Frontline

Our ship is being re-supplied, restocked, and new troops and materials will be coming on-board. I have already put out a call to a full third of the ships still within our borders. Once we are assembled and prepared, we shall disembark to rendezvous with the forces fighting on the frontline. After we have gathered our full strength, we shall launch our offensive on the Golden flagship. With any luck, this long war will soon be brought to a decisive and victorious end.

-Emperor Xandarius, addressing his command crew above Imperial Military Center Epsilon

Their ship broke atmosphere and raced toward the Throneship. The massive vessel, shaped not unlike Ansaria’s Thundersword, minus the handle, was in gyosynchronous orbit with the planet, slowly making its may over the north pole. Already there was a multitude of vessels coming and going from the ship, preparing it for its return to battle with the Imperium.

Ansaria watched their destination draw closer and closer from the bridge. Tread was piloting the ship, while Alvara was doing what she could for Slog with the med kit on board. The simple fact was that they did not have the proper facilities aboard to reattach Slog’s arm; just one more reason to hurry to the Throneship. Ansaria had bandaged her own wound as best she could, but she knew she too needed proper medical attention before her wound became worse. Still, she’d refused to allow Alvara or Tread to help her. Their attention was needed elsewhere.

As they came within visual range of the huge ship, Ansaria knew it was time to make their presence known. Fighting back the fatigue, lingering pain and mild clouding of the drugs she had administered, she gathered her thoughts. When she was ready, she nodded to Tread to open a communications channel.

“Imperial Throneship, this is Sergeant Ansaria Dormus of His Majesty’s Imperial Army. We have information vital to the Emperor’s safety and request immediate permission to dock. Be advised, we also have wounded on bored that require immediate medical attention. Please respond.”

On board the Throneship, Diamond was trying his level best to keep his mind together. For the last few days, he had become less and less coherent, his thoughts more and more muddled as his mind tried to process the orders that had become hardwired into him. The voice was drowning out everything around him, but the message he received managed to penetrate the confused mess of his mind. Still, since he was far too distracted to handle the message, he did the only thing he could: referred it up.

“Administrator, incoming message for you.”

Delta accessed the communication network and appraised the message.

“Say again, this is Sergeant Ansaria Dormus of His Majesty’s Imperial Army. We have information vital to the Emperor’s safety and request immediate permission to dock. Be advised, we also have wounded on bored that require immediate medical attention. Please respond.”

It took Delta nanoseconds to access the file he needed. Sergeant Ansaria. Assigned to Sand Base One on a backwater colony. Wanted in connection to the destruction of private property, the theft of private property, and dereliction of duty. By all rights, she should be blown out of the sky. Still, if what she said was true, he couldn’t very well ignore her request. He contacted the officer in charge of the hanger bay.

“Commander Alked, there is a ship requesting permission to dock with us. Tell them permission is granted, but that they are to remain on their ship until we say otherwise.”

“As you wish, Administrator,” came the reply.

This development would be dealt with in due time, thought Delta. After all, there was so much to do before the final battle.

Diamond continued to be drowned out by the voices.

Ansaria’s stomach was twisting itself into knots. So far there had been no reply, and if they got too close to the ship, the patrol fighters would attempt to intercept them. Just as she was wondering if their ship had the speed and shields to make it thorough the patrol in one piece, their comm. crackled to life.

“Attention, incoming ship, you have been granted permission to land. You are to use docking bay one on the starboard side. Once there, you are to await further instructions. Do you copy?”

Ansaria breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, we copy Throneship. Heading to docking bay one. Over and out.”

She allowed herself to rest against the wall as Tread brought the ship around. A trio of razor-winged Xenlongian fighters swooped by, flying a protective patrol around the massive ship. A large, blocky cargo ship flew under them, heading for a near-by docking bay. From this close, they could see repair crews doing touch up work on the outside of the huge vessel.

As they neared their destination, the massive door to the docking bay opened to allow them inside. The only other craft inside was a Harbinger-class troop transport, heavily armored and armed. As the craft set down, the hanger bay doors slowly sealed again. Ansaria decided to check on Slog. She headed to the back of the ship, where Slog had been taken to the room he’d had during their journey.

As Ansaria entered the room, the smell of blood nearly overwhelmed her. The bed sheets had been soaked with Slog’s purplish-gray blood. Alvara had bandaged her teammate up as best she could, but even with her skills and the med kit, it was clear things were not good. Slog’s bandage was already stained dark and it would likely need to be replaced soon. Slog himself lay unconscious on the bed, his skin slick with sweat. His breathing was slow and labored.

