by the Elder's servant.
Salazar was in stunned disbelief as he beheld the Ramillie soldiers collapse. Observing from the second level, Yilib and Timotheus were equally amazed. Infuriated, the Ramillie priest Jambrek roared in outrage.
The statue, ordered the voice of Cyketh to the mind of the priest. As Jambrek rushed to the nearest engraving of a three-meter image of a Ramillie god, Salazar used the time of confusion to leave the platform heading for the hallway behind it. In the confusion, the Realm troops dashed to re-arm themselves. Alexander and Merrick both reclaimed a rifle, then Merrick grabbed his battlestaff as the King took the one Merrick had given him that used to be Chiranjiv's. By the time the Realm group was re-armed, Salazar was gone.
Give it life, Cyketh called to Jambrek's mind.
Screaming in the ancient Ramillie dialect, Jambrek invoked the gods to inhabit the carving and destroy the blasphemous Caedmon. With a scream, Cyketh changed from his form into a cloud of black ash and smoke then indwelt the statue. The stony head slowly turned to Realm forces then bellowed an unholy roar that seemed to contain screams of the dammed. The strength of the howl was so powerful it caused the mortal's bones to rattle and the room's blackened windows to shatter.
Even in his office, which was in a section of the palace far removed from the hall, Salazar felt the ground shake and heard the ethereal howl.
"Come on, come on," he shouted at the communication panel, which at last came to life with only an audio response.
"What is it, Salazar?"
"What it is, is what I warned you about, Administrator. The Remnant has entered the palace. I want an armed escort out of here now!"
"Salazar, I'm looking out for myself. You'll have to do the same."
"I warn you, Saqir, I've got the stones, and I'll use them. You hear me? I'll use them!"
"When the Remnant finds you, I don't think you're going to live long enough to make good on that threat. Even if you escape, I hear the caryon is eating you again, so I don't think you'll live long either way. If you escape, it's fine with me, but I'm not coming back for you. Nexos out."
The transmission ended, Salazar was left looking at his disease-ridden reflection in the screen. Slamming his hand against the glass, it cracked. Bitterness burned within him. Bitterness against Saqir, against The Remnant, against Alexander, against whatever gods there were for cursing him with the flesh-eating caryon. Saqir had left him to save his own skin. Vivica had left him to move up the social ladder of the Hegemony. Every sycophant that surrounded him since he took the throne was gone. Grabbing a blaster pistol out of his desk, he rushed to find a way off of the planet.
Finally making it to the corridor with the escape pods, Dakshi discovered Saqir was already gone. Cursing, he pounded the wall in anger before pulling the radio from his belt.
"Dakshi to Nexos," he growled.
After a few moments, there was a crackle over the radio.
"I hear you. What's your location?"
Gripping the radio tightly he spoke into it.
"In the passage you indicated. Where are you?"
"I couldn't wait any longer," Saqir snipped. "I'm heading for one of our ships now, but there's something I want you to do before you join us."
"What's that?"
"I want you to go to Theera and kill Regent Yorin."
Enraged at the situation, and how Saqir was saving his own hide but ordering him to stay, Dakshi bared his teeth wanting to squeeze the life out of the administrator. Required to obey Saqir's orders, he radioed back that he would see to it. Entering one of the remaining pods, he launched to carry out Salazar's assassination.
CHAPTER 11
"…and thou shalt smite the rock, and there shall come water out of it…" – Exodus 17:6
"Tactical, give me an analysis," instructed Commodore Upton, first officer of the Dauntless.
"Computer projection estimates it would take at least sixteen battlecarriers and half as many destroyers to effectively engage the Tyrannus," the officer answered.
"All that to take out only one ship," Balin grumbled. "And what if they have another one, or two waiting to jump into the system?"
"Still think they're trying to draw us
away from the planets?" Upton asked.
"I did at first, but now… I don't know. That thing might be enough to stop us by itself."
"Should we withdraw?"
"Negative," the bald chinned admiral decided. "We'll never get a better chance than this to liberate the home system."
"Seven minutes till the Tyrannus enters firing range," came a report.
"There's only one way to eliminate that thing without taking massive casualties," he announced in resignation.
"What's that?" Upton asked.
"The Dauntless will ram it."
Activating the intercom, the Admiral called out, "Navigation team and primary engineering crews remain at posts; all other hands… abandon ship."
***
With demonic hatred, the gigantic living statue charged across the royal hall toward Caedmon.
"JUMP," Merrick shouted as he tackled Alexander to keep him from getting trampled. The two hit the ground barely rolling out of the way before the pounding statue could crush them. Realm troops fired at the stone creature. Enraged, the unholy monster swung its boulder-like arm, sending many of the soldiers flying. Caedmon held his ground as the abomination advanced.
At My name shall mountains crumble, spoke the spirit of the Elder to his servant.
"ELKANAH," shouted Caedmon, his voice sounding like a mighty chorus.
As waves of sound hit the advancing rocky menace, it began crumbling. Disintegrating with each step, it collapsed into a line of inert ruble. Incensed, Jambrek shouted curses at the Faithful Voice. From the level above, Yilib and Timotheus watched in a mixture of fascination and fear.
"Father, we should get out of here," Timotheus pleaded.
Not bothering to insist on the use of his official title, Yilib just nodded, and the two hurried to find a transport.
Fire, demanded the Dridmor overlord from his throne. The word was audible to only the Ramillie priest Jambrek. Obeying the dark spirit's command, Jambrek ran to the next carved god and, laying hands on it, called out another incantation. Loosed from the first statue that was destroyed, Cyketh moved to inhabit the next idol. Erupting into a torrent of raging flame, the statue howled a hellish scream as it became animated. It turned and poured streams of fire at the soldiers. Many of the troops were instantly incinerated, while others dove for cover or rolled to extinguish their own flames.
