Heavens of Glory

Chapter IX

Orion woke up early, before the sun of the water planet had risen and its two moons set. He climbed out of bed, wide awake despite the time of day. He slipped into a set of comfortable and loose civilian clothing, enjoying his first liberty of this day, one of the few days off he would get. He left his dorm and walked down the quiet hallway. He reached the end and gently pushed the door open with his hand. He stepped outside into the cool early morning air.
         As the door shut behind him, he became aware of the chirps of bugs in the soft, dew-laden grass. All the windows in the buildings were dark, except for the dining hall, where a soft clatter certified that the cooks were starting up the stoves in anticipation of that morning’s breakfast.
         Orion walked around the building, to where only the ethereal light could reach him. He glanced up at the numerous stars blazing brilliantly next to the two moons, one full, one waxing towards its brother’s state. Orion inhaled the fresh scent of the previous night’s showers, enjoying the sensation of wet grass under his unclad feet. A light flickered to life in the teachers’ dorms. He headed back…

         Orion struggled into consciousness, aware of the stench of charred hair. He reached up and realized that the hair was his own. Gradually he opened his eyes. Before him, he saw black and white stripes stretching away into the distance. As his eyes focused, he managed distinguish the shadows from the light, and located the door at the end of his war.
         He might have laughed, if he could have. His dungeon looked medieval. He could feel the cold of stone under him, and could almost discern the rock with his poor sight on one of the walls which he could see. The other wall housed a column of bars, which looked to be made of iron. Orion tried to turn his head to gain a better view of his surroundings, but groaned in pain and gave up.
         A soft voice sounded behind him, out of his limited field of vision. “Are you awake, Orion?”
         Orion could only groan once more in response as he tried to remember that voice. It was so familiar, yet not. Four hands lifted him gently into a sitting position; now he could see faces. One was human, and the other one was… he couldn’t remember what species the other one was. Lenoi? Nothas? Something like that. Oh well, he’d worry about it tomorrow. Orion felt consciousness slip out of his grasp once again, and he gratefully fell back into painless sleep.

*           *          *

         Tournia’s small fighter hurled out of hyper-space not far from the borders of the Phoenician Empire, if it could be called that. She marveled, as she had done so often before, at how improperly the translator chip worked sometimes. For really, the translator chip just gave ideas, and it was her own mind that found the most adequate word to put with those ideas.
         A small light flashed on her console, indicating that she was being hailed. She pushed a button directly under the light and a small screen on the panel lit up and showed a Phoenician face.
          “What is your business, Alliance, and why do you use a Federation vessel?” the reptile demanded.
          “I wish to talk with some of your scientists about a trip to the Andromeda Galaxy. This is not an official Alliancic mission. Actually, the Alliance doesn’t want me here, so I had to take one of the Federation vessels they had impounded, because it was the only thing that wasn’t guarded well that could outrun most of their ships.”
          “If your mission is unlawful, then what incentive do we have to let you pass? We do not wish to cause problems with your faction.”
          “The Alliance war machine is currently, as it always has been, concerned only with fighting the Union. The Warring branch won’t attack you. As for incentive, I can offer you none, except for the very basic principles of your community: to spread knowledge to those who seek it. I desire knowledge of how to gain access to the Andromeda.”
          “The Alliance, unless I’m mistaken, already has a means of getting to our sister galaxy.”
          “It was captured by Elbulgars, members of the Union. They would never let us through.”
          “Very well. You have clearance to enter, but you shall be watched carefully.” As the elongated head disappeared from view, Tournia moved her attention to the navigation controls. She noticed that the coordinates were changing slowly, and looked up to see a Phoenician battlecruiser tractoring her ship into Phoenician territory.
          “Well, that was easy enough,” she mused to herself. “Now I wonder if they have a travel guide, and where I can get the info I need.” She shrugged, and settled back for the ride. She knew that she had no where to go, so it didn’t really matter where the battlecruiser pulled her. She had to start somewhere.

