Spirit of Empire 4: Sky Knights

by Lawrence White

Havlock didn’t hesitate. “This is a fighting ship. I’d guess it’s probably seen as much action as we have.”

  Captain Rivard met them at the passenger entrance ramp. Havlock suspected who he was and met him with outstretched hand. “Well done, sir.”

  “My pleasure, Governor. We threw a few kinks into the traffic system, but when I told them who it was for, they were willing to shut down the port for a few minutes. Welcome aboard.”

  Havlock introduced everyone and asked,“What have you been told about your mission?”

  “I’m taking a bunch of passengers and supplies to Tranxte. That’s about all I know.”

  “It’s an emerging world, so you’ll have to keep a low profile. I don’t have a clue what we’re going to do with the supplies. We might be able to drop them at night . . .” Havlock went internal, knowing the issue would require some creative problem solving. He probably wouldn’t be going out with caravans for a while.

  Galborae recognized the look on Havlock’s face and knew he might end up standing there in the doorway for quite a while. He motioned to the rest of the group and put his arm around Rivard’s shoulder, leading him up into the ship. “Let your men know they won’t want shore leave. Ever heard of gleasons . . .?”

  Graylee took all this in silently, but she missed nothing. She watched Hawke as he worked, always seeking convergence with everyone, and wondered if she could ever make a place for herself in this tight group. She couldn’t join them until the fighting ended, that was the restriction Hawke had placed on her, but the more she listened to them the more she grew to understand that it was the fighting, the constant sacrifice and danger, that tied them together. She would never be a part of this group the way Hawke foresaw. He was looking through blinders when it came to her.

  She, on the other hand, looked out at her world without blinders. She liked Hawke, they both shared a strong connection to each other, and she wanted to become a part of this amazing group of people, but how could she make it happen?

  Havlock came out of his reverie when Atiana returned and put a hand on his arm. He saw Galborae disappearing down a corridor with everyone else and looked to her in surprise.

  “Galborae has things in hand, Sky Lord.”

  “Should we return to the park?”

  She turned and put her arms around his neck, not caring who might be watching. “We had our little interlude. It’s time to get back to work. I hear Tranxte calling.”

  Havlock deflated. “I wanted to take you on a date.”

  “What’s a date?”

  “I think your people call it courting.”

  “Well!” She kissed him lightly on the mouth. “You have my permission to begin courting, though I think that’s already well under way.” She turned him and stepped into the great ship. Thankfully, Galborae and Captain Rivard had waited for them. Neither of them had a clue how to find their way around.

  Graylee hung back with Hawke, liking what she saw. The relationship between the Governor and Atiana called to her. She lifted her eyes to Hawke and studied him as he watched the Governor and Atiana, then he turned to her and their eyes met. She barely knew him, but she not only felt a strong connection, she sensed his desire. Despite that, he would not let her follow him. What kind of man made such a choice? Could things really be so bad there?

  * * * * *

  Supplies, mostly in the form of weapons and military rations for distribution to the general populace of Tranxte, entered the ship in a steady flow, a flow that lasted for three days and nights. General Stymes and thirty of his senior officers and enlisted men boarded, Graylee returned to her university, and the squadron set out for Tranxte.

  Havlock and Galborae spent most of their time training the marines. They spent a little time on basic tactics, but tactics for fighting gleasons really had to be experienced rather than just discussed. These senior soldiers were rusty on basic soldiering skills such as marksmanship and conditioning, so they spent the majority of their time improving those. He did not need to remind any of them that they would be fighting for their lives. They would outrank many squad leaders and caravan commanders, but during their initial forays with caravans they would be subject to orders from those junior officers. For them, it would be like going back to basic officers’ training.

