The Chronicles of Heaven's War: Burning Phoenix

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The Chronicles of Heaven's War: Burning Phoenix Page 27

by Ava D. Dohn

* * *

  Gabrielle lay on the floor of her cabin, quietly moaning, still clutching her head in blinding agony. The pain was beginning to ease somewhat. No longer was she writhing on the floor, blood oozing from her eyes, ears, and nose. The bleeding had long stopped and her convulsive tremors eased enough to allow opportunity to consider what may have happened. Still unable to sit or call for assistance, the woman attempted to piece together events of the last hour.

  She had been sitting cross-legged upon the tiny rug, searching the stars for Mihai’s signature. So much she wanted to assist her little sister at this upcoming exchange. Although unable to be at her side in the flesh, she was attempting to reach Mihai’s mind with her spirit in order to comfort an anxious heart. The powers of an Ancient are great, and few of the Ancients had them to greater degree than Gabrielle. Still - as with all of the powerful gifts given the children by Mother - they were designed when the universe was at peace, made without consideration for a possible future filled with violence and death. Such a gift, then, like telepathic insight, could become quite dangerous in this new, violent era, the gift having no protective safeguards against riotous malevolence.

  Releasing her powers of insight into the open space of the universe was possibly foolhardy - something she would never do in known times of danger - but what danger existed at the moment? Far away were the enemy fomenters of evil who were gathered together to see what mischief they could deliver at the upcoming Prisoner Exchange. All Gabrielle wished to do was offer a little reassurance to Mihai at this tenuous time. Now she lay on the floor of her cabin, crippled, unable to assist Mihai or anyone else, for that matter.

  Oh, how easy it had been, to release her mind to the universe in order to gather in all the vibrant energy surrounding her! So long ago, it seemed, she used to lose herself in the delights of doing this mind share with all living things. It was so sensual and exciting to revel in the fields of wild energy created by an excited universe, orgasmic for the mind and spirit, sexual intercourse for the brain, at times more pleasurable than romancing with a man or woman.

  In those distant, dreamy times, Gabrielle had honed her skills to the point of being able to reach out across seemingly endless space to share these erotic experiences with her lovers in faraway places. Rarely since the Rebellion had the woman dared release her mind to the night, and for good reason, but tonight she willingly took the chance. There she sat, reaching out with all her mental powers, drawing in the hidden energy of the universe around her, when the cries from hundreds of terrorized people caught in the struggle of life and death pummeled her.

  The pain had been excruciatingly intense to both body and mind. How severe and lasting her injuries might be, Gabrielle could not yet tell, but she did know that weeks or even months would pass before they would heal to the full. Now there was little more she could do than comprehend what had happened and what future actions were called for.

  In her mind, Gabrielle could see the layout of the fleet in the nearby quadrants, or it should be said, had seen up until a little bit ago. She knew that whatever the disaster might be, it originated with the Chisamore. The ship’s current patrol put it directly in line with her search for Mihai, thus its angle of energy when the calamity struck being most damaging to her mind. Little could be done now for the Chisamore and its crew, and nothing for Mihai. At the moment, she was unable to summon the strength to call for her own assistance, let alone assist others. Rescue would have to find another path for them.

  Gabrielle rolled onto her side, clutching her head, groaning, drawing her knees up and struggling to sit, hunched forward in a profuse sweat, swooning with a blinding headache. At length, the woman managed to pull herself up onto the edge of her bunk, waiting there until the nauseous migraine eased.

  After what felt like an eternity, Gabrielle pushed herself from the bed and, using the wall for support, stumbled from her stateroom into the captain’s cabin. Finding the commander’s desk, she fell into the chair and rested her head before calling to the officer’s bridge. When her senses were well enough revived, she requested a status report.

  “Systems are fine, Admiral.” The acting bridge officer calmly answered. “Signal officer and weather deck report open skies and all is well.”

  Gabrielle thanked her for her report.

  The bridge officer went on to state, “Captain Dunamis has gone forward to hangar bay two, to await the arrival of Commodore SarahSands, who has just arrived on the packet, Senegal. She is preparing to transfer over to the RavensRook on the tender, Cortney. The Commodore should be aboard in about thirty minutes. Do you have any orders?”

  Gabrielle thanked the attending bridge officer and then replied, “Yes, please request the Cortney to stand by to receive me. Send my luggage to the tender and make request of my staff to meet me there for departure at four hundred hours. Please inform the Senegal of my plans, for I will want to be under way as soon as may be after getting aboard. Also, please send the ship’s surgeon to my cabin, for I’m in need of his assistance.”

  The bridge officer hesitated at hearing the Admiral’s last request, but quickly obeyed. “As you wish, Admiral.”

