by David Winnie
Admiral Thiessen settled into his command chair, ready for battle. As the fleet came out of otherspace, they began to launch fighters, part of the ruse to keep the enemy commander’s attention. The holo above the command platform showed the enemy fleet positioning and launching its own fighters.
“Sir, signal coming from the Imperial Guard lead ship.” The comm officer looked barely out of his teens. Thiessen shook his head. They were so young these days.
The holo reformed, showing an ancient officer, sporting a bushy white beard and matching eyebrows. His white uniform jacket was festooned with medals and a purple sash. “I am General Thomas Bramble,” he said with bravado. “I am the commanding the defense of the Argulea system. What traitorous scum am I speaking with?”
“I am Admiral Thor Thiessen neKhan, Warlord for Her Royal Highness Crown Princess Annika Raudona Russolov Khan, Goddess/Queen of Terra and soon Empress of the Terran Empire. I will warn you once, Bramble. Stand down and I will spare your lives, though you will be punished for threatening the Khan. Resist and I promise those of you who die today will be shown greater mercy than those I kill tomorrow.”
“That’s GENERAL Bramble, young whelp!” he shouted, shaking a fist. “Resist? Damn right, we’re going to resist! The Regent is the rightful heir to the Imperial Throne, not that tit sucking kitten of a Princess of yours!”
Thiessen steepled his fingers. “Tell me Bramble,” he said evenly, “how much fleet experience do you have?”
“I was chosen for my leadership,” the old man thundered. “I was leading troops into battle when you were still having your arse wiped, you insol…”
“None, then,” the Admiral interrupted. “Then, Bumble, I suggest you prepare to die.” Thiessen thumbed his comm unit and issued a single word order.
“KILL!”
The bombers left their hiding spots around the sun. The first wave destroyed the two command posts and all five manned stations in minutes. The second wave pressed their attack on the Imperial Guard fleet, firing their missiles from behind. The enemy disappeared in a massive fireball. When it subsided, all that was left was an ever-widening field of debris. Buccaneers swept through the system hunting down and destroying any Imperial Guard ships that had escaped the carnage.
Argulea lay defenseless from space. The Regent’s “fleet” had been devastated: there were no survivors to be found. The only injury to Thiessen’s forces was a cracked knuckle on Colonels Morando’s right hand, where he had gleefully punched his canopy frame when it was clear how successful the trap had been.
Imperial Guard Sergeant Patroine Harvin tried to make himself smaller in his fighting hole. Headquarters had announced the Khan’s fleet’s arrival. They all eagerly awaited the news that their courage and bravery had driven the fleet away. But there had been no news.
The bombardment started, around the palace. Funny, they weren’t shooting up the city, as he would have expected. Everything was directed against their positions around the palace. Patroine had been in combat a long time ago, during the disastrous reign of Emperor Kim Choi Khan. He had his share of free-falling from drop ships onto a hostile world. He had never been under an assault drop.
Until today. He could see the fiery trails as they twisted and arced across the sky. Each fireball carried fifty-five troopers. Several hundred fell in the space of a few minutes. Then came the god-awful BOOM-BOOM as each shuttle passed through transonic speeds. He needed to piss. No privy or spider can, either. He was either going to hold it or… He felt instantly better.
“Here they come!” the call came over his helmet comm. He looked over the edge of his fighting hole. Someone was firing smoke. Patroine dropped the infrared lens. Better, he could see movement now. “Hold your fire,” he whispered to his squad. Most were middle-aged men and boys rallied to the cause of the Regent. He wasn’t feeling so sure about the Regent now. Sure, it had been fun to run about and pretend to shoot up Imperial troops. But now that the time was here…He began to wish he had thought this through a little more.
