Princess Iris followed her gaze and whispered, “He is my champion. He, along with the remnants of my rescue, requests the immediate retrieval of their fallen comrades.” She motioned over her shoulder to Bishop and King, standing uneasily with the staff in their battle armor. Their smooth black armor reflected the light with their composite plates and darkened the aura of the staff in white uniforms. The empress nodded and then motioned for her to take her rightful place at her side.
“Guntherians,” bellowed Empress Kerrigan, “A great crime was committed against us. In a show of good faith and will, we sent the princess to the Ikor palace to mend our relations diplomatically and to insure good trade. She was held against her will and threatened her life.” She paused for a moment. Almost every Guntherian had known of her capture and of the successful rescue. They hadn’t known of the cost. “A great rescue was sent into action. She and her staff were returned safely and swiftly. The cost, however, was great; too great to bear. Her guard was executed as lowly criminals and many of her rescuers were murdered.” A few gasps were heard from the staff assembly. Several aged officers bowed their heads, understanding the true cost and remembering the lives that were lost under their command. Empress Kerrigan continued, “We will right the cost: we will demand reparations and the soldiers be returned home.”
The grand doors opened again, revealing the young Ikor king. All eyes slowly watched him with hateful glares as he entered the room cautiously with the escort of several guards. His long limbs, four eyes, and silver skin covered in a purple skin-tight suit forced a fear of xenophobia in the already angry assembly. He walked before the empress and was forced to kneel. “You have killed my father,” he stammered, “and forced me here as a prisoner, not as the rightful king I am.” Empress Kerrigan starred at him with intent eyes. King felt rage build up inside her and fighting to take control. The Ikor king searched the assembly, attempting to read their faces for his fate.
“Young king,” she began slowly, “I have brought you before me without chains or wounds. Much less was required of me.” She paused and saw the fear flow from his four, narrow eyes. He attempted to stand, but was held down by a guard. “The faults of your kingdom are not your own and for that you are still alive, but the faults must be righted for their crimes against us.”
“We will have our warriors brought back to us. Your kingdom will be forced into trade and submission during your reign.” Empress Kerrigan raised her hand as a motion for the young king to approach. He attempted to stand, but was pushed back down on his hands and knees. After attempting to stand again, he crawled forward and stopped.
“My people will never be slaves,” he spoke and then spat at her feet. Gasps filled the hall as blades were unsheathed.
No one moved as she stepped forward and spoke, “The choice is slavery or death for your race. At this very moment, an armada twice the size as the one that assisted in your arrival here is in orbit around your home planet.” Her calculating gaze pierced the youth to his core as he understood what was said. She extended her arm again and he rushed to kiss it, a sign of submission for his entire race.
She stood up again, pleased with her success while she motioned for the guards to escort him to a nearby stateroom as she spoke, “Guntherians, we have crossed a threshold in our history. This incident shows that our old ways cannot continue into a new age. Extant people will misinterpret our decree for static borders and peace as weakness. They will tread upon us as the Ikor have and we will be forced into defense of our native space.” She paused as the words were taken in by those in assembly. “We will expand across the stars, defeat any potential aggressors on our own terms, and create a peace that can’t be broken.” Applause broke out with her words. A trembling feeling began at the pit of Gunthix’s stomach as her words sank in.
Empress Kerrigan continued, “I have commissioned and continued projects that will assist us in our campaign for peace. Advanced, autonomous machines that can be built rapidly and in large numbers will be our front line warrior. Every loss of one would be another Guntherian that would be safe.” She paused for more applause. “New suits,” she continued, “that will give the strength and firepower of tanks to individual warriors.” She looked at Gunthix and motioned for him to kneel before her. Styx and Charon emerged from the assembly and flanked him. “Ah, our heroes.” She spoke gently. “These three are the only members of a powerful program. We are already developing more and soon they will be the new cornerstone of our forces.” Applause thundered for a few minutes and then quieted in preparation for more.
“My empress,” begged Gunthix, “this isn’t right.” Silence filled the room as he spoke. Empress Kerrigan stared at him as though he had renounced the empire. “We can’t spread among the stars. We will be seen as villains and the entire universe will rise against us as a common foe.”
The empress glared at him with calculating eyes. “Dear general, we shall scatter them like spiders and stomp them out.”
He stood up, breathed deeply, and then spoke, “One spider may be small, but enough spiders can swarm and topple anything.” Princess Iris smiled at his reference to her. He continued carefully, “Guntherians and Belthonians were a separate people once. We united and became a powerful force. What would stop others from doing the same?” His powerful note was met with more silence.
The empress raised her arms and spoke, “As a united people we are more powerful than anyone in the universe. And anyone that will not unite within our ranks has no need to be within our borders.” The message was clear and Gunthix began to tremble. Two guards appeared from inside the hall and rushed to him.
“Touch me,” he roared, “and there will be bloodshed in the palace for the first time in millennia.” The guards stopped and contemplated his statement. Gunthix knelt one last time and turned. Charon and Styx held their ground beside the empress as they watched him leave the room. Silent gazes followed the assumed traitor as he left the room quietly. Empress Kerrigan waved her hand as a sign for the assembly to leave; she felt drained by his uprising.
