Rise of Aen (28 page)

“You are Aen, the mighty Harbinger of lore aren’t you?” she asked with a hint of sarcasm. “What is it that has you at a loss for
words?”

“Forgive me,” he finally broke through his verbal barrier, “But I am still awestruck at the majestic beauty you have. It had me at a loss for words in the Council meeting and once again
now.”

He could see her blush—or her race’s version of embarrassment as her cheeks seemed to glow a more golden hue than the regular orangish tan—and her face lit up as she smiled. But her body language was like any other woman who was giddy and in love and Aen knew he had to change the subject or this chat would quickly degrade into something less than what needed to be
accomplished.

“I was trying to contact the Empress, but instead I have found
you.”

“Everyone searches for her,” Lyxia replied, “but she reaches out to those who she wishes to.” She had seemingly regained her stately composure once
more.

“So by calling out to
her…”

“You are wasting what valuable time you have left to prepare for the Husk. Is there anything I can help you with in her
stead?”

It was a question Aen wasn’t prepared for and had definitely not anticipated. What answers could she give, what knowledge could she share with him? He wasn’t sure if he would wait for the Empress to contact him or not, but without hesitation it was his heart that drove him to
continue.

“Maybe you would be able to tell me about these Husk we are facing. Strategies, tendencies, even weaknesses, any of it would be a great help.” He heard his voice say without
thinking.

“The Husk are an enigma; no small group of them is quite alike. To prepare one way for them one time then face another group of the Harvesters would be pointless. They are rogues in the cosmos, originating from a common clan but branched out separately eons ago. Somewhat resembling the J’Kariin, although much smaller, they ceased being simply organic and merged themselves with their technological
constructs.”

“Cyborgs?” Aen
asked.

“That is more of a human term, one I have recently learned, but not too far off-track. I would characterize them more as organic powered machines. Although our species can live for long periods, these things can outlive the Empress herself; some of the Guild think they are the first species in the galaxy, so there is no telling how old they really are and not much is known about them before they were….tainted by
machines.”

“So an EMP is a good defence
weapon?”

“Would one affect a human?” she countered. “They are not driven by the same electrical impulses as most machines. Remember my words: they are organically powered machines. To beat them you have to obliterate the hive mind aboard each vessel and that I am afraid is beyond Terra Sol’s
capabilities.”

“But is it beyond mine?” Aen
interjected.

“That is the question, is it not? I am afraid that, other than the prophets themselves, none of us know what we want to know about you other than the ageless fortunes of history. The tale of the Harbinger is older than the Empire itself—the prophet who saw the vision has long passed from this plane of existence. I have read the reports from your AI and although thorough, his findings are little more than inconclusive in nature. The true measure of what you are and what you will accomplish is yet to be
seen.”

“So again, it falls on my shoulders to be the hero of sorts.” He said bowing his head in
frustration.

“Words like that have no place on your lips. Terra Sol’s culture idealizes heroes—worships them even—but in our culture, a hero is almost always one who has died for the cause. I for one do not wish that fate for you. I would like to get to know you after all this is over; there is something about you that makes me...want more. Does that make
sense?”

“It would be an honor to get to know you Council Lyxia.” Aen bowed in respect for her. “And it gives my soul pleasure to know that someone out there wishes to know me as well. I will join you on your ship after this is all over and we can share our stories and so forth, if that is what you
wish.”

Again, she blushed and smiled. “Yes, I do wish
that.”

With a ceremonial bow, she stepped back and ended the holo-link. Aen stood quietly in his place in complete awe of what had happened. He had gleaned great insight on what his foe was, and also had the warmth to know that he didn’t have to be alone from here on out. To him, being wanted by someone was enormous and helped him put a few pieces of his broken heart and soul back
together.

Lyarran Vessel Dark Light, Uncharted Space -
Four Months and Eighteen Days until Arrival

The transmission had been off for a bit now, but Lyxia was
unable to leave the room. Gone was her usual composure,
replaced by the rush of emotions of a youngling in heat. No, that was the wrong way to describe what she was feeling. It was something more, something deeper than just pure lust. This creature mesmerized her; he made her feel like she was weightless in her own heart. There was no denying what she was feeling for this Aen, but the timing couldn’t be
worse.

She remembered stories from the Ifierin of going into battles for the very world their lovers were on; all the while having one’s mind in two places instead of one. Distractions cost lives and if she was distracted during this...the thought of it bothered her deeply. Taking deep breaths, she tried to regain herself to rejoin the
crew.

But all she could think of was Aen. She wanted to know what his skin felt like, what he smelled like, what the sound of his heartbeat was like; she wanted to know everything there was to know about him and not wait another second. He dominated her thoughts and her heart, all she wanted was more of him. Her head fell to her hands in a desperate attempt to gain control of her
emotions.

“We are ready to jump any time now,
Council.”

The voice startled her—she hadn’t even heard the damn door open! Lyxia was furious with herself. This creature had her so wound up she was not her usual self any longer. With a deep breath, she choked back the rush of emotion and stood tall once
more.

“Good, prepare all stations for jump space and commence when ready. I will be right there Jai.” She said to her longstanding Ops chief who was the one who had snapped her out of it. Jai was a friend from the Academy and the two had been close ever
since.

“Yes, Council.” Jai replied. “Oh, and that Harbinger is….wow. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I think he is into you as much as you are into
him!”

Lyxia blushed slightly again—three times in one day! “Thank you Jai, but those comments we can keep to ourselves, can’t we?” she said to her friend as she
winked.

“Yes Council!” Jai snapped with a smile and a wink in
return.

