The trip from the landing pad Zhi’s shuttle used and the palace was only a short walk. He entered the semi-circular Council’s Chamber and saw the usual familiar faces. Some were friends, others were not. As chairman of the Council, Baron Stuggart was already seated on the dais in the smaller of the two chairs. Zhi took his assigned seat, which was in the first row, three left of center on the left side of the dais. There were five rows of twenty seats in the chamber. The location of a baron’s seat had significance. The more stature a barony held, the closer to the queen their seat. So the center seats of the first row were for the most regarded barons, whereas the edge seats on the back rows were for barons whose names the average citizen couldn’t remember.
The Council had been originally formed as an advisory panel to aid the early monarchs, but over the years it had claimed some authority of its own. Each seated baron or baroness was to manage the affairs of their respected barony as the direct representative of the monarch. As a council, they met to draft laws and regulations for royal consideration, to ensure peaceful dialog between baronies, and advise the monarch on issues of state. Although the ruling member of royal family held ultimate authority in the Commonwealth, the Council of Barons oversaw the daily operations of the nation almost independently.
The chamber began filling up in anticipation of the Queen's arrival. The chamber was always open to her attendance. The other, larger chair sitting beside Stuggart's was reserved for the Queen when she attended sessions. Everyone was milling around, discussing various matters of the Commonwealth that were of interest to them. Baron Stuggart struck his gavel to call the session to order. The other barons made their way to their seats. The voice of the Crier of the Council was soon heard. "Mr. Chairman, Barons, and Baronesses, may I present Her Royal Majesty Queen Constance." Everyone immediately stood up and looked toward the main doors. The Queen entered, followed closely by Hawthorne. She walked directly to the dais and took a seat next to Stuggart. Hawthorne took his place behind the rows of chair reserved for the barons. After the Queen took her seat, the other all sat down as well.
Baron Stuggart then stood and stepped forward. "I now call this session of the Council of Barons to order. We are most pleased to have Her Majesty attend today. She has requested to address our assembly, and so I will now relinquish the floor to her." He returned to his chair and sat down.
The Queen then stood and stepped forward. "Barons and Baronesses, I thank you for granting me the opportunity to speak with you today. As each of you is aware, the Commonwealth has recently been met with circumstances the likes of which have never been in our history. We were all caught unawares when our border was attacked," she paused briefly before continuing. "We were all heartbroken when the Expedition and Valkyrie Squadron were destroyed, and we all rejoiced when Lt. Lakeisha Johnson returned home safely as the lone survivor of a horrible massacre. Closely after that, we were all shocked by the events concerning the Dauntless and the Rylan Starburst. Now we all are watching that story continue to unfold in the courtroom. I have come here today to ask the Council to issue a formal declaration to the Royal Court requesting a stay of the proceedings." As soon as the words left her mouth, the chamber was in an uproar.
"Order! Order!" Shouted Stuggart as he slammed his gavel repeatedly. "We will maintain our composure!" The room began to slowly calm down. Stuggart then addressed the Queen. "Your Majesty, you must admit this request is extremely unorthodox, especially considering the circumstances of the current situation of the trial. I assume you have a good reason for this request that you will share with us?"
"Indeed, Mr. Chairman," the Queen replied, "I have received credible information that the border attack was not from soldiers of the V'drell Dominion and that Captain Ridgeway was most likely framed for the attack on the Rylan Starburst." Again the chamber burst into chaos.
"Order," shouted Stuggart, again banging his gavel. "The next person to have an outburst will be ejected from this session!" Turning again to the Queen, "My apologies, Your Majesty. Normally we pride ourselves on being civil, but the statements you are making are provoking some strong responses from the gallery. Would you be so kind as to elaborate?"
"I have a trusted source that has shared some highly classified information with me that leads me to believe that the Commonwealth is being manipulated by a yet unknown entity. I have an agent investigating, but do not wish to convict what could be an innocent man until we have all the facts."
"Facts, Your Majesty?" Zhi stood to address the Queen and the others. "Let's discuss the facts. First, we have recorded and verified audio of Ridgeway giving the order to fire. His defense team has reviewed it and cannot find any evidence of tampering. Second, Lt. Johnson returned from the engagement in the Quarantine Zone and informed us that it was the V'drellians that took her prisoner. Third, your 'credible information' was from Lt. Danielle Hart, correct? A Sovereign Angel believed to be killed during Lt. Johnson's escape. I'm not sure how 'trusted' she can be as a source when she has been alive all this time and not attempted to contact us. Not only that, but I have my own sources that have informed me that not only is Lt. Hart alive, but she has been in the company of the V'drellian emperor. In fact, didn't she call Your Majesty on one of the fleet emergency frequencies to set up a call of introduction between Yourself and the V'drellian emperor? Seems to me that your 'trusted source' shouldn't be trusted at all!" The erupted into an uproar of shouting.
Stuggart beat his gavel and called for order repeatedly, but there was no calming the room at this point. The barons were almost to the point of rioting. Hawthorne got up from his seat and motioned for the Sovereign Angel protection detail to follow him. He approached the dais, and put an arm around Queen Constance's shoulders and escorted her toward the door. Over the roar of the crowd, one word was heard more loudly than the rest. Someone had shouted "Traitor!", and the crowd's intensity rose even higher.
