by Aline Ash
Yes. Yes, the three of us are going to be okay. I promise, little unborn baby. You will have a mother and a father. Three of us are going to be okay. We’re going to be... okay... We’re going to...
Chapter 24
S’oraj
Our ship tears through open space as I clench my teeth against the physical and emotional anguish of being separated from B’ecky once again. The pain is extremely real – more palpable than I ever gave V’orin or X’oran credit for – and it’s nearly unbearable. After a while, it somehow subsides and dulls itself. I’m not sure how or why, but all I can do is hope that it means that the healers have soothed B’ecky in one way or another and her sense of calm is extending to be a balm on the ache of the distance between us.
I have to focus. I have to win this. Not only for my people – for my planet – but for my queen and our unborn young one. Failure is no longer an option. I either win, or I die trying.
It doesn’t take long before our scanners begin to pick up signals of both fleets. I sidle up beside L’efyen once more and ask him what he’s seeing.
“It’s hard to tell from this distance, krit. The Raxian fleet is pumping out some sort of radiation that’s mucking up the sensors. I can’t get a clear reading on their number, or even our own.”
“Then we’re just going to have to take a closer look, aren’t we? Get us there as fast as you can.
“But krit, our fuel —”
“Is irrelevant if we’re dead or if Orean is destroyed. Just get us there, Captain.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” I don’t mean to bite his head off, but there’s no time for tempered restraint. Make no mistake about it; this is war. And whatever happens next may very well determine the fate of millions.
As we get closer to our own mid- and low-orbit lines, the two forces come into view. We don’t even need the scanners anymore; now I can just see what’s in front of us.
“Sons of Oraj,” L’efyen breathes. The others gather at the doorway between the main hold and the flight deck and take turns gaping at the sight before us. I can’t blame them for feeling awe-stricken; I’ve seen battle before, but not to this scale.
The Orean fleet, mobilized by V’orin and X’oran, has set up a defensive perimeter in front of the low-orbit station. A handful of flagships and battle cruisers have lined up side by side with carriers steadily deploying fighters a few at a time. No reason to tip our entire hand yet. All told, our ships must number at least several hundred.
Unfortunately, it won’t be near enough.
Not only has Kerx scrambled a dozen warships, but his carriers outnumber ours two-to-one. I have no idea where he got this quantity of ships or where he’s been hiding them, but it doesn’t matter now. They’re on our doorstep and we either destroy them, push them back, or everything I’ve fought for since I took the throne has been for naught. And even as those thoughts crowd their way through my mind, the next stage of this escalation presents itself and harrows me to my bones.
The lower half of Kerx primary flagship – his personal vessel; a warship of unsurpassed size and might – seems to open like a set of metal jaws. From within, a machine fully half the size of the ship itself emerges. Bit by bit, this weapon we have all feared for wans reveals itself and proves to be as terrifying to gaze upon as it has been to investigate.
The plating makes it appear smooth and sleek, but the venting along the sides allows glimpses to the inner workings. It’s a canon of unparalleled size and potency and, if it is allowed to fire, there will be nothing we can do to stop it.
“What in the name of Oraj are they doing?” L’efyen asks to no one in particular. I watch as two of the adjacent flagships move into positions flanking Kerx’s and seem to attach themselves – nearly docking if they could.
“Sweet grace... They’re bracing his ship.”
“What’s that, krit?”
“The other ships,” I gasp. “The canon is too powerful for even Kerx’s flagship to fire it alone. The other ships will have to fire their forward thrusters along with him in order to stabilize it enough to hold its firing solution. Otherwise his entire ship will be thrown backward, and they’ll lose all sense of accuracy.”
“It can’t be that powerful.”
“I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong.” I collect my thoughts as quickly as I can and fire off my orders. “Captain, hail our entire force. Fleetwide channel. Now! Everyone else, strap in. This is going to be a bumpy ride.”
“Ready, krit.”
I grab the coms box from him and speak into it. If there’s ever been a time to rouse the spirit of my forces, this is it. “Soldiers of Orean, this is King S’oraj. The enemy we face is mighty. Their resolve is unbreakable. But their purpose... Their purpose is more diabolical than we could have ever imagined.
“It is worse than we could have imagined because we would never – could never – stoop to such selfish lows as this. King Kerx cares only for his own power and prestige. His warriors care only for themselves. While that makes them strong, and it makes them dangerous, it also makes them vulnerable.
“My friends, this is the time to show the galaxy what we Oreans are made of. We will fight for those who cannot fight for themselves. We will defend the defenseless. We will protect the unprotectable. And, if necessary, we will give our lives to defeat this evil that presents itself before us!
“Know this: when future generations speak of this day, they will speak of the Orean fleet. Whether Raxian, Orean... or Palian... The galaxy will know of our exploits today and for ages hence they will speak of our might, our valor, and our triumph!
“All Commanders, weapons free. Engage all at once! Fight! Fight for those you love! Fight for those who need you! Fight for Orean... And for all!”
The krens behind me are silent as I replace the coms box, and in that silence, I turn to L’efyen. The young captain’s face is set like stone, a perfect facsimile of the proud warrior. He turns to me and smiles slightly, the smallest chuckle of satisfaction escaping his nose.
