Origin Equation

by Charles F Millhouse

  “You expect any of us to believe this tale of yours?” Quinton asked. “Da’Mira may be a lot of things but she’s not a mass murderer. Whatever everyone’s feelings are, they know my sister is not capable of such an act.”

  “Of course, you’d defend her,” Brandon Hyguard snarled. “But we know she had some hand in the explosion at the breeding facility in Dalnaspidal and killed a number of people. Your father managed to spirit her away before she could stand for that crime.”

  Quinton slammed his hand on the tabletop and exclaimed, “I will not sit here and listen to these slurs against my sister. You’ve all condemned her, before she has had a chance to defend herself.”

  “That will be impossible since she died during the attack, her remains are on the planet surface with both ships and both crews,” Gregaor recounted. “She died in disgrace, and deservedly so.”

  Commotion outside the chamber quieted everyone in the room. All eyes turned to the door when it swooshed open to find Commander Martin in its frame. Haggard, blood streamed from his right eye and marred his face. Panting like a wild animal he stood over the bodies of two Orlander security men.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Avery demanded.

  Martin stood at attention and stepped aside allowing access into the room.

  “Who dares spread lies of the Tannadors.”

  Quinton rose from his chair and exclaimed, “Da’Mira!”

  Tannador House

  Home of Family Tannador

  High Earth Orbit

  October 20, 2442

  When Da’Mira arrived on Tannador House she was met by a short, bright-eyed young woman in her mid-twenties who introduced herself as Tori O’Ness, Quinton’s personal assistant. She escorted Da’Mira to the upper deck of the orbital platform, remaining tightlipped on the long lift ride to the family living chambers. Da’Mira saw tension in Tori’s charcoal eyes as if she wanted to say something but chose not to.

  “What did you say your name was again?”

  “Tori, Milady. How can I serve you?”

  Da’Mira looked at her attire. She still wore the same dirty, smelly coveralls that she put on before her journey in the cavern under Shin’nor’ee. They reeked of weeks of sweat, dirt and dead insectoid goo. She noticed Tori’s sour expression and with a hitched smile, said, “I’ll need to shower and have clean clothes. Nothing extravagant. Slacks and a tunic will do.”

  “Should I have some body paint programed into the shower, Milady,” Tori asked.

  At one time Da’Mira wouldn’t have been caught out in public without having her skin tinted in some exotic color. On an expedition there was no call for that, and over the last several months it was a relief not to worry about how she looked, or who she needed to impress. “No,” she said. “A tint will not be necessary. I’m sure my father would approve, anyway. He never liked it when I colored my skin.”

  Tori averted her eyes to the floor and replied, “Yes, ma’am.”

  Da’Mira offered a smile, and asked, “Have you worked for my brother long?”

  “For several weeks,” Tori responded offering a smile of her own – her eyes still looking at the floor.

  “You must have impressed my father, he’s known for not hiring young assistants, claims them unreliable.”

  Tori didn’t offer a reply and rushed out of the elevator ahead of Da’Mira when the doors slid open.

  Da’Mira followed Tori out of the lift but stopped just short of the doors. There was a feeling in the air she couldn’t describe. Being someplace familiar, yet foreign at the same time. There was something amiss, something out of place. Her heart dropped into her stomach.

  “Where is my father?” Da’Mira asked when she stepped further into the room.

  Tori’s face bled white and she said, “He’s... unavailable.”

  Da’Mira eyed the young lady. Tori knew her place when it came to protocol and wouldn’t speak out of turn if not prompted.

  “Where is my brother, then?” Da’Mira asked.

  Apprehensive, Tori replied, “He, he is on Watchtower at a Union meeting Milady.”

  Odd, Da’Mira thought. Union meetings are for family heads and... she paused and eyed Tori. “Tori, where is my father?”

  “It is not my place to answer that Milady. I think you should speak with Lord Tannador.”

  Da’Mira took a step close to Tori, and said, “I’m going to become rather cross with you, Tori, unless you answer my question. Where is my father?”

  Tori drew her downtrodden eyes up to Da’Mira and in a subdued voice said, “Lord Hek’Dara passed away almost two weeks ago, Milady.”

