by Neal Jones
By the end of his reign, Tor'Ahl's empire stretched the whole of one continent and half of another. In the wake of his death emerged an era of cultural and scientific progress that led to the birth of the First Age. The followers of Tor'Ahl insisted that their king had succeeded in uniting the world - such as it was at that time - through the power of the Varashok; that Tor'Ahl had challenged the gods when they had decided to wipe out their creation and begin anew. Because of his entreaties, the Varashok had granted their children one last chance, and Tor'Ahl had used his power and influence to bring together the warring nations and usher in an era of peace and prosperity for all Chrisarii.
That, in brief, was the basis of the whole religion that continued to dominate the Alliance unto this very day. It was not the only faith, of course, just one of the major ones, and until a few days ago, the five prophecies that had been laid out in the final chapter of the Book of Tor'Ahl had been largely ignored, even by Tor'Ahl's own followers.
Saveck entered his quarters and stripped off his workout clothes as he headed for the bathroom. He turned on the shower, setting the temperature to near-scalding, and then brushed his teeth. One of the problems with the five prophecies was that they were so vague; for the last twenty-five hundred years, every other generation believed that they were living in the End of Days. And, of course, it didn't help that the Book had gone through multiple translations and re-printings since it was first conceived by Tor'Ahl's disciples in the second decade following his death. Saveck tried to recall the exact wording of that first prophecy, but many years had passed since those mornings when his mother would read to him and Jran before worship service. After Jharis was finished reading, Farak would give a lesson, and he'd quiz his sons on it later that evening to see how well they had been paying attention.
The thought of his parents sparked another pang of guilt in Kralin, one that was getting harder to ignore. In the three standard months since the attack on Exxar-One by Serehl's fleet, something had changed in Kralin. When he had first arrived on the station almost six months ago, he was bitter, resentful, and desired to do no more than the bare minimum that his job required. As soon as Gabriel arrived, Saveck was intent on making the commodore's life as difficult and as miserable as possible without actually crossing the line of direct insubordination.
But then Ambassador Vorik and his wife were murdered, Doctor Lom killed herself in a suicide bombing in the sanctuary of the Church of God's Witness, the Jha'Drok spy was discovered, and Colonel Serehl's renegade fleet attacked the station.
In the aftermath of all of that - as Exxar-One's military crew and civilian population picked up the pieces - there was something new in the atmosphere; something that could only be detected by those who had experienced a shared tragedy and lived to tell of it. It didn't matter what differences had separated the individuals. When it was all over, after the Haal'Chai soldiers were captured and/or killed, and after the hostages were freed, the crew was one unit; one body; one force. Chrisarii and Federation had started out as guarded enemies, but now were unified against a common foe, and the fact that the crew had lost so many good soldiers in the line of duty only emphasized the pettiness of any disputes that had come before the battle.
Saveck still couldn't explain to himself why he'd decided not to go through with the suicide ritual. Nor could he rationalize why he'd rejected High Chancellor Kroth's offer to restore to Kralin his former rank of colonel and give him a dreadnought to command. It just felt...wrong, somehow; as though by leaving Exxar-One, Kralin was making a grievous mistake. He belonged here, but he couldn't say why he felt so certain of that fact.
It was frustrating, but the major had become adept at ignoring this inner struggle and concentrating on his job. In the last three months, there'd been many pieces to pick up, many repairs – both literal and figurative – to make. The treaty of peace between the Chrisarii Alliance and the Interstellar Federation of Peace had survived a devastating blow, and, in fact, was all the more strengthened because of it. And Kralin was surprised by how good it felt that he had had a hand in ensuring the stability and continuation of that alliance. He had never believed that he would ever be fighting on the same side as a Federation soldier, but the triumph he felt after the battle was over was so disconcerting that he hadn't really known what else to do except remain here in his post as executive officer.
He belonged here.
