Among Bright Stars... (8 page)

“Oswald!” Arshira began to respectively
rise, but the ISG waved her to stop.

“Don’t get up,” Shuriken said. “Today went
pretty good, thanks to you.” He admitted

Arshira took the compliment with a
frown.

“Didn’t like it?” Shuriken Kra keenly
observed.

“I – I have never used a nuclear weapon on
anyone before.” She told him, her voice small. “What we’re risking
here are the lives of our people. Not just our soldiers, but all of
us, every last Falcanian on the planet could pay for what we’ve
unleashed this day.” Nuclear attacks, even on unpopulated areas
demanded retaliation. “I don’t like this silence from the
Imperium.”

Imperial Strato-General Shuriken Kra sat,
placed his own MRE down on the table. “Sympathizing with your
enemies isn’t good for your self-esteem.”

Arshira gave him an upward emerald glare,
crossed her arms over her ample cleavage, which bulged out of her
unzipped uniform, pouted. “It’s not about sympathy.”

“Had to be done.”

“I understand that Shuriken.”

The Sub-Commander got interrupted in her
dark musings by boisterous laughter. She turned to see Kulcarin’s
Skatha Brigade gathered apart from everyone else at a group of
tables. Colonel Aranskrai busily regaled his men with war stories
from the recent military operation, specifically how he had earlier
taken out the Imperium’s pilot. “I never see them out of that
bioarmor.” Arshira stated. “More and more they become like
Shierkala’s servants, thirsting for blood and war...” The Duchess
had made a study of the Telchar Shanral and found much insight from
its pages. “We let them go without restraint.”

“They get the job done and like fighting.”
Kulcarin had been Shuriken’s protégée. The former Drakorian now
surpassed his teacher where it came to the art of war. “And they’re
good at it. You too, if it wasn’t for you, today wouldn’t have
happened.”

The Valküri harrumphed, took a sip from her
drink.

For a few moments Arshira and Shuriken sat
silently and ate, in the background Skatha cheered one another on.
The quiet between the two very unusual.

Shuriken watched Arshira sigh, and sink
deeper into her chair. He noticed a new decoration on her upper
right arm, a digital tribal barbed wire tattoo. Digital tats were
the only sort of body art which stuck on a Morningstar. “So what’s
happening with you and Sharr?” The Supreme Commander had an idea
about that already.

“Oh,” Arshira said. “Very much the same.
When I can get his attention, things are fantastic.”

“What’s he think of that?”

Barely even glancing with her emerald feline
eyes, Arshira peered over at her arm, said. “My tattoo,” she
smiled, a bright white feminine grin. “Sharr thinks it
‘enhances
my voluptuousness’
whatever that means!” She let out a
self-amused giggle.

“No kid yet? That’s weird, Sharr really
likes to fuck. And I know he does it with the express intent to
breed. I mean, I don’t know from experience. I’ve... I’ve heard.
What’s he got twenty-something children?”

“Last I checked, twenty-three, that is if I
counted right.” Arshira didn’t know if any of the concubines were
pregnant at the moment. “I want one as well, but I decided that I'd
need to wait, not the best time to raise a child, at least for me
to be able to actually be a mother.” Arshira wanted to be able to
be a real mother when she had a baby, and devote all her time to
its upbringing. “Leading armies just wouldn’t allow for that now.
Besides, I’ve got lots of time.”

Kra listened attentively while the girl
spoke.

“Like I said though, that’s when I can get
his attention, he spends so much time fawning over Aria. The minute
she complains, he sees that she is made happy first, und trust me,
she usually has a lot to say or complain about.”

Shuriken couldn’t hold back his expression,
it telegraphed his hate of the cloned girl, Aria had been a
nuisance in her former life, and she had begun to become one once
more.

“You don’t much like her do you?’ Arshira
asked.

“She’s not my favorite person.” Shuriken
grunted. “Her impact on Sharr has always been like this. Nadia
doesn’t even turn him into a pile of goo – at least not like Aria
does. For some sick reason Sharr enjoys how she makes him feel.
I’ve never understood it and I had to witness much of that unfold.
It was a good thing he found Nadia.”

Arshira nodded. True, she understood very
well that Aria didn’t bring out the best in Sharr, not something
one could miss. Not that Sharr could be ever described to be overly
cheery, but Aria tended to make him moody.

