Courage (29 page)

Oemaru’s little black wyverbit zipped back to him and hovered before his elongated face. He plucked it out of the air.

Firru entered the veladome with the last leader, some cloaked and hooded being that caused a chill to crawl up Oemaru’s spine. He’d caught a glimpse of feminine curves, beady eyes and a sharp nose, but the rest of the being’s face was lost in the depths of the hood. The cloaked woman entered the veladome like she knew exactly what was going to happen. Oemaru didn’t like this person, however he pushed aside the dislike. He had to respect her if he wanted her respect in return. Firru grabbed Oemaru’s shoulder before he could enter the dome.

“Sir, this is quite the impressive collection of leaders,” he whispered. “Even with all the worlds we’ve explored and conquered, I don’t think we’ve ever been to any of their worlds.”

“Consider that a good thing,” Oemaru whispered back. “Or they would all hate us.”

“Oh, I know. I’m just amazed, even with as many galaxies we’ve been to, how much life we have yet to meet in the universe.”

“Mm. More to conquer,” he said with a grin. He turned for the interior once more.

“A caveat, sir, before you begin.”

Oemaru gave his second in command his full attention. He didn’t like the worried tone in Firru’s voice. Nothing had caused him worry since that one loss many years ago.

“Your soldiers informed me that many are eager to prove that they can lead the entire army better than you. Their pride is injured for not having thought of this meeting before you. And that’s in addition to the few who think this meeting is unnecessary. You have your work cut out for you if you want this army functioning as one cohesive unit. Would you like any bodyguards?”

“Did the other leaders bring any?”

“No, sir.”

“Then no. I don’t want to look like I’m either afraid of them or trying to intimidate them into submission. Grab your men and go.”

“Yes, sir!” Firru ordered his men out Oemaru marched in and closed the door behind him with a press of a button on his cuff. He weaved his way to a skeletal podium in the back of the dome. The podium consisted of a single golden rod, like the ones the veladome was made out of, that held up an angled metal dashboard, also golden. Oemaru flew three foot spans into the air so he could reach the dashboard, thus elevating him above most beings present. Many along the perimeter were tall enough to gaze at him levelly. Oemaru detached a voice enhancer from the dashboard and pressed it to the side of his face, near his mouth. It suctioned to his leathery skin.

He took a moment to take in all the eyes on him and steel himself. He was more accustomed to addressing his soldiers, or people he’d conquered, not those he needed to sway in his favor. This moment outside his comfort zone would only make him stronger. He squared his shoulders, eager to conquer this challenge, but not without due caution. He focused on exuding confidence, instead of a sense of superiority.

All his guests ceased their chatter and turned their attention to Oemaru. Eyes of varying shapes, sizes and colors met his. Their faces varied just as much, bearing tusks, horns, scales, hair, fur, tentacles, skin hues and textures, and various clothing, accessories, and technology. Near the front stood the cloaked woman who’d made a chill crawl up his spine. Oemaru’s body remained still. Hopefully the slight widening of his eyes went unnoticed. The woman looked like she was exuding dark tendrils of smoke around her shoulders, and the leaders around her had given her extra standing room, whether they realized it or not. At least he wasn’t the only person that woman made feel uneasy.

“Welcome, all, and thank you for coming,” Oemaru said, his voice amplified by the sound system. “My name is Kwon Oemaru of planet Neo-Joso.” He bit back his automatic rattling off of his rank. Right now, it would come off as arrogant. “We are well hidden from enemy eyes and ears, so we may speak freely about strategy.” A few faces nodded in agreement, however a few others still looked displeased. The cloaked woman looked indifferent.

A tall, lightly armored female said, “Are you so unsure of our skills in warring that you really think this meeting is necessary? We are the chosen.”

“That we are,” Oemaru said without missing a beat. “However, we are not a unified army. We are a hundred different ones with a hundred different plans. I would like everyone to take this opportunity to share our strategies, so each army can provide support to another like you’ve never had before.”

“Just charge in and start killing,” she said with a shrug. “You don’t need to discuss that.”

“I don’t think that’s what everyone had in mind,” Oemaru said as politely as he could manage. “Including myself.” Dozens of people voiced agreement, and several laughed.