  The six of them took a few hours of respite each day with the group Havlock began thinking of as his senior Council. With the approval of Captain Rivard, they spent some of those hours in the net on one of the fighters. Not only did they get to know each other better, they met each other’s Riders. Atiana’s Rider, Stren, appeared as a deep blue dragon—not a great dragon like Stven, just a person-sized dragon. Galborae’s Rider, Hormuth, appeared as a robed teacher, and to Galborae that’s exactly what he was—the companion who would help him reach levels of knowledge he’d never imagined.

  Havlock’s Rider, Jack, a direct offspring of Jake, resembled a younger version of Mike. Dark and a bit stern at times, he nevertheless reached out to all of them and in some intangible way managed to wrap all of them within his arms. Havlock and the rest of them understood that though he had been the Rider of a man from an emerging world, they had a lot to learn from him.

  All the Riders never failed to remind them that Riders rode, they did not control, ever.

  * * * * *

  During the final day of the voyage, they were all in the net when Havlock suddenly dropped out of the net. Atiana was the first to sense his absence and left the net. She found him sitting in a pilot seat with a blank look in his eyes and his helmet resting on the deck.

  She went to his side in alarm. The moment she touched him, his eyes came back into focus.

  “Oh . . . hi!” he said.

  “Oh, hi? That’s all you have to say? What happened?”

  He looked away, his eyes roving the bridge, then he brought his focus back to her. “I . . . think I just had a vision,” he said softly.

  Her eyes narrowed. “You know I don’t hold much stock in those things.”

  “I know,” he said, reaching out a hand to caress her face. “I might not either if I was in your shoes.”

  The rest of the group joined them, and Havlock was forced to tell what had happened. He would rather have done so privately with Galborae, but this tight group would never put up with secrets.

  His gaze settled on Galborae. “Sorry, my friend. You keep popping up as a major player in someone’s game. I did not drop out of the net on purpose. I was pulled out. I had a vision, and it was very clear.”

  “Some game,” Galborae said. “What is it this time?”

  “I had a vision of you. You and Limam were standing at the foot of a ramp staring up into a shuttle. You held a blaster in your left hand and the sword in your right, though it was not activated.”

  Galborae stared at him for a time, actually less troubled than Havlock expected. “What makes you think it was a vision? I have done that many, many times.”

  Havlock shook his head. “I just know.”

  “Where was I? I mean, where was the shuttle?” Galborae asked.

  “I have no idea. All I saw was the ramp and the insides of the shuttle, but you must have been fighting if you’d drawn your sword.”

  “Were there any words?” Atiana asked, clearly troubled by the whole business of more visions.

  “Yes. I didn’t see them or hear them, I just knew them. The words were

  ‘Wonder no more.’”

  Galborae’s mouth gaped open. He stared at Havlock, then turned away and started pacing.

  Havlock watched him for a while, then said, “I’m sorry, my friend. We all wonder about things, so the words are probably not much help. We need Sir Tarn.”

  Galborae stopped his pacing and turned back to Havlock. “Actually, they are helpful. I think they mean this vision stuff is almost over.” He shifted his gaze to each of them while he contemplated, then he clarified what he meant.

  “I’ve wondered at the marvels of your Empire since the moment I woke up
aboard Lady Krys’ ship, but lately I’ve been doing some deeper questioning. Hormuth, my Rider, is descended from Otis’ Rider. He’s been telling me about the Leaf People and helping me understand our place in the galaxy. I’m just starting to get a feel for the size of everything, and I have questions.”

  “I can’t promise answers, but feel free to ask away,” Havlock said.

