Promises & Prophecies Page 4

  "Who's yur buddy," Dakota prompted victoriously, and the two circled around to acquire new targets.

  Commodore Tom Upton directed the Realm forces from the holographic projection table at the command station of the battlecarrier Indomitable.

  "Captain Stroud," Upton called over the communication lines to the commander of the battlecarrier HMS Valiant. "Some cruisers are coming in from the far side of the system, move to intercept."

  "Roger that, Commodore."

  In the seconds following, the floating, holographic image of the battle showed the Valiant changing course to engage the approaching ships. To Upton's surprise, the Hateeg ships responded by making a sharp course correction. In unison, the rest of the surviving Hateeg ships also made abrupt turns.

  "Looks like they're regrouping, Commodore," came a report.

  "No," Upton replied as he studied the floating image above the waist-high table. "Look at that formation. They're not regrouping; they're making a run for it. Comm, tell the Protector to hold its position and send the starfighter squadrons to engage the ships that are still planetside until our main ground force arrives. Signal everyone else to follow us. We're not letting these guys escape just so they can fight another day. Bring us about; pursuit course!"

  "Aye, Commodore."

  Lumbering as an enormous sea creature, the massive Indomitable circled to the vector of the fleeing Hateeg ships then began accelerating. The other battlecarriers and corvette class ships joined in the chase. Though the Hateeg had a lead, the Realm ships were gaining.

  "Time to intercept?" Upton asked.

  "Weapons range in five min-" the crewman started to say but then interrupted his own statement with an update. "They're cloaking! We're losing the images."

  Tom spun his chair around, looking back at the HPT as one by one each of the Hateeg ships vanished from the view.

  "Wait," he called out while staring at an intermittent, static-laden image on the projection. "What's that?"

  "Scanning, stand-by. Looks like one of their reactors is leaking. It must have taken some damage. Their cloaking field can't mask the escaping particles."

  The commodore smiled.

  "Then we have them. Maintain course."

  ***

  Captain Crex came to a halt as he snapped to attention at the one-way mirrored command cubicle of the goliath Ramillie ship Tyrannus. With a soft hiss, the doors parted open. Crex let out a quick breath, steeling himself for another encounter with the ship's inscrutable commander, Warlord Ra'daq.

  "What is it, Captain?" Ra'daq asked, not bothering to turn and see who entered. No matter who came to report, the warlord always knew who was behind him without checking. Crex still wasn't sure how he did that, it was another reason Ra'daq chilled him.

  "Something of interest has appeared on the scopes, Warlord," Crex replied, trying to mask his discomfort. "Remnant ships are entering our sector."

  "Those rebels? What are they doing out here?"

  "It seems they have launched an offensive in the Entauri Major system and have driven out the Hateeg. They are currently pursuing the Hateeg invasion force."

  "Why haven't the Hateeg disappeared?"

  "There appears to be damage to their cloaking device."

  "Hmm. How many rebel ships in this group?"

  "Three battlecarriers and a handful of corvettes."

  Ra'daq smiled.

  "Excellent. Change course to intercept," he instructed.

  Crex hesitated, and Ra'daq detected his unease.

  "What troubles you, Captain?"

  "Warlord," Crex began, choosing his words carefully, "I'm not questioning your orders, and I've no doubt we can eliminate the Remnant force, but it will take time, and there remains the matter of the outpost's distress signal. They said if we don't arrive soon, they would be overrun. If the outpost is lost then so will our only base in this sub-quadrant."

  "Victory has a price, Crex, and sacrifices must be made if we are to attain our ultimate goal." Head turning slightly as if an unseen voice called to him, Ra'daq paused for a moment then nodded. Eventually turning his purple eyes back to the ship's rigid first officer, he spoke softly, but Crex was uncertain if Ra'daq was addressing him.

  "Yes… sacrifices."

  ***

  "I keep losing the lock," complained the Indomitable's weapons officer.

  "Alright forget the cannon," Upton relented. "We'll use missiles; set them for proximity detonation, that way they don't have to score direct hits. Helm, once we're in range then match the Hateeg's speed and feed the data to the weapons stations so they can work out a firing solution. How much time left?"