That made him think of his parents again, and of the vineyard that his father owned, tucked away in the Honsh valley of Garrt province. Had he ever belonged there? Kralin had once answered that with a resounding negative, and he had nursed that hatred into a fevered desire for vengeance after Jran and his family were slaughtered on Beta Erendii. But now, after this nonsense with Shil'Ra Generith, and after the memories that it brought up of those early morning lessons in the garden courtyard behind the house, Saveck felt ... empty. It was an odd revelation, but it fit. Maybe that was why he stayed here on Exxar-One. This place was no more home to him than the vineyard, yet he felt less uncomfortable here than he had on the plantation where he'd been born and raised.
The major shut off the shower, dried himself, and then walked into his bedroom to put on his uniform. When he passed through the living room, he paused to glance at the altar in the far corner, next to the couch. He hadn't knelt in front of it or said any prayers since that night three months ago, and he really didn't have any desire to rekindle his faith, and yet...
And yet something tugged within him, gnawed at him, and he couldn't say what it was. He knew exactly what his mother would say, and that just made it worse. She'd tell him that he was being called by the Varashok, that the Truth that he'd ignored for all these years was still there in his heart and that the only way to calm his unrest would be to undergo the Rite of Ascension, to seal his soul unto the Varashok for all eternity.
Saveck made another noise of disgust and hurried into the kitchen. Perhaps it was time to put the altar back into storage. He was starting to forget why he'd unburied it in the first place, and it wasn't as if his parents were visiting anytime soon. The resolution brought some relief to Saveck as he ordered a juice from the dispenser and perused a compad with the day's agenda on it.
The best relief from too much introspection was to occupy one's time and thoughts with busywork, and there was plenty of that on a place like Exxar-One.
( 4 )
"Attention, passengers. This is your captain speaking. We're going to be docking at Exxar-One in fifteen minutes. Please secure your luggage at this time and follow the instructions of the flight attendants. Please remain seated in your compartments until we have completed docking procedures. And, as always, thank you for choosing Atlantis Starlines for your travel needs."
Emalie jumped up and down and squealed with delight. "Mommy, mommy, we're almost there!" She pressed her nose to the viewport, straining to catch a glimpse of her daddy's station.
Jennifer Rosenberg sighed. "Yes, Em, we are. Now please sit in your seat and buckle up." Her daughter didn't immediately respond. "Now, Emalie!"
The girl looked crestfallen as she reluctantly obeyed. "Mommy, how come you're always so cross?"
"I'm tired, sweetheart. It's been a long trip, and I don't feel well."
"You're always sick," Emalie muttered, crossing her arms and putting on her best angry face.
Jennifer tried not to smile. Her daughter was cutest when she was angry. "We'll go out to dinner tonight, after we get settled back into our quarters." That perked her right up. Thank the gods for giving five-year-olds such short attention spans, Jennifer thought.
Emalie began babbling about how much she missed her favorite restaurant on the promenade, and Jennifer turned her gaze to the viewport. Laying a hand over her stomach was habit by now, whenever she had a moment to herself, and she wasn't sure but she thought she could feel the baby kicking. Or maybe it was just shifting position for more comfort.
Jennifer sighed and reached down to pick up her satchel. She checked
to make sure she hadn't dropped anything out of it and then nestled it on the seat beside her. She cursed herself for letting her emotions get the best of her on that evening almost four months ago, when she'd announced to Ben that she'd decided to pursue a full time career. She'd felt so empowered, so dominating, so...thrilled. He'd made a crucial career decision that affected her without discussing it with her first, so she'd done the same to him. And then, of course, she'd let herself get carried away...and now this.
She knew perfectly well why she'd allowed herself to give in to him. Ever since he had first announced his decision to transfer to Exxar-One, Jennifer had locked her husband in the doghouse. She'd drawn an invisible line down the middle of the bed, and if he so much as touched her, he was going to get locked out of the bedroom. She'd also imposed a communications blackout. They talked only about Emalie, or the bills, or upcoming social engagements with friends, but anything pertaining to her feelings or his impulse decision was off limits.