“Well, Your Majesty... What are your orders?”
I look back to those in the hold. Their faces, too, are those of krens hungry to prove their worth. And who am I to disappoint them?
“All ahead full, Captain. Get us in there.”
A roar rises behind me as my soldiers strap themselves in and double check their weapons. Our ship won’t be much use as a fighter, small and stealthy as it is. Its weapons aren’t powerful enough to do any damage to those flagships and we’re not maneuverable enough to go head-to-head with a Raxian fighter. But what we can do is board. No one will see us coming and, if it comes down to it and the only way to stop that weapon is to get onto the ship itself and do what we can from the inside, then we had no other choice.
If this is where I die, protecting my planet and everyone on it, then so be it.
Yet even as my krens preemptively celebrate their forthcoming feats of valor, the tide turns in an instant.
Our fleet creeps forward in the distance, fighters belching forth from carriers on both sides of the battle line and charging ahead with their canons already firing, but from the midst of the conflagration, a wicked green light begins to glow, and in a gut-wrenching moment, I know that this fight is over before it can even begin.
“No...” The weapon on the underbelly of Kerx’s ship glows brighter and brighter, and simultaneously, the primary thrusters of all three conjoined flagships blaze demonically. The three ships creep forward together and all I can do is watch in horror.
I grab the coms box once more and scream into it. “The canon! All fighters, target the canon!” But even those who can get close to it are either vaporized by the backwash of energy coming off of it, or their weapons do so little damage that it would have been just as effective for them to just leave it alone.
“Your Majesty!” X’oran’s voice crackles over the coms. “The enemy is preparing to fire, krit, what do we do?”
How did it all go wrong? How did this h
appen so quickly? Only moments before it seemed as if we had a fighting chance. It appeared as though the righteousness of our efforts would somehow carry the day. Was I stupid to think so? Naïve?
“Krit?” X’oran screams for orders once more. I have to answer him. I have to tell him what to do. But what do I tell him? How can I possibly order him into any action that won’t mean the death and destruction of the world I was sworn to protect?
“Make a hole, Commander,” I manage to say. “Get out of its blasted way! Turn! Turn!” But even as I scream into the coms box and our warships begin to haul their bulks laterally, I know it’s too late. If only we’d found some defense. If only we’d come up with some countermeasure. If only this, that, or the other, but none of it matters anymore because how can we fight back against something like—
“Krit!” L’efyen snaps me out of my paralysis and points to the canon. The green hue of the plasma charge has begun to shift. A redness creeps in from the base of the canon forward, and something seems to happen to the ball light at the tip of the barrel that I can’t describe. It’s almost as if the energy that has been collecting and preparing to fire at Orean is... It can’t be.
“Fall back, all! I repeat, fall back, all! All fighters back to their carriers. Now!”
Our fighters turn on their tails and run, and all I can do is pray to Oraj that I’m right. An eternity seems to pass as the ever enlarging points of light that I know are our fighters dart back toward our fleet, and I watch as that ball light becomes an ever more furious shade of crimson, dancing here and there, sparking back toward the canon that produced it. Please. Please let me be right about this.
The entire galaxy seems to fall silent as every eye in two planetary fleets watch that point of light when, all at once, in the blink of an eye, it vanishes in a flash of white, silent in the vacuum of space. Moments later, a shockwave arcs out from it, so powerful even our ship this far away is buffeted and rocked. As the light subsides and fades, I’m able to blink my vision back to normal and take in the most glorious sight I have ever beheld.
“It’s gone, krit,” L’efyen gasps. “The entire ship is gone!”
Where Kerx’s flagship once was, with his horrid canon dangling off the bottom like a cruel appendage, there is nothing but a smoldering carcass. Beside it, the two supporting warships tumble and roll away, each in several pieces, all smoldering and flashing in subsequent explosions as they go. And not only them... half of the Raxian fleet seems to have been wiped out in the blast as well. Carriers, fighters, battle cruisers, the whole lot of them. Only those on the far left and right flanks, the farthest from the blast, survived. I’m utterly stunned, my jaw dangling open, until X’oran’s voice croaks through the speakers.
“S’oraj! Your Majesty! I... What are your orders, krit?”
I breathily laugh as, little by little, my senses return to me. A smile breaks out across my face and I can’t help but let it all out. I howl with relief and joy and victory, snatch up the coms box, and give my commands. “Mop em up, Commander!”
I can almost feel the elation on X’oran’s face from across this void of space as he sends out his troops to clean up the remaining Raxian force. But I’m brought back to the present by V’orin’s voice over the coms.
“Krit... How is this even possible?”
I chuckle a little, but with a melancholy realization at the answer. “Sabotage, Commander,” I say. “Sabotage of the finest order. Fiari must have been able to input the code after all. But with the size of that blast, even he – who managed to escape your suicidal attack on their battle cluster all those wans ago – couldn’t have made it out of there alive.
“Captain L’efyen, make a note. Prince Fiari of Rax is to be honored by all Oreans for his bravery and sacrifice this day. I only wish he were here to receive the honor.”