  The room blurred, and Da’Mira couldn’t breathe. Time stopped and the room spun around her. This was news she hadn’t even considered. Her father was too stubborn to die, or at least she thought. Her skin was icy, and the palms of her hands wet, like dead fish. Her mind a jumble of memories, she couldn’t remember the last thing she and her father said to one another. That’s not important. She thought.

  Da’Mira eyed Tori. The young aide was speaking to her, but Da’Mira didn’t hear a word she was saying. She absorbed the news of Hek’Dara’s death, but she didn’t know how to process that information. She swallowed in a cottony throat, finally able to take a breath.

  “...Reported you were dead.”

  Da’Mira’s eyes focused on Tori and she arched an eyebrow and asked, “What did you say?”

  “Lord Xavier, Milady. He reported you dead along with the entire crew of Requiem,” Tori said. “He’s giving his statement in front of the Union Council now. Supposedly his exploration ship was destroyed too, and he’s claiming to be the sole survivor.”

  Da’Mira shoved the thought of her father’s death to the back of her mind. Gregaor was back on Earth. Requiem wasn’t destroyed, and she had no idea what happened to the Seeker. It was assumed it came back to Earth. But if it was believed to be destroyed... it was needed elsewhere.

  “It was needed elsewhere,” Da’Mira whispered.

  “Milady?”

  A hundred scenarios ran through Da’Mira’s mind, and they all came to one conclusion, a conclusion that sent ripples of cold pinpricks up her spine. If Gregaor was here that meant... “Tori I need a Monarch shuttle prepped in five minutes to take me over to Watchtower.” This needs to be sorted out quickly.

  The shuttle ride took forever to make the cross between Tannador House and Watchtower. Flight delays because of traffic, or orbital debris made the trip seem longer then the journey from Shin’nor’ee.

  “They’re holding us at the outer marker,” the pilot said. “We are fifth in order to land.”

  Impatient and running out of time, Da’Mira ordered the pilot to forego any landing procedures. “I need to get to that meeting due haste,” she commanded. “Make no announcement that I’m on board but get me on that platform now.”

  “It will be difficult. There are five ships in front of us.”

  “This shuttle moves doesn’t it? Fly around them,” Da’Mira commanded.

  The pilot replied with a, “Yes, Milady,” and throttled the shuttle to full power. Alarms blared from the Watcheye but given the fact the shuttle was a High-Born vessel the warning didn’t mean much.

  A communication came over the shuttle’s com-link commanding them to hold position, but Da’Mira commanded, “Ignore it and land this ship.”

  Again, the pilot replied, “Yes, Milady.”

  More audio messages came over the link, but the pilot switched the system off. The shuttle rocketed past the ships in front of it – those vessels were so close, Da’Mira saw the texture of the hulls in every detail.

  “Do we have to fly so close to these ships?” Da’Mira asked.

  “If we want to remain in the window of Watchtower’s landing bay, yes... we do,” the pilot replied. “It’s going to be a rough landing. Buckle in tight, Milady!”

  Da’Mira braced herself, holding tight onto her belt straps.

  “Here we go...” the p
ilot exclaimed.

  Da’Mira was thrown forward, the seatbelt cut across her chest. She grabbed air as she reached out in front of her, trying to find something to hold on to. The ship shuddered violently, and she was shoved back into her seat. The room spun out of control, before coming to a stop.

  Sirens whined outside the shuttle, steam misted outside the window. Disoriented, Da’Mira unstrapped and pushed herself up out of her seat. Her legs like rubber, she steadied herself on the railing next to her. “Are you alright?” she asked the pilot.

  “We’re lucky we didn’t take out half of the landing bay when we came in,” the pilot said.

  “But we didn’t,” Da’Mira replied.

  “We’re going to be in a lot of trouble for this.”

  “I daresay,” Da’Mira replied in an uncaring tone. All she cared about was getting to the Union chamber.

  No one stopped Da’Mira when she stepped off the shuttle. Deck crews were too busy trying to contain the fires caused by the crashing shuttle. Those who did recognize her didn’t try and stop a High-Born. Their anger would be saved for the pilot of the shuttle.

