by Lee Watts
"We'll bring her home," Alexander assured. Glancing at Cale, he added, "We'll bring them both home."
"Sire," Merrick interjected, "Perhaps it's best if Didymus stays here during the rescue. No offense, Professor, but we'll be able to move faster without you."
"Sounds like a good idea," Alexander agreed then turned to the professor. "This will allow you to catch these people up on what's happening in the galaxy and you can learn more about this planet. It could prove helpful."
"But how will you speak to the boy?" Didymus asked.
"We'll figure it out," Alexander answered.
"As you wish, Sire," Didymus conceded and was somewhat relieved not having to add to the already arduous trek across the island.
"It's late, and you won't make much time before sunset. Best you leave in the morning," Sev advised.
The group agreed and was ready to set out at dawn the next day.
Jaiden emerged from his hut with a small bag at his hip attached by a strap resting crossways on his bare chest. His only weapon, a simple leather sling, was tucked into his makeshift belt.
"Time go," Jaiden greeted to the surprise of them all.
"I taught them some Theeran growing up," Sev explained. "Aulani is the one with a gift for languages, but Jaiden does remember some words."
"He already speaks better Theeran than I do Entauri," Alexander confessed. "It'll have to do. Are we ready?"
"No, but since when does that stop us," Cale murmured. "Let's get this over with so we can go back to getting off this rock."
"We'll be back soon," Alexander declared. "All of us." With that, he gestured to Jaiden to guide their way.
The boy looked to his father, who nodded. He responded in kind and led the group into the rainforest. Reciting a passage from the Holy Codex, Sev prayed it aloud as they disappeared into the Acatus jungle.
"The Elder bless thee, and keep thee, may he make his face to shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee."
For the first hour of the hike, no one spoke; each was full of his own thoughts. Merrick considering how the Elder had placed the Morningstar survivors on this particular planet and what role they might play in the grand design. Cale kept fuming to himself about the waste of time and effort the entire rescue missions was. Marcus was mulling tactics to use once they found the women. Jaiden was solely focused on getting his sister back while Alexander kept rolling around conflicting thoughts. On the one hand, he knew to rescue these women was the right thing to do, but on the other, he wondered how he could justify the loss of someone to the rest of his group, to Cale... to himself.
Am I being chivalrous or selfish?
He wanted to be Aulani's rescuer, wanted her to find him attractive... then he forced himself to stop that line of reasoning. I can't want that. I'm engaged, he reminded himself. I can't be this interested with a woman I just met. As soon as he finished the thought, the truth flooded to mind. Yes, I can, he admitted. Because she's gorgeous, and smart, and strong, and caring... His mind went from specific traits to thinking of her angular face, dark eyes and feminine form.
Jaiden stopped abruptly, which snapped the entire group out of thought.
"What is it?" Marcus quietly asked.
"Gralla," Jaiden whispered.
"Gralla?" Merrick whispered.
The shirtless boy pointed ahead. On the ground of the clearing was a half dozen of three-meter-high, pre-historic looking birds with leathery wings and long beak full of jagged dagger-like teeth. Suddenly the birds stopped what there were pecking at turned and looked right at them.
CHAPTER 17
"Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall." - Proverbs 16:18
News of another Chinix attack reached the palace during a meeting of the military affairs committee. Appointed by the queen as special attaché to the High Council, Salazar was privy to the meeting. When it adjourned, he made his way to the spacious royal conference chamber behind the throne platform.
"What news, Salazar?" Cheyenne asked.
"Not good I'm afraid."
"Never is. Seems things are getting worse all the time. We're being outmatched at nearly every encounter."
"The Chinix attacked our outpost in the Nabreth system," Salazar reported. "We'll need to position extra ships there until repairs can be made."
"More ships," Cheyenne moaned. "We're stretched so thin already."
"Maybe we should abandon that station and consolidate our forces elsewhere," Yilib suggested.
