Anna stepped up, and put a hand on his arm.
"We’ll need to go. Get away ahead of them. Will you help us?"
He thought for a moment.
"We could do with your ship in a fight, but I think you should get out while you can. We hae’ a few tricks up our sleeves! It’s been over time to face these new threats." He grinned. "Things have been a wee too quiet for too long! Time for some action!" He thought for a moment. "Jamie?"
Jamie looked up.
"Fancy a wee trip round the galaxy? Ye’ve always wanted to travel. How would you like to help these two out?"
Before Jamie could answer, he turned to face Snark and Anna.
"It's not much, but you need a bit of muscle and some back up support. What I’d expect in exchange is, well, to be in on the deal. Us Scots are considered to have a speculative share in the, whatever, the Stone. And also," he paused, "ye bring the lad safe home."
Anna looked at Jamie as if she’d only just seen him.
"Alright. Agreed." She smiled. "A small share. And as you say, it's speculative."
Jamie looked surprised.
"Hey, I haven’t said aye yet!"
"What do you say?"
He didn’t hesitate.
"Aye!"
"If they’re after you, we’ll do what we can to delay them. Within reason of course."
Mac had turned back to the screen and was typing emails into the coms console.
"If they’re after us, then weel gie them something to think aboot!"
"Thank you so much for all your help."
Anna also paused. She turned to Maraid.
"The picture. In the hallway. It…"
"Yes, my dear?"
"What was the name? On the bottom of the frame?"
"The landscape. The one my grandmother painted?" she smiled. "That auld thing! She was supposed to have seen it in a dream… Monifieth, she called it."
"Monifieth."
Snark was miffed. No one had asked him what he was going to do, or what his cut would be. Cut of what? He reminded himself. Bloody mop heads! Now he had to share a ship with two of them. The red headed mop head seemed particularly hopeless. Oh well, perhaps, he would see. He would wait and see.
Fifteen
Ahead of the raider ships, they were well out of range before the other ships could see them with their significantly inferior scanners. Snark had plotted a course to take them around the raider ships, within their own scanner range, but well outside theirs.
Before leaving the manor, Jamie had stopped momentarily to pick up a few belongings, have a briefing with Mac, and say goodbye to Maraid.
Also before they left, Maraid had taken Anna aside.
"Be very careful my dear. Always trust in your gift, but be humble. You need to be able to say 'I could be wrong.'"
Anna was momentarily flustered.
"I will," she managed.
She now sat in the lounge, with the other two on the Bridge. It turned out Jamie was not such a backwater ignoramus as she’d thought. The Scots were not Highlander rustics after all, but almost well up to speed on technology, albeit a few centuries out of date. But apparently they were already updating themselves with what the Kingdom had to offer. But as Jamie mentioned when he saw the Bridge for the first time, ship designs hadn’t changed all that much over the last few centuries. Snark didn’t bother telling him about Jane's newer ships.
Jamie had been schooled in many things, but particularly in space piloting, ship's systems, and weapons systems. He was getting up to speed on the Seasprite, and learning fast.
She was busy herself. Accessing the archives with her PC, she was searching for information on the Stone of Destiny. It seemed too much of a coincidence, and she needed to be sure. The more information she could find out the better. And she had a lead. The mysterious Monifieth painting, almost exactly like the one in her visions.
In the absence of any other destination, they were headed for relatively empty space in sector nine. They needed time to plan their next steps, and also to ensure they weren’t being followed.
She sighed. Too much happening too quickly. She needed time to assimilate the facts and the fiction, and find answers in order to continue. And who were the enemy? She could feel forces against her growing. She must keep going. They were closer than at any time in the long history of the Russia's.
Sometimes she felt it was too heavy a burden. She was a princess, but she was just a girl. She often felt as if she was unprepared for all of this. And the burden of her lost people weighed heavily. What if it was all some kind of dream? What would it all be but waste?
It couldn’t be, it just couldn’t. Eddie, Zema, and the others. They were her family. There must be some sense to it all.
Back on the planet, Mac sipped his whisky thoughtfully, while keeping an eye on the raider's ships, still bearing down on his homeworld. He’d already emailed the clan chiefs, and the guild heads on the council. They were ready. He didn’t expect a ground action, but they'd be prepared for one all the same.
Maraid was going to go back to her hut in the woods, despite her son’s admonition to stay put. He might want her where he could keep an eye on her, but she wanted to be closer to the source of her power, the sights, scents, sounds, textures, and tastes of her five senses which supported her sixth, and other senses. The closer she was to nature, the closer she was to the universe and the heart of things. She needed to be close to be able to sense what was coming, and also to recognise it when it chose to show itself. It may be her warnings were the ones which counted.
Mac knew they’d been lucky so far. Thanks to his ancestors, the Owls had left them alone so much so they’d been able to leave the mountains and build something modest, but fitting for the Scots people. Now all of it was changing, and while he felt responsible himself for the far-flung colony, it was up to the clans and the Kingdom they'd joined, to protect what had been built.