He heard a soft whirring noise. Cautiously he looked up. Crap! A hummerbee! Drones built to hover over a position, looking for signs of movement. It relayed a signal back to the squad controlling it. When movement was detected, it would fire a hundred flechettes into the position. “Nobody move,” he hissed into his comm. The whining noise of the drone picked up slightly. “Stop! Stop moving!” he cried, “It picked you up.” There was a pop, then screaming. Mercifully, it didn’t last long.
More whining, a flock of the hummerbees appeared overhead. Where there was one fighting position, there would be more. He knew the guys would be squirming as the hunters searched for them. “Nobody move!” he pleaded. “They will find and kill you. Relax, when they leave the Imps will follow.” There was a pop and a scream, then another. His squad was beginning to panic.
Patroine found himself praying to the gods. There were more important things in life than money and politics. If he had listened to his wife, he’d be at home and safe. Instead, he’d tried to relive old glories from when he was a younger man. He was going to die. Today in this piss filled hole.
He heard another noise. Cautiously, he looked up. The Imperial soldier was in front of him. Patroine hadn’t seen or heard him coming. His armor was the modern chameleon suit, shifting colors and patterns to match his surrounds. Golden sensors were located on the helmet where his eyes would be. He looked more like an insect than a Terran and his weapon was pointed straight at Patroine’s face. “Buh-bye, glarpshite!” he heard. The weapon flashed and Patroine Harvin, Sergeant of the Regent’s Imperial Guard, was dead.
The palace was taken after a short, intense fight. General Kelly had fooled everyone. As the bombardment started, his loyal officers who had appeared to support the Regent released the General. Inside the defensive perimeter, Imperial Guards suddenly found army units they thought were loyal turning against the Guard. The loyal troops followed the orders of their Khan.
There were no prisoners.
General Kelly escorted Thiessen through the halls of the palace. It was every bit as decadent as he expected. He suspected he would need a bath after walking through this cesspool of opulent depravity.
Ming si Haun was discovered hiding in one of his own dank cells. The soldiers decided to leave the former ruler in the cell. He cowered on the cot, perspiration soaking the armpits of his brilliant white uniform, as Thiessen approached. “You!” he bawled. “You have brought this down on me! Why couldn’t you just go off and play with your pretty ships and leave me alone! I didn’t do anything to you! Why are you always picking on me?”
“I swore an oath, Brother.” It galled Thiessen to have to call this wasted pile of flesh brother. “An oath to the Empire and to the Khan. I have dedicated my life to the Empire while you whined and sold yourself to your wealthy friends. No more. I am here to take you to the Khan.”
“No!” Ming si whimpered, curling into a ball.
Chapter 29
Lord Klerrks Revenge slid majestically on his flight path and settled next to the Azahnti. Annika stood on the bridge, hands on hips, admiring the magnificent vessel. She was home. And Yuri was down there waiting for her.
Duty first. A shuttle was waiting to carry her and Rita down to Giza. There she would assume her duties as Head of State. There were a myriad of details to attend to, securing the Empire, warning enemies off.
Revenge to be planned.
The vid Rory Grant had transmitted from Celtius left no doubt as to the perpetrators. The Bougartd were a humanoid race. Adults were over seven feet tall and heavily muscled. Their skin ranged from charcoal grey to black. Their lower mandibles housed yellow teeth several inches long. A brutal race, they preferred to bully and steal from the lesser races. Two thousand years ago, they were given permission by the Galactic Council to commit unrestricted warfare on Terra. The Bougartd didn’t have a massive fleet, but they had hundreds of heavily armed raiders that wreaked havoc on the Empire, especially the frontie
r worlds. Emperor Kim Choi Khan begged the Galactic Council to stop the attacks. Emperor Robert De L’Orange threatened war if the raids didn’t stop. As the Terran fleet grew, the raids lessened. Still, from time to time, the Bougartd would try a new tactic or weapon.
The vid showed a Bougartd raider dropping the phage weapon.
Annika vowed to put an end to the Bougartd.
