“You know what must happen,” my father said.
I cocked my head and looked at him, unsure of what he meant. The expression that crossed my father's face was inscrutable.
“Your brother will never stop,” he said. “Not until you are dead. You know this to be true.”
I nodded slowly. I did know that to be true. The question was, what to do about it. Clearly, my father had ideas – and the deep, shadowy part of my mind had an idea as well, though I hoped it was wrong.
He opened his eyes and spoke with authority. “You must do whatever is required for you to secure your throne, Bazarok. Whatever is required.”
The firmness and intensity with which he looked at me left little doubt about his meaning.
“I cannot do that, father,” I said. “I cannot…not my own brother.”
“If you do not, you will pay a heavy price,” he replied. “The ultimate price.”
“Perhaps. But at least I can go to our ancestors with a clear conscience,” I said. “A conscience not stained by fratricide.”
My father sighed heavily. “Bazarok, you will follow me to the throne when I go to meet our ancestors,” he said. “And you will do whatever is required of you to secure your place. Your brother cannot rule.”
I looked at my father and wanted to tell him that if he wanted Kapoc dead so badly, he could have his own men do it. I would not be a party to it. Part of the education my father had thrust upon me were the religious and philosophical teachings of civilizations from our own galaxy and galaxies beyond. It was meant to instill a respect for life into me, the compassion a ruler needed.
But in what was perhaps an unintended consequence, it had instilled a deep and abiding respect for life within me. So much so that the very thought of taking a life was abhorrent to me. I knew that the life I'd taken earlier in the evening would stay with me forever, but that had been a clear case of self-defense. Unless Kapoc came at me with a blade directly, I could not kill him – not even to secure my throne.
And knowing Kapoc as I did, he would not come at me directly. He was much too cautious – and perhaps even cowardly – for that. He would operate through surrogates and assassins. And because he would never challenge me directly, I could not simply kill him. It went against everything I stood for.
“Which is why a regent council–”
“You will rule,” my father's voice boomed and echoed around the chamber. “You, Bazarok. Not a regent council. I will speak of this foolishness no further. You may leave me now.”
He leaned back on his pillows and closed his eyes. The message was clear – I was dismissed. I knew that my arguments against taking the throne disappointed my father. He wanted me to lead Optorio. He wanted me to further his legacy while carving out my own. But that's not what I wanted. Not what I'd ever wanted. And he could not – would not – understand that I wanted to follow my heart and not his commands.
It wouldn't be long before he was gone to meet our ancestors, though. Then, I would have to decide what I was going to do – assume the throne and lead Optorio, or leave our world's future uncertain and chaotic under Kapoc's rule.
I stood and left my father's chamber, my mind and emotions swirling faster than a maelstrom upon the ocean's surface.
Chapter Four
My father didn't speak to me very often over the next couple of days. Of course, he didn't speak to anyone, really. His condition was worsening, and I knew he had very little time left. But then, my father had always been a stubborn and contrary man, so perhaps he would surprise us all by living on for years. It seemed impossible to most, but I was never one to doubt my father.
Kapoc continued to hover over him, posing as the concerned and solicitous son. But to me, he looked more like a carrion bird hovering over a still warm carcass. But in our culture, much was about appearances, and Kapoc was putting on a good show. At least for most.
When we were alone with our father, the air in the room was tense and was filled with the silent promise of violence. When he looked at me, it was with a palpable hatred. His glares were intense, and I could see the thoughts swirling around in his mind. He wanted me dead, and he was simply trying to figure out the best way to go about making that happen.
Unfortunately for Kapoc, as the second son, he was not afforded the education and training I received. Sure, his was better than most of our people's. But he wasn't being educated and trained to sit the throne. It was a slight he carried with him his entire life, and one he would use to justify killing me and taking the throne for himself.
I knew that Kapoc had allied himself with some particularly unsettling and violent elements within our typically peaceful society. He was accruing power underground, collecting forces that he would lead, presumably, in revolution to overthrow me and take control of Optorio for himself.
When the chime on the door to my chambers rang, I had a feeling I knew who was behind it and what they were going to say. With a sigh, I pressed a button on the console of my desk to let him in.
“Baz,” he said. “I bring news. Terrible news.”
I turned in my seat to face Tarkonil, my oldest and most trusted friend and confidante. He had a stricken expression upon his face. It was part sadness and part extreme fear.
“Your father–”
I nodded and held up my hand. “Has gone to our ancestors. I anticipated this news, my friend.”
Tarkonil lowered his head and nodded. “Yes, my lord. He has.”
A bolt of sadness lanced through my heart. There was much about my father that I did not like or appreciate, but there was much I did. After all, he was my father. However, I knew that I would not have much time to grieve, at least not now. Things were undoubtedly already in motion, and I had to move quickly.
“Where is my brother?” I asked. “And stop calling me that. I'm not your king.”
Tarkonil looked up. “But you are,” he said. “With your father gone, rule passes to you.”
I sighed. This was not a point I wanted to argue right then and there. “Where is my brother?”
“He is in his chambers with his advisors.”