"No. I want out. This war is accomplishing nothing. It's only costing more lives and resources. With the Hateeg invading the Pelerite Consortium we won't have a buffer between them and us anymore. We need to be ready in case they try to invade. Admiral Balin was right. It's my fault. I wanted to strike back at them for taking Darius and Alexander, but… I've found no comfort in vengeance, and now there's more loss. I need to know how we can end this war."
"Majesty," Yilib began, "we must be careful of our exit strategy. If we surrender, it will cost us more than territory. It will show the Hateeg we're ripe for conquest."
"I agree," Salazar confirmed.
"Then what do you propose?" Cheyenne asked. "We can't go on the way we are. You've seen the projections. It won't be long until we'll be forced to surrender. We need out. Whether that's through a cease-fire or surrender, I don't care, but we have to do something before it's too late."
"There is another option," Salazar suggested. "Victory."
"Victory?"
"Yes, with some help," he added.
"From whom? I know of no one willing to send us forces. Especially after everyone's seen what the Chinix can do."
"It's not that kind of help I'm talking about, Highness. It's more… logistics."
"Logistics? How? And who?"
"The Ramillie Hegemony, My Queen. As you know, they have developed the ability to slip in and out of normal space."
"Yes, I've heard about that - hyperspace."
"Precisely. Using hyperspace, they bypass The Cloud surrounding their core systems. No ship in normal space has ever survived a journey through the nebula encircling them, but hyperspace not only permits them to circumvent The Cloud but also allows their ships to traverse great distances in a fraction of the time it does for the rest of us. I've discussed it with their ambassador, Saqir Nexos, and he expressed the Hegemony's willingness to provide logistical support to the Realm."
"How does that help us?"
"You order the fleet to gather, not only a portion of it but virtually everything. We'll leave only enough ships on the frontlines to maintain the ruse. The Ramillie will then rendezvous with our forces and use their hyperspace capability to transport our ships to orbit of the Chinix core worlds. We could demand their immediate withdrawal and force a ceasefire."
"Such a decisive victory would dissuade the Hateeg from considering invasion," Yilib emphasized. "I believe you should propose this to the High Council immediately."
The queen pursed her lips then nodded her agreement.
"It does sound ideal. But Salazar, this is your idea, you should be the one to propose it."
"No, Majesty. Your relationship with the media and Council has deteriorated a great deal since the onset of the war. By you proposing the plan, it will let everyone see it was you who led us to victory."
"But Salazar-"
"Please, Highness."
"I think this is a wise decision," Yilib added, "and very magnanimous of you, Salazar. He's right, Excellency. It would do a great deal to aid your standing with the people and the Council."
She considered it for a long moment then answered, "Very well. There's not a moment to lose. Every hour we delay more lives are lost. Summon the Councilors and have Field Marshall Tulin issue the necessary orders."
Yilib set to work. Salazar also bowed and left, anxious to meet Vivica for their daily lunch together. As the door closed, Salazar smiled smugly, secure in the knowledge he was only days from the throne he so desperatel
y needed.
***
Deep in space, nearly three hundred thousand Realm ships gathered in preparation for operation "Sudden Death." From the bridge of his former command, the battlecarrier Dauntless, Admiral Balin stood with hands behind his back and glowered out the window at the sizeable armada.
"What's wrong, Admiral?" asked the ship's current commander, Commodore Tobias Chandler. "I thought you'd be in better spirits. The fleet is assembled, and if all goes according to plan, the war will be over in a few hours."
"One basket," the white-haired admiral grumbled.
"Sir?"
"Our eggs. We're putting them all in one basket, and we're counting on somebody else to hold it. I don't like it - don't like it at all."
"Then why did you order this mission?"
"Because Marshal Tulin, despite my objections, insisted. Confounded man."
"You really think it's that bad of a plan?"
"On the surface it's classic strategy, surprise attack, but…"
"But what?"
