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Ghost of an Empire (Sentinel Series Book 3)

Page 10

by Richard Flunker


  In treason, the Dominar exclaimed in his message.

  In salvation, she thought.

  The first Legion had proved its value. They did appear on the walls of the holy seat. They fought with no hint of surrender, and much to the blood spilled of her own Seventh. Still, even they were overcome in two days. Their own refusal to surrender made the battle all the shorter. Deespa could only wonder what would have happened if they actually tried to wage a war of attrition as opposed to one of glory and legend. Somewhere, in their long lost past, the nobles of the Dominion still thought of warfare as a series of independent battles that decided the war. It was any wonder they won wars against Sol or the Alliance.

  Then again, those ten foot soldiers probably had something to do with that.

  More and more troops descended onto Coran in the following days. Cities were taken, mostly without spilling any blood. With the first Legion eliminated to the last man, the Queen declared her Seventh Legion to now be the First Grand Army of Man. They marched towards the Holy Seat and the Dominar. The nobles weren’t happy about the end of the way of life, and took action.

  On Secundaria, she knew about the genovirus, and hoped there wasn’t anymore. Apparently, the nobles, while powerful, lived ever in fear or rebellion. Her troops first came across the release of the virus around Otheria, one of the numerous cities in the path of the Queen’s fast moving army. Scouting had reported enemy movement in the northern outskirts of the city, but there hadn’t been enough time to get something in orbit above to confirm. In either case, the First Legion was already on their death throes at that point, so the worst they could throw at the Seventh was regulars. If these regulars tried to make a stand, it would be a massacre.

  Instead, the massacre was done for them.

  The fleeing nobles had released the virus onto the city itself. The few survivors that remained behind, those few lucky to have resisted the onslaught, told a terrible story. The commander of the local units, seeing himself facing the might of the Seventh, had urged a peaceful surrender. The nobles were having none of it, but didn’t have the courage to face them. They had the regulars form up in the center of the city so that the surrender could proceed, and then dispersed the virus over the city as they left.

  It was a gruesome sight. The incredibly fast acting virus was a cancer on hellish dimensions. It infected the body, and within two minutes, began making cells all over the body start duplicating out of control. The grotesque piles of corpses, barely blobs of distorted flesh, lay crumbled throughout the downtown of the city. At least thirty thousand men, who hoped to end their part in the war, had been sacrificed to the arrogance of the nobles.

  She walked among the desecration of life there on Otheria. War had casualties, but this wasn’t war, this was cowardice. They would have to pay for this, they all would.

  “Tear down that door,” Deespa ordered.

  “As you command, Magyo,” the Legionnaire responded. He barked an order and two heavy mechs walked up.

  In front of them lay the inner chamber doors to the holy seat. The fighting at the temple had been vicious, but pointless. The Dominar’s forces were completely surrounded, their power and water cut off. What few forces they had left, personal security and bodyguards, fought to their bitter deaths, as their oaths dictated. The outer courtyard had already become a processing center for the captured. Yet, none of the noble family heads had been captured. They were all in there, with their god, trembling for their lives.

  Up in orbit, a few straggling Dominion ships had slung into orbit and surrendered. Word was spreading quickly through the empire that Coran had fallen, as was, by this point, expected. The media press of a hundred different systems was in orbit or on the ground, recording the historic moment. Some had even managed to setup their cameras in the courtyard. The final moment in their campaign for freedom was upon them. All eyes would be on her.

  “Can we open them without using force?” she asked one of the commanders next to her.

  He looked up momentarily from his tablet. “Those doors have a three layer magnetic seal. The mechanism can be hacked, but we are looking at a day or two. I can have my tech’s come in and get started if you wish.”

  She sat comfortably in her mech. She had designed the sleek machine specifically for her, even using completely unheard of alloys of her own creation. The result was an unexpected visage that terrified as much as it awed. Already, the most popular image of the Queen was of her in the mech, leading her Doomguard into battle.