  In the elevator, Da’Mira took a moment to gather her thoughts. If Gregaor was here, and his ship wasn’t, it led her to believe that after leaving the planet, Uklavar hitched a ride on the Seeker and Gregaor was under the beast’s influence. From what Da’Mira learned about Uklavar from Origin, he had the ability to persuade those around him to join his cause, that what he fought for was just. Gregaor could be easily manipulated, his addiction to Gold proved that.

  The lift doors opened, and Da’Mira was stopped at its threshold by a black armored Orlander security man. “You don’t have authorization to be on this level. Get back in the elevator.”

  Xavier telecom cameras buzzed around the guards, Da’Mira blocked their beaming bright lights with her hand as she eyed the guard and said, “I am the Lady Da’Mira Tannador. What right do you have to stop me?”

  The security man’s eyes hardened behind his goggles, and his voice darkened, and said, “Only council members are allowed on this level regardless of rank or standing, so back in the elevator... now.”

  Da’Mira noticed a fair-haired man dressed in a different uniform approach to her left. Two of the telecom devices buzzed around him, televising his every move. Da’Mira gave him a cautionary glance but stood her ground. “Again, I am Lady Tannador and you will allow me to pass.”

  “I will have you forcibly removed if you persist ma’am.”

  Infuriated at being called Ma’am, Da’Mira drew a breath, but before she could protest further, the fair-haired trooper said, “Milady. I am Martin, Lord Tannador’s personal guard. If I can be of assistance.”

  The floating telecoms focused on Da’Mira and the young officer. She tried to ignore their annoying presence, but their blinding lights were distracting. She grimaced and studied Martin for a moment. His blue eyes were trusting, and given the fact she was getting nowhere with the Orlander man, she said, “If you’re my brother’s personal guard, that places you as protector of all Tannadors, does it not?”

  “It does Milady,” Martin replied.

  “Martin, it’s imperative that I get into that council meeting, can you help me with that?”

  Martin delivered a flat-handed chop to the Orlander man’s neck. When the man’s hands went to his throat, Martin threw a punch into the man’s midsection and then another flat handed blow to the back of his neck. Before he hit the floor, two other members of the security force scrambled forward, and Martin charged them.

  The Xavier cameras spun up high to get a better view of the action – beaming the clash throughout the orbital platforms. Undoubtably the viewers hadn’t seen this kind of action on their screens for some time. It’s about time the people learn what is going on here. Da’Mira thought.

  Martin flew through the air, hitting the first guard with a tremendous WHACK. Both of them went to the floor, but Martin cushioned his fall atop the man, shoving his knee into the guard’s neck. The final security officer kicked Martin across the face. Blood spattered from his eye and he dropped to the floor.

  Da’Mira stumbled forward to help, but the first man Martin had attacked grabbed her by the ankle. He crawled up her leg like a child and Da’Mira struggled to keep upright. His weight overwhelming, she repositioned herself and stomped on the man’s face with the heel of her boot, aiming for the part that wasn’t covered by helmet or goggles. There was a crunch under her foot and the man’s grip slacked and Da’Mira pulled her leg away from him.

  Staggered and disoriented for a second, Da’Mira turned to help Martin, but he was already headed for the council chamber door and she followed. She heard Avery Lexor demand, “What is the meaning of this?”

  Even if she had just met Martin, she regarded him as a loyal man, someone who would do what was called of him. He stood at attention just outside the chamber door and stepped aside allowing her access into the room.

  “Who dares spread lies of the Tannadors,” Da’Mira challenged. The sound of shutters clicking from the telecom devices broke through the silence of the Union chamber.

  Quinton rose from his chair and exclaimed, “Da’Mira!”

  Avery Lexor and the other council members rose to their feet as well.

  Da’Mira walked into the room, all eyes locked on her every movement like gunsights ready to fire. Everyone except Gregaor Xavier who averted his eyes to the tabletop. Da’Mira focused on him, studying him and daring him to look at her.

  “Da’Mira I...”