A staff member with a long, crooked nose approached the empress as she sat down on her throne. “My empress,” he sniveled, “May I inquire as to know what you plan to do about him?” She looked at him and studied him, searching for a motive. “My decision is just. He will leave and will never be welcomed back unless he chooses to die a death of forgotten honor.”
He sniveled again, “Your wisdom is just and insight is beautiful. May I allow you an insight that the people may see?” She closed her eyes and motioned for him to continue. “My empress, some may see his desertion and see it as a lack of faith in the empire. Worst yet, some may flock to him and a division may occur within the ranks.”
She sighed, then answered him, “Kill him.”
The staff member sniveled again and then answered, “As always, a brilliant idea that no one will question. Would you like to hear of a lowly alternative that you already know?” He was becoming arrogant and Princess Iris felt it was her place to usher him away. Empress Kerrigan opened her eyes and waited for his explanation. “If we kill him, we make him a martyr, which leaves us where we were. If you bring him back and force justice upon him, the people will see that he was a villain and your wisdom is just.” She considered it in her head and agreed by slowly nodding her head.
She looked at Charon and Styx and gave them a small nod. “Bring him back.” The two warriors knelt without hesitation and left the grand hall. As they passed the giant, silver doors, Charon gave Styx a deathly look. Styx responded by smiling.
***
Scanners followed Gunthix in a small frigate as he traveled to a remotely populated moon of the farming planet of Pyatt. A battle group had surrounded the moon in preparation for his capture. Charon and Styx loaded into a lancer and prepared to drop to the surface. At the urging of multiple officers, it was decided that a squad of shock troopers would drop with them and provide support. Charon stared at them as they descended into
the atmosphere. One of the troopers asked her with a smile, “You like what you see? I’ll let you get some when we get back.”
Charon smiled and answered, “You are all going to die.”
***
Gunthix was meditating in full armor on the edge of a cliff. The armory aboard the Royal Eagle hadn't received word yet and gave him his weapons without care. Interrupting his silence was the faint roar of a lancer entering the atmosphere above him. He knew they would come for him, regardless of where he went. Ideas began to ferment in his mind as to their intention for the visit, certainly in the form of Styx and Charon. He listened closely for the quiet opening of chutes and was surprised to hear ten instead of two. He sighed at the inevitable loss of life that was to occur in a short while.
Charon and Styx approached him slowly. The squad of troopers attempted to stealthily form a circle around him, but carelessly made subtle noises.
“What’s with the back-up?” inquired Gunthix without moving.
“Some High Admiral we've never met before forced them to come with us,” answered Styx.
“We tried our best to convince her from ordering the troopers into losing their lives,” added Charon. The same trooper that flirted with her in the lancer giggled. Gunthix stood up, but remained facing the horizon off the cliff. Styx walked in front of him and placed her hand on his shoulder. “I’m not going to try to convince you,” she sighed.
“I wouldn’t ask you to,” he replied, “no one is asking something of you that isn’t for the empire.”
Gunthix hzard a rifle switch off of safety. One of the troopers was feeling uneasy; Gunthix really wished they hadn’t come.
“I’m sorry, Gunthix,” whispered Charon. More clicks sounded as the squad prepared for the confrontation. Gunthix stared into Styx’s eyes and remembered all the emotion that he had blocked out. Styx nodded and Gunthix gave her a kick that launched her off the edge.
A burst of gunfire sounded from the troopers, but Gunthix was already in the air and firing his rifles. Several of the troopers fell to the ground where they stood while another remained standing while he screamed in agony. Charon lunged into the air and collided with Gunthix, sending them over the edge. A few of the troopers scrambled to the edge to look down and watch the apparent attempt at suicide.
A fistfight ensued between the mangled collection of bodies. Gunthix used Charon as a launching platform and dove faster toward the recovering Styx, collided with her and continued to fight. Charon bounced against the cliff wall, regained her balance, and used the cliff as a launch point to dive faster down the wall of the cliff as she fired her rifles. Gunthix dodged the fire and used Styx for a buffer as they hit the ground. He rolled away while Charon continued to fire and then he began shooting his rifles at her as she flew to the ground.
Charon rolled in the air, caught the wall again, and lunged at him. Gunthix followed her with his fire as she dived over it. His fire missed Charon, but killed two of the onlookers at the top of the cliff. One of the bodies fell over the edge and fell ungracefully to the ground. Charon landed and rolled, reloading her rifles as she slid. Gunthix lunged at her feet first and landed a solid connection to her chest, sending her flying into a tree. He turned around to face Styx as she charged him with both blades drawn.
Gunthix drew his blades and deflected her. She caught her balance then jumped into the air. He launched into the air and met her with equal violence. Their blades met, allowing Styx to gain the upper hand, forcing him back to the ground. He grabbed her foot and forced her against him as he slammed her on the ground. She gasped for air as she recovered from the powerful blow that penetrated her advanced battle armor. Gunthix raised a blade in preparation of a killing blow, only to be tackled by Charon into the cliff wall.