*           *          *

         Maria woke up to see white all around her. As her eyes became focused to the brightness, she began to discern the shapes of the window and bed stand, the white-marble floor and smoothly polished walls. A nurse was sitting beside her bed.
          “How are you feeling,” the attendant asked her, seeing her eyes open.
          “Fine. A little tired, I suppose.”
          “That’s perfectly normal. You’ve recovered wonderfully. There should be no long term effects of the oxygen deprivation.”
         Maria nodded. “How long since the ship landed?”
          “Six hours. You were sleeping onboard the vessel for an hour before that.”
          “When can I leave the hospital? I need to go make my report.”
          “You can leave now, but I wouldn’t recommend making any hyperspace jumps anytime soon. They might be a little disorienting for a while. But you may want to get some more sleep before you leave. You’ll probably feel rather drowsy for a day or two.”
         Maria tried to acknowledge the nurse, but she blinked, and when she opened her eyes the clock read two hours later. She must have fallen back asleep.
         She stood up, yawning. She found a pair of slippers by her bed and headed to the washroom to change back into her normal clothes.
         Back in more customary clothing, she walked out of the hospital, signing out at the front desk. As she stepped into the crowded streets, she tried to orient herself. She could see the space port a few grasecs in the distance, which meant that she wasn’t in the military hospital, which was immediately next to the port. She checked her watch: it was almost five pm. The sun was on her left, which meant that she was south of the military complex. At least she could now tell which district she was in.
         A sudden roar of the crowd lining the roads caught her attention. She caught of sight of a ground transport rounding the bend. It had the standard of the Triumvirs imprinted on the front. She knew what that meant: one or more of the Alliancic Leaders were passing through from the spaceport, which meant that she was on Westord Avenue, which lead directly to the Curia. She headed off in the direction of the military complex, where she could be debriefed and given a temporary room.
         When she arrived at the military complex, Maria flashed her identification at the guard and walked past. She headed to the front desk immediately inside the entranceway, and told the secretary on duty, “My name is Maria Vieny, I was on the Caleb when it was shot down during the battle with the Secondwave.”
          “Ah, yes. The Admiral was expecting you. He’s at a conference at the moment, but he should be back any minute.”
          “Thank you. Also, I would like some temporary quarters until I can get back to duty.”
          “Very well. Here’s a key to the rooms. It will unlock any room not currently in use.”
          “I know the drill. Can you alert me when Admiral Hadrmagar gets back?”
          “Of course.”
         Maria walked off into Section C of the complex, where all of the temporary housings were. She found a room with the green vacant LED lit up on the lock, and went in. What little belongings she had traveled with when she left her home on the water planet were destroyed with the Caleb, so she had nothing to unpack. That was something else to think about. She would need a second uniform, which she could ask the military for at any time, and a few sets of civilian clothes, as well as a few other items. She would have visit the business district as soon as she was debriefed.
         Maria settled in and waited.

