Starblade (21 page)

“Kheira speaks the truth,” the Queen
said.

Nadia glanced at her Valküri Sisters. She
communicated her findings to them with her mind. They were elated.
The path to godhood now lay in their grasp. The image of the genome
spiraled in her head and Nadia began to outline her own breeding
schemes.

Sharr suddenly stood. All other thoughts
vanquished from his mind as he strode down his dais and made ready
his airfoil for flight. He marched straight to the great doors of
the hall. Drakorian Guards followed, ready to serve their Shotar in
his needs.

The gathered Nine stunned at the sudden
departure of Sharr broke out in a clamor.

On the causeway that attached the domed hall
to the island, Sharr extended his great black-wings. He launched
himself into the sky with an electric blue burst of his jets and
headed for the mainland.

“Let me go!” Mia shouted as she struggled
against the firm grip of the two blue armored Tahru protectors.

Sharr landed, inches from where the ark
rested where The Heart of The Phoenix had been placed. The Heart
had called out to him. Someone had violated it.

“What did you do?” demanded the Shotar,
roughly grabbing Mia's wrist.

Mia began to cry at the Shotar’s anger. She
wished Frederika were here. Mia did not know how to handle the
anger of the Falcanian Lord. “I… I didn't mean to do anything
wrong!” touching the Phoenix Heart had been an accident. She'd been
taken in by its hypnotic gleam.

“Take her to the palace. Not the nodor, but
the dungeons,” the Shotar ordered.

The Drakorian obeyed and escorted the young
girl back to the Imperial manse.

A twinge of remorse pierced him as she was
dragged to the dungeons. Mia was one of his favorites, for her to
have violated such a sacred object demanded he address the
transgression with the maxim response.

He launched himself upward. His wings
fluttered, caught the air, and he made for his palace to
contemplate what he was to do about the incident.

Her body trembled as Kheira placed her right
hand to her temple. Ever since the encounter with Shiertar, she
felt different. Something unusual had begun inside her, inside her
cells. She sat down on the empty dais, weary from the day's events.
The Dreikatha hall had cleared and she was alone. Or so she had
thought.

“Are you okay, Princess?”

“Colonel Aranskrai.” Kheira looked up and
forced a smile on her face. Her skin illuminated a little more than
usual. “Yes, I am fine. Maybe a little overwhelmed, but I'm
okay.”

Kulcarin's brow furrowed in concern. “You
should go back home and rest. I'll escort you myself.”

“Thank you,” Kheira said and stood, placing
a hand on his shoulder. “I should congratulate you. Father says you
and Sitara are to be wed soon.”

Kulcarin smiled at the young girl. “Sitara
has finally come around to the idea. You know how stubborn your
sister can be.” Once he had talked it over with Sitara, she agreed
to marry him. Mostly she was concerned that he would make her give
up her command to stay home and produce eggs. She wasn't ready for
that yet.

He let his hand rest on his sheathed Kraris.
The Princess noticed the gesture, which to her seemed a perfectly
normal action for a Drakorian.

Slaughter this child! Kranix demanded. She
has knowledge which threatens us.

I will not! She is a child of my Shotar. To
harm her will raise questions, Kulcarin said. Let us dispatch of
Urksa.

Kranix needed to handle Kheira with more
subtlety. Perhaps he could even use her? Kulcarin's dislike of
Urksa could be a leverage he must remember to exploit.

Yesssss. We can do that.

“Colonel Aranskrai!” Kheira pitched her
voice with command. “Are you listening?”

“My Lady, I am sorry. I was just thinking
about today's events.” He cleared his throat. “The Universe is
often filled with the unexpected, is it not?”

Kheira gave her soon to be brother-in-law a
weary smile. “Yes, it is.”

She let herself lean on his arm and Kulcarin
placed a brotherly arm around her.

[October 1, 2030. Windsor Castle, England.
One Month Before DSV Excalibur’s Departure]

Commander LaSalle was somewhat astounded
when he received the private Royal summons to Windsor. Gee had
expected all official meetings concerning the
DSV Excalibur
to be handled by the Prime Minister. The alliance with the Imperium
was part of Archibald Blud’s schemes and the King himself had
remained well apart from it.