"It’s funny isn’t it," he said more to the room and himself than to his mother. "A bunch of pissed Scots leave the known galaxy, crash land on this planet, and establish something fine. Something worth fighting for."
"It’s always been worth fighting for," his mother added. "Whether the original Scotland or here. And we can always disappear into the mountains again."
"Ye’re a romantic, mother."
"Thank ye Mac."
He grinned at a thought.
"What are ye grinning for?"
His grin grew wider, but no answer was forthcoming.
Sixteen
The Grand Mother surveyed the gathered members of the High Order. The heads of all of the most important families formed the High Order, and made decisions of importance which affected the Cats of the Plains.
Yet she was the head of heads, the Mother of mothers. Her Pounce was Prime. Her word counted more than most, and would carry close votes.
The cacophony of consultations, questions, bickering, and altercations was overwhelming. Such disorder was unseemly. And yet the news was disturbing.
She raised her arm and a paw with claws extended waved in the air. At once the room hushed as the members stopped their conversations in mid breath.
"Order," she hissed. "Order."
The room became quiet, and she knew she had their attention.
"We know the Owls have been defeated," she purred. "This is a great outcome for us."
Several of the members hissed to themselves.
"The humans will soon be populating the Gauntlet, now called Hunter's Run, and the systems beyond owl space. While this is not a direct threat to us, it destabilises this region of space. There is already talk of Bhatet and the Brotherhood moving in to threaten us."
Growling and hissing became louder, and filled the auditorium.
"Who are these humans who have such power?" asked a delegate from the far plains.
"By all accounts," replied Grand Mother, "they are a bizarre shape, having only two arms and two legs in a single long thin upright body,
standing an average of three times above us." The room buzzed. "They apparently have advanced technology, far outstripping ours. They are in great favour with the Sector Ten Council, and our own Sector Eight Council is already seeking contact with them. How could they not be powerful if they managed to achieve what no one has been able to do in centuries? They seem to be ethical creatures, at least they have expressed themselves to be seeking the good of the many over the few. But who can tell? It is very early days. Their Queen Jane has establish a Kingdom in the old Gauntlet. The Human Federation will seek to establish colonies in what was owl space between the new Kingdom, the old boundaries of owl space, and their homeworld, the location of which is not known to anyone except humans. It is my understanding the Federation humans have a blockade in place until the purple plant has been eradicated from their new territory. It is a whole new galaxy for us, and for all of the galaxy species. They will hold power beyond measure due to their technology. The old order based on owl bat supremacy has fallen. There is a rush to fill the vacuum created. Bhatet and the Brotherhood are now direct threats to our planet."
A fresh round of questions, altercations, and general mayhem ensued.
The Grand Mother signed and waited.
Sometimes, she felt as if she was too old and tired to bear the burden of leadership for this mismatched group of felines.
But she had a greater challenge. And she needed to gain their support.
"I propose a World Council," she yelled over the din.
The words fell into the depths of the auditorium. There was an immediate uproar. Delegates gesticulated frantically, hissed, spat, their tails thrashing, and some even trying to puff up their bare skin. She waited patiently for them to vent, and for silence to fall so she could explain herself.
"I propose a gathering of all of the cats across the world. This is a momentous change for us, and we need to consult more widely than just the Cats of the Plains. We need to be united in a plan to combat any threats to our world as a whole."
The uproar continued, if anything becoming loader and more unruly. Several delegates were in fights with each other, some were trying to get the floor, and others were swiping each other with claws outstretched. Some were loudly disclaiming, some were sitting, hunched in their places.
The Grand Mother sighed and pressed a button. A loud screeching sound pierced the auditorium. Delegates clamped their paws over their ears. The arena hushed.
The Grand Mother cut off the siren.
Silence.
She sighed again. Such children.
"We are the Cats of the Plains. We are the civilised ones. But we cannot forget our brothers and sisters in the forests, the deserts, and wildernesses of this planet. The Cats of the Plains are not the only ones on this world. We cannot and will not make decisions which affect all of us without their input. We must call a World Council. We who pride ourselves on being civilised, who are we to deny the others on this world a voice?"
No-one attempted to answer the rhetorical question.
"And we need their help. We alone cannot fight the forces which may be ranged against us."
She didn’t mention the evil also approaching. The cold evil. The sinister evil, cold and unfeeling.
"A World Council is unnecessary!" The Grand Mother recognised Miskerwheeze. A known bigot. "We alone should decide our destiny!"
There was a chorus of "Ayes".
The Grand Mother sighed again. She was getting frustrated.
"When the Owls threatened us, who saved us?" she said quietly. She could see some attention building. "The Wild Ones. They were the ones who saved us. Their ability to fight saved us."
They all knew this. Hairless and small, the Cats of the Plains had adopted civilisation, but had lost some ability to fight. The Wild Ones had been the ones to save the world when the Owls and their flunkies of several other species had threatened. The Cats of the Plains had negotiated and sealed the Agreement. Sometimes they forgot this was the case.
