Among Bright Stars... (11 page)

“Kulcarin’s right Arshira, it’s a military
target.” Shuriken told her, with care and awareness of the
devastation that now marred the young woman's face. “That atoll’s
destruction will prevent any quick counterstrike.”

“That doesn’t make it right Shuriken.”
Arshira fumed. “How did this happen?”

“We think they found the nuke, attempted to
disarm it.” Aranskrai said.

“Of course, they didn’t know that it’s
genetically encoded to you” ISG Kra said to Arshira. “Me, and
Sharr. It’s very likely that the fail-safe triggered the
detonation.”

“Lords of Char, watch over us! Lo there
flies a falcon, may your light shine upon our souls in this hour of
tribulation. Let us ascend from our ashes, to become stronger
beings, who keep in ourselves the lamplight of Char.” Prayed
Arshira, fully aware of the futility of this orison. Nonetheless,
the Valküri discovered for herself comfort in its meaning of
renewal.

[Vorkrür Island: Morning]

Hiccup, hiccup, and hiccup!

“Are you okay Maa?”

“Just fine Ariel.” Nadia got out before she
hiccupped once more.

FS-Vor Kiral Kra
circled around, to
then put down on the palace's private landing pad. Down the
gangplank walked the Shotar, followed by his Drakorian Guard. Nadia
sighed, she had little wish to stand on formality, so she broke off
from the official reception and jumped into Sharr’s waiting arms,
and very publicly kissed him. At first he resisted such an open
display of affection, but soon he pressed into the lip lock. They
held each other for a long time. “Aami tomake bhaalobashi Mayura!”
Huskily whispered Nadia in Bengali.
I love you Peacock!

“I love you Bright Eyes.” Sharr hungrily
embraced her.

Shouts and cheers, both for the open display
of love from the Imperial Couple, and the apparent victory against
the Imperium sounded from a gathered palace staff.
Falcania
Jai!.

With a wave of his hand Sharr halted the
crowd. “Be patient my people. This is not yet a success. There is
much work that must be done before Romulus can fully be
trusted.”

“We’ve sent an official apology for the Wake
Island incident.” Chancellor Trakan reported. “It appears that the
Imperator has ordered his men not to touch any of our nukes. This
is not a popular move on his part.”

“I should imagine not.” Sharr agreed.

Sitara joined her twin, they hugged.

“Let me introduce Darius Noorani, our new
ally.” Ariel grinned.

Darius exclaimed, stunned by his beloved's
twin sister, who of course was but a mirror of Ariel. “Oh my!” In
an attempt to regain his composure, Noorani cleared his throat,
amended himself and gallantly said with a magniloquence bow: “It is
good to meet you Princess Sitara.”

Sitara extended her hand, realized she
blushed. “Nice to finally meet the renowned, Great Eastern Lion.”
And she mouthed toward her twin: “Not bad,” out loud Sitara
continued. “He seems all the media makes him out to be, and yet so
much more.” Totally inappropriate to drool over this Adonis,
betrothed to her twin, yet she could not help herself. Sitara hoped
Ariel would be much happier in her forthcoming matrimony than how
married life began to turn out for herself. Kulcarin had changed so
much these last few years. Gotten further away from her
emotionally. War! All Kulcarin cared about were his Skatha.

Where does our history begin? On the wrecked
Earth? Perhaps out in the Starchaser fleet? Or here, on this great
experiment in universal brotherhood which we call Fountainhead? At
what point do humans end, and Morningstars start? I am a pure blood
Morningstar, which means like all my brethren, I'm functionally
immortal. I age only within the limits of my molecular construct.
Our creator thought it his job to improve on the plumbing. Indeed,
he did. As such, we are also rather fertile. Morningstar offspring,
hybrids constitute the majority of humanity these days. We are both
inheritors of mankind, as well as its progenitors.

--- Roark Dallas, The Architect

[HCV Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, On Approach
To planet Archangel 7]

A ship of the Holy Crusade, hence the
abbreviation HCV, the monolithic crucifix crossed the stars, its
fuselage held two pylons on which nacelles were mounted. Some
amongst the Budjah had argued that the ship should have been called
after the Holy Fathers Papal name but his Eminence Bishop Styx had
thought to honor Pope Benedict XVI’s prior accomplishments as
leader of The Inquisition. Without those accomplishments Styx was
sure that the Budjah would not have been able to become the ruling
voices in the fragmented Church which he had helped to restore
following the final World War.

