by A A Warren
“As do I. I take it this warrior is my replacement? I can see why you like him. He’s strong, handsome…” The robed man shook his head. “You always found amusement in your dalliances. But your devotion to the pleasures of the flesh has held you back from achieving your true power.”
Salena tilted her chin up. “I chose a life of pleasure and joy, over your path of death and despair. I have no regrets.”
Talon gave Salena a wary glance. “Do you two know each other?”
Sartarus chuckled before she could answer. “Of course we know each other. Do you mean she hasn’t told you?”
Salena turned to face the others. “I… I’m sorry, I…” Her voice trailed off.
Avra glanced up at the men surrounding them. With a reluctant shrug, she holstered her pistol. “Sal… What the hell's going on here?”
Salena sighed. “Talon, before, when we… when I showed you my world, what happened… I didn’t tell you everything. I wasn’t alone when I fled the devastation. I was married. I had a family.”
She glanced up at the hideous golden mask that stared down at them.
“Tell them, Salena.” Sartarus’s booming voice echoed through the pit. “Tell them who I am.”
She stared at Talon and Avra, then bowed her head. “Lyko Sartarus is… was… my husband.”
A low groan arose from the rubble. Avra shook her head as she paced back to Zobo’s side. “You should have told us, Sal. Is that what this was all about? Some centuries-old family squabble?”
“No, you must believe me, everything I’ve told you is true! If Sartarus and Kyr use their weapon again, it could kill millions… billions!”
“Lies!” The booming voice rose to a high-pitched shriek. “Kyr is a pompous fool, he knows nothing of the power within his grasp. Like you, his lust blinds him to the truth. Daizon does not bring death… Daizon is eternal life itself. You showed me that, Salena. You showed me a glimpse of a perfect world… a world of peace, and love. A world of life! And then you turned away. You held his greatest gift in the palm of your hands… and you sacrificed it. And for what?”
Sartarus held up his arm, and yanked back the sleeve of his robe. Salena gasped as he exposed the withered, cadaverous flesh of his arm. “This universe… this reality. This place of rot and decay. Humans, aliens… all of you, waging endless wars, killing, dying. Over and over, a never-ending cycle of pointless destruction. Only in Daizon can there ever be peace.”
“Daizon’s peace is an illusion, Lyko. I tried to tell you. But your pain has blinded you to the truth.”
“It is you who are blind, dear wife,” he snapped. “I’ve chased you and your pitiful friends across the galaxy. And where has this folly led you? I monitored the transmissions from the temple before my shuttle landed. This ‘Talon’, or whatever his name is… he is nothing. He is not the Claw of R’Kur. There is no shard waiting here for him. The other First Ones are gone. There is nothing left of them but crumbling ruins and half-whispered myths. All you have discovered here is your tomb. And when I finally unleash Daizon from his prison, you will join in his benevolence. Every living thing in this galaxy will become a part of Daizon. And then you will see… You will see I was right!”
“So why have you come?” Salena stood taller, and her voice took on a haughty tone. “You tried to unleash Daizon once, at Hadros. Why leave the job half finished?”
Sartarus leaned on his staff, and peered down at them. Talon glimpsed sapphire blue eyes, glaring at them from within the hollows of the golden mask.
“Yes, Hadros. That was a disappointment. Half a planet destroyed, and Kyr’s renegade prince managed to escape with his life. I lacked a critical piece of the ritual. The shaping of the dark energy was flawed, the formula incomplete. That greedy fool Aroyas hid his treasures from me.”
Avra glanced up from attending Zobo’s bleeding wounds.
“The artifacts Aroyas stole were destroyed,” she shouted. “I took care of that myself.”
Salena smiled. “She speaks the truth. The ritual is lost for good.”
Sartarus shook his head, and clicked his tongue. “Oh, my dear Salena. Even now, you are still blind to the truth. Look around you…” Sartarus held up his arms. “This universe itself is a graveyard of death, despair, loss… This place is the lie. But in Daizon, all is eternal. And nothing is lost forever. If the artifacts are destroyed, so be it. There is still one thing that can unlock the great one’s prison.”
