Warlords Saga

by Brian K. Larson

  “Yes, my Emperor,” Tumaleka said with a hidden smirk.

  “I trust that you have completed your assignment?”

  “Yes, my Lord,” Tumaleka answered with a bow, “I have appointed seven new council members. They have all confirmed your appointment as Emperor.”

  “Very well, then,” he stood and waved to Ma’har, “Bring in Revkon, I wish to hear his report.”

  “Yes, my Lord,” Ma’har answered with a nod.

  The chamber doors opened to his scout captain and he approached Dumakas’ throne and knelt, “My Lord and Emperor Dumakas, I have returned from the Betelgeuse corridor.”

  “Was your ship detected, Lord Revkon?”

  “No, my Lord, I do not believe so.”

  Dumakas shot forward, stepping down from his seat to face the Antarian, “I did not ask what you believe or disbelieve, Captain, I require a definitive answer!”

  “My apologies, my Lord,” Revkon bowed, “I am certain my ship was not detected, nor do any of my ship’s scanners report detection.”

  Dumakas returned to his throne with a thud, “You should hope you are correct.”

  “Yes, my Lord and Emperor, I shall pay with my own life if I am incorrect.”

  “I shall see to it that you do, if you are incorrect.”

  Revkon swallowed and continued his report, “The sector has been cleared of all Eridonian and Earthen ships, my Lord.”

  “Very well, then! What else do you have to report?”

  “The Centaurian destroyers are all that remain in the sector.”

  “How many?”

  “There are two-hundred ships detected in sector, my Lord.”

  “We could squash that puny fleet with ease, Captain.”

  “They have changed configurations, my Lord.”

  Dumakas leaned forward with interest, “Explain!”

  Revkon reached into his vest pocket and retrieved a handheld device, “I have loaded the sector schematics and will halographically display them before you, if you wish, my Lord.”

  “Proceed,” Dumakas said with a wave of his hand and sitting back in his chair.

  Revkon depressed a command on his hand-held device, causing a blue-green holographic three dimensional display of the Betelgeuse sector, “As you can see, my Lord,” Revkon pointed to three distinct areas, “Their fleet has been split into three elements. These two inner bands are clear areas they expect us to jump into...”

  “...so they can flank us on either side? I think not!” Dumakas protested.

  “My Lord, with our advanced jump computers, we could jump one large fleet alongside one of the smaller rings. They would not have time to move the other ships to assist.”

  “How would our existing ship configurations hold out with those smaller fleets?”

  “If we take them by surprise and jump within their midst with eighty Antarian Warships, we would take significant damage to sixty-five. However,” Revkon continued, “It would not take long to reconfigure, say, twenty more ships in each of our fleets. Attacking with one hundred ships would minimize our losses while assuring the destruction of the entire Centaurian element. We could remove one third of their fleet while we suffer minimal casualties.”

  Dumakas stroked his stringy goatee for a moment. He turned to his first, “What do you think of Captain Revkon’s plan, Lord Ma’har?”

  “Lord Revkon’s plan is sound, my Emperor. However...”

  “...yes? I’m listening,” Dumakas glared.

  “...however, more is always better if you have more to send.”

  Dumakas roared with laughter, “I do like the way you think, Lord Ma’har, HA HAAA HAAAAA HAA!”

  “Then I shall begin reconfiguring the three existing fleets for one-hundred ships each.”

  “One Twenty and no less,” Dumakas said with a stern finger, “The Warlords of Antares do nothing small!”

  “Yes, my Lord, one-hundred and twenty warships each. That would leave one hundred-forty ships in reserve, after five-hundred were dispatched for more raids.”

  “How soon before the remaining one-thousand arrive at Antares?”

  “Five days, my Lord.”

  “Very well, proceed with your fleet configurations. Do you plan sending all three fleets at once?”

  “Yes, my Lord. That would be the strongest attack. The Centaurian elements could not offer mutual support if they are all under attack at the same time. If we sent one fleet at a time, the other two fleets at Betelgeuse would be on high alert and undoubtedly bring more ships through the corridor from Sol.”