Zhi was standing by his seat, watching the chaos erupt around him. An evil smile escaped his lips. In a matter of moments, his cousin had gone from being one of the most beloved rulers in their history to the most hated person in the room, and he would make sure that news of the events of today traveled far and wide across the Commonwealth. Too bad, cousin Constance. You should have left politics and government to those of us that know how to run a nation.
CHAPTER 18
Danielle and K'oron were having difficulty locating No'tok. The Drah'jik had stopped reporting in and could be anywhere in Dominion space. K'oron had issued a directive to all members of the V'drellz Stragizi off-world to report any sighting or rumor of either the Drah'jik or No'tok to him immediately.
While they waiting for a lead on No'tok, they turned their eyes to investigating Th'arn. As a politician, the legate should have been easy to locate. According to his Capitol office, he was on a trip to his home district of Magra Centauri. However, his local office was not aware of his visit, and he never arrived. Since there was only one semi-populated area even remotely along the path he would have taken between V'drell Prime and Magra Centauri they decided that would be the place to start asking questions. They had left V'drell Prime two days prior and were in high orbit around the desert planet of Kr'atzic. K'oron was at his ship's main console researching the planetary system below. Danielle was beside K'oron watching as he was working. His fingers flew nimbly across the keypad as he began pulling up various bits of information about the area in question.
"It's a wasteland," he informed her. "Sparely populated, and barely civilized. I haven't visited this area personally, but we have records on file from other members of the Order that have been there. None of those reports paint a nice picture. There are only two habitable locations. Kr'atzic, the planet below, is a mostly desert planet with settlements situated near the few water sources. The other is the larger of Kr'atzic's moons, and it is a mining colony. Only two settlements there, both privately owned."
"If I was trying to hide, I think I would go to the planet itself," Danielle share
d her thoughts. "It has more settlements so more places to disappear, and since the moon is a privately owned mining outpost they probably have strict records of who comes and goes."
"I was thinking the same thing," K'oron agreed. "We should go down there and see what we can figure out."
"Agreed, but I think we should not wear Order uniforms," K'oron suggested. "I have found that away from V'drell Prime, the uniform is more of a target than a badge of honor."
K'oron retrieved some very basic looking clothes for them from a storage compartment. After taking turns changing in the one cramped restroom, they took a small shuttle down to the surface. K'oron landed it a few hours walk from the larger settlement. After exiting the shuttle, K'oron pointed a small device at the ship and pressed a button on it. There was a ripple in the air around the ship and it faded from view.
"That's a handy trick," Danielle commented. "I need to steal one of those before I go back to the Commonwealth."
K'oron chuckled, "That can probably be arranged. We modified our camouflage to not only block energy sensors but visual sensors as well. We even have a prototype for personal use. It even has a small shield generator built in. For when you get in difficult situations."
When they arrived at the settlement, the red sun was beginning to slide below the horizon. The community as a whole looked to Danielle as though it had been built from spare spacecraft parts. There were lights periodically along the main pathway, just close enough to keep the path from entering total blackness. Several of the buildings had what appeared to be signage on their front walls, although Danielle couldn't read them. K'oron led them directly to one of the larger buildings.
"This appears to be the local drinking and lodging establishment," K'oron said. "If Th'arn has been here, someone inside will probably know." He opened the door for Danielle and followed her in. The lower floor of the building housed the bar and some tables. There were various patrons eating a drinking. A few were V'drellian, but most were of races that had been conquered and enslaved by the Dominion over the years. Upon their entering, the riotous atmosphere of the bar room was suddenly muted. All eyes were on the two strangers standing just inside the door.
A very hairy figure with six arms, eight eyes, and an apron stepped from behind the bar and walked toward them. "Can I help you? I can't say I've seen you around here before. Name's Aracken." The figure's voice sounded male, and he had a strange appendage at each corner of his mouth that had a fang on the tip. It almost looked like a mustache to Danielle.
"We're looking for someone," K'oron explained. "A V'drellian male. He is wanted by order of the Emperor."
"We don't get many of your kind out here," Aracken responded. "In fact, the only three V'drellians in this whole settlement are in the room right now. Any of these the fellow you're looking for?"
K'oron gave a quick second glance of the room. "No, he's not in here. Have you had anyone pass through recently?"
"I haven't seen anyone, but I work the night shift here," the hairy man told them. "You might ask Letheria in the morning. She works the day shift. Unless your guy stayed over in one of the rooms upstairs or liked to be out after dark, I wouldn't have seen him."
"When does Letheria start her shift?" Danielle asked.
"She works fourth and first quarters, I work second and third," Aracken answered. He could tell by the confused look on her face that she didn't understand the time reference. "Around here, we divide the day into four quarters starting at high sun. The fourth quarter is around sunrise."
"Do you have any rooms available?" K'oron asked.
"Got one left," Aracken replied. "You folks don't mind sharing do you?"