“How’s he doing?” she asked Alvara, who was wiping Slog’s forehead with a cool compress.

“I’ve bandaged him as best I could. The pain killers I game him knocked him out, but I’m worried the coagulate I gave him might be too much for his system. Without it, though, he’s libel to bleed out before help arrives.”

“Where’s his…arm?” asked Ansaria. Part of her wanted to laugh at how ridiculous the question sounded. She was sure that if Slog had been conscious, he would’ve laughed too.

Alvara silently pointed to a small case on the floor. Ansaria went over and opened the lid. Ice cold mist rolled out of it and beneath the freezing mist was the severed limb. Ansaria grimaced then put the case down.

She bent over Slog and said, softly, “I’m going to get you help, Slog,” With that, she exited the room.

Once she was outside Slog’s cabin, she contacted the same frequency that had let them know they could land.

“This is Sergeant Ansaria, we have safely landed and powered down our ship. What is our next course of action?”

The reply came quicker than Ansaria had expected. “Sergeant Ansaria, this is Commander Alked. You were told to await further instructions after you had landed; that is your course of action.”

“Commander, sir, I have a wounded soldier onboard that requires immediate medical attention. We’ve done all we can for him, but if we don’t get him to the medic, he could, sir.”

The other end remained quite for sol long, that Ansaria thought they had decided to ignore her. She was about to close the channel to come up with a new plan when the commander replied.

“I’m sending a security detachment to escort your wounded to the med wing, sergeant. You are to follow Captain Lumis’ orders to the letter, is that understood?”

“Understood, sir.”

“Good. Commander Alked, out.”

Ansaria went to tell Alvara and the others about her conversation. Just as she had everyone gathered outside Slog’s room, there was a pounding on the hull. Ansaria went to open the hatch. Standing outside, flanked by a dozen soldiers in standard Imperial combat armor was a bot almost as tall as she was with glowing blue eyes. For a moment, her mind flashed back to Eberius before she brought herself back into the here and now. She saluted.

“Captain Lumis, sir?”

The bot returned the salute. “At ease, sergeant,” its voice was much slower and more monotone than Tread’s “We are here to escort you to the medical wing. Where is the patient?”

Ansaria told him were to find Slog. Lumis gestured to two of his troops.

“You two, proceed with the grav-gurney.”

Two helmeted soldiers nodded then entered the ship, followed by a floating apparatus. Captain Lumis addressed Ansaria’s squad.

“I’ll need all of you to step out of the craft and line up for our trip to the doctor.”

Ansaria nodded and gestured for Tread to follow her. As they stood next to the ship, the soldier’s emerged, one in front of the antigravity gurney, one behind it, with Alvara brining up the rear with Slog’s arm box. Lumis held out his hand for the box.

“What are the contents of this container?”

“Slog’s…missing limb, sir,” said Alvara.

“I’ll take that, private. Fall in with the rest of your squad.”

After Alvara handed over the box and took her position between Ansaria and Tread, the soldiers accompanying then snapped into position all around them, hemming them in, while Lumis and the soldier’s with the grav-gurney leading the way.

“We are heading to the medical wing. Do not deviate from the course. All troops, forward march.”

With that, the group proceeded through the hanger into a long hallway. At the end of the hall was a lift that would take its passenger’s anywhere on the ship. They steeped on in groups; Lumis, the gurney and the soldiers with it went on the first lift, while Ansaria was taken in the next with a quartet of soldiers. As the doors closed with only the smallest ‘hiss’, the lift took off. Ansaria noticed she was the tallest person present, with all the guards with her at least a full head shorter than her. If she wasn’t so exhausted and sick, she probably would’ve laughed about it.

As the lift reached the floor leading to the medical wing, Ansaria stepped out along with her guards. The ride had taken only a few moments, and Captain Lumis and Slog were only a little ways ahead of them. She looked back as she heard another lift arriving and saw Alvara slithering out with her troop detachment, Critter riding on her shoulder. Alvara saw her looking and gave her a comforting smile.

By the time Slog had reached the reception area for this part of the medical wing, Tread and his escort had arrived. With the group reunited, they were led after Slog. When they finally caught up, Slog was being led away by the medical staff.

“Will he be alright?” she called after one of the retreating medics. The humanoid figure, who was already covered head to foot in medical gear, turned back to her. “We’ll do our best,” was all he said, before the doors to the sterile environment closed.

“Feel free to have a seat,” said Lumis, gesturing to a row of chairs against the wall. “I must inform the commander that we have arrived.”

