Scattered Suns (4 page)

Chapter 5—ADAR ZAN’NH

After exhaustive preparations, the forty-seven intact ships in Zan’nh’s maniple departed for rebellious Hyrillka. Mage-Imperator Jora’h had issued his command, and the Adar would follow those instructions precisely. Even so, the Solar Navy crewmembers aboard the warliners felt more uneasy than when they had recently faced the hydrogues at Hrel-oro.

A rebellion—especially by a Designate—was inconceivable to them. Ildirans were one unified empire bound together by a telepathic network of
thism,
under the benevolent rule of the Mage-Imperator. The Solar Navy had never been called upon to overwhelm and impose order on another Ildiran colony. Yet Adar Zan’nh was leading a maniple of warliners to do exactly that.

Distinctly uneasy, he stood in the command nucleus, maintaining a determined expression as he looked at the Horizon Cluster’s tiara of stars. On the edge of that cluster glimmered the Hyrillka system, whose colonized planet was like a patch of disease that would have to be excised before the rot spread.

“Raise Qul Fan’nh and tell him to be prepared for precision maneuvers to give an impressive and overwhelming show of force. The Hyrillka Designate has to see reason and surrender.”

Zan’nh tried to be stoic, as his hero Adar Kori’nh would have been. As a boy, he had sat within the Prism Palace’s strategy dome, analyzing traditional spaceship maneuvers, practicing with Ildiran weapons. He grew up fascinated with the Solar Navy, studying every section of the
Saga
that related to the military. Kori’nh had taken him under his wing, guided him, named Zan’nh as his successor.

But the old Adar had never faced a situation like this. The rebellious Designate had murdered Zan’nh’s brother Pery’h. Ildiran had killed Ildiran! In order to end the bloodshed and rebellion, Rusa’h and Thor’h must both be taken captive and brought back to stand before the Mage-Imperator. There was no other way.

Hyrillka grew large before them as the group of ornate battleships descended into the system. The bridge sensor operator looked up from his station. “They have detected us, Adar.”

“Good. This will be over soon.” He truly hoped for a logical solution, though he knew that was unlikely. Zan’nh had no desire to assume the role of acting Prime Designate. He had been trained as a military officer and was a talented tactician and commander in the Solar Navy. The responsibility of being Adar was overwhelming enough, but becoming the surrogate Prime Designate as well seemed too much. Since Zan’nh was not even a purebred noble kithman, the very idea went against the grain of his personality, against tradition.

Yet knowing what Prime Designate Thor’h had done, how could he possibly say no?

“Open a channel.” Zan’nh stood against the rail that encircled the command nucleus’s raised platform, calling up the words he had rehearsed en route. “I come in the name of the Mage-Imperator, with instructions to escort Rusa’h and Thor’h back to Ildira. Unless they surrender themselves immediately, the Solar Navy will take them by force.”

The threat left a sour taste in his mouth. He sensed disquiet among his crew. No Ildiran in memory had ever delivered such an ultimatum.

“Adar, a shuttle has just launched from the spaceport near the citadel palace.”

“Is it armed? Is it a military vessel?”

“It appears to be a transport ship, but it is proceeding to orbit at great speed. Several smaller vessels are in pursuit.”

A transmission flickered on the screen and the haggard visage of his brother Thor’h appeared. The gaunt young man’s eyes glittered with a wild desperation. “Zan’nh, protect me! Give me sanctuary!” In the tight image, Thor’h worked the controls of the sluggish transport ship. Sweating, he glanced repeatedly down at his screens, watching the close images of his pursuers.

“Explain yourself, Thor’h.” He intentionally did not use the Prime Designate’s title.

“Our uncle has gone mad! He believes that
he
is the true Mage-Imperator, and he murdered Pery’h—but I have escaped.” Thor’h’s fingers raced across the controls, and a sudden increase in speed threw him back against the pilot’s seat. Alarms shrilled in the background. “I insist that you take me into the protection of a warliner. Rusa’h has already sent ships after me. He will destroy me before he lets me go—I have too much vital information.”