K'oron turned to look at Danielle, who nodded her acceptance. "Very well. That will be sufficient for our needs. Thank you, Aracken," K'oron said with a polite tip of the head.
"Come on over to the bar, and I'll get you checked in," Aracken said as he started walking back behind the bar. He pulled out what looked like a ledger book and opened it up to a partially filled page. "Names?"
"V'drellz Stragizi," K'oron stated. "I will be happy to pay your rate, but there can be no record of our stay."
Aracken looked at K'oron. His plethora of eyes were all focused on the V'drellian in front of him as though trying to read whether he was telling the truth or not. He smiled and closed his book. "Fair enough. The normal room rate is two imperial drahs, but since we're off books it'll be three." K'oron reached into a pocket, withdrew three silver looking coins, and placed them on the bar. They hairy man picked them up with one of his hands and stuffed them in his pocket.
"Up the stairs, the last door on the right. The public waste room is the blue door at the end of the hall," he informed them. "Have a pleasant stay."
They went up the crudely constructed stairs and found their room exactly where Aracken said it would be. There was little in the way of furnishings. A bed large enough for two, a small table with two chairs, and a partition in the corner for changing was all that adorned the otherwise bare room. A bucket of water and two rags had been provided for bathing. A lone window was the only source of fresh air.
Danielle sat down on the bed and began removing her boots. "Well, it's not the Martian Excelsior, but I guess it will do for the night," she said with a slight laugh.
"I am not familiar with the lodgings of which you speak," K'oron replied, "but I cannot think of anywhere that I have stayed that has been so utilitarian. At least there is water for freshening up. I think there is as much sand and dirt on the inside on my clothes as there is on the outside." He removed his shirt, dampened one of the rags, sat down on the other side of the bed and began wiping the sand from his arms.
Danielle had never seen K'oron without his shirt, and she was immediately drawn to the multitude of pale scars on his back. There were numerous thin horizontal lines that appeared to be the scars from repeated beatings with a whip. She also saw two very familiar round scars from being shot, and one vertical one about two inches long on his lower left back, presumably from being stabbed with a knife. He was very muscular. More so than his outwardly thin appearance would leave one to believe. She could see the outlines of every major muscle in his back shift about as he was wiping down his neck and chest. When he finished, he got up from the bed and walked over to the window taking his dusty shirt with him. He opened the window and shook the shirt outside to get as much of the dust and dirt off as possible. When he turned around, he noticed Danielle looking at him, so he started to put his shirt back on.
"You've been through a lot," she said. "I don't think I've ever seen so many scars on a living person before. Were you captured and tortured?"
"Captured no," he replied. "The former Commandant of the Order was very strict, and I was a very unruly six-year-old child when I first joined. He said I had too strong a spirit to be used by Th'warzin, so my spirit would have to be broken before I could be of service to our Lord. First I was assigned the lowliest jobs in the Citadel. Scrubbing the floors, doing laundry, even cleaning the waste chambers. When that didn't work to his satisfaction, I was put in the arena to train against some of the older, larger cadets. They were given wooden weapons, I was given none. The outcome never ended in my favor. Still, I would not break. So every day at high sun for ten days, I was tied to a post and given five lashes. Since he could not break me and have me cower before him like the other members of the Order, he decided that the best place for me was in the armory which was out of his presence."
K'oron continued his story. "It was a mistake on his part. At first, I did nothing but fetch and clean things for the old armory master, Dr'onac. By the time I was ten, I knew everything about every weapon and piece of armor we had. I could repair them all if damaged, having learned the art of the forge from Dr'onac. At that point, the old man decided to train me properly to fight since the Commandant had no intentions of doing so. I would practice every night for two hours after the rest of the members had gone to bed. I was determined to prove my value to the
Order and to Dr'onac."
"In my twentieth year," he went on, "the Order threw a feast for the anniversary of the Commandant's twenty-fifth year as our leader. It was the longest tenure of any Commandant in our history. All members were required to attend, so Dr'onac and I were there. Upon seeing me, the Commandant's hatred of me again came to the surface. He ordered that a fight would be staged right there in the dining hall. For the combatants, he selected Ig'rath our most honored champion, and me. We were each given a sword, shield, and ordered to fight until a member yielded. No member of the Order ever yielded, so the Commandant thought that I would die in the fight, or yield and be branded a coward. Ig'rath was a formidable opponent, but I had watched him train for years. No one ever pays attention to the armory steward in the background. I knew his tactics and his tricks, and no one knew that I had learned to fight, so I had the advantage. I feigned a few faltering steps to make him lower his guard, then slipped around him and took him out with a well-placed blade between the joints of his armor. Believe it or not, most everyone cheered. Our Order celebrates death during combat, and Ig'rath died honorably. The Commandant, however, was not cheering. He demanded that I stand before him and explain how I had learned to fight. I refused, so he made it an order. If I did not follow the orders of our Commandant, I would be killed for treason. Before I could answer, Dr'onac stood and told the Commandant that he had trained me because the Commandant had failed in his role as leader and mentor to the younger members of the order. That infuriated the Commandant, and he grabbed a dinner knife from the table and threw it at Dr'onac. The blade pierced his heart, and he fell to the floor dead."
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