  “No,” she said, gesturing to the two heavy mechs. “We need to end this now. No better way than to blast down the doors that represent their tyranny.”

  She turned and walked back while the heavies took aim. The first walked up to about twenty feet from the middle of the giant set of doors. The outer layer of the door was made out of pure gold, layered with the symbols of each family in silver. The heavy mech dug into the concrete floor, and the giant laser on its back began to hum and glow. And intense burst of light poured out from the mech, right into the door, melting the gold and silver off as it began to bore into the door. It continued on this way for about thirty seconds, then powered down. Smoke poured from the weapon as it stomped loudly out of the way.

  The second mech took its place, and aimed its rocket back at the borehole. It had only one rocket on it, a bunker buster. He shouted out a warning, then the missile flew out from the pack and into the hole the laser had created. The missile was tipped with a gravity burst bomb. When the rocket flew in, the bomb imploded, creating a mini-sling, throwing the rocket and nearly a one fifth percent of the speed of light. The resulting release of energy smashed through the door, smashing through the magnetic locks.

  As the dust cleared, Deespa slid the helmet back over the top of her mech, and she walked towards the crumbling door. She had one more trick up her sleeve. As the dust settled, she made sure the cameras were on her, and she reached out with her gravity field. In one motion, she threw one of the doors aside. It came crashing down with pieces of the wall still attached to it. With a second wave of her hands, the same gravity field blew all the dust away, clearing an entrance for her.

  Her Doomguard went in first, guns raised and ready for any action from the inner chamber. Deespa entered next, right down the middle towards the middle of the room. Several soldiers from the Seventh took up her rear and went for the broken down entrance.

  Inside, several groups were huddled together. The chamber was enormous, and lavishly decorated. Huge columns reached towards the domed ceiling, where they joined together in an arch. The throne sat on a raised dais, surrounded by a moat of red water. The blood of those he defeated, that was the significance of it. A large dog sat at the foot of the dais, sitting calmly. Several women sat along the dais itself, on different heights. Around the bottom stood five men, all tall, ten to twelve feet high. The family fathers, the heads. She recognized each one, and recalled instantly the genocide and tyranny of each one. She could name each one.

  “How dare you breach the sanctity of….”

  His name was Targo, father of the Yorrida family. Descendant from the first Dominar.

  First to be silenced.

  She had practiced many times before, but she knew that the accuracy of her gravity field had much to be improved. She held out her hand, palm open, and in one motion, closed her hand, fingers over thumb. The man’s jaw crushed up into his nose. The room gasped in shock as he dropped to the ground, blood pouring from the mess of flesh and teeth on his face.

  A Doomguard stepped forward, shouting “Speak not unto Magyo, lest her hand silence you.”

  Deespa continued walking, her authority now viciously proven. As she got closer to the throne, she noticed several children hiding in among the women as well. She tried to recollect who they might be. Procreation among the nobles only worked in one way, and that wasn’t through the natural way. The women and the children were there likely to give an impression of fatherliness. She just wasn’t sure to who. A
very few scant people were given access to the Dominar.

  She could see the figure on the throne, but with a few more steps, her mind began to play tricks on her. A few more steps later, and her eyes saw it for sure.

  The Dominar was a child.

  One of the women, the one lowest on the dais, came rushing forward. Two Doomguard ran forward, but Deespa stopped them. She threw herself at the Queen’s feet, and in a sobbing tone, cried out:

  “You are in the presence of the Dominar, Lago-es, Only of his Kind, Father of all Men, Lord of Man’s Kingdoms, Watcher over All. To him all come for blessings, to all he gives his might. Descendant of Ergos the First, through him all blood was borne, with lines in…”

  With one swift wave of her hand, she sent the woman sprawling over to the side. Deespa gave her a second quick glance to make sure she was ok. She was in a heap, several feet from her, drops of tears splashing on the cold solid floor of the throne room.