  Da’Mira raised a hand silencing Quinton and stopped next to him, her focus still on Gregaor.

  “I demand to know what is happening,” Avery Lexor shouted. “I should have you arrested for arriving in such a manner, not to mention the charges for the destruction of the breeding facility still hanging over your head.”

  Not taking her eyes off Gregaor, Da’Mira leveled her voice and in a business tone, said, “There are more important things to discuss than a destroyed breeding facility.”

  “You’re not one bit concerned that all the evidence points to you,” Lucinda asked.

  Da’Mira glanced at Lucinda, and said, “Your son is the enemy here, not me.”

  “Da’Mira...” Quinton warned in a muted breath.

  “Explain yourself Lady Tannador,” Jackman Pike said.

  “You’re trying to divert the attention from yourself,” Havashaw Orlander barked. “I will not be duped or get caught up in your head games. I demand she be placed in custody at once.”

  “I second the motion,” Brandon Hyguard said.

  “Let’s give her time to explain what she’s doing here,” Warner Cromwell declared. “She must be held accountable, that is true. But she came here at personal risk and I for one would like to know why.”

  The Everhart proxy cleared her throat and drew everyone’s attention to her. With her finger placed to her ear, listening intently, she said, “The Lady Everhart concurs with Lord Cromwell’s statement. She would like to know why Da’Mira is here.”

  “She is clearly after the dignity of my House. She should be locked up,” Lucinda said.

  It was at that moment that Da’Mira heard something different in Lucinda’s voice. She didn’t know Gregaor’s mother well, but there was an even monotone level to her voice. Suspicious, she wondered, Is Uklavar influencing her too... is the beast here on Earth? She grimaced.

  “There is a precedent to be upheld,” Jackman Pike said. “Until she can prove her innocence, I think Da’Mira should be held in custody.”

  Angered at her actions, Da’Mira wished she would have thought things through before charging into the chamber. If she would have taken time to talk to her brother, together they could have figured out how to approach the Union. Time was of the utmost concern. Especially if Uklavar was on Earth. It was a time to rally a defense. If that is even possible, she thought.

  “Give her time to speak,” Carmela Anders added her voice to the discussion. “T
here should be an account if Da’Mira is guilty. She should have a chance to tell us how and why she is here.”

  “According to Lord Xavier the Requiem and the Seeker were destroyed and everyone killed, I for one would like to know why he lied to us,” Quinton said.

  “It’s a tied vote,” Havashaw Orlander said eyeing Avery. “It’s your judgement call. I think it should be the right one – one your mother would have made.”

  Avery rolled his nose at Havashaw’s statement and asked sharply, “How would you know how my mother would have voted?”

  Havashaw Orlander threw out his chest like a prancing rooster and said, “She and I had a rapport, I knew how she would think and act.”

  Avery’s mouth split open into a wide toothy grin. “My mother saw you as nothing more than a subordinate who carried out her orders,” he said. “A lacky, is what she called you, if I remember correctly.”

  “I will not take such verbal abuse from you.”

  Now Avery threw his chest out pridefully and said, “I am head of this council, and as chair, I must weigh all the facts at hand. Da’Mira came here under great personal risk, and I for one would like to know why. I vote she has that chance to speak, and we should ask why ,Lord Xavier clearly lied to us.”

  “Aren’t you going to say something, Mother?” Gregaor asked.

  “No,” Lucinda replied. “I’ve changed my mind and agree with Lord Lexor. Let’s hear what Da’Mira has to say and why you lied to us about the destruction of the ships.”

  Gregaor looked up at Da’Mira, he acted as if he was going to say something but pressed his lips together instead.

  “Lady Tannador, the floor is yours,” Avery said.

  Da’Mira drew a breath. She hadn’t thought things this far ahead and had no idea what she was going to say to convince the Union of what had happened to her expedition team. But after a few seconds of contemplation she decided to tell the truth, no matter how farfetched it sounded. “What I’m about to say, will sound amazing and unbelievable, but everything I am about to tell you is the truth, and if not taken seriously could mean the end to all human life in the galaxy.”