*           *          *

         Carla stepped out in front of the Curia as the transport stopped. Neo and Sal stepped out behind her. She saw that the transport of the Admirals stationed on Toan was already parked not far from their own. She wondered if Tash would be here. The Warleader preferred to keep his location secret from the public eye, so Carla could never be sure if he was even on Toan at any given time.
         She dusted off her suit and walked alongside the other two Triumvirs. As they approached the massive wooden doors, they swung open to allow them admittance. The three Alliancic Leaders walked on towards the conference room, a path which they knew well. Inside were six judges from the Supreme Court, the Speaker of the Senate, four Admirals, one of which was Hadrmagar, and Carla Laos was pleased to see that Warleader Tash was indeed present.
         Neo, Sal, and Carla sat down at the head of the wide table.
          “We are here,” Sal began, “because there are many matters which all three branches need to talk about, and which have been kept secret by some of the branches from the other two.” Neo looked pointedly at Tash. “Because in our government, the Executive, Cricular, and Warring branches were designed to counteract each other, we have come to the conclusion that they cannot do so properly unless all secrets are out in the open. We have therefore decided that we shall, from now on, call a meeting of each of the three branches once every two inner months, and shall in this way stay informed of the workings of each of the other branches.”
          “To start,” Neo picked up, “we would like the Warring branch to inform the Judicial, as well as the parts of the Executive branch that have not already learned of this, that is, the Senate, of some of the recent developments in the fight.”
         Neo nodded to Warleader Tash, who paused for a few moments, then began: “As you probably know, we have recently launched a massive attack against the Union at the advice of the Alliancic leaders. This attack was designed to penetrate the Union defensive lines, which it did quite beautifully, utilizing a new weapon called the EMP-RF bomb. The attack was then intended to find and destroy the First and Second waves of the Elbulgar fleet. The Elbulgars had recently signed a treaty with the Union, becoming full fledged members of our enemy faction, and had launched two fleets against us, the first, which we intercepted and destroyed, would have attacked Toan directly. The second aimed at our new Farshot Catapult. Against this second fleet, we lost utterly.
          “I see that many of you do not recognize the term ‘farshot catapult’,” he continued, reluctantly, after a short pause. “It is a machine designed to launch a ship to the Andromeda Galaxy in a matter of weeks, instead of years. We made a deal with the Federation to build the catapult. The exact details of this I shall send to you after we adjourn this meeting. However, because the second wave was not successfully stopped, the catapult fell into Union hands before we could send a colony ship through, stranding one of our own ships which had been sent there for reconnaissance.”
          “Thank you, Warleader Tash,” Carla said as soon as she was sure that he was finished. “Now, we, the Triumvirs of the Alliance, have a proposal to make, both to this council, and to the entire Alliance of Five.” She stressed the word ‘five’ just barely enough to be noticed. “As you all know, when the Scythers first encountered the Felons, they had with them a species called the Motwise. The Motwise, the equivalent of chimpanzees to humans, had been kept by the Scythers as pets when they were forced to flee from the Zip region due to the massive war occurring there, causing their three planets to be destroyed.
          “Almost four centuries ago, the Motwise were discovered to be truly sentient. Before then, they had been known to be semi-sentient, but nothing more. Since this discovery, they have been included in our schools, military, even government, yet have not officially been part of the Alliance.” Carla began to speak slowly, giving the profoundness of what she saying time to sink in. “Now, because of all the support, devotion, and contributions which they have given to the Alliance, the three Triumvirs agree that the Motwise should, at long last, be annexed into the Alliance, forming the Alliance of Six.
          “This, of course need not be presented to all of you first, but we thought that it would be prudent to inform you of our intentions before we put this to a full castoral vote. We await your response.”