But after their arrival on the station, after that first long discussion when they'd both finally aired their grievances, and after she'd decided to put Emalie in preschool and pursued a full time job, Jennifer had felt an immense relief. It was as if she'd been holding her breath for several months and then finally let it go. She hadn't quite forgiven her husband – especially after the Vorik murders and Doctor Lom's suicide bombing; that was why she'd left Exxar-One in the first place. But she had begun to understand why he had done what he did, and as much as she hated to admit it, it had felt good being back in his arms again. He had always known just where to touch her, and she sighed again as she unbuckled herself and leaned over to help Emalie.
That brief truce had been broken as soon as Doctor Lom chose to blow herself up in the sanctuary of the Holy Church of God's Witness. The protest groups on the promenade, the fear among the general population, the escalating political crises between the Chrisarii and the Federation governments – all of it was just too much for Jennifer, and she'd felt a fresh surge of fury at her husband for dragging his family into the middle of it all. In the three months that Jennifer and Emalie had been back on Earth, Ben had spoken to his daughter twice as much as his wife. Every time he called, Jennifer put Emalie on, and she was more than happy to tell daddy every detail of her day at preschool. Jennifer had imposed another communications blackout, and her conversations with Ben were limited to small talk.
Only last week had she finally called him, but even then she'd kept the conversation short and to the point. She was willing to come back to Exxar-One and discuss their marriage face to face. And one of the reasons she had proposed this was because of the unexpected "blessing" in her belly that had just passed its first trimester mark.
Jennifer was one of the lucky few not cursed with morning sickness, but she would have preferred nausea to the headaches and fatigue. It didn't matter how much she slept the night before, she was always exhausted by mid-morning, and even if she managed a nap, she still suffered headaches that could almost have passed as migraines. They weren't quite enough to knock her out, but just enough to give her little patience and a very short temper.
The other reason Jennifer was returning to the station was because of her mother. Gods bless the woman, but she could be suffocating at times. Geraldine Bishop was arrogant, opinionated and always knew what was best for her children, even after they were full grown and married. She'd had more than one bad word to say about Ben, and Jennifer had finally had enough. Living in tense silence with her husband was preferable to the endless "discussions" with her mother about where Jennifer had made mistakes in her life, and that now was the time to correct them.
"Stay close to me," Jennifer instructed Emalie as they joined the throng of passengers disembarking from the ship. The PTL ride to DPC four was blessedly brief, and Jennifer scanned the crowd just beyond the checkpoint, half of her hoping that Ben was late, and the other half hoping that he was early. But there was too many people in front of her, and she held out her hand so the security officer could scan the transponder chip in her wrist. Then she held up Emalie's.
"Welcome to Exxar-One. What's the purpose of your visit?"
"I live here. My husband is the CMO."
The EarthCorps officer smiled. "Welcome home, then." He motioned for them to proceed on through the gate. "Next."
"Daddy!" Emalie squealed, and she tore free of Jennifer's grasp.
"My little munchkin!" Ben knelt to embrace his daughter and he smothered her with kisses until she nearly passed out from laughter. He turned to Jennifer. "Hello, sweetheart."
Only at the last minute did she decide to lean in and accept his kiss on the cheek.
"Shall we go have an early lunch?" He set Emalie down and put an arm around his wife. "I made reservations at a new family restaurant. It'll be somewhat quiet since we're ahead of the lunch crowd."
"That sounds nice," Jennifer lied. What she really wanted was a hot bath and a long nap.
"How was your trip?"
Emalie didn't give her mother a chance to respond. She began telling her dad all about it, and Jennifer was content to be alone with her thoughts as they weaved through the crowd toward the nearest PTL.
( 5 )
High Chancellor Maliston Kroth was tired. He stifled a yawn as he listened to a debate between Councilors Rynim and Nirav. They were arguing about yet another financial crisis that was facing the empire. There were so many of them these days, even ten years after the war, even after all the tax cuts and market breaks, and even with all the new trade agreements that came with an alliance with the Federation. As Nirav launched into a fresh tirade, Kroth stood and cut him off.
