The Empire

by John Dizon

  "It is not their concern over your military might, but the power of darkness that is slowly taking control of the universe," Diabolus corrected him. "Our Knights are as missionaries bringing the New Age into worlds beyond hope. We have shown them the alternatives, and they are trusting and obeying us. Only this man Drachna is taking this battle to a new level. I am not quite sure how we must respond as yet."

  "How do you know it's Drachna? And what's he doing that's got you so unsettled?"

  "The Dark Majesty has given me the revelation that it is Drachna. My recon forces has reported what he has done. His men are eating the corpses of the men they have slain. They are resorting to cannibalism to overshadow our own terror campaign. I am not sure that we have an answer to this."

  "What?" Vernu was incredulous. "In this day and age? How could he make his men do such things?"

  "There had been a top-secret program known as the Tiger Project," Diabolus revealed. "Our people found out while we were in process of interrogating insurgents within the government. Military scientists had been experimenting with the DNA of tigers by implanting their nucleotides within human polymers. The theory was that their addiction when exposed to human flesh could be replicated in human beings. It was seen as an option in dealing with insurgencies. They could release treated prisoners into the suspect population for optimum results. Unfortunately there were too many unforeseen problems that caused the project to be aborted. I suspect that Drachna had access to the project and secured the release of certain subjects for his own purposes."

  "You know, this thing gets crazier as it goes along," Vernu was exasperated. "Every time I think we've opened up a can of worms it just seems there's another one somewhere inside. Now I've got one of my most highly decorated officers leading an army of cannibals against a legion of religious fanatics in a game of Rescue The Princess, who we just happened to help kidnap."

  "Your lack of faith is disturbing," Diabolus cautioned. "I think your mother would be greatly disappointed."

  "Oh, so now you're going to tell my mother," Vernu's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Maybe she'll decide to send me to bed without supper. In that case I'd better get back to the banquet and stuff my face. We wouldn't want me to get so hungry that I might start eating our guests. People might start thinking I'm working for Grav Drachna."

  "Sometimes the only options are feast or famine," Diabolus turned away towards a graven imagen of the ancient god Baal in a far corner alcove. "Return to your feast, my friend. Pray that we will help you avoid the famine ahead."

  ~+~

  The Deltans had Styrena brought to the captain's quarters for a private meal, attended only by his ranking officers. Yeoman Chon had brought formal civilian wear to her cell and helped her prepare for the event. Only they were unprepared for the result. They had seen pictures and videos of Styrena while they were researching for the operation. Yet they had no idea what the person would be like in real life. As a result, they were captivated by her beauty and dynamism when she entered the cabin.

  "Miss Stone, we are honored by your presence," Captain Misch came to the end of the table and held her chair for her. "You look absolutely stunning."

  "After that weight watcher diet you've had me on, I've probably lost about thirty pounds," her violet eyes flashed angrily as Misch nudged her chair in place.

  The officers sat down once Misch returned to the head of the table."It is most regrettable that we have been forced to severe rationing due to the nature of this operation, and for that we offer our apologies," Misch explained. "As you can see, there was a provision available for special occasions. Although I realize this is not a meal fit for a President's daughter, we hope it will suffice."

  "I would've been glad to get a sandwich at this point." Styrena shoveled half the bowl of caviar onto her plate as it was passed around. A waiter came from behind her and poured champagne from a carafe into her glass.

  "At this juncture, we have decided that it would be more advantageous for both sides to join in bringing this matter to closure." Misch nodded as the waiter offered to bring the main course out. "It makes no sense for you to be restricted to quarters while we are all as prisoners on this ship. If you were to take an active part in these proceedings, I have faith that it will result in a most expeditious outcome."

  "Restricted to quarters?" Styrena washed down her caviar with a large swig of champagne. She had not had a full meal since her capture. "You mean that closet you locked me in?"

  "Come now, my dear. You can see that this cabin is as a shoebox compared to the smaller halls in your Presidential palace. Our own chambers are as exponentially diminutive. Be that as it may, we are hoping to come to a new understanding. This meal sets the tone for our discussion which we hope will arrive at an agreement."

  "I'm all ears and still kinda hungry," Styrena agreed as the waiter brought in a Queen Mary featuring a succulent slab of beef on a thigh bone, surrounded by colorful vegetables.

  "Excellent," Misch smiled curtly. "Tell me, Miss Stone. What was the nature of your relationship with Captain Grav Drachna?"

  "Grav Drachna?" her voice faltered. "What does he have to do with anything?"

  "You know how these things work," Misch said matter-of-factly. "In these Cold War scenarios, both sides have their investigators. They dig up information on one another, no matter how trivial it may seem. There had been stories about how you and the Captain met at a State reception and became friends. There had been contact between you that was deemed unacceptable in the Cold War climate that followed. It was said that Drachna took it hard, and it became a seed which developed into enmity against the Empire."

  "Oh my gosh," she rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you're going to try and use Grav against me."