Lyxia patted her friend on the shoulder and led her out into the Ops Con where both returned to their stations. She felt the wave of uneasiness hit her as the jump engines engaged; she had always hated that feeling as her insides felt scrambled for a few seconds before the jump space field stabilized. It hit everyone aboard differently. Some were immobilized with nausea and some felt little to nothing at all. Lyxia was right in the middle of that range as she felt sick but was able to continue with little problem. Once the feeling had passed, she muttered a few ancient obscenities under her breath and returned to her perch. There was a ton of things to do between now and their arrival at Terra Sol and she knew she had to keep herself focussed on the task and not think about this Aen like a child in love—easier said than done
though.

As she returned to her reports, she noticed that the Dark Light was still technically online with the Amarra; that clever AI had left a backdoor shunt in the original transmission so he could keep lines of communications open and to track their whereabouts. Lyxia knew the shunt would work both ways and began to smile. Quickly, she began to bring up battle logs of incidents with the Husk. While they were mostly just useless battle reports to the Fleet, they could be of major help to the Harbinger on Terra Sol. He truly was doing everything to help his planet and every bit she could do to help she would. She just hoped that he wasn’t throwing his life away for a lost
cause.

Lyarran Vessel Amarra, Southern Pacific Ocean Floor -
Four Months and Eighteen Days until Arrival

Aen poured over the incoming data bursts, all the while struggling with the written translation of the Paxyn dialect. These were all logs of battles the Imperial fleet had with the Husk, some of which dated back almost ten thousand years ago. Strategies, tactics and maneuvers used both by the Husk and against them were perfectly outlined along with the results of each encounter. Some were written by survivors of the battle rather than the ship’s commander as most hands had been lost in the fight. There were even shockingly detailed reports of worlds that were torn asunder by the Harvesters that the Fleet had arrived too late to save. These few instances drew his attention as he needed to know what to expect the enemy to do. The Lyarrans were not going to get to Earth on time and Aen wanted to prepare for the
worst.

This data-sharing was unexpected, but stopped Aen’s mind from going haywire thinking about the Paxyn Councillor because up until the files uploaded, it was her and only her that he could concentrate on. Never in his wildest dreams did he expect to fall for someone else—part of him expected that his heart would be locked away for ever—and especially now, of all times. There was little he could do about it though; over-thinking his feelings with her would lead him down a road he did not wish to
travel.

So he flipped through the reports and studied them in great detail as he holed up in his “nest” of sorts in the armory. He had found a space that was his alone and even dragged a cot from one of the crew quarters so he could be comfortable. This was his space as he felt uncomfortable setting up in rooms once occupied long ago; too many ghosts in this place for his liking for him to be there. Little squeaks and rattles fluttered about in the emptiness, shadows danced about out of the corner of his eyes now and then. But here in the armory there was none of that, and so he felt most at home
here.

Wearing only the tight-fitting under-layer of the Lyarran armour—the top was undone and hung around his waist—Aen strutted about the large room with his face steadily focused on the data pad in his hand. His body was finally healing as only a slight redness remained where once a gaping hole lay in his torso and chest. It was times like this when his skin took on a more human hue than the Lyarran orange that he had gotten used to. But he paid little heed to this, his attention solely on his
studies.

The research in these files was outstanding, and he was only a few deep in what was still a gathering piling of files over a hundred in number now. Aen sunk back into his cot and stretched out to relax a bit to get more comfortable; it was obvious he was going to be here a
while.

United Nations Headquarters, New York City -
Four Months and Seventeen Days from Arrival

Patterson stood on the steps of the U.N. building, smoking a cigarette to relieve his tension. The past few hours had been an emotional roller-coaster and it had frayed his nerves like nothing had before. His hands trembled as he held the smoke to his lips for a
drag.

The ruling had come down a half hour ago, and though they had taken many of the General’s recommendations, the decision to leave the population in the dark about the coming danger troubled him deeply. He, for one, would like time to prepare for the end, not panic in the final hours. But the Security Council thought it best to hide the fact of the approaching fleet until they were visible with the naked eye, to avoid mass hysteria. The majority of the people would meet their end terrified and in disarray—not a fitting way to meet one’s
maker.

So that was that; now all that was left to wait. In a little more than five months, the Earth would burn and humanity would face its toughest test. Patterson had been given strategic control of the planetary defences; a post he truly didn’t want. Now the decision of which lives to sacrifice was on his conscience and he felt his ulcer acting up from it
already!

While standing on the steps, his mind raced to inventory what needed to be done. Already, he had decided to divert all nuclear missile capable submarines to hide underneath the Antarctic ice shelf to mask their heat signatures; Patterson had a feeling he might need to save these assets for the final
push.

Aircraft carriers and destroyers would be more difficult to hide, leaving a tough choice on where to place them or let them fall in the initial assault wave. Ground based assets could be hidden in smaller towns across the globe, enabling them to survive the opening days as well. But they would have to put up some kind of fight when the enemy arrived—after all, they weren’t just going to roll out the red carpet for the
invaders!

But the asset he so coveted—the creature Taylor and his scientists cooked up—had disappeared and Patterson had no way of finding him. If he could only include this thing in the planning, what an incredible ace in the hole he would
have!

“Excuse me, sir?” a private stood at attention with salute to his left. “The military leaders are ready for
you.”

“Are they now?” Patterson said coldly. “Well let’s not keep them
waiting.”

The young private spun and marched ahead, leading the way to the teleconference room. The general followed at a much slower pace, flinging his half-finished cigarette off to the side as they re-entered the building to the disgust of some onlookers. What did he care what these people thought of him, they would be dead in a few days anyway. He was led down a side hall, and after a few twists and turns they walked through an open door to a smaller conference room. The walls were covered in television screens; each screen holding the face of a country’s military commander. Patterson snorted a quick laugh; it took this to bring all these men together that had aimed to kill one another for so
long!