On the main holoviewer, Brother-Commander
Alexander Rodriguez, a monk of the highest Budjah Order stood on
his bridge and watched the Primary Vessels of the Crusade fleet
near the Basilica World that Imperator Romulus had kindly
terraformed for his sect. From the folds of his scarlet robes
Rodriguez removed his hands, stroked his shiny black mustache.
Archangel 7 filled the holoviewer. Here the word would be brought
to the unclean Heathen; those aliens who subscribed to a dangerous
hearsay that spoke against the word of God and his many prophets.
“It is a glorious sight to behold your Eminence.”

Styx’s bucket shaped mask swiveled so that
he might peer closer at the holoviewer. One could never tell for
sure what the cyborg monk truly thought under his concealing
helmet. “It is here that we shall train more brothers and sisters
to go out into the night and carry with them the true word.” His
synthesized voice crackled. “The Church's roots are now here.”

“I’m told that the printing, and copying
facility has been completed on schedule.” Brother-Commander
Rodriguez reported. He understood that the word, via both
mechanical and electronic press had been and always would be his
orders strength. They sent the Word outward in both hard copy, and
e-ink. Each Budjah kept a an e-reader which they dutifully would
copy their Bible from for those who showed interest. The Church
even invested in the latest wireless devices to ensure their
religion became viral. “We will be able to place more Blue Catholic
Bibles into the hands of those who seek truth.”

“Imperator Romulus gifted us with a large
stock of the Holy Truth.” Styx grated aware that the Imperator had
been more than glad to be rid of him. “Even now, a ship makes for
Ksar to bring the ‘Rang’ the one, True Holy word in the person of
our Holy Book. There will be no more of this Annunaki
nonsense.”

Reconciliation, an attempt to make both
space and the myriad religions that scattered Earth work toward one
goal. Though the work acknowledged other prophets some old and
others new, Jesus remained at the center of this testament of God’s
love and many works. The SRBCB had been authored by Styx's hand
alone, without any bureaucratic decisions to hinder its
revelations. Ever massive, it maintained the Torah as the Old
Testament, and adopted a wholly new book in place of Revelations
that foretold of a Galactic War against the wicked. For whatever
reason, the Budjah faith clicked within a sizable chunk of the
human populace.

“And the other species? Do we not seek them
out for conversion? The Hraic --”

“Beyond the Iksar’rang, we hear only rumors
of others. Our universe is sparse.” Styx paused, and reflected.
“I’ve met a Hraic once,” offered Bishop Styx. “What a horrible
creature, a corrupted form of humanity. Maori tribesmen kidnapped
from Earth, altered to be hunters and bodyguards by those selfsame
aliens who claim to have fashioned man from the dust of the
Earth.”

“Even with a fold-engine’s great abilities,
to traverse this wilderness remains a hardship.” Alexander pointed
out. “We are at last out of the reach of the Falcanians. Lately
they have become an affliction. Actively fighting monks whenever
they thought that they could get away with it, particularly a unit
known as the Skatha Brigade has enjoyed using us as targets.”

“Worry not about the Falcanians” Assured
Styx. “Romulus is about to render them moot. They shall no longer
hunt us and assault our churches. That scourge of God has been
dealt with.”

Rodriguez raised a brow. “Really how?”

“He and his armies are about to wipe them
out.” Under his golden mask his scarred, pale face became a pleased
grin.

[Vorkrür: Imperial Palace]

He walked calmly down the hall, fine muscles
flexed under his blue mesh shirt. A new stud filled the piecing in
his long pointed ear. Purple hair cut short and spiked. Outside the
doors of Sharr’s office Kvaltar Vron paused, the Drakorian Guards
stationed there nodded at him.

“Is there a problem sir?” One of the
ox-blood-armored guards asked.