  "I'm afraid it's somewhat more complicated. Our intelligence sources indicate that Drachna may have committed an act of mutiny against the Imperial Fleet. He is rumored to have commandeered his starship and gone rogue in his own effort to investigate our operation. In other words, he has stolen a Scorpion starship to come looking for you."

  "That's a good one." Styrena munched on a piece of beef as soon as it was set on her plate. "Was it the Empire who put that story out? Or did the Deltans come up with it? Matter of fact, I'll bet you came up with it yourself."

  "This isn't something to be taken lightly," Xamon said curtly. "We have also received word that Drachna has some sort of zombie army aboard his ship. They are committing atrocities against civilian populations to spread fear across the outer territories throughout the System. In time he will become the most wanted man in the universe. He will become absolutely ruthless in his quest."

  "We have a scan blocker aboard which can prevent even a starship from scanning this ship," Misch informed her. "In a worst case scenario, if Drachna locates us and demands access to our ship, he may or may not have proof of your presence. If he is denied and he cannot scan us, there is a chance he will destroy this ship and kill everyone aboard. That would, of course, include you."

  "I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get to it." she stuffed a potato in her mouth. Her shrunken stomach was filled at that point. If they dragged her back to her cell right then it would make no difference.

  "Miss Stone, consider the opportunity this presents," he persisted. "Let us come to an agreement, let us compromise and develop a plan together. If you were to convince your mother to sign the Non-Aggression Pact, we can chart a course for the outer regions. We can spread the word that you are aboard our ship and that we are seeking contact with Drachna. When he locates us, you can persuade him to surrender his ship to the Allied Federation. They can grant him asylum, and your mother will have enormous leverage in negotiating the return of the starship to the Empire."

  "And I guess you think I'm so dumb that I don't think you'll set a trap for Grav," she smiled sweetly. "Look, I thought I made it clear. I'm not going to ask my Mom to sign that stupid treaty. It gives the Empire an open path to invade and destroy Beta. And who would we think i
s next? You can get someone else to ask her. And I'll tell you something else. My Mom'll never sign. Ever."

  "This is unfortunate," Misch scowled. "I was hoping you'd make it easier on all of us."

  With that he pressed a button on a remote control device. It activated electrodes in the champagne she consumed, which triggered the molecules of a drug ingredient. Within seconds her eyes fluttered before she slumped unconscious in her seat.

  "Return her to her cell," Misch ordered. "She remains confined in total darkness. Reduce her to vitamin water rations, which are to be taken in ten-minute increments under strobe light twice a day. Alternate times so she cannot perceive a pattern."

  "Myles, you're going to push that girl past the point of distraction," Dr. Seuss insisted. "This little feast may help nourish her somewhat, but her mind isn't going to be able to deal with the sensory deprivation much longer. If she snaps, you won't convince her mother to send the Emperor a greeting card."

  "Perhaps you're losing sight of the fact that we're losing a race against time," Misch retorted as Styrena was being carted off. "Those religious loonies are destroying colony after colony on one side. That maniac and his zombies are piling up victims on the other side. It's just a matter of time before we're caught in the middle."

  "I don't think there's a choice at all between making a deal with the Devil or getting eaten by zombies," Yeoman Chon chortled as she and Xamon headed back to the bridge.

  "Hail Satan," Xamon laughed, pumping his fist.

  ~+~

  It had been a week since the energy converter gave out. The ship floated listlessly in space, unable to generate enough power to travel. The life support systems began to waver, and the science office concurred with the chief engineer that they might barely survive a fortnight. The food rations were cut in half and water rations to a quarter of the daily portion. The lack of air conditioning caused cabin temperatures to hover at eighty-five degrees. Most of the crew tried to sleep through the situation but often awoke soaked in sweat. Tempers were short and most remained in their cots as much as possible.

  "All right, Kappa, the Captain will see you."

  Von walked into Necromicon's quarters where the captain was reclining on a chair, resting his eyes. He had been roving throughout the ship endlessly. He checked on his engineers to make sure they were doing everything they could with all they had. It seemed as if a losing battle, but the Captain refused to consider the notion.

  "Is there any chance that we could jettison some escape pods towards Beta? There's an even chance that they may be happened upon by some sort of vessel and get us rescued."

  "I've already thought of that," the Captain's dark eyes glared at Von. "This ship doesn't have enough spare power to light another tube, let alone fire a projectile into space. It's the reason we stopped sending out probes and flares. Whatever happens from here will depend on my engineers."

  "The boy and his mother are suffering, they don't have the endurance that the men do," Von was emphatic. "She's been dehydrated from giving him her water ration. Zane's given them so much of his, he's becoming incoherent. I've been sharing with him, but I'm also helping one of your teams and it's wearing me down. There must be some resource, something we can do. Perhaps the crew might be able to spare a few ounces between them."

  "You know how these liquid converters work," the Captain growled. "They drain the water from the wastage on board and make it potable. It's as old as spaceship travel to Mars. Only the human body retains up to ten percent of its water, so less and less goes back into the converter process. They learned that when the Americans lost their third crew on a mission way back when."

  "Not too promising. Look, suppose I go around and ask the men?"