  Another man walked slowly forward from the many huddled forms. He came slowly to her, his eye on her hand and on her Doomguard. As he came closer, be bowed his head, if ever so slightly, keeping an eye on the Dominar child as well. When he was about twenty feet from Deespa, the Doomguard raised their rifles and he stopped. He stood there, waiting, not daring to move. Finally, she spoke.

  “Speak.”

  He sighed heavily, the echo of his breath of relief reverberated against the silence.

  “My name is…” he began.

  “You are, Ternak of the Reyfa.”

  Her voice was strong, powerful, amplified by her suit to the point the man quickly threw his hands up over his ears. He cowered momentarily, and waited for the echo to die down. Deespa quickly looked up at the child ruler, but he had shown no reaction.

  “I am. We,” he said, waving his arm back at the others huddled behind him, “are from the families that…” he stopped for a moment. “You know, who we are.”

  “I do,” her voice boomed.

  “We have been, always, here. All of us, live on through him,” he said, pointing up at the Dominar, “but we know, that at times, one comes that is greater.” He stopped for a moment and looked back at the Dominar.

  “All that must be done now,” he said, a slight tremble in his voice, “is to replace him, and sit on your throne.”

  The child stood up and shouted.

  “How dare you.”

  His voice was young, but powerful. Other shouts came from behind him, but not as many as she expected. Ternak turned and shouted back, but Deespa raised her hand, and silence followed.

  A loud hiss proclaimed her exit from the mech, as the helmet slid back, and the torso opened up. She stepped out of it, revealing herself, finally, to her enemies. They fought their war, and they lost, but now they assumed a resumption of the old ways. Plenty of Dominars had been deposed before to be replaced by whichever family sponsored him, and they assumed the same with her. She did, after all, have a ‘sponsor’ family.

  “I am Magyo,” she said, her voice thunderous, even without amplification.

  Ternak looked down immediately, and the child Dominar sat down, nearly stumbling out of the throne.

  “I am reborn,” she continued, “to see this world reborn of an empire of truth and justice, not greed, perversion and cruelty. An empire for all men, not to be ruled by just a few.”

  “But these are the ways. We have power through our bloodlines,” Ternak said, almost a whimper.

  “You have corruption. And murder, greed, deception, destruction,” she took a step forward, and to all in the room, it seemed as if she grew in stature. “You personally authorized the death of seventeen million men, women and children in the Ragaesa system. Millions more die without authorization.”

  “Mere slaves, your greatness,” he said, looking around in fear.

  “You are a slave now.”

  With those words, two seventh Legion solders rushed forth, grabbed the man, and toppled him over. He was larger than even they, but he crumbled over, terrified. As they drug him out, bracers clasped over his wrists and legs, another man stepped forward in protest.

  “You cannot just destroy everything we have made,” he shouted.

  “More than you already have? I don’t see it as possible. You, Haffer of Altaman, find delight in torturing children, making them scream in agony before slowly draining their lives. Thousand have perished at your hands alone, for what? For your empire?”

  Deespa tested her precision. The skin and flesh of Haffer came ripping off the front of his body, as screams followed. She had cried when she read of his horrific actions, and wanted to see him suffer equally. Someone came rushing out from the huddled groups, but a Doomguard quick took aim and fired, blowing a hole through his head. The room erupted into screams.

  “You, Kaelk of Bytria, altered the blood of your own children, to give them deformities. These you paraded to others for your ridicule and enjoyment.”

  With another wave of her hand, his insides suddenly bloated, ripping his skin apart at the torso. As he screamed, he reached down to grab his innards, but they fell through his hands.

  Deespa continued walking forward, dispensing her judgment with power.

  “Maulg of Coran, you send colonists to their certain deaths, just to setup petty claims, then lay waste to planets, voiding them of all life.”

  Without moving her hands, she swiped a powerful gravity wave through his body. As his insides liquefied, they erupted in explosive fashion from his rear. He dropped in a puddle of blood and flesh.