*           *          *

         Orion sat in the small cell with Eguria and Seedo. His numerous pains had long since faded into a dull headache. A small grating at the bottom of the door was pushed open and a bowl of water was shoved through. Eguria moved forward and retrieved the vessel. She offered it to Orion, who refused. Seedo took it and swallowed a small sip.
          “So, we’re trapped in an archaic prison, by a dirtside species with nuclear technology and a massive slave trade, for which we are more than likely destined.” Orion spoke in the Warrior’s Tongue, an ancient Felonian language which did not follow any of the basic rules of grammar implemented by the translator chip, and thus had no easy way of being translated by someone who didn’t know how to speak it. Orion had made the decision not long after he had awoken to use as much caution as possible, and thus the Warrior’s tongue was the best way to go. “We cannot establish contact with the Neyna, which means they either left orbit or were shot down. We have thus far been completely starved, both of food and of contact with the outside world, and we have absolutely no assets whatsoever. So, where do we go from here?”
         Seedo shook his head. Eguria said, dismally, “I guess we just have to wait. Nothing else to do at this point.” Orion nodded, then lay back. A guard passed by the barred door, knocking on the bars with a stick. Further down the passageway, someone coughed, and the gentle dropping of water reverberated throughout the dungeons in an irregular ping, breaking the empty silence. The small window near the top of the back wall admitted no light, and the only source of illumination came from the few dim bulbs placed in the gray hallway.
         Orion consulted the gold neckband which held the microcomputer. It was 1600 hours, in standard military time. Roughly half a standard hour before the foreign sun would rise. The captain closed his eyes and tried once again to contact the Neyna, then sent out a distress call on the higher frequencies, which he hoped that this race didn’t yet use.
         Orion shook his head despondently. The transmitter implant, which connected him to the neckband, had probably been damaged, which was not a good thing. It was located at the back of the skull, linked to the actual computer and all of the other electronic implants installed in his skull by a network of nerves leading to a small output in the back of his neck, and had probably been bumped just enough during the impact to shatter one of the microscopic components. Hopefully they wouldn’t destroy any of the nearby nerves.
         A small shaft of light streaked through the window, illuminating all the dust floating in the air and marking the break of dawn. A guard came by the door, accompanied by another of the photosynthesizing aliens. They spoke a few words which Orion could only barely understand, pointed at the three captives for a few moments, then broke into a small squabble. Eventually they seemed to settle the dispute, and the two left, leaving the prisoners to wonder as to the meaning of the dialogue.
         Something sounding not unlike a frog sounded in the distance in response to the rising of the second sun. Another guard came to their door. He took out an octagonal card and pressed it to the lock on the cell door. The grating slid to the side, and the guard entered, with three sets of hand-restraints.
         Orion whispered to his companions in the warrior's tongue.
         "Nic se il"
         Do Nothing Yet
         The guard looked at him quizzically, then continued to cuff them. Once all three of them were restrained, he marched them out of the cell. They walked down a corridor lined with other cells such as their own until they reached a stairwell leading upwards. The guard prodded them on, and the group turned up the narrow shaft. Three-hundred sixty steps, Orion counted, with a height of about nine inches each. Two hundred seventy feet beneath the first floor, which was presumably at ground level. Why so deep?
         They stepped out in front of the installation. Orion blinked in the bright early-morning sunlight which greeted them. They were at the very edge of the habitable part of the planet. Looking to the left, Orion could just barely make out the green vegetation. Everything else was red and brown. In the distance was a dust storm, which explained the depth. Even from here the wind was fierce, and if the ground had not been solid rock, the complex would be covered in dust as well, and could easily have penetrated the facility if it wasn’t so deep.
         The guard uttered something in his own tongue, which Orion’s translator chip rendered as meaning go there. Orion moved over to the transport at which the guard pointed. The guard opened the door and shoved the three captives inside, shutting and locking the device from the outside. He stepped into the front compartment, separated from theirs by a clear wall, and the transport powered up. It lifted about a marsec off the ground, turned a full hundred-eighty degrees, then headed towards the vegetated city at supersonic speeds.
         The transport stopped at a large tarmac somewhere in the largest city. Three guards waited as it powered down and rested on the ground. One opened the door, while the other two pulled the three hostages out of the vehicle and forced them to walk down the tarmac to where a large crowd had gathered.
         As they approached the gathering, Orion made out the distinct sound of an auction. In the middle of the mob was a raised platform, on which stood one of the green aliens in front of six other people, three of which were Carlexi; the others were from the native population. All of these six were dressed in a dark brown cloth.