  “Okay,” Galborae said. “I’m going to fail at this, it’s really too big for me to get my hands around, but hear me out. These Leaf People deal with big issues, cosmic issues, not little ones. So I’ve been wondering . . . why Tranxte? We’re a pebble on the beach compared to the rest of the galaxy. Sure, what the rebels did to us is beyond forgivable, and the Empire’s helping us is the right thing to do, but the Leaf People? As bad as the gleasons are, they’re not a galaxy-threatening issue like the Chessori and the rebellion. Despite that, the Leaf People guided Lady Krys to us, she basically resurrected me from the dead, and they’ve sent us three . . . no, you’re telling me it’s four visions now. I’m the least important of everyone here, yet I’ve been the recipient of two visions and mentioned in a third. I have a one-of-a-kind sword that’s never, to the best of my knowledge, been reproduced, and now it’s mentioned in a vision. You’re the Sky Lord. In the eyes of the Leaf People you’re probably not all that important either, yet they’ve turned you into a Seer of all things, possibly the rarest thing in the galaxy. And now we’ve all been given Riders.”

  He stared at Havlock, then his gaze shifted to each of them. “Don’t you wonder . . . why?”

  Silence followed his words. Havlock stood up and went to him. “You think this means that wherever the visions are taking us, we’re almost there?”

  Galborae brought a hand to his beard and scratched. His eyes rose to the ceiling, but only for a moment. “We’re not there yet, but I think we’re getting close. Think about it—the rest of the marines are finally on their way, and we have a plan for Tranxte. We’ll either kill all the gleasons or else find a new home for them. We can see the end even if the details are not clear.”

  He stared deeply into Havlock’s eyes. “This vision isn’t just for me, it’s for all of us. The message I’m hearing from the Leaf People is that whatever their purpose is, we have not yet fulfilled it.”

  More silence. Milae broke it, asking, “Will we know when we have?”

  He looked kindly to his wife of many years. “I think the day is coming when we will ‘wonder no more.’”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  The ensuing year challenged Havlock and his people, but it challenged the locals even more. Most major kingdoms had at least been contacted by the end of that year, and gleason hunts were underway on every continent, though many, many smaller kingdoms had not yet been reached. Major food distribution kept a swarm of supply ships busy. Starving locals needed little help figuring out how to deal with the packaging and preparation of military rations, some of which fell mysteriously from the sky at night.

  The largest civilization on the planet occupied a peninsula, one end bordered by several smaller kingdoms but most of the peninsula surrounded by ocean. Contacting that civilization was high on Havlock’s list, but he delayed when intelligence suggested a leadership that wielded power with an iron fist, a leadership that claimed divine heritage and ruled by decree.

  Finally, he could wait no more. While Atiana, Kori, Milae, and Stymes dealt with the rest of the planet, Havlock, Galborae, Hawke, and Lieutenant Crowles, a junior officer in training with Hawke to be another Teacher, explored several cities within the civilization. Dressed as civilians, they pretended to be outsiders since they did not speak the local language. Though they could not speak, they understood through their translator devices and in some cases overheard discussions they might not otherwise have been privy to.

  Famine had hit hard, and so had disease. Havlock had the resources to deal with those issues, but he hesitated to do so without approval from the ruler. The closer his group moved to the capital city, the harsher conditions became, and not just from famine and disease. Every major city held public executions on a daily basis, most of them a consequence of food theft.

  In every meeting with new rulers, Havlock attempted to reinforce the local ruler’s power, but in this particular case, spaceships showing themselves over the city would undermine the claim of divine heritage. He had to find another way.

  Several attempts to gain audience with the emperor went unrewarded. Havlock withdrew his team from the city and held a meeting aboard the transporter.

  “You’re going to have to force your way in,” Galborae said.

  “What, fight our way through the city and through the gates of the palace?”

  “No, I’m thinking about just appearing in his bedroom during the night.”

  Havlock glanced at him, then around the room at his marines. He saw narrowed eyes, but before long he saw twitching lips as well. A new and interesting challenge for these men who had endured so much on the caravans.

  “So we get dropped off on the roof after dark,” Havlock mused.

  “Exactly, but not before stunning everyone in the palace and its immediate surroundings.”

  Havlock looked hard at him. “Not exactly the friendliest entrance.”

  “But friendlier than fighting our way in. The stunners’ effects will wear off everyone—the emperor, the guards, and the staff—at approximately the same time. We have to secure the emperor before then.”