  Gabrielle shut off the intercom and sighed as she rested her head in her hands, her elbows on the table. The faint throb of the RavensRook’s powerful engines soothed the admiral’s spirit. A quiet pulsing that sent the slightest of rhythmic tremors through the ship felt so reassuring, telling her that all was well aboard and that, much to her relief, some of her senses were gradually returning.

  Gabrielle began to ponder what must be done regarding the latest disaster. It might be hours before the fleet would hear report about the Chisamore. She would make sure to reveal this matter to the bridge before then, but not until after seeing the surgeon. After all, there was little else that could be done other than shift some of the Fourth Fleet east to cover Eden’s Gate. They needed to keep a strong carrier presence there, just in case.

  The woman fussed, shaking her head. “Eden’s Gate, that Hell hole...” she muttered, wincing as her headache surged anew. It was a terrible place to defend, no safe ports within two weeks’ hard running. How many thousands had already paid the supreme price for holding that portal? How many more must do so? ‘The portal has to be held at all cost.’ That was the consensus of the Council after retaking it during the Persian Debacle, and that is how it was to remain. That gate must be held no matter the loss to ships or crew.

  Ah well, there would be a new armada soon gathered to protect that quadrant. Gabrielle was personally making preparations to accomplish it. It was the reason the newly appointed commodore, SarahSands, was replacing her aboard the RavensRook. She was a capable officer to take charge of this Stargaton Fleet, the battle group being the largest in the quadrant. The admiral was pleased that Command had approved her recommendation for the woman to receive that post.

  Gabrielle smiled. Sarah was not only a close companion, but was an excellent strategist and brave fighter. She and Sarah went back to the Aphrodite Wars, the woman showing her mettle throughout those long conflicts and far beyond. During the Great War, Sarah served as first officer to then commodore, CythereaNoah'ha, remaining in the Navy from that time until now. Yes, she was an excellent officer and a good commander. She would do well leading the Stargaton Battle Group.

  Gabrielle’s smile quickly faded. Rumors echoed within the military that the children’s new king and new field marshal were not bonding well. It was believed by some that Mihai was jealous because one of her closer companions had not received the commission, Planetee being one of the names bantered about. Others thought her surrender of power for the acceptance of a ‘looks impressive but has no real authority’ crown affected her, especially since the new field marshal was quickly making her strong presence felt by the many changes she was forcing upon the old Army, giving little consideration to the established way.

  At the moment, the Navy was still placed under t
he command of the field marshal, but Gabrielle was aware that winds of change were coming soon. Mother desired to maintain the current arrangement until after the Prisoner Exchange, not wishing to add to the turmoil. War was soon coming - war fought on a scale unknown in this world before, with battles that would make the Day of Tears look like a skirmish. The present structure of the military would be incapable of handling its coming responsibilities successfully.

  Gabrielle frowned, pondering, thinking to herself. Mihai sat the throne as supreme commander, king over all the realm of the Children’s Empire, but it was an empty title. Right now, Trisha had greater power, thus being the real authority in the kingdom. To create a cohesive fighting machine, the field marshal’s position of power needed to diminish, at least in the eyes of the people, so that Mihai’s kingly glory could not be questioned. Why Mother chose not to do this before the Prisoner Exchange puzzled the admiral, but Mother had her reasons, and when she was ready to reveal them she would, and not until.

  Well, that really was of no concern to the admiral. Mother did as Mother wished to do. Yes, Mother had sought Gabrielle’s opinion, but she felt it was more of a respectful formality from Mother than her seeking any real input. Long had it been since she was searched out by Mother other than to surrender up a little comfort in troubling times.

  It was probably for good reason Mother acted this way. She had a game on and was playing it close, thus leaving little room for deviating from her grand plan. Something was up with the Prisoner Exchange. What it was, Gabrielle was unsure, but it was going to be big. The woman’s heart jumped with a secret desire to be there for it.

  A sudden rap on the door interrupted the moment. After being hailed, an orderly stepped in, hurriedly handing Admiral Gabrielle a decoded script. “Short notice...” The admiral said, bemused. Looking up at the orderly after reading it, she asked, “Has Captain Dunamis been notified yet?”

  The orderly confirmed, “Yes, I personally informed him before coming here, believing it would expedite the time the captain would need to prepare for his departure. With your permission, the communications officer will notify the RavensRook to stand down until the next window, about six hours hence, Captain Dunamis feeling it prudent under these circumstances. It will give him needed time to brief his first officer on the operations of the ship before his leaving.”

  Gabrielle smiled approvingly. “First Officer BuetraSega will do well on the bridge in Captain Dunamis’ absence. I will leave it in the hands of the new commander, Commodore SarahSands, to decide who should replace Dunamis as captain of this ship.” It pleased her to have had the new king and her council approve the recommendation to have Captain Dunamis promoted to commodore over the newly commissioned Royal Fleet, commonly called the ‘King’s Fleet’. He would personally take command aboard its new flagship, soon to come off the ways, the royal fighting barge, RananAhot. A heavily armed transport of imperial cutter class, it was designed for dignitaries on their long official sojourns. Complete with spacious wardrooms and large cabins, it was a luxurious ship of state built upon a heavy fighting platform. With its supporting escorts, it would be a formidable foe in a heated contest should the enemy attempt its capture.