“We are most pleased to meet you, Guillaume
LaSalle,” the King greeted.

His Majesty Odin Battenberg wore his blond
hair longer then had been current custom and he sported also a
trimmed beard to go with it. Much about the King was not typical,
it could be rightly said that Odin strongly favored those Northern
barbarians who long ago had helped settle and conquer these British
Isles. He leaned on a heavy stone fireplace dressed in a forest
green tunic, regaled with chains of office and many Royal
Orders.

Upon seeing the impressive form of King
Odin, LaSalle bowed at his waist to acknowledge his Sovereign Lord.
“I am humbled to be summoned, your Majesty.”

The Monarch grinned. “Please call me
Odin.”

To be asked to address the King in such an
informal way broke protocol and wasn’t normal for such meetings.
All the same, Gee would humor his Majesty who was well known for
his many quirks.

“Guillaume, I chose you for this mission
because you are very special.”

“I’m just the son of a Gaskin goose farmer
and a loyal soldier, sir.”

“Have you any family?” inquired the
King.

“Only my wife and son. My parents passed
away years ago.”

“I’ve a cousin. A German girl. Hot little
bird as I understand it.” His majesty sat in a leather chair and
bid LaSalle to do the same. “Lord Blud envisions that I grow this
house’s royal sapling into a mighty oak. His desires are for me to
extend my enhanced offspring across the Empire. Blud would be just
as pleased to own many more super soldiers with my talents. Perhaps
even turn our eye to the old colonies?” The remark made it clear
the King knew his place in Lord Blud’s agenda. “Is it true
Guillaume? Xavier LaSalle found you in a basket on his doorstep?”
Asked Odin, intelligent green eyes keen with interest.

“So he always told me.” Apparently his
Majesty had done his research Commander LaSalle realized.
“Childless, they never questioned from whence I came.”

Behind a closed fist the King hid a pleased
expression. “Guillaume, have you heard of a company called
GenKon?”

“Only in a whisper.” Gee hesitated, unable
to hide his reaction from Odin. “Xavier, I once heard him speak of
it.”

The King's gaze pierced LaSalle, talking no
more of GenKon. “You and I are very important. Ours is a singular
destiny, to become Lords of the Earth and reach to the stars. Be
wary of the Centurion sent to watch you and Captain Braden,” the
King warned. “Remember this is a fool’s errand, one that shall
gravely cost our planet more than it has already lost.”

[The Present: DSV Excalibur, Orbit of Planet
Ksar]

Gee peered out his cabins porthole down at
the purple globe of Ksar. Buzzing around the planet were gray and
orange Iksar’rang worm-ships. Before coming here, he thought the
Imperium to be a police state. The Imperator was but an amateur
compared to these Iksar’rang in regard to such military
matters.

Cole went down to have a look around.
LaSalle had no interest in joining his fellow officer’s
planet-side. At least for now, the Centurion Trajan remained off
ship, and not looking over his shoulder.

LaSalle prepared a personal report to send
to his King. “Odin, I humbly recommend that we find better allies
than the Imperator and his Centurions.” LaSalle wrote out in his
precise longhand. “During our trip here, we encountered something
of interest. A Falcanian FS-9 Raptor which tracked us. It’s likely
they know what we are up to. I’ve been doing research concerning
these Falcanians. If half of it is true, it’d be in our interest to
become their friends…”

It is the character of Imperial dynasties to
reinvent themselves, often from out of a desire to hide ignoble
roots. House Drakonis is no different in this regard. According to
my grandfather's parentage, we began as Visals and the Kreis. On
Sharr's maternal side, the Visals were by trade pharmacists, an
honest vocation to be sure. Due to questionable Saxe-Coburg blood,
a genetic prank by way of the Visals, Sharr Khan’s third wife, my
great-aunt Arshira, turned out to also be his distant cousin. None
of which would have been so were it not for the schemes of his own
paternal line where things become far more dubious. Rumors claim
the Kreis fortune had been amassed by raiding and the last head of
this House remained in the family business at the time he met his
end. Falcanian history shall forever hail the brother’s Sharr and
Talik as Sons of the Iron Dragon. Perhaps something noble did come
out of a dynasty which had been built from gears forever turned in
a constant web of manipulation? After all, my mother is a product
of this very dynastic mechanism, and she has tried to bring peace
to a galaxy fraught in turmoil.