“What are you talking about? There is nothing that…”
Her voice trailed off. The flesh around Sartarus’ brilliant blue eyes wrinkled, as though he were smiling beneath his mask.
“Your memories,” he hissed. “You saw those precious artifacts, my dear… did you not? All I need is trapped in your pretty little head.”
Before Salena could answer, Sartarus threw out his hands. Crackling bolts of energy exploded from his fingertips, and flew into her, then through her. The beams penetrated her flesh like burning spears. She began to shake and spasm, and her eyes glowed brighter than Talon had ever seen… they were like twin suns, blinding for him to look at.
“Salena!” Talon rushed towards her, but a stray bolt leapt from Sartarus’ hands and struck him in the chest. The blast knocked him off his feet, and hurled him sideways. He grunted as he slammed into the curved wall of the chamber. Blood stained the smooth stone surface behind him as he fell to the ground, smoke wafting from a burn across his chest.
As Talon staggered to his feet, he saw the tendrils of energy wrap tight around Salena’s body, caressing her in a glowing embrace. Her head fell back and her eyes closed, as she rose out of the pit and floated towards Sartarus.
Panting for breath, his vision still blurry from the impact, Talon charged across the floor toward Zobo’s lifeless body. He yanked the heavy pistol from the alien’s holster, and raised the weapon toward the robed man.
Sartarus did not even glance in his direction as he opened fire. His shots were no more effective than Avra’s. They struck some kind of invisible barrier, no doubt more of the man’s dark energy sorcery. Their energy rippled and diffused across the forcefield. Sartarus continued gesturing with his long, gnarled fingers. His crackling tendrils of energy carried Salena up and over the edge of the pit.
“Sartarus!” Talon shouted. “You coward, I swear I will—”
“You will do nothing!” The mask’s speakers amplified Sartarus’ words to a bellowing howl. “Because you are nothing! Salena was wrong about you, just as she was wrong about everything else. You are not the Claw of R’Kur. You are nothing more than a slave. A man paid to fight and die, as the universe slowly dies around him. But do not fear… In Daizon, even you shall be saved.”
The soldier’s weapons hummed to life, as they charged and prepared to fire.
Salena lowered to the ground. She stood swaying before Sartarus, her eyes still blazing. The energy bolts faded away, save for a glowing band that bound her wrists together. She raised her hands, and touched the side of his golden mask.
Sartarus turned to her, his blue eyes squinting at her beneath his mask. “I have learned much since the last time I saw you, my dear. These bands block the flow of dark energy through your nerves… don’t bother trying to twist my mind as you did with that ignorant fool down there.”
“Lyko… Please.” Her voice was a pained whisper. “If you love me at all, if you ever loved me, please spare them.”
“This new plaything means that much to you?” he snarled.
“It’s not that,” she said. Her fingers caressed the monstrous contours of the demonic mask. “All of this is my fault. I brought them into this. I can’t bear the thought of more blood on my hands. Please, leave them be… Spare them, my husband. Spare them, and I will go with you willingly.”
“Salena, don’t!” Talon shouted. “You can’t go with him, he—”
“What would you have her do,” Avra hissed. “She’s making the only play she can!”
Above them, standi
ng at the edge of the pit, Sartarus sighed, and shook his head. “Ah, My beautiful Salena… To hear you call me that once more, after all this time.” His gray, gnarled fingers reached out, and stroked her cobalt hair. “I never could refuse you. But you still don’t understand. Their lives are not mine for the taking.”
He gestured to the officer. “Take her to my ship.”
“Lyko, please!” she screamed. Her cries echoed through the corridor, as a pair of guards dragged her from the chamber.
Sartarus gazed down at Talon once more. He raised one hand, and waved the other soldiers away. As they marched out of the room, the robed man glanced up at the strange pyramid, hovering above the temple.
“She wishes me to spare you. And so I shall. I will seal you in this false temple. Alone. Trapped in the dark, without food or water… Let us see then if you welcome the salvation I offer.”
