Warlords Saga

by Brian K. Larson

  “Admiral,” Race began, “We must get Danielle back to Antares...”

  “...Colonel, we’ll get to that soon enough...”

  “...but Admiral, it’s imperative...”

  Jed shot Race a stern glare, “You’ll get your turn, Colonel, but not yet!”

  “Yes, Sir,” Race nervously looked down.

  “Now,” Jed continued, “have we determined that the debris has stopped passing through the corridor?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Commander Jameson quickly answered, “The last of the debris came through a few hours ago. Nothing has exited since.”

  “Excellent!” Jed nodded his satisfaction, “Commander, I want two transports on standby twenty-four seven.”

  “Aye, Sir,” Jameson replied, “I’ll coordinate the Chief and Major Phillips on the new duty assignments.”

  “Have two ACE support ships stationed at the Betelgeuse Event Horizon. I want the ACE support ships to relay through the corridor for hourly updates. The second remaining ACE ship will standby. If an attack hits during the hourly run, the standby ship is to travel through and immediately report the attack. If possible, I want fleet strengths and positions.”

  “Aye, Sir, I’ll have them start the rotations immediately.”

  “It would appear that the only ships left in the alliance are the ten Earth ships in the Sol sector, and the Draconian and Centurion ships here and at Betelgeuse.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Jameson again answered, “Two-hundred and fifty each Draconian and Centurion warships are in our sector. Two-hundred and fifty Centurion ships are holding the Betelgeuse sector...that’s it, Sir. That’s all the ships we have left.”

  “Very well, how is Captain Zetaal holding up out there?”

  “He’s very confident, Sir.”

  “Yes, he really is a great officer to lead their fleet,” Captain McCartney added, “He did all he could to fight off the Antarians on this last attack, but because they changed tactics, everyone was caught off guard.”

  “Well, let’s make sure we’re not caught off guard again, shall we?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Captain McCartney nodded, “Sir, with the Bristol down, can you give me any other command, Sir?”

  “I don’t think we have any new ships rolling off the showroom floor just yet. Am I right about that, Commander?”

  “Yes, Sir, the next set of fleet ships will roll off the assembly line in about three weeks.”

  “Three weeks we don’t have,” Jed gravely said.

  “The Admiral is correct,” Mister Thelix added, “There is only one leader that would risk this type of attack.”

  “Dumakas!” Danielle sneered.

  “Yes, it is likely that he has swayed the vote of all Houses to reinstate him as Emperor. He will stop at nothing to reach Earth now.”

  “Which brings me to my point, Admiral...” Race again attempted to interject.

  “...and I said we’ll address that issue in a moment,” Jed leaned over and whispered.

  “Right, Sorry again, Sir.”

  “Okay, now we have regular reports coming from Betelgeuse. Captain McCartney, I’ll send you back in an ACE support to coordinate with Captain Zetaal.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I want you to divide his fleet into three or four stages. Position them in staggered rings of defense in hopes that the Antarian fleet will jump to a clear location between sections. If they do...”

  “We can flank them on both sides with any fleet, leaving a reserve ready to assist at any location,” Captain McCartney finished.

  “Yes, Captain, excellent. That is exactly what we need.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “I know we’ve been redistributing the fleet at our interior planets, but now’s the time to bring all we have to the corridor exit. I want the same strategic configuration of ships at this location. If an attack is reported, we’ll have our reserves ready to jump across to assist.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Commander Jameson nodded.

  The ship’s intercom gave a brief whistle before Lieutenant Henderson’s voice broke in, “Sir, the shuttle has arrived, Sir.”

  “Very good, Lieutenant, have them meet us here in my conference room immediately.”

  “Shuttle, Sir?” Race asked, “Who’s coming to dinner tonight?”

  “Never mind, Race,” Jed again admonished, “You’ll know soon enough.”

  “...but, Sir...”

  “Now, Doctor Lambert,” Jed said, completely ignoring Race, “We’re ready for your report on Empress Danielle.”