  “How much time do you estimate before they are able to call for reinforcements?”

  “It only takes three minutes to cross the reestablished corridor, my Lord,” Ma’har offered. I estimate ten to fifteen minutes before their reserves would arrive.”

  “Yes, Lord Ma’har. I am aware of this shortened crossing time. Once we have eliminated the three Centurion fleets, we will control access to and from the corridor. We can assemble the remaining Antarian warships at Betelgeuse in preparation for the invasion of Earth.”

  “Yes, my Lord, by your command,” Ma’har bowed in submission. Turning to his Captain, Ma’har continued, “Lord Revkon, I shall put you in command of fleet two, Lord Baelak will command three, and Lord Dumakas will command fleet one?”

  “Do not you think it wise to consult me before you make your fleet command assignments, Lord Ma’har?”

  “No, my Lord, I assumed you would be leading us to our victory at Betelgeuse.”

  “No, Lord Ma’har, you shall command my flagship and the first fleet. I shall remain on Serintin until we have secured the corridor. I have many duties to attend on Serintin. I shall accompany the fleet once we are ready to conquer Earth.”

  “Yes, my Lord, by your command.”

  Tumaleka turned to Dumakas, “What is so urgent that his Emperor is not free to join in the blood lust?”

  “The Gorech, Laboolaron,” Dumakas answered with spittle exiting his lips.

  “Ah yes,” Tumaleka said, no longer able to contain her slight smirk, “I told you not to trust him, my Grandson.”

  “Silence, old woman!”

  “What of Laboolaron?” Ma’har asked.

  “He shall be executed on sight. My standing orders if he is seen, any warrior shall be authorized to use any force necessary to send him to Revein’sev, once and for all!”

  “Yes, my Lord,” Ma’har again nodded in obedience. “I shall transmit the orders immediately. Come,” Ma’har turned to Captain Revkon, “assist me with preparations. We have much we must do.”

  “Lord Ma’har,” Dumakas interrupted the two as they neared the portal from the Emperor’s chambers, “What is your timeline for your attack?”

  “Twelve hours, my Lord.”

  “Excellent! Keep me posted.”

  Tumaleka turned from Dumakas and spoke in a strange voice, “Seal the doors, instruct the guards not to disturb us! I have business with Dumakas!”

  “What could you have that is of any importance, old woman?”

  “You will see, my Grandson, you will see,” Tumaleka smiled.

  ________________________

  Serintin

  Snow laden Berm

  Valley of Trenches

  ________________________

  Laboolaron made his way across the snow and ice of the Trenches. The drifts and icicles glinted in the early Antarian sun. The wind had diminished and the clouds had cleared from the plummeting temperatures.

  He had tied the dagger to his waist, his only defense in this harsh territory. There were not many creatures braving the outdoors, but the creatures he would encounter would be challenging to defeat if a threat was presented.

  “Must find the nearest province, lest I freeze to death,” he said out loud. “Oh, ancient ones of Revein’sev do not take me as yet. For I know Empress Danielle is alive. I feel her blood song, though it wanes and threatens to vanish completely, I feel she is alive. I ask you, bring he
r to Serintin, I know she is the one. Here me today, ancient ones of Revein’sev, spare my life today that my mission may be completed.”

  Covered in his make-shift furs, he began to see a shadow of a figure in the distance on another trench, and approaching at a fast pace.

  His hand shielding his eyes from the Antarian Sun, Laboolaron labored to see who it was that was braving this frigid climate. At first he was glad to meet another. Then he thought to himself, what if there is a bounty on my head?

  That thought caused him to instinctively pull the dagger and make ready for battle.

  The tall Antarian warrior ran faster through the snow, heading directly for the berm Laboolaron traversed.

  Laboolaron stopped and cupped his other hand around his ear, struggling to hear the faint voice of the approaching warrior. Shaking his head out of frustration, he began to cross down to the next berm. When he reached the top, there was only one more trench between the two Antarians and this time, Laboolaron could hear the warrior’s cry, “Laboolaron! Is that you?”

  “Who are you?” Laboolaron shouted in return.

  “Lord Rotheg! We have come to rescue you!”