The shuttle ride was quiet. Excited to be going to the fabled Giza Palace, Rita left Annika to her thoughts. Colonel Campion called her on the comm to check on the Khan’s status and insinuated he might transfer her, keeping the job of personal guard of Annika himself. Rita was mortified. Not only did she take great pride in protecting the Khan, Mouse had become her best friend. She couldn’t imagine not having Annika around. Rita caught the sly grin on her boss’s face.
“Respectfully, Sir,” Rita said in her most formal voice. “If you EVER try that kind of glarpshite on me again, you discover what taking a full clip from my rifle up your ass feels like!”
“You’re late!” came the familiar greeting from Miss Norris as Annika rushed past. It was so good to be home, back amongst familiar people and surroundings.
“Tea, Miss Norris. I’ll have several guests today,” she called as she entered her office. Rita was stumped by the exchange; she would have thought Annika would have a more respectful staff in the palace.
Within minutes, Thor Thiessen and Gavin Howland arrived. Annika was seated behind her desk, not wasting any time getting to work. “Gentlemen,” she greeted them, “what are the status of the trials?”
“They have begun, my Khan,” reported Howland. “Minor officers and notable civilians to start. I expect to start the Regent’s hearing within the week. I will have the recommended sentencing tomorrow morning.”
“They are approved,” she answered. “I will accede to the recommendations of my judges. Have number one and two been arrested yet?”
“Kermit Blount has been taken to the Intelligence Office at the order of your brother,” Howland answered. “I can request he be transferred to our custody, if you wish.”
Annika shook her head slightly. “No,” she decided, “he is one of theirs. They will deal with him. What of number one?”
“Confined here in Giza,” Thiessen stated. “Trying him could be problematic. He still wields considerable power and is nearly as popular as you.”
Annika thought for a few minutes. “Leave him to me,” she stated. “I will take care of it this afternoon.”
Morris Stype sat on her couch as he had so many times before, looking kindly. Annika wished she could return to the time when she trusted this man. But the evidence proved otherwise. He was her enemy. He would die.
“I should suppose you would like an explanation,” he said. “You deserve as much.”
“I deserved your loyalty,” she hissed. “What was it that turned your back against the Empire you’ve served for seventy years?”
“You have my loyalty, Majesty,” he said smoothly, “but I have done what I have done for the good of the Empire. Your father would have taken us to war. Millions would have died. Now, you want to take us to war. Don’t you see there is a better way? Given the chance, I could have ended all this hostility in our part of the galaxy. We would have peace, rather than this endless cycle of war.”
“At the cost of our lives!” the Khan screamed. “Our freedoms, the order we enjoy that comes from the Laws my ancestor laid down. You wouldn’t have given us peace! We would have fought each other to the death and allowed the lesser species steal from us what is ours!”
“So, you will go to war and steal what is theirs!” he shouted back.
“It is my birthright,” was Annika’s tight-lipped reply. “It is the duty Angkor Khan left for me. All that I do is for the good of my Empire and my people.”
“Savior!” she snarled. “I see you for what you are. Weak. Inferior. You have made war against me, attempted to murder me. Lied to me. You deserve public humiliation and a painful death.
“But taking you to trial would be problematic. Instead, my bodyguard, Rita will escort you to a private room. She will leave you inside with a gun. One bullet.
“You will be taken down to the compost and buried there. It will be a fitting end for your transgressions. Be gone from my sight.”
Morris Stype, number one, stood. “Might I use your personal weapon, Majesty?” He asked.
Annika removed her sidearm, ratcheted it several times until there was a single bullet in it. She handed it to Rita, who took Morris by the arm and dragged him out.
Annika sighed, for Miss Norris entered with another basket of paperwork.
Yuri waited in their apartment. Rita opened the door for her and there he was. “Yuri!” Annika cried, flinging herself into his arms. The palace could have exploded, the universe collapsed into a massive black hole and still Yuri and Annika would have stood there, her legs wrapped around his waist, his hands holding her ass.