  “Yes, of course,” Doctor Lambert said, clearing his throat, “If I could bring your attention to the video screen,” Doctor Lambert pressed a few commands at his seat, “Here are the latest scans of Ms., err, Empress Danielle. As you can see, there are two new air sacks that are developing. Down here, she has two new kidneys forming, as well as two livers. I think that given more time, two more kidneys would begin to form. The most interesting aspect is the second heart that’s now beating. Otherwise, she’s in better than perfect health.”

  Danielle sat staring at her scans in awe, “How can this be, Doctor?”

  “My theory, and mind you, it’s just a theory at this point, but something in the blood you have been consuming has altered your DNA. It’s changing you into part human, part Antarian.”

  “How do all those new parts fit inside?” Race asked.

  “They don’t,” Doctor Lambert said, “That’s the troubling part.”

  “What do you mean, Doc?” Race asked, glancing between Danielle and Doctor Lambert, “She’s going to be alright, isn’t she?”

  “That still remains to be seen, Colonel,” Doctor Lambert scratched the back of his head, “If these new organs finish their development, they’ll begin to push on everything else, unless...”

  “Unless what, Doctor Lambert?” Jed said, interjecting his question.

  “Unless these markers here,” Doctor Lambert explained with a laser pointer at the screen image, “begin to elongate her body cavity, providing the needed room.”

  “And if they don’t?” Danielle nervously asked.

  “It’s really quite simple, your Empress...”

  “...my Empress,” Darnash corrected.

  “No, your Empress, she’s not mine, but I digress.”

  “Please continue, Doctor,” Jed insisted.”

  “I’m sorry, Empress Danielle, but if these markers don’t activate, you will die.”

  “Any ideas on how we can activate them?” Danielle begged everyone in the room.

  “My guess,” Gor’con added, “Is the final dose of Kron’shulooka.”

  Race leaned over to Jed, “That’s the blood spirit of the Boreshog creature.”

  “Thank you for that, Colonel, but I think that was in your briefing already.”

  Race poked Jed’s shoulder with a smile, “Just makin’ sure you knew what that was, Sir.”

  “I could die,” Danielle said with a cross look, “and you want to joke around? Quit messing around and tell me, Doctor, is there anything you can do?”

  “I wish I knew more of what was happening, but I don’t.”

  “Is there any way to reverse these alterations?” Jed asked.

  “I’m not a geneticist; I haven’t the slightest clue, but I have a couple of friends involved with research I could bring on the team, Sir.”

  “Can they be trusted to keep this quiet?”

  “I trust them explicitly.”

  “Then make whatever preparations you need to get them here.” Jed paused briefly before continuing, “But you only have a few short hours left to examine Danielle.”

  “Am I going to die in hours?” Danielle panicked.

  “No, but the Doctor won’t have access to you much longer.”

  “What are you saying, Admiral?” Race quizzed. “And can we finally get to our little problem? Now that we know she might die, we really need to get on to...”

  Race was interrupted by the conference room d
oor clanking open. Standing in the entry was a white shoulder-length haired, near-human looking female with enlarged eyes, “Admiral Fitz, Skati Narfason at your service.”

  The Draconian woman wore a black skin-tight leather uniform that Race, Jed and the rest of the human men had a hard time not staring at. They passed their eyes from her feet to head like laser beams passing over her curvaceous body, and then back down before they answered the alien woman.

  “Ah, Skatie,” Jed said, breaking the awkward silence, “Glad you could make it. Please,” he said, extending an open hand, “There’s a seat reserved for you. Come in, come in.”

  Race shook off the powerful effect the alien woman had on his mind and quickly extended his hand, “Race Jennings, Colonel Race Jennings.”

  The alien woman ignored Race’s gesture and sat at the table, a half-smile flashing, “I remember you, Colonel Jennings. Admiral Fitz, It is good to see you again,” she winked at Jed, causing him to blush, “We really need to get together more often.”

  “Ah, yeah, me too... I mean, that’d be great.”