"That's the part I don't know. I've been in the service for a long time, and I've learned to trust my gut. Right now, it says something's not right, but I can't put my finger on it." Thinking out loud he mused, "We're concentrating our forces, putting the enemy in a position where they'll have to surrender, but still… something's wrong."
Interrupting his musings was a flash of ruby colored light pouring from the rip in space forming beyond the fleet. Suddenly, hundreds of similar tares appeared, and a gargantuan, tan-plated Ramillie ship exited each. Now more than ever, Balin wanted to abort the mission but had no justifiable reason. He knew because my gut told me so wouldn't fly with the field marshal, the High Council, or the queen.
"This is Admiral Qil'Donan of the Hegemony battleship Deinodon," came an arrogant voice over the speakers. "We are standing by to escort you through hyperspace."
Balin grimaced and huffed.
"Don't like it at all," he grumbled. Walking to the command station, he hit a button. "This is Admiral Balin of the Realm fleet. We are in position and standing by. Good hunting."
As the hulking, reptilian-like Ramillie ships opened gateways to the other dimension, the Realm fleet broke off into separate groups, each headed for different Chinix worlds then slipped into the portals and vanished from sight.
"Sure wish we were going with them," commented Commodore Tobias Chandler.
"Me too," Balin replied. "But I need the Dauntless to head to the border and make some noise to keep our cover. I should be back at headquarters shortly before they're due to exit hyperspace. I expect an immediate report if you detect a counterstrike."
"Do you expect one?"
"I haven't suspected a lot of things in this war, but the Chinix keep surprising me. I don't want to leave anything to chance."
"You can count on me, Admiral."
"I know I can, Tobias. I've always had full confidence in you. You were the best first officer I ever had, and now you're the finest commander in the fleet."
"Thank you, Sir," the Commodore replied then nodded in respect and prepared the ship for the jump to lightspeed.
When the last of the anomalies closed, the Dauntless floated silent and alone in the great void. For several moments Balin remained on the bridge, staring at the emptiness, and trying to reason out his misgivings. Had he only figured it out, he could have saved millions of lives. Pressed to continue his duties, he boarded his transport craft and headed back to headquarters on Theera.
A few hours later, on the capital planet, Cheyenne received a message so held up a hand signaling the High Council to be quiet.
"Councilors," she began, "we are receiving a signal from our naval headquarters. Put them on the speakers, please. Admiral Balin," she called out, "we have you on in the hall now. Go ahead."
"Majesty, Councilors," came the voice of Balin over the royal hall's speakers. "I would prefer to report in person, but there's no time."
"What is it, Admiral? Has something happened?"
"Yes, Majesty. There must have been a leak about our operation, the Chinix knew we were coming, and when our forces exited hyperspace, they were completely surrounded. Majesty… the fleets are… destroyed - all of them. We are defeated, defenseless."
Silence. No one dared speak realizing the future of the Realm was in mortal jeopardy. With a quivering voice, Cheyenne asked, "What… what percentage of our forces were committed to this strike?"
"As ordered, Highness, everything we could muster while maintaining a frontline presence. I'd say upwards of ninety percent."
Tears welling, but fighting for control, she asked, "Admiral, what is your current evaluation?"
"Highness, I can no longer guarantee the safety of any Realm world. I strongly recommend we broadcast an immediate surrender before we face unchallenged, planetary bombardments."
"Thank you, Admiral," she choked out only slightly above a whisper. "We'll contact you shortly." With that, the channel closed. Cheyenne put a trembling hand to her mouth.
"We're lost… lost. I've led the entire Realm to ruin. I'm sorry, Darius. I'm so sorry."
Her tears flowed heavy and unbidden, and she sat there for several moments heaving quietly in shock. No one dared speak or move. The steady flow of drugs to lessen her mental control, compounded with the pressures of state, and loss of her husband and child now culminated in her carefully crafted breakdown before the Council.