The debate raged on and on into the night, and the next day.
Seventeen
The Grand Mother had gone to have a nap, come back after, and they were no further forward. How could she break into their consciousness and get them to see sense?
She turned on the back lit screen and started to draw. First she drew the cat’s system and their world. Then she drew the basics of the nearby sectors. She drew the old owl Empire, and the new human systems. Then she added the threats she knew of, and knew they would understand.
"Here," she broke into the discussions loudly, "here, and here, we are vulnerable to attack. Bhatet’s influence is growing, and he controls the Brotherhood. And then there are the humans. Queen Jane has shown herself to be merciful. But the other humans are an unknown quantity. And there are a lot of them. From their sector ten council application, many billions of them. With advanced technology."
She almost had them now.
"But we have a secret weapon."
The room went quiet, and still. At this she knew she finally had their full attention.
"We had a representative of our own present when Queen Jane defeated the Owls. He was, and is, in a unique position. He understands the humans, and has seen their power. He will be able to advise us on our next steps. But we also need our brothers and sisters of this world to help us to survive and prosper."
"Who is it? Who is the representative?"
A chorus of questions surrounded the Grand Mother.
This was the point where she knew she was at risk. She went ahead anyway.
"It is my Grandson, Prrinks."
The auditorium erupted into chaos again. It took some time to calm.
"He can’t be trusted! A fraud! A shyster!"
Several other names and accusations were thrown around.
"This is all hearsay," she again spoke quietly. Delegates started to listen again. "He was never charged. There is no evidence. He is the one who was on the spot, and has built a relationship with the powerful Queen Jane. He was there when the Kingdom of Hunter's Run came into existence, and this Jane was crowned Queen. Whether we agree or not, we need him."
Again the debate raged. Some accused her of nepotism, some could not get past the politics of the past, some saw the value of enlisting him in their cause, and some wanted to isolate themselves and their planet from danger.
Once more she resorted to the alarm.
"Delegates! I ask you to put aside your petty allegiances, your fears, and your biases. We need a unified response to the new threats, and we should use all of the tools at our disposal. This includes all of our wild brethren, and also whatever advantages we have to use. Enough talking! We must put it to a vote."
Silently, the delegates keyed in their votes. The computer automatically tallied the results which showed on the big screen.
The graphs started to build and grow. The changes slowed and merged. Finally, the Grand Mother could see the result. She sighed.
"I have the deciding vote. I vote for a World Council, and to recall Prrinks to attend."
She swept from the room, leaving chaos behind her. No-one could deny her the deciding vote, but a one vote majority never solved anything. It did allow her however, to get started on what must be done.
In her den, she curled up in her sleeping bed under the light-well. It had clouded over, so she shivered slightly, and held herself tighter. Things were becoming urgent. Not only organising her replacement, but the survival of the Cat World as a whole. And Prrinks. She was looking forward to seeing him, but it would be difficult, she knew.
She’d sent the emails, and also the summonses by land. One of the emails was to her Grandson, which would hopefully reach him, wherever he was now. She’d also sent messages to key allies to ensure if he didn’t get the message, someone would pass it along. She hadn’t wanted to leave it to aides. She wanted all to know how serious it was. She wanted, needed, them all to come.
A World Council had not been held for a long time. There wa
s much to do.
She'd set the timing on the basis Prrinks was still at Hunter Prime. If he was, he'd arrive just before the council was convened. If he wasn’t, he would either be early, late, or not turn up at all.
She signed, turned around in the bed, and curled up again. She purred softly to herself, and slept.
Eighteen
Anna was getting frustrated. While she had all of the files pertaining to the Destiny Stone and its history, she could find little on the Scottish Stone of Destiny. All she could find was a few obscure references to the history of the Scots. The Stone had been either an ancient Stone, a place, or a throne. Scots Kings had needed to sit on it to be crowned the true King of the Scots. It had been taken to England when the Scots were defeated at one point, and lost from then on. Several times in history, Scots had tried to find it, as it was rumoured to have great power. That was it.
She thought about all she knew of the Destiny Stone. In the Russian story, it was a gem stone, having miraculous powers including healing, but also giving the possessor great power. It magnified the wishes of the owner, so it could do great good, or great evil. It had been held safely by the Tsars of Russia, over centuries, and in the course of those centuries the Tsars had not really known what they had, having lain in their treasury for a long time. It was secreted and taken away by the fleeing White Russians after the Civil War and defeat at the hands of the Communists in the early twentieth century. It had passed through several different owners in that time, until the great Alexander of Greater Minsk had rediscovered it not long before the last Russians had evacuated the rapidly becoming uninhabitable Earth. It had been in the family’s possession ever since, taken to a secret place within the Russian sector, and kept closely guarded, And during the ensuing years, somehow it had disappeared. It had become her family’s mission to find it again.
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