  "Thirty sec-… HYPERSPACE PORTAL OPENING DIRECTLY AHEAD!"

  All knew the alarm in the sensor operator's voice was justified, because only the Ramillie had developed hyperspace technology, and the only reason they would enter real space is if they had the advantage.

  "Orders, Commodore?"

  Watching the opening tear in space on the main viewscreen, Upton sat in the command chair and rubbed his chin as he quickly considered the options. Fight, go around, or run, he debated internally. Realizing he had picked up Balin's habit, he withdrew his hand from his chin and wondered if he could split his forces so they could engage the Ramillie and continue pursuit of the Hateeg. Seeing it was the gargantuan Tyrannus exiting the hole to the other dimension settled the question.

  "Hard about! All ships make best speed back to Entauri Major! We'll regroup with the reserve forces and make our stand there. Helm, plot us a jump, quick!"

  As the Realm group made a hasty about-face, the Tyrannus accelerated toward its fleeing prey.

  "Activate the gravity well generator," Captain Crex ordered. The move was a standard opening tactic of the Ramillie. The elevated gravity levels prevented anyone in the area from jumping to lightspeed to escape. Because Ramillie ships used hyperspace to travel the vast distances between stars, they were not equipped with lightdrive engines.

  "Blast," Upton shouted as the ligtdrive initiator failed. "Gravity well. Send an emergency signal to our ships at Entauri Major. Tell them to divert course to our position."

  "They're jamming all frequencies, Sir!"

  Unable to run or call for help, and knowing a head-to-head match with the beast was virtually suicide, Upton did what he could to save lives.

  "Send a tight beam transmission to the other ships in our group, tell them to break off on ninety-degree angles, and then jump back to Entauri Major as soon as their free of the gravity field. We'll draw the Ramillie's fire and try and hold them off as long as we can."

  The ghostly pale Warlord Ra'daq smiled as the Realm fleet began to disperse. Pushing the button on his command console, he addressed the weapons controller.

  "Target the engines of the battlecarriers that are trying to change course. I don't think I'll allow them to get away this time."

  "What about the corvettes?" asked Captain Crex.

  "Let them go for now," Ra'daq waved dismissively. "Someone has to live to spread fear of the beast, but for now, it's time to let it feed… Fire."

  Hundreds of missiles leaped from the numerous launch tubes of the Tyrannus, each weapon finding its mark and relentlessly pounding the battlecarriers' shields.

  "Divert all power to weapons and shields," Tom Upton shouted over the persistent barrage of Ramillie attack. "FIRE AT WILL," he shouted, barely heard over the blaring klaxons and thunderously loud hammering of his ship. Dwarfed by the leviathan Tyrannus, the three Realm ships counter-attacked with missiles of their own and beams from their main cannons. Using every resource, even the secondary weapons usually used for point defense and anti-starfighter measures, the battlecarriers lashed out at the enemy craft, though uselessly.

  Crex checked energy status readings on his screen then reported to the ship's commander, "Shield power down by one point three percent."

  Ra'daq was pleased.

  "Cease missile attack, go to the secondary cannons to finish them off,
" he directed without concern.

  A torrent of red lasers rained upon the already weakened Realm vessels. Without an instant of reprieve, the battlecarriers' defensive screens soon buckled, and the piercing blood-colored beams directly scorched the hulls. The Tyrannus dwarfed the opposing craft, and they appeared as fish swimming beneath a great whale. A billowing flash of light coming in from the main viewport let Commodore Upton know one of the other Realm ships had just exploded. Half a minute later, the other battlecarrier shattered in millions of fiery pieces. Alone, the Indomitable shook violently, and smoke began filling its expansive bridge. Secondary explosions rocked the ship from within, and emergency lights bathed the room in shades of red. Staying focused, Upton finished recording his message, pulled out the chip with the ship's logs and slid it into a tubular container. Closing the cylinder, he inserted it into the specifically designed opening on the HPT and hit the activation button. Immediately, the small container raced through the ship's girders, locking into position in an emergency drone. Launching the instant the message tube was in place, the tiny drone zoomed from the craft only seconds before the ship exploded in a brilliant ball of flame.