  Before dismissing the orderly, Admiral Gabrielle made arrangements for the commodore to be provided with a tour of the ship and to be properly introduced to the officers on board. “Captain Dunamis will be quite busy, and I have some special needs to be tended to before greeting my friend. Please send my apologies for my failure to be there to meet her. Have the attendants deliver her luggage to my apartment and tell them to remove mine to the Senegal.”

  Gabrielle stood, her migraine lashing out in blinding pain and nauseous upset as she did. Wincing from the sudden discomfort, she waited to speak until the headache eased. “Would you invite the commodore to dine with me, here, at nineteen hundred hours, and also inform the mess regarding my needs? I have some private business to conclude with the commodore and wish not to be disturbed. Please arrange to have someone stationed at my door to see that is so.”

  The orderly promised she would do as requested. Gabrielle thanked her and turned toward her apartment as the orderly departed. Opening a valise that sat beside some of her luggage on the bed, she pulled out a small bottle of tiny pills. Removing a half dozen of them, she swept them up into her mouth, downing them with a sip of water. Scooping up a kerchief, she turned and sat on the bed, pondering the day’s events.

  She smiled as her sick headache began to fade. Dunamis was a fine choice for royal fleet commodore. He was a good man, tough and resolute. His stellar service to the Empire was renowned, many of those years spent walking the bridges of their great, mighty dreadnaughts. The man was well-disciplined, calm under fire, but aggressive when the battle turned to his advantage. The fellow was also good-natured and patient, often necessary qualities when tending to the wants of overly spoilt diplomats who had little knowledge of real war. Mihai also knew and liked the man, and he liked her - a good thing. She could be quite a pain when her mood was up. Yes, Dunamis was a good choice.

  Putting the kerchief to her nose, Gabrielle wiped away a drop of blood. Looking down at the crimson stain soaking into the cloth, the woman calmly shrugged. The strictnoisun always did this to her, but it did ease the pain. Tomorrow she would wake to a bleeding bowel and swollen, tender abdomen, but a clear mind. She thought it worth the cost. For several years now, this is how the woman had been coping with her growing cancer. The healing machines could only stay the sickness, hold it in check. If a cure were not found, her body would eventually be consumed by it. She shrugged again, would death really be so bad? So many had already preceded her there, what was one more name added to the list of names in the Silent Tombs?

  Shaking her head to clear her mind of its self-pity, Gabrielle attempted to contemplate the day’s earlier events - events that carried the ring of long-forgotten days left unheeded by the excitement of the moment - events that should not have been so lightly dismissed. Again she pushed those feelings aside, instead, returning to earlier hours.

  She strummed her fingers on the bed as she thought, rolling her eyes upward toward the ceiling. Her favorite child, Mihai, was - or would soon be - engaged in deliberations at the Prisoner Exchange. Would Mihai heed the wisdom of Mother and give free rein to her new field marshal to conduct business, seeing it was customary for the second in command at such proceedings to be the spokesperson, conferring privately at times with the one in charge? Gabrielle doubted it, knowing the unwarranted animosity Mihai felt toward Trisha.

  ‘No...’ Gabrielle sadly shook her head. The child might well forge onward recklessly, thinking she, alone, had the leadership qualities needed to make such a rescue of her beloved, imprisoned comrades. Now, without even the slightest of Gabrielle’s mental gifts to guide her, the girl might well dive into a hopeless morass of political intrigue that could do no one good. Indeed, might get many killed! This was too much to think about. It hurt the woman’s head. She tried to consider other matters.

  ‘Let’s see...’ Soon she would depart to take command of the super-class carrier, Sophia, a wonderful ship, largest of the new class dreadnaughts, grandest ship to ever come off the Navy’s ways. Pity its construction was so far behind schedule… should have come on line months ago.

  Gabrielle’s mind drifted back to the moment. An entire fleet of tenders was held out of service waiting the arrival of the Sophia. Had she been delivered on time, the Chisamore could have been hove to in port, or better yet, sent off to the scrap yard, instead of being forced to do another patrol out in those forsaken reaches of empty space. Because the Sophia wasn’t readied on time, the old rattrap, Chisamore, was forced out on patrol where its horrific demise would devastate any chances of assisting Mihai at the Prisoner Exchange.