Raising his hands, Sartarus’ eyes glowed behind his mask. The light became blinding, and Talon had to turn away from the reflected glare. Blazing symbols surrounded the robed man’s hands, and more bolts exploded from his outstretched fingers.
The crackling energy struck the pyramid above them. A massive explosion rippled through the air. Shards of stone rained down, pelting them like hail. A deafening groan sounded through the chamber, and the light above grew dim.
“Avra, look out!” Talon yelled. He dove on top of her, and rolled their bodies to the edge of the chamber. Above them, a torrent of rocks and stones pummeled the ground. Talon winced, as one of the rock fragments slammed into the side of his head. He tasted the copper tang of blood in his mouth, and his vision narrowed to a pinpoint of light, surrounded by dark shadows.
Above them, Sartarus lowered his arms. He spun around, and exited the shaking chamber as more debris rained down behind him.
With a thundering crash, the remains of the pyramid fell from the sky. The gigantic slab sealed the top of the chamber, and buried them in an avalanche of dust and rocks.
Chapter Twenty-Six
PLANET VENDARU
Frontier Space
One week later…
A dark figured jogged down the pristine white corridors of the hidden complex. Alarms wailed through the air. Up ahead, the sound of marching boots grew louder. The figure slowed his pace, clutching his traveling cloak closer to his body. He turned to face the wall, as a squad of armored soldiers rushed past.
An explosion rocked the complex. The figure reached out for the wall, steadying himself as the corridor shook and vibrated.
He glanced up at the ceiling… the metal panels running along the roof buckled and flexed. The bombardment began days ago, and had continued at a steady pace. The man hidden beneath the dark hood knew the complex could not sustain this level of damage for long…
Regaining his balance, he continued down the hall, letting his cloak billow behind him as he turned the corner, and moved past a long, curved window. Another explosion shook the walls. A cracking pop sounded from the window’s glass. The relentless pressure of the green gas outside bore down, expanding the tiny fissure into a spiderweb of cracks, racing across the window’s surface.
A repair team swarmed into the corridor and set a brace against the damaged window. The figure lowered his head and darted around the corner, shouldering past the frantic technicians. The hum of an emergency forcefield sounded behind him, sealing off the corridor to protect the complex from a breach.
Up ahead, the glowing beams of a security field shimmered along the walls of the corridor. Slipping a security badge from a pouch on his belt, the cloaked man held it up as he passed. The field glowed, and parted to allow him access to the new corridor.
He stopped in front of a security door and paused. Glancing left and right, he peered down the long white corridor with furtive, shadowed eyes. In the distance, he heard more screams and shouts… the alarm still wailed, and repair teams rushed along the outer corridors, struggling to control the damage as the Dominion’s proton charges pummeled the surface of the planet.
But here, in this narrow passageway, he was alone.
He threw back the hood of his cloak, revealing a mass of sweat soaked hair and a pair of tired, nervous eyes. He stared straight ahead, shifting his weight back and forth, opening and closing his fists, as the security beam traveled up and down his body.
“SUBJECT CONFIRMED: SAMUL DORAN. TECHNICAL OFFICER. ACCESS GRANTED.”
The security door slid open, and Samul hurried into the communications room.
It was dark inside, lit only by the blinking lights on the control panels that lined the room. The complex was running on emergency power, diverting as much energy as possible to the shield and defense systems. The sickly green glow out the window cast strange, shifting shadows throughout the chamber.
Samul leaned over a console and tapped the controls. An array of holo screens blinked to life, floating in the air before him. Using a grid of colorful glowing panels, he entered a code of numbers and symbols. A symbol filled the floating screens, as the equipment received and decoded an incoming transmission.
A black lion over a red triangle… the symbol of the Tygon Dominion.
The symbol faded away, and the craggy, scowling face of General Kyr filled the displays.
“Samul,” he snarled, as he glared at Samul through the display. “I ordered you to maintain communication silence after you destroyed the launch tubes!”