The short-range pursuers opened fire on Thor’h’s escaping craft, but their shots missed.

Brow furrowed in thought, Zan’nh grasped at any thread of hope, of sanity. At last, this was an explanation he could accept. Designate Rusa’h had become unstable after suffering a severe head injury during a hydrogue attack on Hyrillka, but it had been difficult for Zan’nh to believe that Thor’h, the Mage-Imperator’s chosen successor, would willingly turn against the Ildiran Empire.

“Very well, Thor’h. We will take you aboard the flagship warliner.”

“Another vessel has launched from the citadel palace, Adar,” said the sensor operator. “It is a larger ship, a royal shuttle.”

Zan’nh considered this for a moment. “What is its weapons complement?”

“Nothing apparent.”

The communications officer looked very surprised. “Adar! The Hyrillka Designate demands an audience with you aboard the flagship.”

The Hyrillka Designate sent his image from the royal shuttle. “Adar Zan’nh, I am responding to my brother’s summons.” The formerly soft and corpulent Rusa’h appeared thin and hardened, like tempered metal. “It was not necessary to make such threats. We are all Ildirans, are we not?”

“You will come aboard my warliner willingly?” Zan’nh asked in surprise.

“It is my privilege to serve the Ildiran Empire.”

“You killed Designate-in-waiting Pery’h and tried to assassinate the Mage-Imperator. We just watched you firing at Thor’h. You have a strange way of showing your loyalty.”

Rusa’h seemed calm and unshaken. “Once I have had an opportunity to explain myself, you will understand.”

Thor’h broke in again, frantic as his racing shuttle approached the gathered battleships. “I refuse to be aboard the same warliner as the mad Designate. Direct me to another ship, brother. Keep me safe!”

“You will be safe.” After a moment’s consideration, Zan’nh signaled Qul Fan’nh. “Allow Thor’h to dock aboard your warliner. If it makes our mission simpler, we will keep the two separate.”

Thor’h’s shuttle flew erratically, no doubt because the Prime Designate was not comfortable piloting ships for himself. Zan’nh knew his brother had never bothered to learn practical skills, preferring instead to indulge himself with the fine luxuries available to his station.

Qul Fan’nh transmitted a guidance beam, and the fleeing cargo craft drifted directly into a receiving bay on the maniple’s first warliner.

Troubled by Thor’h’s words, the Adar reconsidered what might have happened here. Had the Prime Designate been forced against his will, while Rusa’h alone committed the crimes? Assuming that Thor’h participated in the crime, the Mage-Imperator had commanded Adar Zan’nh to seize both of them and bring them back to Ildira. But if Thor’h was demanding sanctuary, declaring his innocence...Or maybe it was just a trick.

Only a few moments after the Prime Designate’s craft had been taken inside one of the warliners, the Hyrillka Designate’s overloaded and ornate royal shuttle lumbered out of the atmosphere, as if Rusa’h considered himself to be in a spectacular procession. Zan’nh remembered his uncle’s penchant for banquets and pleasure mates and frivolous skypageants.

The oddest part of the situation, both with Thor’h and with “mad” Designate Rusa’h, was that the Adar could not sense them at all. Because of his bloodline, Zan’nh’s connection to the
thism
was strong enough that he should have been able to feel his brother and his uncle. But he detected only a blank grayness from Thor’h’s shuttle and from Rusa’h’s larger royal escort. Had they consumed so much mind-muddying shiing as to be impenetrable to another Ildiran’s thoughts? He could think of no other explanation. How else could they simply remove themselves from the
thism
network?

Many things about these circumstances made him uncomfortable, but Adar Zan’nh did not let his soldiers see his concerns. Already he could sense waves of relief from the Solar Navy crewmen. They had dreaded the possibility of direct conflict with their fellow Ildirans.

Zan’nh had led these fighters in a recent ineffective defense of Hrel-oro. There, he had lost one warliner and seen a second one crash. Many crewmembers had died fighting against the deep-core aliens. He would not let any more of them fall because of his poor decisions.