--- Prince Zarhur Sharr Aranskrai

The large Drakorian guards ignored her as if
they were ordered to allow her to pass. Certainly the Drakorian
would not permit any errant person into the presence of their
Shotar unless they expected that person to be there. She pushed
open the doors and found Sharr at his desk, staring at his
holocompass.

“How can you do this?” Frederika demanded.
“You’re not going to beat this girl. It’s barbaric!”

The blonde leaned on his black wooden desk.
Frederika was personally angry with Sharr. In the midst of her
fury, she realized she had made a mistake. She fell in love with
Falcanian culture. And with Sharr.

But at the moment, she felt betrayed. Sitara
had warned her this place would not be Utopia, and it appeared the
Princess had been right. Oberon lectured her all the time about
“going native”. These were their competitors, potential enemies who
happened to hold many secrets which they could use to strengthen
their empire.

“The girl broke our law,” the Shotar said.
“She will be punished as we see fit.”

Sharr stood and crossed the room, his tail
undulating like a lion on the prowl. He confronted the little minx
who had barged into his office. The fact that she had done this
wasn't unexpected, nor were it a trait that the Shotar considered a
liability in this particular female. Such a attribute also existed
in his queen. He liked women with a bit of attitude.

“What is the Phoenix Heart?” Her emerald
eyes blazed at the thought of his barbarism. “Why is it of such
importance that a girl must be caned for its violation?”

Sharr exhaled and took Frederika by her
upper arm, holding her in a vice-like grip. “The Heart is the
source, the well of souls,” he said calmly. “It is the core of the
Falcanian soul, heaven wrought real on Earth. There a Falcanian's
spark transcends and awaits Phoenix Fire. The great rebirth.”

Frederika blinked at this knowledge. She
hadn't expected him to reveal this to her.

“It’s a power source. A regulator of our
over-soul,” he continued. “The Heart is the central processor of
the Rashalon Engine. It is a repository of all we are and wish to
become. It is our hope that if Falcania should fall, a new genesis
for our species will dawn before the stars.” A green flash
reflected off his eyes. “I am its eyes and hands and so shall be my
scion for time yet to come. Within that blood-red orb, our myths
are real. All those who have gone before await rebirth,
reconfiguration into new bodies so that they may once again soar
among the living. Its collective knowledge heightens us, and makes
each Falcanian a greater whole.”

Frederika gasped and tried to pull away from
him. Her own strength tremendous, yet he held her in her place.
“You say it is the core, that it's a cybernetic heaven?”

“That is it precisely.”

“But... But what if there is a true heaven?”
Frederika did not think herself very religious, though certainly
she had certain spiritual beliefs. She always thought one’s soul
moved on after death to bigger things. “What happens if there is an
afterlife where souls go to dwell?”

“Nature shall adapt,” the Shotar told her.
“My vital spark, as all Falcanian sparks shall return to the
source, to enhance us all. And each at their appointed time shall
be reborn in generations forward.”

It came across to Frederika as an arrogant
response, the presumption that nature would adapt to Falcanian
whims. She found her own reaction ironic given whom and what she
was. There existed little doubt to her that The Phoenix Heart must
be the mysterious power source which Oberon had mentioned being
scanned by their surveillance satellites. What kind of power did it
produce? Was it some kind of collective psychic force, the dynamism
of the Falcanian ego-self formed into a mental storm for each
Falcanian to draw upon?

She understood why to touch the orb could be
a transgression that deserved punishment, but Frederika knew Mia
should not be punished so harshly for her careless actions. “If
someone is to be caned then let it be me. She… Mia cannot endure
such pain. I will take her place.”

Frederika knew her physical superiority and
her tolerance level. She had suffered pain before. Mia did not
share her engineered, Morningstar advantage. This choice seemed
simply to be the most logical outcome to solve the problem.