“How is it every time I see you, you become even more beautiful?” marveled Yuri. “I tell myself it can’t be possible, then there you are.”
Annika grabbed the door and started to close it. She popped her head out and grinned at Rita. “If you hear screaming…Yeah, well, you know... Uh…yeah, see ya!” The door slammed shut and Rita heard the lock activate.
They were undressed before they got to the bedroom. The three months they had been apart wasn’t the longest they had been separated. But the civil war and the Tyrus Phage drove them together as never before. Their lovemaking was frantic, as though it were to be the last time.
Afterwards, they lay tangled in the sheets. Yuri pressed his ear to Annika’s stomach and whispered, “Do you hear me, Baby? I am your Papa. You are the child of the most beautiful woman in the universe, although you can only see her insides right now.”
Annika tittered, “He can’t hear you, silly! He’s barely two months old.”
Yuri shook his head and tilted his head with his nose in the air. “You forget who is older, wiser and smarter, my love. And who is the medical doctor here? Hmmmm?” Yuri kissed and spoke to her baby bump. “Baby, Papa knows you can hear him. You let your mama know, too.”
Tears formed at the corners of Annika’s eyes. She rolled on her side and Yuri cuddled with his wife. Their hands went to her belly. So, this is love, she thought as they drifted off to sleep: This is my family.
Annika wished she could be present for the trial of the Regent. Gavin Howland warned her away. “Your presence would be intimidating to the trial board,” he explained. “We know he is guilty. The board will deliver us a conviction. We must maintain the correct image of the trials. The public won’t stand for it if you appear to be influencing the process. Patience, my Khan. He will be delivered to you in good time.”
She commandeered a small holo emitter for her office, and she and Rita watched the proceedings until Miss Norris brought more paperwork or announced some visitor. The efficient secretary would snap the holo off and Annika would go back to work, grousing under her breath.
She fretted about her appearance. She would study her growing belly in the mirror, turning side to side, rubbing her hands over the growing bump. “Yuri, am I fat?” she would ask. “I think I am looking fat.” Yuri tried to avoid the question, but she would pester him.
“No, you are not fat,” he would tell her. “I see our child growing inside you. Doctor Bond assures me our child is growing normally and is healthy.”
Hmmmm…” she would answer. “Yes, that is what he told me. But I still think I am looking fat.”
The trial ended. Annika hadn’t been called as a witness, to her disappointment. She was dutifully working her way through the morning basket of reports when Gavin Howland burst unannounced into her office. He was wearing a large smile.
“Highness,” he reported, “guilty, on all counts.”
Annika whooped and leapt from her chair. She danced around her desk, grabbed Howland and whirled in circles, laughing.
Annika changed into the black and green uniform, her Captain’s bars muted on her collar, tiny gold wings on her left breast. She checked her appearance. Dohlman had done it cleverly again; her baby bump was hardly noticeable.
At precisely one o’clock, Rita opened the door for Annika. She strode quickly across her Throne Room, courtiers and officers bowing, curtseying or saluting as she passed. She settled into her throne with majestic grace. “Bring him,” she ordered.
A door crashed open; two guards dragged the struggling Regent Ming si Haun across the hall, standing him before the Khan. He was still wearing his sparkling white uniform with the gold trim and braid. The collar was torn and missing; she assumed the guards had removed his undeserved rank. Gone, too, was his purple sash and elaborate display of equally undeserved medals. His eyes were wet with tears; even now his lower lips quivered and drooled at his niece’s countenance.
“Uncle, what am I to do with you?” she asked. “My War Council has confirmed what I have known since I was five years old. You are worthless and weak, an inferior sitting on my throne.
“And you would try and make war with me! Oh, Uncle, how many of my loyal subjects fell victim to the belief of your wicked, wicked lies? Can you make restitution for them? No?
“And this,” she slid her knife from its sheath. “Do you recognize this? It’s the knife of the foul assassin you sent after me years ago.