“Adar, the Hyrillka Designate is preparing to enter our docking bay.”

Zan’nh nodded. “Gather seventy of our best soldiers and protocol officers as a standard reception committee. They will demonstrate the proper formalities as we receive him into custody and escort him to quarters. Once we return to Ildira, the Mage-Imperator will dispense his justice. Our job is only to deliver them for trial.”

“Will you lead the reception, Adar?” the primary protocol officer asked.

“No. That would show him too much honor. I will remain here. My uncle has committed unthinkable crimes. In light of the Designate’s recent erratic behavior, I want to keep him isolated.”

The gaudy royal shuttle landed in the primary docking bay without incident. Uniformed soldiers and ceremonial guards accompanied the protocol officers as they hurried to accept the Hyrillka Designate’s surrender. The warliner’s heavy doors sealed shut, trapping the new arrivals.

From the command nucleus Zan’nh observed via his small screens. Seventy members of the reception committee filed in perfect ranks across the open deck to stand in front of the ornate royal shuttle. The protocol officer used a signaler to call his followers to attention.

Three boarding doors of the royal shuttle unfolded. “Prepare to receive the Designate,” the protocol officer called.

Suddenly, fully armed Hyrillkan rebels boiled out of every opening. Their movements were chaotic and unpredictable, like a flurry of beetles racing away from a fire.

Zan’nh shouted a warning over the intercom, but the reception committee was already reacting. The protocol officer ordered the soldiers and guards to change formation—just as the Hyrillkans opened fire with shockwave energy weapons. Stun-blasts mowed down the waiting Solar Navy crewmen. They fell like heavy bundles of rags to the deck.

From the command nucleus, Zan’nh yelled, “Send more troops! Full teams to the docking bay, now!”

Rebels continued to pour out of the two shuttles, well over a hundred of them, each one armed. So many! They must have been crammed shoulder-to-shoulder inside the royal shuttle and the military escort craft.

At last, Rusa’h’s beautiful pleasure mates emerged, carrying themselves as if they too were hardened warriors. Long knives were strapped to their shapely hips, and they carried energy weapons. Narrowing their eyes, two of the women shot down the primary protocol officer, and he crumpled to the floor.

In the midst of the firefight, a group of attender kithmen scuttled out of the royal shuttle. They carried a portable chrysalis chair that looked exactly like the Mage-Imperator’s. Leaning forward in the counterfeit chair, Rusa’h smiled as he assessed the carnage.

Weapons fire continued inside the docking bay, but the Hyrillka Designate’s rebels quickly overwhelmed the crew, taking them all prisoner. Two pleasure mates raced to the door controls before Zan’nh’s reinforcements could arrive. The women sealed every entrance to the bay, code-locked the controls, then smashed them to block all access.

Finally the Hyrillka Designate turned to where he knew Adar Zan’nh would be observing him through imagers. He sat back in his reproduction of the Mage-Imperator’s royal seat. “Adar, your crewmembers are only stunned. However, I will kill every one of these hostages unless you surrender this warliner to me.”

Chapter 6—PRIME DESIGNATE THOR’H

After his cargo craft docked aboard Qul Fan’nh’s warliner, Thor’h schooled his expression and manner to convey urgent distress, then climbed out, accompanied by seven personal guards.

The Solar Navy troops met him with appropriate courtesy and respect, but Thor’h snapped at the first escort: “Take me to your command nucleus. I would speak with your qul immediately! He must be warned.”

The crewmen did not question his orders. Though supposedly disgraced, Thor’h was still the son of their Mage-Imperator. “Follow us, Prime Designate. Qul Fan’nh will be honored to receive you.”

Thor’h and his seven guards adopted a brisk pace to keep the escorts moving and sustain a sense of urgency.

Until he had broken free of the tangled bonds of his father’s
thism
, Thor’h had not understood that Ildirans were like marionettes controlled by invisible soul-threads. The Mage-Imperator’s people simply did not know how to be sufficiently suspicious of other Ildirans. Fools! For one of their people to turn against the Empire was as unbelievable to them as a man’s left hand suddenly taking up a knife and trying to cut off his right.