Cheyenne was always the epitome of propriety and seen throughout the Realm as a lady of the highest grace and elegance, but now the Council sat in awkward tension as the queen's emotions overwhelmed her. Inconsolable and unintelligible, she wept bitterly, speaking in disjointed thoughts broken by heaves of heartbreak and quivering gasps. Eventually, she rose and tried to address the hall, but her words failed her, and she crumpled to the floor racked with despair. Manipulated and broken, Cheyenne lay on the platform, faced buried in her hands, her body jerking from the panting of heavy tears. She was a spectacle, bereft of pride, dignity, or comfort.
Discreetly watching from the grand hall's second level, Mara smiled in long-awaited delight while relishing the display. She had always loathed the queen.
Cheyenne married the man who rightfully should have been my husband.
When Darius abandoned his Enty lover, news spread quickly among the elite circles of the nobility. Mara became the topic of scandalous gossip and thinly-veiled social ridicule. She held the queen responsible.
If it wasn't for Cheyenne, then Darius would have come back and married me, and I would have been Premier Lady in the Realm.
Instead, Mara became known as that type of woman.
Cheyenne always plays the moral high road, as if she never did anything wrong.
The very thought of all Cheyenne was increased Mara's bitterness toward her. The Duchess made it her life's work to ensure Cheyenne was publicly humiliated. Seeing the realization of her efforts, she seethed with delight.
Cheyenne, her system full of the drugs that were slipped into her food, couldn't control herself and suffered a complete emotional and mental breakdown before the entire Council. After several awkward moments, Salazar left his place among the Councilors and went to Cheyenne's side. Kneeling beside her, he placed his arm around her and called for help. Medical technicians arrived, and Cheyenne was taken away. Salazar stood on the forward steps of the platform and spoke with strength and determination.
"Councilors, remember well what you've seen! Let it be a warning that, if we don't act immediately, this same scene will play out thousands of times on worlds throughout the Realm. Families torn apart, lives destroyed, and futures eradicated. All this will befall us if we don't act to protect the people! The Chinix are upon us, the Hateeg at our doorstep, and we stand defenseless because of mistakes made, not only from the throne but from your seats as well! But Councilors, this is not the time for finger pointing, not a time to abandon our responsibilities. Now, more than ever we must come together and act for the very preser
vation of the Realm!"
"But what can we do?" came a voice. "We're out of options. We must send an immediate surrender to the Chinix and pray they have mercy on us."
Many of the Councilors voiced their agreement.
"NO," countered Salazar forcefully. "A thousand times no! Their unprovoked attack on the Chariot shows us what kind of people they are. We've all seen their brand of mercy. A plea to the Chinix will fall on deaf ears. They only respond to strength, and I say let us deal with them from a position of strength."
"How can we do that? The fleet is destroyed?"
"For too long the Realm has stood alone. We shy away from supporting Assembly operations and hesitate to enter into alliances. Look where such policy has brought us! It's time we open our minds to a new reality, a reality where the Realm must be part of a larger whole. I say we petition to enter the Hegemony."
"And turn the Realm over to the Ramillie?" Edric questioned.
"Far from it!" Salazar countered. "You've all seen the worlds that have joined the Hegemony. They are prosperous, their people protected, and they share common security and open markets. We would not be betraying our sovereignty but protecting it. In a matter of days, perhaps hours, a fleet of Chinix warships will be on its way to this system, and when they arrive Chinix weapons will rain down on this hall; then it will be too late. We must act quickly if we are to save the Realm. Who among you will break from these policies that have led us to the brink of destruction? Who will act now and save the Realm? Who will stand with me?"
Edric sat dumbfounded and in surreal shock of the situation. The Realm was defeated, more than defeated, crushed. For his entire life, the Realm was one of the most powerful nations in that part of the galaxy, but now it stood on the edge of utter destruction.
Is this my fault? Did I enable this?
His mind flooded with doubt and frantically raced for alternate answers.
No. This isn't what we talked about. It isn't part of the plan. Salazar's caught up by events as we all are.
Then he remembered how Salazar mentioned the queen would be much too overcome to be of any concern.