  * * * * *

  Two shuttles hovered over the palace after nightfall. This was no castle, it was a three-level, H-shaped building, more like an office building, though in reality it was an immense private home. The shuttles’ stunners fired on a wide angle, putting everyone inside the building and on the grounds to sleep. Then one shuttle stopped just above the rooftop and disgorged a full squad of marines.

  Galborae led, though in truth he had only a vague idea where the emperor’s quarters were located. He led them down one level through a dark, narrow stairwell, then the stairwell changed to a wide stairway that opened onto great, ornate halls lined with floor-to-ceiling tapestries and paintings two levels farther down. They placed restraints on every sleeping guard they passed. They hurried past sitting areas strewn with gilded tables, chairs, and rugs to another wide staircase leading to the first floor. There, Galborae led them into the right hand wing of the H-shaped palace. Six guards sprawled before tall, hand-carved, double doors, a clue that they had found the emperor.

  Galborae motioned a marine forward to open the door. The door swung surprisingly easily, and the squad deployed into a sumptuous living area with more guards sprawled unconscious around the bases of the walls.

  Here, not only tapestries and paintings adorned twenty-foot high walls, enormous hand-woven rugs, gaudy furniture and tables, and valuable works of art sprinkled the room. Havlock split the squad up to search other rooms. Before long, his comm unit squawked. His men had found the emperor.

  He and Galborae entered a great room with a canopied, four-poster bed centered on the far wall. On that bed, a bald, corpulent man slept between two young women.

  The emperor’s guards were the first to recover from stunning. Havlock had them stunned again—the emperor would not need unnecessary distractions. When the two young women awoke, he sent them away. Havlock placed a translator device on the emperor’s ear and nudged him awake, to no avail.

  The man was clearly in a deep sleep. Further nudging eventually brought him around, and Galborae moved into his line of sight. The emperor’s eyes widened, then widened further when he took in the six strange men standing around his bed, all of them dressed in battle armor that hurt his eyes. His brow furrowed as his eyes tried to focus on the uniforms, but he finally gave up.

  Galborae took another step forward and bowed, saying, “Your Highness, we come in peace.”

  The man glared at him through porcine eyes. “Where are my guards?”

  “Sleeping. None have been injured, nor have they
been negligent. We have special weapons that made everyone sleep, including you.”

  The emperor sat up straight, still glaring. “I’ve heard rumors of men such as yourself. Why have you taken so long to come?”

  “Because things change when we appear. We make every attempt to limit that change, and we always strive to work through leaders such as yourself, but things change. We’re not sure you’re ready for change, but it’s time to find out. Your people are desperate.”

  “People are always desperate. It’s their place.”

  “That choice is yours. We come only to fight the demons. In the process, we bring food and healing to ease their suffering.”

  “I don’t need or want your help.”

  “We are prepared to help in ways that will reinforce your authority.”

  “My authority needs no reinforcement. Go away.”

  “We won’t go away until the demons are dead. We ask for help from your armies, but we will fight the demons on our own if necessary.”

  “Why should I care about the demons? I’m protected here.”

  “Are you?” Galborae asked. “The demons cannot be seen. They’ll find you eventually.”

  “They can’t hurt me. I’m immortal.”

  The corner of Galborae’s eye ticked upward. “So we heard. Your people do not share that immortality. We ask your permission to help them. Our efforts will be in your name.”

  “No. I’ll accept the strange weapons I’ve heard about, but leave the fighting to me.”

  “We cannot. Your men need training, and it’s important our weapons do not fall into the hands of demons.”

  “Then leave. We’re already winning this war against the demons. Before long my traders will once again travel safely from one side of my lands to the other. I have so decreed.”

  Havlock stepped forward. “The demons do not hear your decree.”

  “Who are you?”

  Galborae answered for him. “He is the Sky Lord, Your Highness.”