The cliff began to crumble, rocks began to fall, and an avalanche followed. Gunthix grabbed Charon and hurled her at Styx outside of the initial fall of rocks. Styx caught her sister and steadied her as Gunthix lead the avalanche with full force. Styx and Charon surrounded him as they ran away from the avalanche, attacking with their blades with force, jumping from among the boulders as they rode the avalanche.
“Why are you doing this, Gunthix?” begged Charon as she was deflected from a powerful attack.
“Because no one else will,” responded the defender while he threw a blade into the air, caught a flying boulder, and hurled it at Styx.
“Don't you want eternal glory,” screamed Styx as she cut the giant stone in half, “For the entire empire?”
Gunthix jumped toward another boulder as he turned to fire a burst at Charon with his free hand, landed on the boulder, and caught the blade he had thrown earlier as he responded, “I'm doing this for the empire.”
The avalanche finally slowed down, dumping the warring trio in a small field within the forest. A short stall in violence crept in as they gave each other a respite. Charon studied Gunthix; he was bleeding on various spots on his body. She raised her visor, “We will never grow old and disappear.”
He raised his visor and responded with the ancient Guntherian motto, “Never die with ammo.” He readied his blades for another charge as a series of explosions began destroying the forest surrounding them.
Gunthix jumped into the air at Charon, but was stopped by a blade in his chest from Styx. She continued pushing the blade with the full force her body could give and rammed Gunthix into a burning tree. He looked down at the blade and reached for it in an attempt to pull it out, but was stopped by Styx’s other blade as she drove it into his shoulder. A spurt of blood emerged from Gunthix’s mouth as he attempted to speak. Charon walked to him and held his face in her hands as the life in his eyes dimmed.
***
Empress Kerrigan was studying ancient star charts in her personal library when a staff member entered the room and knelt before her. “My empress,” he spoke without lifting his eyes, “we have captured him. He is being sent to Exile under full implement of paralytic drugs.”
She put down the ancient paper and asked, “Was any one killed? What damage was done?”
He swallowed hard against his stomach, “All eight troopers that went with them were killed. Between their fight and the orbital bombardment, approximately eight percent of the moon’s surface was destroyed.” She sighed and motioned for him to leave.
XI
If Hell was a planet, it would have been Exile. When it was first charted centuries ago by ancient Guntherians, the planet was a barren desert with no distinguishable terrain or life. Powerful sandstorms destroyed any attempt at colonization for the few resources the planet had and it was left alone. A trio of towering cork screw buildings surrounds the only static building the planet has ever had. The towers contained cell blocks and have the ability to lower when the sandstorms get bad. The static building acts as the star port and guard house. Exile retrieves its supplies and crew rotations by incoming cruisers that are carefully screened by the guarding battleship Iron Pyre.
The prisoners are kept in total darkness in a tiny compartment. They are regularly given large doses of paralytics and are forced into insomnia. If any problem develops with a prisoner, he his chained on the roof of the complex and forced to endure the horrific sandstorms. Most don’t survive a sandstorm and those that aren’t forced to the surface die a slow death in darkness.
***
Bishop and King entered the Colonel's office and waited at the position of attention for the Colonel to acknowledge them. King wished that her only remaining link to Watson's squad had left her to be alone, instead of convincing her to the planet Chantagri to become an officer. She studied the colonel and considered what had forced him to become a ground officer and further endure deadly ground warfare. He motioned for them to sit as he finished examining his console. “This is quite a surprise,” he began after clearing his throat, “I have read thousands of soldier dossiers and this is the first time I have seen one as tight as yours, Bishop.”
“What do you mean, si
r?”
“What I mean is that it shows your training records, shock trooper emblem, and campaign notes. It doesn't tell me anything else other than how bad High Admiral Kai wants you to become a fleet officer. He really wants both of you, but he already has intended positions on his flagship for you as his tactical officer.”
Bishop looked at King in hopes of finding something to say in response. “Her dossier is thicker than yours, noting missions and other small bits of information, but nothing past the Tilarin campaign,” he answered her next question. “Don't worry,” he continued, “You both will be in the next cycle. My curiosity was simply forcing me to ask if there was any reason for the circumstances behind why you are being rushed into the academy as a collective piece.” Bishop and King shook their heads simultaneously as their silence and mystery continued to benefit them.
The Colonel shifted his console to another one and illuminated the one facing Bishop and King. “I am assigning you to a fresh platoon. Your obvious combat experience should complement their lack of it. You'll report to Commander Lyther in the courtyard in an hour. Your officer indoctrination will be alongside non-combat soldiers that are destined for rear logistics and the like. It should be interesting.” They stood up as he motioned them to exit.
Back in the hallway, Bishop began putting issues in mental order. Having survived Shock Trooper training, she wasn't worried. She was concerned; however, about training with fresh troops with no combat experience and a likely amount of disrespect towards those with it.
“I'll meet you there,” said King as she grabbed Bishop's shoulder, “I need to take care of something.” Bishop nodded as King disappeared into a corridor. She would rather enjoy the fresh air in the courtyard alone as she waited for her entrance to training.