  Laboolaron fell to his knees in the snow and gave his arms to the air, “Ancient ones of Revein’sev, answered you have this day!”

  “Lord Laboolaron, you must hurry! Lord Chelek has a shuttle close at hand. I will signal him for a pickup!”

  “Why do you seek me? I know there must be a bounty on my head by now!”

  “Yes, you are correct, Lord Laboolaron, there is a hefty price for you!”

  “What are your intentions, Lord Rotheg?”

  “You should know by now, my old friend, since I addressed you by your proper title.”

  “Yes, yes, I know, Lord Rotheg, what better way for an enemy to make me a fool as you approach?”

  “Empress Danielle’s blood song continues to sing within my veins, as it does within Lord Chelek. It is alright, Lord Laboolaron, you must hurry before we are discovered!”

  The still air was aroused by the thrusters of a shuttle rising from several trenches away. By the time the shuttle began moving towards them, Rotheg stood before Laboolaron.

  Rotheg stared at the dagger Laboolaron held between them. He raised his hands in submission, “My Lord,” he dropped to one knee, “We have truly come to rescue you before Emperor Dumakas’ henchmen find you first!”

  Laboolaron thrust his dagger in the air twice to keep Rotheg at a safe distance.

  “My Lord,” Rotheg pleaded, “You must trust us!”

  The shuttle closed in on the two, the guns of the ship aimed at Laboolaron, he dropped his dagger and raised his hand in the air.

  “You have more firepower than I.”

  The shuttle landed a short distance away and opened the hatch, an anxious Chelek waved at the two, “Hurry, we must leave, now! There are three fighters approaching!”

  Rotheg retrieved the fallen dagger and offered it, handle first, to Laboolaron, “This is yours, my Lord.”

  Laboolaron calmly took the dagger and followed Rotheg to the shuttle.

  The two climbed aboard and Chelek quickly sealed the hatch. The warrior returned to the pilot seat and lifted the shuttle off the berm.

  Strapping into his seat behind the pilot, Laboolaron turned to Rotheg, “Why do you risk saving me?”

  “As I have said, Lord Laboolaron, the Empress’s blood still sings to us.”

  “I thought Lord Chelek was assigned to the ship yards?”

  Chelek briefly turned in his seat, “I am. How do you think I was able to obtain an untraceable shuttle?”

  “Untraceable? What about the fighters’ en-route?”

  “Yes, untraceable, and the fighters were completely accidental.”

  “Have they seen us?”

  “Yes, they are changing course and pursing,” Chelek pushed this throttle control to the stops and raised the ship’s nose to climb away from the area.

  “Can we outrun them?”

  “No, they are gaining. They are calling my ship’s comm. If I do not answer...”

  “...do not, or we all will be sent to Revein’sev this day.”

  “They are arming weapons!”

  “What about out maneuvering?”

  “They are firing missiles!” Chelek instinctively turned the shuttle left and then lowered the nose of the ship to gain as much speed as possible.

  “Lord Chelek, the ground approaches fast!”

  “So do the missiles on our tail!” Chelek pulled back on the stick and flew along a trench. The missiles slammed into the ground. The fireball rising from the ground destroyed one fighter. The two remaining fighters turned hard away from the explosion.

  “We can lose them now!” Chelek said, darting along the trench, hoping to remain hidden between the two Berms.

  Laboolaron nervously looked out his side window and gasped at the speeding ground that flew past.

  “It will be alright, Lord Laboolaron; I am a very seasoned pilot and am used to close proximity.”

  “Very reassuring,” Laboolaron replied.

  “We have lost the other two fighters.”

  “It appears,” Rotheg said, reading his console in front of him, “they are heading back to base. We’re in the clear, Chelek. Set course to our destination.”

  “With pleasure,” Chelek smiled. “See? Undetected!”

  “How is this possible?”

  “I shall tell you all about the advancements of our ship yards soon enough, my Lord. First, we must reach our transceivers and monitor Emperor Dumakas’ next move.”

  “Agreed,” Laboolaron answered. “Where is your transceiver located?”