“Of course he is.”
“Baz,” Tarkonil said, his tone more familiar – which I preferred, “you know that Kapoc is going to come for you.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“Your coronation is set for three days from now,” Tarkonil said. “I do not believe he will wait until then.”
“Nor do I.”
“So, what will you do?”
I leaned back in my seat. It was a question I'd had to ponder a lot more in recent days, for obvious reasons. Should I honor my father's wishes and take the throne? Or was it better to honor my heart by establishing a regent council, climbing into my ship, and leaving Optorio?
I looked up at Tarkonil. “What would you do?”
His grin was rueful. “I am glad I am not in a position to have to make that decision.”
“But what would you do?”
He sighed. “If I had to choose between sitting the throne and possibly being killed for it,” he started, “or leaving and enjoying the life I've been given, the choice seems rather simple to me.”
I nodded, unsurprised. Tarkonil believed much as I did, that a life devoid of happiness was not a life worth living. He knew my mind better than anyone and knew that I had no desire to sit the throne. The fact that he did not think less of me for it gave me a profound sense of relief.
I opened my mouth to speak and then closed it again, having said nothing. I didn't know what to say. I was genuinely torn.
“Your ship is ready, Baz,” he said. “It has been for some time. As is your list for the regent council. You've already made all of the necessary preparations. All you need to do is get on your ship and go.”
“I just don't know if it is the right thing to do,” I said. “If I leave and Kapoc seizes power–”
“The council has the royal guard at their back,” he replied. “He will not be able to seize
control. Not without a fight.”
I nodded slowly as the crux of my problem revealed itself. “The last thing I want to do is leave Optorio in turmoil. I do not want violence and bloodshed for our people.”
“There will be violence and bloodshed regardless of whether you leave of not,” Tarkonil said. “Kapoc is already in motion to seize the throne. There will be fighting, and there will be deaths. You can help minimize that by not leaving a power void and legitimizing the council.”
He was right. If I stayed, there would be civil war as Kapoc's faction sought to overthrow mine. If I left without legitimizing a council, there would be civil war as various factions fought to attain power and control. But if I legitimized a council, there would be a unified front to oppose Kapoc and, hopefully, minimize the bloodshed of the war to come.
“Baz,” Tarkonil continued, “Kapoc is going to move on you soon. You need to make a decision.”
It was a tense situation and my emotions should have been a blur. But I strangely found myself in a place of peace and acceptance. I knew what I needed to do, and I was ready.
“Please have my ship readied,” I said. “I will depart within the hour.”
Chapter Five
I should have known it wouldn't be as easy to escape from Optorio – and from Kapoc – as I'd hoped. I should have known that he'd never let me just leave. But there was that piece of me that still loved him because he was my brother, that still believed the best in him, and that there was a good man somewhere inside of him. The thought made me want to believe that he would do the right thing and do right by our people.
But when I picked up the two ships emerging from hyperspace behind me, all hope I had for Kapoc eventually coming around died a sudden death.
“Anjol,” I said, speaking to my ship's artificially intelligent operating system. “Identify the two craft behind us.”
“They are of Trogaran design,” the computer replied. “Heavily armed and armored. Each contains one pilot.”
“Trogaran assassins,” I said. “I guess I should be flattered.”
“Being assassinated hardly seems like something to be flattered about,” the computer replied dryly.
“His chosen assassins are an upgrade over the last one,” I said.
Trogaran's were known for their killing prowess. When you wanted someone dead quickly, you called a Trogaran, which told me that my brother was serious about getting rid of me. Very serious.
“Trogaran ships closing quickly,” the computer said. “They will overtake us in approximately twenty seconds.”
“Anjol, prepare to take evasive measures,” I said. “Head straight into that asteroid field.”
“Acknowledged,” the computer said.
The Trogaran's would follow me into the field, of course. When they were determined, Trogaran's could be the most persistent and stubborn creatures in the entire galaxy. They would follow me anywhere to ensure that the job got done and I was dead. Which meant that I needed any advantage I could get. The asteroid field wasn't much, but it was all I had.
“Trogaran ships have entered the asteroid field behind us.”
Their ships were small, maneuverable, and fast, much like the Trogaran's themselves. I wasn't hoping to lose them in the field; I was merely trying to slow them down.
“Anjol,” I said. “Fire bomb packs into the asteroids. Trigger them when the Trogaran vessels are within range.”
“Acknowledged.”
I didn't think my bomb packs would destroy them outright, but I was hoping to damage their crafts. At the very least, I wanted to slow them down just enough so that I could get away. There were two jolts to my ship as the bomb packs were fired off to anchor in the asteroids we'd just passed.
It didn't take long for the first explosion to go off. I saw the bright flash of light – brighter than I'd expected.
“First Torgaran ship destroyed,” Anjol informed me. “The second is still inbound.”
Though I was upset with the fact that I'd had to take another life, I could not deny the rush of excitement I felt in the heat of a fight. It was something primal within me, and something I was not necessarily proud of. I wanted to think that I was a little more enlightened than someone like Kapoc, but stripped down to my core – put in a situation where it was me or them – I had to reluctantly admit that there was an animalistic side that relished the chance to make sure it was not me.