  "I'm sure you're not aware that the crew has been donating blood for conversion on behalf of the boy," Necromicon peered at him. "For men like these, it's what might be considered a highly noble gesture."

  "I wasn't aware," Von said softly. "I'd like the word spread that I appreciate it."

  "Captain," his first mate burst into the room. "There's a ship approaching. It's not acknowledging our transmissions. It's a big one, may be another cruiser. Shall we put up our force fields?"

  "Hold off as long as you can," the Captain vaulted from his chair. "We can't afford an excessive energy drain. Charge up our cannons in case of attack. If they don't identify within a hundred miles, prepare for battle. Von, return to your quarters and stay with your friends. I'll send for you if I need you."

  Von was rankled over not being asked to stand guard if necessary. He returned to the passenger cabin and strained to hear what echoed down the hallway from the bridge.

  He knew that the echoing magnetic hum was the result of a tractor beam from a starship latching onto the vessel. He also knew the heavy thud and the endless vibration was the result of the ship being boarded. It was a matter of time before the superior force took control of the cruiser. Survival then depended on the whim of their captors.

  It seemed an eternity before the heavy pounding of boots along the corridor precipitated the hammering on the door. He opened the door to the sight of eight shock troopers brandishing xasers. They were beckoned forth then ushered down the corridor of what appeared to be a crowded bridge area. There they saw a crowd of shock troopers around a tall man in a shock helmet and robe, signifying one of star marshal rank. There was no sense in someone of that rank being here, and Von immediately suspected this was a stand-in or impostor. The marshal had the newcomers join the pirate crew seated on the floor before he spoke.

  "I am Star Marshal Grav Drachna," he announced, his voice muffled behind the blast protector over his face shield. "The governments will pay a fortune for that information. I assure you that you would not live to collect should you betray me. In lieu of that I offer you an opportunity to earn an equal chance at fortune."

  "What is it you'll have us do?" Necromicon implored, having been given ample space in a far corner. "Restoring our ship would be more than compensatory."

  "As we speak, my engineers are having two of your convertors and three generators replaced. They are also overhauling your oxygen processors. You may bear that in mind should any come inquiring of us."

  "Your wish, my lord."

  "I will pay ten million credits if you are able to give me intel leading to the capture of a rogue Deltan cruiser. It is enough for every man in your crew to purchase an asteroid habitation. If you are stopped by the military or law enforcement, they may offer more but our retaliation is fatal and final. I will also supplement your bounty earning with a loyalty bonus. Quite sizeable, I may add."

  "We will be more than willing to assist you," Necromicon smiled tautly. "We have been part of the Guild for over twenty years. We are one of the most enduring gangs in the system. We know well the value of friendship. We are honored to be able to do a favor for a friend like you."

  "I have for you an enabling device," Drachna motioned as two of his men brought a master cylinder in, placing it alongside the control console. "This will allow you to hone us in on your location once you have absolute confirmation of a sighting. This is military grade, it'll beam us in at light speed. Only no tricks. If we emerge into an ambush, we'll hunt each man aboard unto death regardless of time or cost."

  "This is like wrapping a parasite around my brain stem," Necromicon objected. "How do I get that piece of junk off my console? If we do any heavy work, I'm going into light speed and I don't expect to hear from you any time soon."

  "If there are any altercations," Drachna stared through his screen, "they will be handled swiftly. All you have to do is turn out your lights and stand by. You have nothing at all to be concerned over, other than locating the Deltan cruiser for me."

  "Excuse me, Marshal," a Scorpion officer came onto the bridge saluting. "The repairs are completed. The vessel can proceed under its own power."

  "What?" Necromicon knitted his brow. "This is a wasting cruiser. How did you replace those parts in that time?"


  "How crude," Drachna shook his head. "Consider starship personnel like a pit crew in a stock car race from last century. We can repair dozens of fighter ships in hours during a full-scale battle. It's like watching teams building giant-sized puzzles. Our robots switch parts out of spaceships in minutes."

  "I don't know how to thank you," Necromicon started to get up.

  "Don't move, stay where you are," Drachna ordered, holding out a gloved finger as he rose from his perch on the command console. "My men will tell when you can return to duty. Just remember the great gain you can achieve, as well as the severe penalty for failure. I am certain that, between the governments' military, the Revolutionary Guard and my force, the cruiser will be located in a timely manner."

  "We are at your service," Necromicon remained patronizing.

  Von roamed about the cruiser after the starship departed and the crew restored all back to normal. The starship hooked up a dozen water tanks, allowing the men to open up a few tankards for an exhilarating shower. Eleos was brought to bathe and was bright eyed and bushy tailed within the hour.

  "I'd like to offer you and your friend a position of residency," Necromicon took Von off to the side at the high-ceilinged meeting room. "You can act as advisors aboard ship. You will hold the rank of petty officers during your stay. We will return you and the woman and child to the nearest Alphan residential station once this matter is settled."

  "Why not drop those two off before we go hunting for the cruiser?"

  "Negative. If we get trapped in orbit by a government force while delivering those two, I lose everything. I never compromise my ship or my crew. That is absolute law."