  “Admiral?” Race said poking at Jed’s shoulder, only this time it was to get his attention, “Our problem, Sir?”

  “Right, right,” Jed giggled under his breath, “I called you on board, it would be rude of me not to tell you what we need.”

  “I am indebted to you and your people, Admiral Fitz. I am only happy to accommodate anything you need.”

  “Admiral?” Race again tried to gain Jed’s attention.

  “Colonel, I said we’d get to your problem.”

  “...and?”

  “...and we have arrived at your problem now that Skatie is here.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t’ understand.”

  Skatie gave a roll of her eyes, “This one is hopelessly dense,” now glancing at Danielle, the one who spared her life in the Antarian arena, “Is he always like this?”

  “Yes, unfortunately it is true,” Danielle answered, her smirk almost hidden.

  “Hey now!”

  “Hey now, what?” Danielle peered in return.

  Race turned to Jed, “Admiral, can we get to our problem, please? ... Sir?”

  “Relax, Colonel. I’ve asked Skatie to come here to help with planning your return to Antares.”

  “...because she really needs to get back...” Race paused as Jed’s words sunk in, “Return, Sir? Really Sir? You’re going to let us take her back?”

  “Yes, Colonel. I’m sending you and Danielle back. It appears that if she doesn’t go, she’ll die.”

  “And if she goes, she very well could die,” Gor’con warned.

  “Well,” Race said, now smiling at the prospect of returning, “We can’t just waltz up and knock on their door again.”

  “Quite right,” Jed agreed, “They’ll be looking for us to jump into the sector.”

  “They will now be able to detect any Earth ship’s signature,” Mister Thelix added, “They will not be fooled by stealth again.”

  “And will blow up any ship that does approach,” Jed added.

  “...but if we appear to be one of them...”

  “Race, you’re a genius!” Jed said snapping his hands together.

  “Sir?”

  “It’s a perfect plan.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t’ follow, Sir.”

  “Simple, you’ll have to obtain an Antarian ship.”

  “You mean steal one?” Race began and then placed his hands out in front of him, “and how do you expect us to get our hands on one of their ships?”

  “Race,” Jed said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “You’re a resourceful guy, you’ll think of something.”

  “Gee thanks for the vote of confidence. I’ll come up with somethin’.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ________________________

  Serintin Arena

  ________________________

  The cold wind blew the snow covering the arena and coliseum into deep wet drifts. Serintin was fully into its winter cycle. The ancient Boreshog creatures, most in hibernation, grew in size and strength during this time. Only the strongest of these beasts remained awake. These exhaled fire to keep them warm during the long dark nights of this season.

  Dumakas stood at the edge of the arena balcony, the sharpness of his expression reflecting the bitter wind. Wind and snow or not, the games must be held.

  He was accompanied by Laboolaron and his newly honored tactical officer, Ma’har. Dumakas arms spread out before his assembled Antarians who were attending the next arena games. He looked from one side of the coliseum to the other, absorbing the thundering applause. He shivered in anticipation of the formal announcement that he was returning as their Emperor.

  Basking in the praise of each handclap, he stood for a long period before attempting to quiet the multitude, unwilling to take away this moment he relished so.

  Suddenly he lifted his arms into the air, signaling the crowd he was ready to speak. The assembly, at first, not willing to relent their thundering applause, turned to shouts and chants for their former Emperor. Lowering his arms, he smiled and the crowed once again raising their approvals louder than before.

  The crowd was silenced by a bone shaking roar. Several warriors brought a great Boreshog creature into the arena high ground, bound by chains that shackled its massive muscular hooved legs, and by nets tying the great wings across the suffering creature’s back. The dozen warriors fixed each end of the heavy chains to posts imbedded deep into the stone. The creature raised its head and gave another mighty roar of disapproval. Wisps of smoke and snot exuded from the creature’s nostrils spewed into the air, landing all around the warriors. Then the creature lowered its head and blew its breath on the snot-laden ground. As the hot shimmering gases hit them, each pile of phlegm burst into flames.