The tall female folded her arms and glared with injured pride. “Fine.”

One of the hulking creatures in back said in a gravelly voice, “I don’t think he cares so much about discussing strategy as does turning all of us into his puppets.” His statement caused many people to break out into hushed conversation.

“Do you really think that’s true?” Oemaru said. The chatter stopped. Yes, he wanted to be the leader of them all, but he wanted loyal subordinates, not puppets. Puppet masters had to pull all the strings if they wanted their marionettes to do anything. Subordinates only needed commands and strong leadership. “Do you see any of my men in this room? Do you see any weapons on my person? All of you stand between me the exit, so there’s no easy way to escape if I felt so inclined.” The membrane blanketing the veladome was highly elastic. He’d get tangled in it like in a spider web, even if he managed to rip it. “If I wanted you as my puppets, I’d have sent my men to capture and subdue you, not politely invite you here.”

“You missed the polite part,” someone muttered.

“I apologize.” Oemaru tried to mean it. Being condescending wouldn’t help him right now. “I ordered my men to show all due respect and etiquette that we practice on our world Neo-Joso. Don’t hold against me the formalities I missed from worlds I’ve never been to.”

“Yet you’ve been to many worlds,” the cloaked and hooded woman said, amused.

How did she know? Her voice was rich, deep, and attractive, and made more chills crawl up Oemaru’s spine. None of his soldiers would say more than what they needed to persuade these leaders to gather inside the veladome. They knew better than to brag about his intergalactic conquest to a bunch of potential targets. “I have. But none of yours.”

“And a good thing at that. I see a lifetime of conquest in your mind.”

“Perhaps you’ve seen how great a leader I am as well?”

Oemaru wasn’t sure if he imagined it or not, but he thought he saw part of the shadow below her nose curve into a smile. “There’s no denying you are the best of your kind.”

The tall, lightly armored woman spoke again. “Who cares what she
says
? She has no
proof
. I, Zestra Axesinger, challenge you, Kwon Oemaru, for leadership of everyone here!” She grasped the long handle to what looked like an axe slung over her back, but didn’t draw her weapon. Other people shifted in place, switching from cautious to ready for a fight. The whole atmosphere tensed.

Wishing he didn’t have so many people standing between him and the door, Oemaru looked at her, then around the room with feigned calm. “Who else wishes to challenge me? I accept every challenge, but on my terms. We have one hundred thousand enemies waiting for us on the other side of the realm. We aren’t supposed to fight each other. We will debate with words, not weapons or extended reality. Everyone who wishes to challenge me step forward. Those who don’t, make room near the podium.” He gestured to the rocky ground before him.

The cloaked woman remained near the podium with her hooded gaze fixated on Oemaru. Leaders moved to the back of the room while Zestra and over a dozen others drew closer. He counted twenty leaders who were eager to take his place. In all honesty, he’d expected more, but he was relieved, not disappointed. Well, almost relieved. The hooded woman was among the challengers. She spoke first.

“Kwon Oemaru is the best of all of you. You’d be fools to challenge him. Your deeds and prowess pale in comparison.”

The leaders surrounding her balked, but none dared stand within three foot spans of her. Almost all of them, including Zestra, spat venomous words at her, but Oemaru couldn’t make out much of what they said. In fact, he found it strange that he understood anyone. The tens of thousands of languages spread across the entire universe, but not every world spoke even one common language. Yet here were a hundred people from a hundred different worlds with nothing lost in translation. How? The hooded woman’s voice halted his train of thought.

She stood her generously-given ground, undaunted. “Kwon Oemaru will lead us to certain victory. In the short future, he is the wisest choice. In the farther future, he is the most dangerous choice. His leadership comes at a price that will be paid for not during this war, but later. But that part of the future is too far forward to be certain it will come to pass. We may have nothing to fear. He may not even survive this war.” Again, a part of the darkness in her hood looked like it curved into a smile, a thin curl of grey that matched what Oemaru could see of her nose and eyes.