  The screams continued to fill the air. Men dropped down on their knees and face, begging for mercy. Deespa walked slowly towards them, their frightful cries increasing. She then motioned her soldiers over.

  “To each of you, a crime against your people. And for that, justice and truth will prevail.”

  The soldiers rushed in among them and began taking them into custody. Some of them cried in in relief, thanking her. For most, it wouldn’t be enough. They were all responsible for more death and destruction, but no longer would it be only her decision.

  When she reached the dais, all the women and children had rushed off into the darkness. The dog still remained, and Deespa quietly reached out and touched him. The dog looked up, oblivious to the grand scale of events that had just taken place. He began panting and wagged his tail, if just slightly. At that moment, she envied him.

  She climbed up towards the throne, and as she reached the top, the child stood up. She could sense the fear, but also, pride.

  “Do what you wish. I am not afraid of you,” he said. In any other time, his bravery would have been mentioned in stories, but today, there were no more witnesses.

  “You have nothing to fear from me. You are no longer ruler of all men, but perhaps, you can just be a child. Someday, you may rule your own fate.”

  As the child was led away, Deespa took that moment to breathe. Down below, she could feel the action, her soldiers doing as instructed. Soon, the temple would be razed, but not until every last bit of technology was removed. Rumors abounded of great wealth in knowledge under the temple, and Deespa wanted it all exposed for her people.

  Her people.

  She looked at the throne. When she was sure no one was watching, she let out a small whimper. Her eyes welled up with tears, but she cleared them up. Centuries of life, and yet, at this moment, only the heart of a young woman.

  One world was saved. Now she had to save another.

  3127 – Coran, Commonwealth Embassy in Homur Abbas

  “Over there, get that,” Hosha said, nearly twisting the camera from Allo’s shoulder.

  Three months of rule, and things were quite different. The celebration that had overtaken the planet had come as a surprise to many. Even with her amazing charisma, and of course, her overwhelming military force, word was among Commonwealth and Alliance systems that the civil war would still rage on, even on Coran. But the turnover happened quickly. What few still loyal Dominionists remained managed to
flee the system, but many simply changed sides. Most only to save their skins, but some actually believed.

  The Dominion hadn’t completely collapsed either. The empire was far larger than the Commonwealth and Alliance combined, and many systems were simply too far out of the way and of little importance. Coran had always been the goal and destiny of the Queen Magyo the Second. The only remaining functioning Dominion fleet had vanished, most likely to one of those outlying systems. The Fifth Legion had disappeared with them as well, but the Fourth had shown up suddenly over Coran, and sworn their allegiance to the Queen. Instead, she made them swear allegiance to the new empire she had created from the dirty ashes of the Dominion.

  The Union of Free Worlds.

  Catchy name was all Hosha could think.

  The Queen, Magyo, would sit at the very top, where her and her family would rule. But her position, she guaranteed, was not absolute. Instead, she would function as a head of state, a chief in command of the military in times of galactic war, and as a mediator between the states of the union. Her seat, of course, would be Coran, but the planet itself would run by itself, without her interference.

  Each planet would be ruled by a separate figure from an appointed noble family. This head would function much like the Queen herself, but on a planetary scale. In this way, she maintained the families, allowing them to keep their power and prestige. But two powerful changes took place as well, that limited the nobles. The first was that, like the Queen herself proposed, these rulers functioned as heads of their planet. Positions underneath him or her would be elected by the population of that planet in whichever way they deemed best, but never appointed by the nobles. In this way, each planet had representation among the government. These elected officials answered to the families, but also to the people themselves.

  The second change, and one far more dramatic, was the practice of genetic reproduction. No longer were the families able to create their own men and women from the chosen genetics of their bloodlines. Instead, in order to maintain their royal lines and keep the throne of any planet they had, they would have to pass on their inheritance to their free-born children. Genetic manipulation could be used during pregnancy to eliminate disease and handicaps, but not ever to change or enhance. The bloodlines would be left to fate, or nature, whichever they chose to believe.

 

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