  ***

  "Emergency communiqué from starship Indomitable, priority one," sounded the emotionless voice of the computer in Admiral Balin's office.

  Leaving the galactic map displayed on the large wall-screen, the stout admiral crossed to his desk, instructing the computer as he sat.

  "Receive message, decode: authorization J. Balin."

  "Voice authorization confirmed, decoding message."

  Balin was concerned. He knew Commodore Upton wouldn't use a priority one message unless there was a serious problem at Entauri Major. Before he had time to speculate, Upton's image appeared on the screen, sparks shot out of the consoles behind the Commodore, and alarms competed for dominance.

  "Admiral," Upton shouted to be heard over the sound of the battle, "we've driven the Hateeg out of the system and were on a pursuit course when we encountered Ramillie. It's only one ship. Same configuration as the one that hit the Dauntless. Unable-" an explosion knocked Tom from his feet, and the image went to static for a few seconds but was restored. "Unable to jump; Valiant and Paladin lost. I'm not going to make it out of this one Johannes!"

  A beam of steal collapsed from the ceiling, smashing into the command chair behind where the Commodore stood.

  "Make me one last promise, Old Friend… promise to kill that thing! Kill it, or the Realm is lost!" Another internal explosion sounded on the recording. "NO TIME LEFT, ALL THE DATA IS ON THE ENCLOSED CHIP! TELL MY WIFE I LOVE HER… LONG LIVE THE-!"

  With that, the image went blank. That afternoon, donning his seldom worn dress uniform, the bulky admiral went to the home of his life-long friend to deliver the news in person. Seeing Balin's ceremonial clothes and heavy somberness, Tom's wife immediately knew something was woefully wrong. As the admiral ascended the steps to the front door, her heart begged that it wasn't what she feared.

  "Tom?" she whispered.

  "I'm sorry," he answered lowly.

  Covering her mouth with her hands, she broke into heavy tears.

  "He was my friend, and a great hero of the Realm," Balin offered.

  "I don't want a hero," she uttered through the grief. "…I want my husband."

  CHAPTER 6

  "To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven… A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance." – Ecclesiastes 3:1,4

  Cheyenne was battered, bruised, and winded, but refused to give up.

  "So help me, Girl, you will learn to waltz by the time of the gala if it kills me," she groaned while rubbing her feet that Aulani had repeatedly stomped during the lesson.

  "And it just may," Cheyenne added in a whisper.

  Each evening, after the day's meeting of the High Council, Aulani met with Cheyenne for what the former queen called "Lady of Elegance Training." To Aulani, it often felt as basic military training, and for all its delicacies, it was often painful.

  "I can't even walk in these, let alone dance," fussed Aulani about the high heels Cheyenne forced her to wear.

  "You'll be able to run in them by the time I'm through with you. Besides, a lady knows the importance of having the right shoes for the right outfit, and there are limited occasions where you'll find a call for your much-loved combat boots. It's a relatively low heel anyway. I'm not saying you need to wear spikes, but contrariwise, flats are hardly indicative of a lady of refinement; therefore, you will learn to sit, walk, and dance in heels. Let's try something simple, sitting."

  Relieved, Aulani crossed to the chair in front of the seated dowager queen and plopped down.

  "No, no, no, Girl. A lady does not drop into a chair as a discarded sack of fruit." Standing so she could demonstrate, Cheyenne explained the proper procedure. "Gracefully back up to the chair, and then when you feel it touch the back of your knees, gently lower yourself."

  Aulani tried it again.

  "Much better," Cheyenne encouraged. "Keep your knees together and cross your legs at the ankles. Only trollops expose their thighs. Very good. Alright, now gently rise, and let's try walking again, shall we?"

  Aulani concentrated while attempting to keep her ankles straight so she wouldn't fall again. Cautiously, she made her way forward.

  "Eyes forward," Cheyenne insisted. "A lady looks you in the eye, not in the foot."

  Lifting her gaze, Aulani continued with noted effort as Cheyenne proceeded with the instruction.