“How bout you? What do you think of
Aria?”

“I a...” The reboot simply had been a
constant factor in her life, in all their lives. How did she feel
toward her? “In her own way she makes Sharr happy I guess.” Arshira
admitted. “Besides, she und I entered into the great drama that is
Falcania at the same time, we’re friends I think – even if she can
be a bitch!”

“I wonder what Nadia would think to hear you
admit that?” Kra laughed, he knew that Nadia idealized Arshira,
believed the girl to be her own father perfect creation.

Arshira bit her bottom lip. “I respect
Nadia’s endurance of the situation, though why she ever put up with
it I’ll never understand. I must admit that Nadia is a far superior
woman then Aria in most, if not all respects.”

That went without saying knew the ISG. “Well
like you, Nadia loves Sharr. She endures Aria because of that
alone.”

Arshira giggled. “Oswald I didn’t think you
believed in love.”

The General groaned took a bite of specially
provided for him, vegan chicken.

“So, this waiting sucks.” Arshira said edgy
surprised there were no bombs yet.

[Narshin Thryak Palace: Crown Prince
Shikar’s Chambers]

Cross-legged, the Crown Prince meditated on
a round brocaded cushion. Outside his window silver laths of
moonlight shone into his chambers, illuminated his young bronze
body. Eyelids began to flutter, lines of code started to play out
across his inner vision. He entered deeper into an altered state of
thought. A portal opened within his brain, and then the singular
stream of being known to the Universe as Shikar Ramses Drakonis
transferred over into a virtual reality…

A cascade of gold light materialized into
the cybernetic flashcopy of Crown Prince Shikar which waited on the
main Fire Gate and entryway into Char. Shikar’s awareness fully
occupied this replicated, stylized virtual shell. The boy took in
the pleasant high-resolution luminosity; he grinned and then spread
his maroon wings, lifted upward for the pale orange sky.

Not that much later Shikar reached Zoris,
where he landed and walked among the people, many of whom carried
on various everyday tasks. Shikar recalled that his mother told him
this place was like a massive game, filled with quests as well as
rewards, provided one knew where to look. Not only could it be fun,
but insight often could be found here. She also assured that
Falcanians were very lucky to have the ability to journey to this
place.

The Crown Prince happened upon a pillar
inscribed with old style Falcanian Trikash script. Beside the
Telchar shrine waited a reflection fountain, many such pools were
scattered across Char. He stared into the crystal clear liquid
which began to swirl with images: An almond eyed woman, who seemed
familiar to Shikar, yet he could not place her for sure
materialized in the pool. He gasped when he noticed that the
Bengali woman now held a boy child. She called him “Krada”.

“
My lost brother!” Shikar exclaimed to no
one, or so he first thought.

Seldom did his father talk of Krada, and his
mother rarely mentioned the boy that his father had sired on a
Kajra Ra, whom Shikar understood to have been his mother’s very
close friend. Not that he’d ever met Shalimar before. It was almost
as if he did not really exist.

Behind the Crown Prince a silver beam became
a white shrouded figure, hooded, its only seeable feature were
bright blue, electric-eyes, which peered outward from the
immeasurable shadows of a cavernous cowl. The massive form motioned
at Shikar to follow him. It was a Vorchar, guardians of Char, who
functioned as envoys from the Telchar.

“
Tell me where we’re going.” Shikar
demanded.

The hooded Vorchar paused, and then glanced
over its large shoulder, yet did not respond, but instead extended
its silver wings. Clearly Shikar had been meant to do likewise.
Together they flew away from Zoris. Shikar’s guardian Vorchar
brought him beyond Zoris’s tent strewn limits and close to the
slopes of Mount Shira, the fiery peak where according to myth
Falcania had forged her first Kraris.

Fed off of Mount Shira’s lava pits, fire
burned all around. Roughly hewn obsidian arches gripped onto an
amethyst crystalline structure. The whole temple seemed to grow
from out of Mt. Shira’s rocks. Shikar, beside his guardian Vorchar
entered a surprisingly industrial temple complex. Bright red
tickers carried information in the form of Falcanian numerals, ones
and zeros. Organic-metal walls gleamed silver. Spits of vapor blew
from out of an irregular tiled floor, where half-seen bronze
clockwork gears jumbled and turned. At the very center of the holy
place rested a rotating platform. “What is this place?”