Thor’h knew that just such an unexpected shock was necessary to save the Ildiran Empire from its internal weakness. Because he believed in Rusa’h’s vision and knew that his uncle was destined to be the true Imperator, Thor’h would do what was necessary for his race—even if it meant he must turn against his brothers and Mage-Imperator Jora’h himself. If all Ildirans allowed themselves to see the purity and truth of the Lightsource, then this struggle need not be a messy one.

Nevertheless, Thor’h suspected it would be bloody.

His timing was well coordinated with Rusa’h’s. When Thor’h arrived with his seven converted guards at Qul Fan’nh’s command nucleus, he noted that his uncle’s royal shuttle had already been accepted into the flagship warliner. Surprises would begin momentarily.

Standing straight-backed in his Solar Navy uniform, the maniple commander turned to greet Thor’h as he entered the bridge area. Tall and thin, the qul touched his fist to his heart in salute. “You honor me with your presence aboard my warliner.”

“I thank you for your assistance in this emergency, Qul.” Thor’h strode directly toward Fan’nh, and his seven Hyrillkan guards followed him into the command nucleus. Before the escort crewmen could enter the bridge behind them, one of Thor’h’s guards spun and sealed the doors.

Everything happened within seconds. Qul Fan’nh blinked in surprise. The locked-out escort crewmen began to pound on the door, calling out questions.

Thor’h stepped up to the maniple’s commander. A slim crystal blade dropped out of his sleeve and into his grip. Without hesitation, he swept his arm upward and drove the glassy dagger under Qul Fan’nh’s chin, deep into his throat.

Eerily silent, Thor’h’s loyal guards spread out, drawing their own weapons. Qul Fan’nh’s confused bridge crew staggered up from their stations, some of them crying out in shock.

The subverted Hyrillkan guards had practiced techniques of swift assassination. Their blades flashed. Trapped crewmembers screamed. One woman managed to trigger an alarm before two guards fell upon her and slit her throat.

Thor’h didn’t need to bloody his hands again. With one foot, he shoved the twitching body of Qul Fan’nh away from the command rail. In moments, everyone else in the bridge area had been slaughtered, and Prime Designate Thor’h took his place in command of the Ildiran battleship.

Alarms continued to ring through Qul Fan’nh’s warliner, and Thor’h gruffly commanded his fellow conspirators to shut them off. By now, the rest of the crew was aware that something had gone terribly wrong, but they could do nothing about it.

“Engage our defenses.” All seven of his comrades knew how to operate the weapons systems of a Solar Navy warliner.

Aboard the Adar’s flagship, Rusa’h had succeeded in seizing the landing bay. The Designate used the communications systems in his royal shuttle to broadcast a powerful signal heard across all forty-seven of the warliners. “Adar Zan’nh, I am ready to begin executing hostages—one at a time, every three minutes—until you surrender these ships to me.”

Most Ildirans could not comprehend such abomination. Smiling to himself, Thor’h wondered how long his brother could hold out against the agony of innocent victims. He doubted Zan’nh, who idolized his mentor, the war hero Adar Kori’nh, would surrender as quickly as Rusa’h hoped.

Thor’h thought of a way he could increase the stakes. His guards moved bloody bodies out of the way and manned the vital stations in the warliner’s command nucleus. “Power all of our weapons and prepare to fire. Targeting at my discretion.”

On the main screen, he studied the other ships in the maniple, choosing his first target. All of the warliners’ weapons systems had been enhanced for direct combat against the hydrogues. The firepower would certainly be sufficient for what Thor’h had in mind.

The good Adar would never open fire against Ildiran citizens—especially not when the majority of those aboard were unsuspecting Solar Navy crewmen. Zan’nh simply wouldn’t be able to stand the guilt.

Prime Designate Thor’h had no such compunctions. He could focus on the larger goal and accept a certain level of sacrifice. Forty-six battleships would be sufficient for Imperator Rusa’h’s purposes. At least one of them was expendable.

He prepared to open fire.