  The warriors backed away from the now, fire-blowing, Antarian dragon. A spectacle of these creatures once only observed in the wild, now the captive creature blew fire from this mouth akin to a blowtorch out of control.

  Several of the warriors were struck by this sudden show of fire and fell from the high point of the arena, the flames consuming their flesh even after they crashed into the waters below.

  The warriors who came into contact with the burning snot perished in an intense fireball, their screams of pain overwhelmed by every bay of the creature struggling against the chains that bound it.

  Dumakas, from the safety of his balcony outcropping, laughed with pleasure at the remaining warriors fleeing the arena. A great iron door with sharp spikes at each rod slowly lowered, caging the creature within the arena.

  Dumakas again reveled in the thunderous applause for a moment. Rejoicing with his people, he once more raised his arms and let out a warrior’s cry that nearly sounded over the roaring of the Boreshog. The coliseum became silent, even the fire breathing Antarian dragon paused its screams and relaxed against its restraints.

  “My fellow Antarians,” Dumakas began, “My loyal warriors of the Rising Star of Antares.”

  More thunderous applause once more erupted, but he quickly silenced them before continuing, “My fellow and loyal Antarian warriors. Today is a great day for all Antarians.” Holding his hands out in front to keep the coliseum quieted, “I stand before you today, once again, AS - YOUR - EMPEROR!”

  Dumakas’ voice echoed throughout the coliseum as he allowed the next storm of noise from the crowd, lifting his arms palms up and waving in upward strokes to electrify the crowd to a higher frenzy.

  Laboolaron cheered from his place next to his leader, while Ma’har vigorously clapped with the crowd.

  “My fellow warriors,” Dumakas continued over the noise that now slowly faded, focusing on his every word, “We are entering into a new era! A new era, freed from the bounds of ancient fictions that we once held as sacred. Yes, it is true that a great tragedy befell the council of elders at the House of Delema. Be assured that their untimely death in such a horrific accident, will now allow us to forg
e ahead. Tumaleka is now appointing a new council body. A body that has already voted my confidence. A body that has vowed to uphold the very decision which was delivered personally to me by the former council before taking my leave: the unanimous and overwhelming vote to reinstate me as Emperor of the Rising Star Antares!”

  The angry Boreshog roared its disapproval, raising its head into the air, blowing fire and snot from its nostrils into the air. Pulling against the chains that bound her, she was determined to break free and kill this enemy that slayed her young adolescent.

  The two made brief eye contact as the she beast snorted smoke into the arena before relenting her futile struggles against the bindings. A great effort tore the net binding her wings, and she stretched them out as wide as she could and flapped them, rising as far off the ground as she could, pulling the chains to their limits before collapsing in exhaustion.

  “I come before you today to tell you a truth! It is true that Tumaleka is of my blood. I truly am of the House of Delema!”

  The crowd gasped in awe of their Emperor’s words.

  “Do not be dismayed, my fellow warriors. I chose to leave the House of Delema for a richer, brighter future in the teachings of the House of Gornash. We must leave behind our past and forget these ancient scrolls. Yes, they had their place in our history. We saw for our own eyes the scriptures unfolding before us with the appearance of the strange warrior of an unknown house. Now that this has taken place, we can put those writings behind us. We shall no longer be bound by the babblings of the long dead seers of Delema. Now, we will forge ahead anew, and return to our roots, our heritage, in the way our forefathers meant for us.

  “In celebration of my reinstatement, we shall behold today a special arena match. Unfortunately, there are none worthy to take this challenge; no alien creatures that will fight to the death to fill our blood lust for the next cycle.

  “Instead of alien creatures pitted against each other, we will return to our long lost past and fight the mighty Boreshog beast that dwells in the trenches.” Dumakas reached around and took the wings of swords that Danielle had once used and held them over the balcony. “With the death of our former Empress, let the games begin,” and then flung the armor over the balcony, letting them fall tumbling down to the arena grounds below as a symbol of a new and fresh beginning.