Vron did not respond right away. He thought
to himself aware that not only did his friend await him behind
these finally crafted oval doors, constructed by workers whom he
had commissioned himself to build this place, but so also did Aria.
Lately Kvaltar thought she began to become a problem, though Vron
knew enough not to share that thought with the Drakorian. The lean
man made a mental note; he needed to discuss the whole Aria issue
with Nadia. Not that Sharr’s Queen likely would take his advice,
she’d respond better to Shuriken, knew the adviser. Vron had heard
about what had happened on the FX-24. Things were not good if a
member of the Imperial navy tried an assault upon Aria in the
Shotar’s presence. “No,” said Kvaltar. “Sharr’s expecting me.”

Things were just as Kvaltar had expected
when he entered the office: Aria sat, legs crossed on the edge of
Sharr’s heavy desk, she leaned back slightly, dressed in the finest
clothing that money could buy. She laughed good-naturally at
something Sharr had said. Aria’s secretarial skills were a joke, to
be sure, nothing but an excuse for Sharr to always have her nearby.
She’d never been the most organized woman, Vron remembered from
experience. Vron pondered for a moment if she really cared at all
for his friend, or did Aria simply go through the motions because
she had no choice?

On the holoviewer in the background played
the BBC, two scientists debated the matter of the Annunaki, both
staunchly argued their points. It predictably became a shouting
match. He had chosen to take a wait and see stance where it
concerned the Iksar’rang’s fantastic claims about human origins
which were of course at odds with humanity's own Darwinist
understanding of the subject.

“Hello Vance.” Aria greeted with a lilt.

Vron gave her a pleasant nod. “Hello
Aria.”

“So you said you had something you wanted me
to do?’ Vron asked.

“Yes.” Sharr stood.

Kvaltar noticed a finely crafted wooden box
on the desk. A great piece of woodwork; no seams could be made out
on its rounded corners. The Falcanian Narshin had been engraved
into the five visible sides.

“It’s a dangerous thing I'm asking of you,
sending you to Imperator Romulus.”

“To arrange the summit?” Kvaltar wasn’t all
that surprised by this news, that's what he did.

Gravely Sharr nodded. “These arrangements
must be handled with the utmost diplomacy.” The Shotar explained.
“You have a habit of making those who might disagree listen to
reason even when they care not to.”

“I’ll put my team together --”

“There’s one other thing,” said Sharr Khan,
in an almost too low voice, while he handled the finally crafted
box. “I need you to present a gift to Romulus.”

“What sort of gift?” He assumed the box and
whatever it might contain. Vron experienced a moment of
apprehension. “Do you mean to assassinate the Imperator?” Vron
could never be very certain. If the whim came over Sharr, he just
might go in for the kill, especially given he now had the upper
hand. He’d warn against such a course. No need to waste offered
peace.

Sharr shook his head, cleared his throat.
“Very much the opposite.”

A bad feeling struck Vron. Sharr plotted at
something. Whatever it was, the Shotar must have thought that it
gave him an advantage over the Imperator. He understood his
friend’s thought processes too well not to conclude this.

“Refined Rishaak fruit jelly.” Sharr opened
the box, the honey colored gel gave off a sweet flowery scent,
sparked with its own life. Almost two ounces of the jelly had been
placed in an ornamented crystal jar which also had been emblazoned
with the Narshin.

“We can’t allow them to get their hands on
this.” Protested Kvaltar.

“We’re not.” Sharr assured as he handed over
the container to his friend. “That’s why you personally shall
administer this dosage to the Imperator. Cure him and restore his
youth. Let him have a new life, one that he will owe to us.”

“That’s enough to addict him, it will shock
his system.” The pieces of the plan began to fall into place.
“That’s what you want then, to make him a slave, and hold him
hostage by his DNA.” Vron actually liked this idea.

“It shall restore him, and for all time,
make JR Giovanni our thrall.”

Moments after Kvaltar Vron left to carry out
his mission, Talik Kreis joined his half-brother. “So you’re
sending Vron to entrap the Imperator.” His half-brother proved more
devious than he had ever expected of him capable of being. Talik
had come to understand that rather quickly since his arrival
here.

“That’s the plan.” Sharr folded a piece of
parchment and placed it into his desk. “A note from Kheira.” Sharr
cleared his throat. “She has worries… About my Skatha.”

Talik nodded.

Going out onto the great balcony Sharr and
Talik gazed out over the city as the sun began to set, Aria
lingered behind them, no wish to interrupt their personal time,
though since she had not been excused had no choice but to
stay.