  Gabrielle clenched her fists and cried out, “Because of this I can’t help her! Why, oh, why did this have to happen now, today?!�


  The woman froze, her eyes fixed in a blank stare, her heart racing with memories that she struggled to recall. Finally, a cloudy vision of a time in the distant past filled the woman’s mind. There, on a night long ago, during an age filled with demons and deception, she leaned over a dying charge, her quivering lips lamenting, “Why? Why did the engines have to fail? Why today?”

  Gabrielle’s eyes filled with tears of angry frustration, seething, “Damn him! Damn his worthless skin! Should ‘a killed him when I had the chance… before Mother begged me to let him live.” Gabrielle’s headache returned with a vengeance as her mind raced with recollections of another day long ago that also led to calamity and the near death of so many of Mother’s loyal children. Visions of that distant time raced in upon her so that their images were as if only now happening.

  She moaned in pain, clutching her head, living again that regrettable moment as she kneeled over Darla’s broken body. “My little darling sister, I am so, so, sorry! But how does one contest against the Fates and win?”

  Their ship’s engine overheated, nearly imploding because the main cooling system malfunctioned. All that had saved them from sure disaster was that the main drive servos had depended on the same cooling, thus shutting them down and warning the crew of the impending engine failure. Although the souls onboard the ship had been saved, poor Darla suffered so because of their forced tardiness.

  Sadly shaking her head, Gabrielle believed the same or similar thing happened to the Chisamore. Except this time the Chisamore and its crew were not so fortunate. The situation for it and those aboard was catastrophic at the moment but, with her own senses so impaired, the admiral could not tell how great the damage might be, or even if there were any survivors.

  Groaning with dismay, Gabrielle closed her eyes in pain. It would be many long hours before the earliest of communications would reach the RavensRook, even with the new and still secret konic-chiiton audio signal machines. It was doubtful any ships in that quadrant were yet equipped with such transmitters, the technology only recently being developed and reserved for front-line fleet carriers and major escorts. By the time news of the Chisamore’s fate reached them, Gabrielle would surely be aboard the Senegal en route to EdenEsonbar.

  It was later discovered that a trusted officer and close confidant-turned-traitor had sabotaged the armed bilander Gabrielle and Mihai’s team were using to reach Darla in hopes of capturing the ship and crew when it became disabled, unaware of their mission. Gabrielle’s bilander did not remain disabled long enough to fall victim to the waiting enemy, and the officer fled long before sabotage was suspected. What with all the following excitement and confusion, there was no in-depth investigation, the common belief being the saboteur was a disgruntled, lone-wolf seeking revenge for some imagined indignity.

  Over the many long years following, there had been several other accidents that followed similar blueprints, but no one connected the dots to consider there might be a mastermind behind a carefully crafted plot to cripple the leadership in the Children’s Empire. Now Gabrielle was beginning to see the pieces of the puzzle swirl together in her mind. As those pieces fell in place, the woman’s understanding of current events crystallized before her eyes.

  It was not about the Chisamore other than it being a convenient weapon to be used against Gabrielle. Only a person of high rank or authority or a trusted someone having serious connections in the government would be privy to the kind of support Gabrielle often gave to Mihai at critical times and have access to ships’ patrol routes and current locations. Then there would have been the necessity to place a saboteur aboard the ship. A saboteur - like at other times - also most likely perished in the same conflagration he or she created.

  Gabrielle quietly fumed. Once again, the enemy had taken advantage of their innocent naivety. No! It was their stubborn, arrogant unwillingness to accept the hypnotic power and evil cunning of their eldest sibling, how old feelings of fealty and devotion did not necessarily die, but would lie hidden beneath the surface, awaiting the siren’s call to be reawakened, and that there long existed one or more of those sirens nestled deep within the bosom of Children’s Empire.

  The timepiece on the wall struck its chimes, signaling the hour. Gabrielle looked up, painfully squinting through aching eyes. Few were the fleeting moments until her departure, with many details to be addressed before doing so. She also wanted to entertain Commodore Sands in a bit, an important formality enlisted by the Navy when welcoming new officers aboard. Later, after a private conference in her office, she and the commodore would exchange receivership of the RavensRook before the officers and crew, Gabrielle officially standing down the fleet to the new commander while also announcing that First officer BuetraSega would be captaining the ship.

  A knock came on the admiral’s door. In a moment, the ship’s surgeon stood in front of Gabrielle’s command desk.

  Standing, Gabrielle addressed the surgeon with her request. “The hour is late and I have so little time to finish my duties here, but first I have great need of a soothing, harmonic recharge. Would you be so kind to set up the sonic room for me, and also assist my wobbly legs to get there? I have but an hour.” She sighed, “Oh, but a wonderful hour in that chamber!”

  The surgeon smiled, tipping his cap as he bowed ever so slightly. “It will be my pleasure, my lord.”

  With that, Gabrielle and the surgeon, he knowing all too well the admiral’s condition, arm in arm, departed the stateroom and sauntered quietly toward the staging deck’s sonic chamber.

 

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