“
Vraxis,” said the Vorchar. The shrouded
white shape nudged Shikar toward the temple’s central platform. Not
sure if he should do as asked, the Crown Prince hesitated, but the
Vorchar adamant prodded him to walk the few steps up. Pleased, the
white garbed being nodded and joined the boy where he stood. The
Vorchar produced a blue orb, which sparked with radiant
life-force

Fascinated, Shikar gazed into the orb.

Jolted on, the Vraxis platform shot a rush
of data which enveloped and passed through Shikar’s cybernetic
composition, caused his virtual hair to stand on end as his shell
began to decompile. During this rebirth process Shikar absorbed the
sparking blue orb which merged into a counterpart located at the
core of his own cybernetic shell. It became a megasphere, filled
with great might, and then Shikar began to reintegrate, bits and
bytes recompiled into a new whole.

Sunlight awoke Crown Prince Shikar from his
deep and lengthy mediation, to a newly discovered awareness. He
stood from his cushion, and glanced down at his open palms which
felt charged now by a magnetic resonance. Shikar felt different,
changed on some fundamental level. The Vorchar had unlocked in him
an as yet untapped code that the Telchar programmed the night of
his conception into his already singular DNA.

[New York: Capital Of The Imperium]

He hacked and coughed in the direction of
the hologram which displayed the Falcanian forces that now overran
all of Alaska. He thought that he could use an Arctic Fox right
about now! Romulus sat back in his chair, and then changed the
image of the occupied land with a remote over to Drakonis’s recent
speech. Rather than anger, the Imperator had a whole new respect
for the Falcanian Shotar. This had been a bold move on his part
that had to be respected.

“Our forces search for the nukes even now.”
Gaius Trajan Informed. “If they’re really there, we’ll secure and
disarm them.” He told his lord with pride. “Then we can rain hell
down upon these barbarians with their own weapons!”

“Don’t be a fool Trajan.” Imperator Giovanni
spat, coughed, and felt a burning pain in his chest. He admonished
the Praetorian with a hard glare. “This Falcanian wouldn’t have
attempted such an action unless he could back up his threats. Those
nukes are there, and I am sure that there is a fail-safe in his
strategy, something he kept out of his ultimatum.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because, that’s what I would do.” Barked
Romulus.

The Praetorian nodded. “We cannot let this
terrorism go unchallenged.” The Centurion said indignant any would
dare hold his beloved nation hostage. He sensed doubts from
Giovanni, which made him uncomfortable. The old man had grown soft
in his aged condition and ill health. Other enemies might notice
Giovanni's weakness. “They must be punished, and made to fear
us!”

Ah the fruits of his labors
,
Imperator Julius Romulus Giovanni reflected: This Gaius Aurelius
Trajan born and raised under his new order, been taught all the
propaganda that he had put out to unite the near dead American
Republic and turn it into his shiny new glorious Imperium. Trajan
had become the perfect citizen, taught to look down on outsiders,
to distrust anyone who dared question the Imperium’s right to rule,
and act for his Republic’s security at all times. He did not
apologize. Such was necessary and he would do it all again were he
forced to it.

JR Giovanni knew that Trajan wanted his
crown of olives. The Imperator did not fool himself; this
Praetorian would be his successor. Out of all those who scrambled
for the crown, Trajan at least was honest about his desire for
power. That’s why Romulus placed Trajan in charge of the Iksar’rang
mission, and then let him go ahead with the virus, meant to
annihilate the apparent Falcanian threat. In the end Romulus
thought it better that a military man succeed him, far preferred
over one of those sniffling senators who only complicated what they
touched.

A loud deep gurgling cough erupted from the
Imperator, which caused Trajan to step back. The sign of illness an
opportune time to remind Romulus as to why they had done this.
“They have secrets on that Island, things that could cure you
–“

“Gaius,” said the Imperator. “I know why I
let you go forward, I wanted to preserve my own hide. Perhaps reign
over this empire for many more years. If it wasn’t you pushing me
to attack them, it was always Styx.” A grimace came over Romulus’s
face when he mentioned the cyborg monk. “At least for the time
being I’m free of that Budjah. Let him have the universe, its large
enough... You aren’t so easily disposed of.”