I saw the flash of the other ship's cannons as its blasters fired at me. I moved evasively, trying to get out of the line of fire while also trying to avoid crashing into an asteroid at the same time – not the easiest of tasks.
“Anjol, how long until I am clear of this asteroid field?”
“At present velocity, you will clear the asteroid field in five seconds.”
Five seconds. A lifetime. The flash of cannon fire lit up the sky to the side of me. One of the errant shots hit a small asteroid, sending shards of jagged rock bouncing off the canopy of my ship. I had to get out of that field and into clear space if I was going to survive this encounter.
I increased my speed and before I knew it, I was in the clear. The Trogaran ship would be clearing the field in a heartbeat, so I knew I needed to do something drastic.
“Anjol, execute a one hundred and eighty-degree spin,” I called out. “Now!”
The ship reacted immediately, rotating quickly and getting into position just as the assassin's ship cleared the asteroid field. A small grin tugged at the corner of my mouth when I opened fire. I watched as my cannon blasts raked the hull of the Trogaran's ship, punching fiery holes into it. He was done for. A moment later, the ship exploded in a bright bloom of fire and shrapnel.
But my survival celebration was cut short a moment later when I saw the missile emerge from the fiery cloud of debris.
“Missile inbound,” Anjol said.
“You don't say,” I snapped.
The ship lurched as I hit the button to fire the engines. I gritted my teeth and pulled back on the maneuvering stick, trying to get myself out of range of the missile.
“Impact is inevitable,” Anjol said.
“Not if I can help it,” I said through gritted teeth.
The ship accelerated upward, but as I watched the streak of fire heading toward me, I knew I wasn't going to make it. There simply wasn't enough time or distance between us. Impact was indeed inevitable.
Yanking the maneuvering stick, I tried to minimize the coming impact. And it worked – to a degree. My body was thrown to the side, and I had the wind knocked out of me as the missile slammed into the my ship, blowing a hole in my rear thruster. I could see the glow of the fiery explosion in the reflection off the ship's canopy.
“Anjol, clear that fire,” I snapped. “Now.”
“Fire suppression activities engaged,” the computer's voice said. A moment later, it followed up by saying. “Fire suppression activities successful.”
I let out a sigh of relief. At least I wasn't going to explode into a fiery ball on the outer edge of an asteroid belt.
“Status report, Anjol.”
“Thruster one offline,” the computer said. “Thruster two damaged but operable. Efficiency is less than forty percent, however.”
“Do long range sensors detect anything else coming out of hyperspace?”
“I detect nothing,” Anjol said. “Your path appears clear for now.”
“Find me a habitable planet, Anjol,” I said. “I must land and repair the ship.”
“Scanning.”
I leaned back in the seat and rubbed my eyes. Looking around at the stars, I drank it all in. The universe around me was a wonder to behold. With so much going on, I hadn't had time to properly soak it in and appreciate the beauty around me.
There were thousands – millions – of stars all around me. I was approaching a very large, strange looking planet with a giant red spot that almost looked like an eye. It was so strange and so wonderful. I'd never seen anything like it. I'd flown fighters befo
re. It had been part of my education. But that had been training, and I'd never had the opportunity to really appreciate the galaxy around me. My father had always made sure my trainers kept me on task and learning. That, and to keep an eye on me in case I'd had the idea to fly off.
I felt like a child as I stared in wonder of the world around us for the first time. Staring at the galaxy all around me, I recalled having my father take me below the surface of the ocean for the first time. It had been so strange, so exotic, and so beautiful, just as the darkness of the space around me currently was.
“Habitable planet has been located,” Anjol's voice interrupted my reverie. “Charting course. Would you like to manually pilot?”
“No,” I said. “You pilot us there. I don't want to miss anything.”
“Piloting engaged.”
I leaned back in my seat and looked at the monitor to see where Anjol was taking me. It was a planet filled with blues and greens. It looked lush and beautiful. I had no idea what planet it was, but I was anxious to find out.
Until we arrived though, I was a passenger and wanted to do nothing but sit back and admire the beautiful view that surrounded me. This is what I'd wanted – a trip into the unknown with alien vistas ahead of me.
Of course, I could have been happier had I not had to battle assassins in order to enjoy the view.
Chapter Six: Paige
The last of the customers had filtered out, and I locked the door behind them. The Mahogany Tavern was closed for the night. Good thing, too, for I was beat. It had been a wild but enjoyable night. One of my favorite musicians, Milo Golding, had graced our stage unexpectedly. I'd been set and ready to do a set of my own, but when I saw him walk through the door, I knew there was no way I was not going to put him on stage.
He'd protested at first, insisting that he'd come only as a patron. He'd said he wanted nothing more than a few beers and to enjoy the local music scene. But I'd convinced him to do a couple of songs – and that had turned into a four-hour set. Milo was an older guy, but he still held the audience in the palm of his hand.
Mated to a Bear (Legends of Black Salmon Falls Book 3) Page 16