"Thank you, councilor, for your passion in this matter. I think we can all agree that this issue is not going to be resolved anytime soon. However, I feel we have made good progress, and we can pick up here at the beginning of tomorrow's session."
"Yes, chancellor."
Nirav sat, and Kroth hammered his stone sphere against the arm of his chair. The Quorum stood and began to disperse. Five of them, however, stayed behind, and Kroth sighed inwardly as he saw who they were. Councilors Ormran, Sulst, Harrik, Oc'Chen and Maddoc stepped down from their seats to the main floor of the quorum chamber, and Kroth stepped down from his dais to join them.
"Councilors," Kroth said. "I assume that because you've remained, you have something of importance that you want to discuss that you don't wish to share with the rest of the Quorum."
"On the contrary," Harrik replied, "what we wish to discuss has already been talked about by our fellow councilors. They have elected us to deliver the proposal, and they felt it would best be done in a more private setting."
"In other words, I'm not going to like what I'm about to hear."
"That depends." Crit Ormran was the oldest and most decorated member of the Quorum, and there was a predatory expression in his eyes that made Kroth instantly wary.
"Very well. Let's adjourn to my office."
The room was large enough to seat everyone, and after Kroth's aid had set out a tray of fresh orp juice and some sliced bread covered with a spread of lail cheese, the chancellor motioned for Ormran to begin.
"To state it simply, chancellor, we - the Alliance - have a singular opportunity before us. The Jha'Drok Emperium is in an extremely vulnerable position at this time. The loss of their assault legion has weakened their standing among their peers on the stage of galactic power. All the data that we've managed to collect from Chief Minister Ronnd's sources suggests that that legion comprised at least three quarters of their total fleet complement."
"In other words," Sulst interrupted, "they are defenseless."
"What our empire needs at this time, chancellor," Oc'Chen added, "is a short, victorious war. All of the measures that we have taken in the last decade to shore up our economy and return the Alliance to its former glory have failed. Our war with the Federation was a very costly mistake. And we compounded that error with another: the declaration of a truce."
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br /> "As I recall," Kroth replied in an icy tone, "I was against that truce, and it was the majority vote among you, councilors, that brought our empire to the negotiating table with the Federation."
"Yes, chancellor, that is correct," Ormran said quickly, "and, with all due respect, you must admit that that was the right decision at that time." He glanced at his fellow councilors as he continued. "As bad as things are now financially, we are still much better off now than we were during the war." He turned to Kroth. "What Oc'Chen meant to say was that we have a chance now to correct the setback that was created by the Beta Erendii War. All of this discussion and debate about the current financial crises is useless unless we turn to the root of the problem. The rebellion and dissension among our member worlds, specifically the Kauramide and the Sohnath. If we do not do something now, we run the risk of igniting a civil war, and if that happens, then our empire will shatter from the inside out. We will be even worse off than the Jha'Drok, and we will be easy pickings for the Federation or the Khazar Dominion or even - may Tor'Ahl help us - the Jha'Drok."
Kroth couldn't deny the truth of Crit's words, and he stewed silently as he listened to Maddoc chime in with his opinion.
"Chancellor, the reason for all that dissension and rebellion is because of our treaty with the Federation. We must take some form of decisive action if we are to appease the dissenters and put a stop to the violence that is tearing this empire apart."
"Not only that," Harrik interjected, "if we can add the whole of the Emperium to our territories, we would be in a much better position to move against the Federation. One of the primary reasons we could not conquer them ten years ago was because of the size of their territory. They have fifty-six member worlds, and their space is twice the size of ours. We were outmatched from the beginning. But with the Emperium on our side, our territory doubles, and the playing field is even."
The councilors fell silent, waiting for a response from Kroth. The high chancellor considered their words for a minute or two, then said, "You're forgetting, elders, that the Federation is our ally. If we move against the Jha'Drok in an act of open war, then we run the risk of bringing the fury of the Federation down upon us. We would end up fighting a conflict on two fronts; three if you count the Kauramide and Sohnath rebellions."