“If you want, S’oraj, I can come back later if it’s more convenient.”
“Fiari? Is that you? It can’t be!”
“Check your six, Your Majesty.”
And in the same instant, a small stealth fighter grazes over the canopy of our own ship and then falls in beside us over our portside wing. “Fiari, you sneaky b’ustat!”
“I guess it’s a good thing I am!”
“I suppose you’re right.” We continue toward the Orean line and the clean-up that’s still underway when L’efyen ventures a question.
“Krit... With the weapon destroyed and Kerx dead... What does this mean?”
I take a long breath in. It’s a bigger question than the young captain probably realizes. For so many tens of cycles Kerx has plagued Orean and the galaxy with his greed and malevolence. This weapon of his was his final move, his finishing blow. But now, as L’efyen asked so simply and perfectly, what does it all mean?
My mind settles as I exhale and answer him, and the entire fleet over the coms, at once. “Soldiers of Orean. Today will long be remembered. For cycles, we have fought the Raxians. But today King Kerx is dead. With him, his superweapon that had so nearly threatened the lives of every Orean kren, shanin, and young one. But today, thanks to the heroism and bravery of so many, and the cunning of our ally behind enemy lines, we now know victory.
“My friends... Today... The war ends.”
Chapter 25
Becky
Somehow, even in the heat of the moment, S’oraj had managed to have the forethought to hit record on his coms device and, once all was said and done, send me a video capture of the victory. I listen intently as his speech rouses his men, and I can see the admiration and respect they have for their king before diving headlong into battle. Moments later, I can’t help but cheer out loud and throw my fist in the air as I watch the Raxian flagships explode.
“Please try to remain calm, Your Majesty,” T’maku urges me.
“Sorry! Sorry... I’m just... excited.”
“I understand, Your Majesty, but please try to keep your excitement contained. I know it’s difficult, but for the sake of your health, and the health of your young one, it’s imperative.”
“Gotcha. Sorry. I’ll do my best.”
I re-watch the sequence again and savor S’oraj’s victory speech and Fiari’s miraculous entrance at the end before closing the little window that somehow projects itself over my own vision. I take a long breath and try to settle back down, but as I do, my mind floods with next steps.
The war is over... It’s the moment I’ve been — we’ve all been — waiting for. It means we can go home. But now there’s so much more at stake than just my mother’s health.
For all these months that I’ve been trapped on and around Orean or Mon Alto, my only goal has been getting back to Earth. All I’ve wanted all along has been to get back to my mom and sister and get back to taking care of them. The burden I just left my sister with for all this time... And what this absence must be doing to my mom’s state of mind...
It’s all that’s mattered for all these months, but just in the last day so much has changed.
It was never Earth itself that I longed for. It was always my family. But now... Now I have a second family I have to think about. This baby, so the healers tell me, is going to be just fine now that they’ve stabilized us. It’s great news, but it also means that I have to think about the little life growing inside of me and I have to consider its needs as well as my own.
And then of course there’s S’oraj.
I tried with everything I had to keep my heart closed off to him, but his persistence and this damn ‘Fated Mates’ bullshit have done their jobs. I’m hooked, and there’s no point in denying it. I love him. I truly do. And I want to stay with him.
And besides my own desire, I’d be the fucking queen. Of a planet! How am I supposed to just walk away from the love of my life, my child, and that kind of an opportunity? No business degree on Earth would ever put me anywhere even close to landing a chance like this.
But even as I think it through, the tightening in my chest makes itself more and more pronounced,
and I know what the answer has to be. I’ve always been able to rely on my gut instincts and this won’t be any different. When the gut knows, the gut knows. There’s too much science behind the subconsciously gathered data that helps to generate those impulses for me to ignore it. I know what I’m going to have to do, but it’s going to hurt like hell to do it. Because of the bond, maybe literally.
I spend a large swath of the day more or less alone in my bed in the infirmary waiting for anything to happen. S’oraj, I assume, must be swamped with political duties in light of that little thing where he ended the decades-long war yesterday, so I don’t expect to hear from him, but it doesn’t mean I don’t hope to hear his voice any less.
T’maku comes by several times to bring me meals and check my vitals and such. She’s kind and seems young for someone of her qualifications, but she’s damned good at her job and she doesn’t tolerate any slacking from anyone else who works under her. My kind of woman.
Finally, nearing evening, my coms channel bleeps and informs me that S’oraj is trying to open an audio line between us. I shoo everyone out of the room for some privacy and, once I have the space to myself, I accept the call.
“S’oraj!”
“Is the young one okay?” he asks immediately. God, that paternal instinct is going to be hard to say goodbye to. At least the baby will be in good hands with him.
“Yes, my love, the baby is fine. And so am I, incidentally.”
“I could see that you’re okay, I couldn’t– Oh, I see, you’re teasing me.”
“Of course, I am, Your Majesty.”
“You do realize I just won an intergalactic war, right? You ought to show a little reverence for that.”
“Eh, reverence isn’t exactly my style.” I throw him a little chuckle to convey my teasing tone, and I can hear his breathing relax and settle in, knowing that his child and love are safe and healthy.