“You said you had a plan for my escape,” Samul said, his voice rising to a loud whisper. “You swore you would reunite me with my family!”
“Watch your tone, spy. I swore you would see your family freed. I said nothing about a reunion.”
The general’s one good eye glanced to the left, and he flipped a switch on his command display. “Look here… I’ve kept my word.”
One screen showed an image of a woman and two little boys. They were part of a group of prisoners, herded by centurions through a devastated city. The soldiers prodding them along wore heavy environmental armor. Filthy, tattered rags hung off the emaciated bodies of the civilians. Piles of rubble lined the sidewalks on either side of the abandoned street.
“Laurel… the boys! Where are you taking them?” Samul gasped.
“They’ll be led outside the dome,” Kyr replied. “These insurgents and rebels infested that slum. The rest of the civilian population has been shuttled to labor camps in the Hades system. My fleet will raze the remains of the city to the ground. Orbital bombardment."
“But the radiation outside the dome,” Samul stammered. “The levels are too high, they—”
“They’ll be given radiation pills and water treatment kits. Enough for thirty days. After that they’re on their own, traitor. Be thankful I don’t have them shot. If you ask me, that would be a far kinder fate. But so be it. They are free, as you asked.”
“And what about me? What about my freedom?”
Another explosion rocked the chamber. Samul grabbed the console to steady himself.
“Your freedom?” The general leaned forward and grinned. “Let me tell you something, Samul. You were a valuable asset to me. Your intel, your technical knowledge… you committed an act of sabotage that has doomed my enemy, and placed victory within my grasp. And yet… I despise you. You betrayed your prince, sold your honor. And for what? The lives of a few worthless peasants.”
“They are my family,” Samul whispered.
The general waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Bah. They are nothing. You are nothing. You’re a sniveling coward, a traitor. And so I will offer you the same freedom I offer all traitors.”
He leaned forward, his glowering face filling the screen. “Death, Samul. My fleet will bombard Vendaru until the shields of your complex fail. And when the pressure of an entire planet crushes you into oblivion, then you will have your freedom.”
“General, wait.” Samul’s voice rose to a frantic cry. “I can still be useful. I still have information for you. The fleet, I know the position of—”
Before Samul could finish, an energy bolt screamed through the air, and struck the console next to him. The instrument panel exploded in a shower of sparks, throwing him to the ground. Coughing and sputtering, the surprised technical officer stumbled to his feet and whirled around.
He peered into the dark shadows at the edge of the room, but he saw nothing… the room was empty. Only the swirling green glow of the gas outside moved across the walls.
His hand dropped to the folds of his cloak. Suddenly, a shimmering curtain of energy rippled through the air, several meters in front of him. The glowing wave descended to the floor, revealing a small group of people standing against the wall.
Captain Javis stood ramrod straight next to Prince Lucian. He held a pulse pistol in his right hand, aimed directly at Samul. A squad of armored marines flanked them, their weapons charged and ready.
“That’s enough, Officer Doran,” Javis called out, his voice dripping with disgust. “Did you really think we wouldn’t search the comm logs? Your ID code received a coded transmission, only hours before the explosion destroyed the hangar deck.”
“Impossible.” Samul shook his head. “I wiped the logs, erased all traces—”
“I ordered counter intelligence officers to back up the logs every hour, Doran. I warned the prince you were not to be trusted. But…” Lucian took a step forward. “But I needed to see with my own eyes. I refused to believe one of my people would betray me. Apparently, I was wrong.”
Samul threw himself to his knees. “Forgive me, Your Highness. Kyr ordered his fleet to attack the Gorman system, a reprisal for the ships they sent to your coalition. He has my family, he—”
“If you had come to me, Samul, I would have helped you. I would’ve done all I could for your family.”
“Mercy,” Samul howled. “I beg of you, mercy!”
Javis holstered his pistol. “Guards, take this filth to the detention block. He can wait there, and share our fate. If the fleet doesn’t arrive before those shields fail…”