         Orion spoke to his companions.
         If we are separated, try to get back to ship as soon as possible.
         The noise of the crowd grew steadily as they got closer. As Orion watched, two of the Carlexi were led off the platform and towards a nearby building, followed by one of the aliens in the crowd.
         The guard prodded him in the pack, pushing him, along with his two companions, up onto the wooden structure. They waited there, viewed by the entire crowd, as the other four slaves were given away one by one. Eventually the three of them were pushed towards the front. Orion closed his eyes and shut out the sounds of the translator chip- he didn’t care to hear how much he was worth to these dirt-huggers. His mind began to wander back to his small estate on the planet Frist. The droids would probably be planting the squash seeds about now, and selling the remains of the critlich harvest from the previous month in order to buy whatever they needed to maintain themselves and the household. Orion had only been there for a few months at a time, adding up to less than three years throughout his entire life, but it was home, nonetheless. Or at least, the closest thing to home he had. Besides the Neyna.
         Orion opened his eyes as he was prodded off the platform. “Guess we’ve been sold, then,” he muttered to himself. He turned around to get a final glance at Seedo and Eguria before they were sold as well, but found them on either side of him, being pushed towards the same building as he was. Eguria gave him a slight wink, indicating things would be just fine. Apparently she had been paying attention.
         They arrived at the adobe structure and were placed in a small room. The only furniture in the place was a table, probably for finalizing the trade. Two of the natives arrived after a few seconds.
          “A hundred thousand, Shpil,” the first one said. “that’s a hefty amount. You sure you can afford it?”
          “If I say I can, I can,” Shpil replied.
         The first went around to the far side of the table. “Let’s see it, then.”
         Shpil pulled out a small pouch from the bag he held at his side. He heaved it onto the table, as if it weighed an enormous amount. Orion made out the delicate clink of metal as it came to a rest.
         The first opened up the bag and pulled out a small coin. Orion’s eyes widened slightly at the unmistakable gleam of platinum. “I assume it’s pure?”
          “Of course.”
         Orion did a small calculation in his head. A bag that size, filled with pure platinum, would probably weigh about eighty pounds- eighty pounds of platinum!
“I’m not going to ask where you got all this, or why you’re carrying it around with you. But if it’s really a hundred thousand, we can finish the contract.” The first native pulled out a small scale and emptied the contents of the bag onto it. The scale gave a beep, and the native nodded. “Good enough.” He pulled out a piece of paper and handed it over to the second native.
         The buyer pulled out a pen from his bag and made a mark on the paper, then used the pen to dig out a small amount of skin from his fingertip. He folded the skin into the paper and handed it over to the first. Orion noticed that the skin regenerated within a few seconds. That meant that if he ever needed to kill one of these people, the first shot would have to be lethal, or it wouldn’t do much damage to them. The first nodded, received the paper and the skin, and left with the pouch, reloaded with the platinum.
         The remaining native turned towards his new property. The green tentacle on the back of his head, which hung down like a pony-tail, waved like the tail of a happy dog.
          “Hello.”
         None of the three spoke in reply.
          “Oh, of course, the restraints. I’ve always said you can’t have a civilized conversation if you can’t have civilized movement.” He moved to undue each of the cuffs. He threw them on the table once they were off.
         Shpil looked at them a moment, then spoke again. “Well, I guess I can’t blame you for your silence. I have to admit, I wouldn’t like being sold either.”
         He looked at them a second longer, then continued. “Well, here’s the basic round-down of things. My master runs a school, which teaches Denesecs about the alien cultures which we know exist, preparing them for the day when they shall travel abroad to meet those cultures in person. Now, our xenophobic government claims that this school is bordering on heresy and treason, but we do just fine, without bureaucratic support. Since we’re the only school in the Six Kingdoms with our type of policy, we have a hefty attendance, and a hefty reputation. The parents (Orion’s translator chip had trouble with the translation of that word- he got a sense that it meant something like ‘origins’ or ‘creators’ more than ‘parents’) of those that attend generally give us plenty of fiscal support, so money is not usually a problem for us…”
         He paused. “Hmm, you’re probably tired and famished, I’ll get you back to the school. You can eat there- ah, you do eat, of course?”
         Orion decided it was finally time to speak. “We do.”
         Shpil waved his tail-tentacle again. “Wonderful! Shall we get going, then?” He opened the door and waited for the three of them to exit, then led them out of the building and towards the large concrete area that Orion thought of as the community parking lot.
         The dusty wind of the planet continued to blow through the now-empty square. The two suns stood high in the light-blue sky, heating up the already scorching planet, and forcing the tenants to find shelter from its burning heat in the dark recesses of their homes.