  "Once you master this, by all means, don't fall into the trap of swaying your hips. Nothing is tackier than swishing your bum. Oh, and do smile," Cheyenne insisted. "It shows you're welcoming, warm, and hospitable."

  Aulani lumbered forward, resembling a bot in great need of oil.

  "My Dear, you must learn to glide across the floor. One foot in front of the other as if you're walking on a narrow line," Cheyenne instructed while demonstrating. "Like this."

  Suddenly, Aulani slipped and came crashing down on her right ankle.

  "Ahh," she exclaimed painfully.

  "Are you alright?"

  "Yes," Aulani groused. "I'll be fine," she grumbled while shaking her head.

  "It's more than shoes bothering you isn't it?" Cheyenne deduced. "Tell me what's really going on."

  Aulani puffed in frustration.

  "To be honest, I don't even know why I'm doing this. Why should I have to become something I'm not just to win Alexander's heart? He should love me for how I am."

  "My Dear Girl, you don't see it, do you? Everything I'm pumping into you, the lady you are becoming – these aren't to win Alex's heart. I've seen the glances he steals at you when he thinks no one is looking, the way his eyes light up when you come in the room, and how he hangs on your every word. You don't have to win Alex's heart; you already have it. No, what you are doing is for the Council and the people of the Realm. They are the ones you have to win. He's marrying Vivica because he thinks it's the only way to keep the Realm from falling apart. It's duty, not love."

  "I suppose you're right, but that's a problem too; the Councilors from Enty will be furious if he marries an outsider. It could destroy the Realm."

  "My Dear, you'll never accomplish any lasting good by doing the wrong thing for a good reason. Don't worry about the Enty Councilors," Cheyenne reassured her protégé. "If they weren't the issue it would be something else. You'll quickly discover that Councilors are always in a tizzy about something. Besides, you mentioned your family's homeworld is Entauri Major. That started off as an Enty colony."

  "Well, that is true, but what about Vivica? What should I do about her?"

  "Nothing," the former queen confidently answered. "If we give Vivica enough rope she'll hang herself. Don't worry about her. In time, her true colors will come through loud and clear. She'll fall, and when she does you must be ready to step up and prove to the Council that you are the ideal choice to be the Premie
r Lady of the Realm. Now, we're losing precious time. The night of the gala will be here before you know it. Let's try the music again."

  The lesson continued, until the late evening. Eventually, Cheyenne was called away to meet with Alexander. Aulani kept at it for another hour or two then, wiping her brow, took off the elegant-looking torture devices that the queen called shoes and started back to her quarters in bare and aching feet. She looked, and smelled, a mess so was anxious for a shower. Combat boots in one hand, high heels in another, hair sweaty, and with her trouser pants rolled half-way up her calves, she attempted to quietly slip through the halls without anyone noticing her. Unfortunately, she rounded a corner and came face to face with the king, his dowager queen mother, and their security detail.

  "Aulani," Alexander said in surprise as he caught sight, and smell, of her.

  "Alex, I mean-," she began but was interrupted by a voice calling from down the hall.

  "Oh, Darling," called the person.

  No, not her. Not now. Anybody but her, Aulani thought upon recognizing the voice. As much as she didn't want to run into Alexander at the moment, that was far preferable than running into Vivica. But, meeting with both at the same time was, as she considered it, an unqualified disaster.

  Though the mansion Lord Edric Canton had left Vivica was only slightly damaged during the liberation of Enty, she insisted it was utterly unlivable, and she needed to stay in the palace while her home was repaired and completely refurbished.

  Aulani couldn't believe what was happening. Here she was, a mess from head to blistered toe, and in saunters Vivica in an elegant, ankle-length silk nightgown and matching robe.

  Blasted Vivica, Aulani mused. She looks gorgeous, even at this hour. It's not fair. Her hair is perfect, her nightgown is exquisite, even her house shoes are amazing.

  "Oh, Alex," Vivica cooed as she went to him. "I had trouble sleeping, so I came to find you," she said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "What are you doing... here?" she said while disapprovingly eyeing Aulani up and down.