Zestra said, “Explain yourself!” Her words were meant to come out forcefully, but her voice was strained, fearful. Why was Zestra scared? By Vancor’s cunning, why was Oemaru scared as well?

The smile inside the hood widened, baring jagged teeth. The tendrils of her dark aura snaked out and covered the eyes of those nearest to her. Those leaders cried out in alarm, but their bodies froze mid-flinch, limbs taut with fear.

“What are you doing?” Oemaru said. His voice sounded just as strained over the sound system.

More tendrils lanced out from within the hooded woman’s figure. One wrapped around Oemaru’s eyes and he found himself unable to see or move. Her rich voice sounded like she was the one with the voice enhancer. Her voice filled Oemaru’s head. “Let me, Daevra of the world Acherontic, show all of you a few things about the glorious leader who has gathered us here on the eve of war, for all of you must take much into consideration before deciding on who will lead us to victory.”

Oemaru’s awareness of the veladome made way for a memory--no, a vision of the day he was born, but it wasn’t from his point of view. It was omniscient somehow, like she’d collected the memories of everyone present and formed a grander picture.

The newborn Oemaru was cradled in two pale hands wearing latex gloves and caked in the same amniotic fluids and silvery blood as Oemaru’s wrinkly body. His head was a third the entire length of his body with a gaping wedge of a mouth letting out phlegmatic wails. He’d almost forgotten he’d ever been that small.

Daevra’s voice overpowered the unfolding scene. “Dear Kwon Oemaru was born over five thousand years ago on the world Neo-Joso, a world steeped in the art of war, a world dominated by technology that exceeds any of our own.” The view of his infant body backed up to reveal a room with several women giving birth, a dozen doctors divided among the laboring women, and a dozen more airborne robots flitting above everyone’s elongated heads, their skeletal hands and arms hanging from cube-like cores. The far side of the room had a wall that was one large window that revealed a majestic panorama of Neo-Joso’s capital city Sujam. A fleet of airships guarded the capital’s slender buildings and everyone living in it. The sight of it caused Oemaru to ache for home. He loved his home world, yet he’d spent such a tiny fraction of his life there. It was the one major drawback of his conquest.

The view of the vision flew through the window and blurred with white light. Once the view stilled, it revealed a toddler version of Oemaru practicing a strategy board game among hundreds of other toddlers. Daevra’s voice narrated the scene.

“The Neo-Josos are born and bred for war. From a young age they are taught tactics, strategy, thinking ahead, how to overpower an opponent, and the importance of never underestimating a foe. Their brain power far exceeds any of us present, yet they succumb to the same emotions and cravings of the flesh as the rest of us, thus placing them on an even field in the end.” The scene shifted several times, showing snippets of Oemaru and his fellow trainees sitting in lecture halls, all of them around age ten, practicing hand-to-hand combat as teenagers, learning how to fly various crafts as young adults, and a ceremony where Oemaru and his peers earned their first stripes, pins and uniforms.

“Out of thousands, dear Kwon Oemaru graduated at the top, proving to be the most tactical and ruthless fighter. No one has ever beat him, except one foe, but we’ll get to that in just a moment.”

The scenes flashed in rapid succession again, showing one world he’d conquered after another. He’d left shattered populations in his wake, new outposts for his people to expand to, worlds getting take over by Neo-Josos, and two world’s he’d destroyed. Only two. Vancor had warned him to be sparing with such actions, for he’d have drawn too much divine attention if he’d demolished too many worlds.

“Kwon Oemaru conquered worlds with a fleet numbering in the mere thousands against populations numbering up to billions. How many of you can boast victory in the face of similar numbers?” Daevra showed snippets of dogfights both in outer space and inside one planet or another’s biosphere, along with bombing raids and ground combat, all of which Oemaru and his fleet decisively won. Opponents surrendered, retreated, or were slaughtered. Once the fighting was done, Oemaru, with an entourage of armed bodyguards, met his defeated opponents as he oversaw the signing of treaties, or rather “submission contracts” as Oemaru fondly called them. “Once his opponents were defeated and broken, he claimed dominion over every last one of them. His conquest spans dozens of galaxies, while none of you have conquered an entire world. Are you sure you dare challenge such prowess?”