*           *          *

         Scarth stood in the mess deck, having landed the Stingray next to the Neyna, surrounded by the twelve other survivors of the crash. He looked around at the remnants of the crew.
          “Our first priority is to figure out what happened to the away team. Spar managed to find a heat signature leading away from the wreckage of the shuttle towards a small structure a few grasecs from here. From there, another heat signature leads towards one of the cities. Tano, Sel, and I shall take the Stingray to that city and try to track down Seedo, Eguria, and the captain.” The comm and operations officers nodded.
          “Until we get back, Chief Engineer Tom Yuir is in command. You must focus on repairing the engines and power core, and sealing off the compromised sections of the ship. We need to get space-worthy again. Use whatever resources you need to do this. Dismissed.”
         Scarth, Tano, and Sel found their way to the primary weapons locker. “Body armor, everyone,” Scarth ordered. They each got their scarred poly-carbon suits from the closet and suited up, then armed themselves with everything from demi-lasers to advanced pulse rifles. Scarth strapped the energy pack for his pulse rifle to his back, then checked the rest of his gear, securing it tightly to wherever it needed to be.
          “We not gonna go in there un-announced. We need to make them know that we out-power anything they got. If that means we take a few lives, so be it. They’ve taken some of ours already. You are hereby authorized to any force necessary to make them respect us. Don’t be afraid to pay them back.” The two black-covered bodies nodded, then they boarded the Stingray.
         Scarth raised the shields, then lifted the fighter into the air. “Tano, see if you can figure out which building is the capital.”
         Tano nodded, then set the computer to search for a few key words in the audio transmissions from each structure. Scarth moved the fighter forward towards the city while Tano worked.
          “I’ve got it, Scarth. I’m sending the specs over to your console.”
         Scarth nodded when he received the information, and changed the course of the Stingray so that it headed directly for the building, increasing the speed as he did. “Here’s the plan you two: I’ll land us right in front of that building. We march in there as militaresque as we can. We blow down the front door- don’t bother opening it. We demand to see whoever is in charge, and anyone who refuses to tell us we shoot on the spot. If anyone gets in our way, shoot them. If you seen anyone who looks like they’re about to raise a gun, shoot them. This is a hostile encounter against a hostile species. The only people who you don’t shoot is anyone who looks like they’re holding a camera. We want the whole world to see us. Is that understood?”
The other two nodded grimly. This was going to be gruesome.
“Ok, one minute until we land. Get ready to pile out.”

         Civilians looked up from the streets as the strange craft flew overhead, pointing and wondering at it. When it slowed to a walking speed, they followed under it, gossiping about this strange occurrence. Most of them had never seen an alien craft, or an alien. The closest they had ever come to such a strange phenomenon was seeing a Carlex, which, the government informed them, came from a small region at the inhospitable far end of the world. Now they looked up and wondered at this new appearance, which didn’t resemble anything they had ever seen fly in their skies. When the strange craft began to descend in front of the capital building, they all gathered around, making a small place for it to land.
         They heard the small whine of electricity from the craft slow down and stop, and they congregated around it, waiting for something to happen.
They didn’t have long to wait. A small opening appeared in the smooth side. A couple of people awed as it opened, some cheered. No one expected what happened next.
         Three figures jumped out. Two were on two legs, like the Denesecs themselves, but the third walked on four legs. They were completely black except for the visors on their heads, which reflected the bright light of the two suns, and moved with loud steps. Some people moved forward to greet them, but the three strangers pushed roughly through the crowd, hurling some people to the side, kicking others out of their way. The congregated Denesecs eventually made an aisle for them, leading up to the doors of the building, curious at these malicious shovers. The two bipeds stopped a distance from the doors, but the quadruped continued towards the building.
         When he arrived at the doors, a couple civilians moved to open them, but he ignored them, and pulled a small device from his back, clamping it onto the doors. He took a couple steps back, then waited. For two seconds, nothing happened. Just as the people were starting to wonder if they should do something, the device exploded. The blast rushed around the heavily-armored quadruped, leaving him unscathed, but nearby Denesecs flew into the air, dead. Some were protected from the shock wave by those around them, but most that stood near the doors suffered severe burns. The frightened people in the back, who were out of the blast radius, saw the three figures move into the cloud of ash where the doors had been only a few seconds before.
         The frightened desk clerk in the atrium sat completely still behind her counter when the doors blew. She saw three dark figures appear out of the dusty gloom and approach towards her desk. They stopped a few feet away and looked at her for a few seconds.
         The foremost one raised an arm to his head, and the visor disappeared into the black helmet so the clerk could see his bright, strange eyes surrounded by blue, fuzzy fur. They locked gazes for a brief period- a time which seemed like an eternity to the clerk- and then the stranger gave a slight chuckle and spoke in a very strange accent:
          “Take me to your leader.”