  “We are situated at a new base located at the bottom of Storm Keep.”

  “Storm Keep! Would not Dumakas look for us there?”

  “No, my Lord, it appears that Dumakas will have nothing more to do with Storm Keep.”

  “Then take us to Storm Keep, post haste!”

  “Yes, my Lord, as you command.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  ________________________

  Earth Orbit

  The Rock

  ________________________

  “Perimeter alert!” Lieutenant Collins shouted, “One hostile Antarian warship has jumped into low orbit below us, Sir!”

  Commander Jameson stood by his command console in the CSC pit, “Stand by and confirm hostile contact!”

  The officer of the deck came to attention, “Admiral on Deck!”

  Jed descended the three steps into the pit and took his place next to his XO, “Stand down General Quarters!”

  “Sir?”

  “Complete your scans, Lieutenant. I’m sure you’ll find the Excalibur close at hand.”

  “Scanning, Sir. No, Sir! Wait...” Lieutenant Collins studied his console, “Yes, the Excalibur has jumped in, Sir. Sorry Sir, standing down General Quarters.”

  The alarms stopped.

  “Good reactions, Lieutenant. I’m glad everyone’s on their toes. I should have arrived at CSC a few minutes sooner to tell you the news myself.”

  Commander Jameson leaned closer to Jed, “The news, Sir?”

  “Sir,” the comm officer interjected, “The Excalibur is hailing us, Sir. It’s Captain Rollins, patching Colonel Jennings through aboard the Antarian ship.”

  “Yes, that’s right Commander,” Jed said, acknowledging Lieutenant Henderson, “We have procured an Antarian Warship. Put him though, Lieutenant.”

  The radio crackled Race’s voice, “Jed, err, Admiral Fitz, we’ve got our ride to Antares...Sir.”

  “Easy Colonel or you’ll bust a gasket. What’s your status?”

  “Status is good, Sir. We’ve got our Antarian crew flying this thing. Danielle is resting next to me and Darnash. Ruki’ is learning how the guidance systems work, and Mister Thelix has manned our weapons systems...”

  “What about our Sasquatch ambassador?”

  “Ambassador? Oh, you mean Mister Go
r’con? He’s here too, Sir. He has a special request, Sir.”

  “That would be the one, Race. Put him on.”

  “This is Gor’con, Leader of the Crimson Guild from the Ma’Getch clan. Admiral Fitz, we cannot reach our goal with only four Antarians and two humans. We must bring with us a full complement.”

  “Well, that’s fine, Ambassador. What did you have in mind?”

  “If you will permit, I shall require one of your transmitters to send a message to my people.”

  “You have comm systems?”

  “Yes and a lot more. We live a simple life; however, we are not devoid of technology.”

  “By all means, Ambassador.”

  “Why do you continue to use this strange title for me?”

  “Well,” Jed began, stroking his chin, “I thought it appropriate considering you are the Sasquatch representative, ‘sides, ‘Ambassador’ is more efficient than ‘Leader of the Crimson Guild of the Ma’Getch clan.’”

  “Yes, I suppose it is, Admiral; I accept this... Ambassador title.”

  “The radios are yours, my friend.”

  “I’ll see to it that it happens, Sir,” Race interjected from behind Gor’con.

  Gor’con grew a slight smile across his fang-ridden mouth, “It is already done.”

  “Huh?” Race exclaimed, “How’d you do that so...fast?”

  “It was a simple matter,” Gor’con began to explain.

  Race listened to the Sasquatch explain to Race when the communications officer broke in, “Ah, Sir?”

  “What is it, Henderson?” Race asked, turning to his comm officer.

  “You’re not going to believe these readings, Sir... Whoa, whoa, whoa, no way!”

  “Report Henderson!”

  “Aye-aye, Sir, it’s just, um, we’re picking up some very strange readings from the surface, Sir.”

  “Explain!”

  “Um, Sir? It’s hundreds of Sasquatch...”

  “Come again, Mister?”

  “It’s the Sasquatch, Sir, there are hundreds of them coming out of the woods and forest, Sir. They seem to be heading to several specific locations across the globe, Sir.”