Administrator Delta was examining the timetable for troop arrivals aboard the flagship when he was contacted personally. He stopped his important work to answer the call.

“Commander Alked. Report.”

“Administrator, the incoming ship has safely docked and the occupants have been escorted to the medical wing.”

“Commander, you received specific instructions to keep them on their ship until further notice. Did you receive new orders from a superior?”

“No, sir. The sergeant informed me they had wounded on board, so I took it upon myself to provide them with an armed escort to the med bay. I take full responsibility for the action, sir.”

“I see. Your compassion to your fellow soldiers is commendable, commander. Very well, they are to remain in the medical wing until you receive further orders. Am I understood, commander?”

“Understood, sir.”

“Good, Administrator Delta, out.”

Ansaria allowed the medics to look over her own wound while they waited for news on Slog. The medic tending her clucked her tongue at the shoddy bandage work, before skillfully cleaning and wrapping the cut before giving Ansaria and injection to help with pain and infection. Ansaria tried not to let the pleasant haze distract her too much before a small assistant bot came out of the sterile room. It hovered before Ansaria.

“You are the patient’s CO?” asked the bot in a friendly, artificial voice.

Ansaria nodded. She couldn’t help thinking that if they sent such a friendly sounding machine out to tell them bad news, it was rather poor form.

“Your subordinate has been stabilized. The doctors are discussing what course of action to take next regarding the severed limb, but the important thing is, he will survive.”

Ansaria collapsed back against her chair. Relief flooded through her faster than even the drugs had. Alvara cuddled Critter while Tread closed his eyes and smiled at the news.

With the immediate worry solved, Ansaria’s mind snapped back to the larger mission. She stood up, a little less gracefully than she’d intended, but chocked that up to the medication.

“Captain, sir, now that my soldier has been attended to, I must speak with the Emperor. I have information vital to the survival of the Empire that I must deliver to him.”

Lumis held up one hand to stop Ansaria.

“I’m sorry, sergeant, but my orders are to keep you here for the time being. I have assurances from the higher-ups that someone will be along to speak with you eventually, but for now, you and your squad are to remain here.”

“Captain, please, this information must get to Emperor Xandarius. My squad and I have been through the underworld and back to deliver this information. What possible reason could they have for keeping us here?”

“The ship is undergoing a wide variety of repairs and delivery. This ship must be in top form when the fleet arrives to accompany us to the front. I’m sure you are just one of many concerns to the top brass at the moment. I understand your frustration, sergeant, but my orders stand. You and your squad will remain here until further notice.”

Ansaria couldn’t believe it. After everything they’d been through, and now here they were, on the Emperor’s proverbial doorstep, and they were being told to take a number?

Ansaria’s hands began to shake. Even through the pleasant haze of drugs, she could feel the anger rising inside her. She sat back down, then turned to her squad members.

“Do you trust me?” was all she asked. The three of them nodded. Ansaria held Tread’s gaze before nodding at Lumis. Tread nodded himself, before reaching back to swap out his main weapon. When he was ready, Ansaria stood up again.

“Sergeant Ansaria, please, for your own sake, sit down. I’ve already told you--” began Lumis.

“Now!” shouted Ansaria. Tread took aim and fired his ion canon at the mechanical captain. The shot struck Lumis clean in the face, temporarily powering him down. As soon as Tread had fired, Ansaria lashed out with her mind. The guards accompanying them were pushed back and pinned to the wall, all of them struggling to get free or bring their weapons to bear.

Ansaria kept them pinned as she led Alvara, Tread and Critter to the lifts. As their transport arrived and she stepped into it, she said quietly:

“We’ll be back, Slog.”

Commander Alked got a ping on his TIG. He looked down, expecting a status report from Lumis, only to see the message was from Sergeant Nestus, who had accompanied him with the new arrivals.

“This is the commander, go ahead, sergeant.”

“Commander, those troops we took to the medical wing turned on us, sir! They hit the captain with an ion blast and he hasn’t come back on-line yet. The Xenlongian used her TK on us, pinned us to the wall while she and the rest of her squad escaped into a lift! What do we do sir!?”

The commander appraised the situation. He knew that if these guests turned out to be terrorists or criminals or enemy combatants, he could be facing court-martial, if not execution for gross incompetence. He had to do what ever he could to mitigate this.

“You and your troops are to hold your position, sergeant. I’ll contact the Administrator and have him put the whole vessel on lock down!”

A few moments latter, Administrator Delta, who was inspecting a delivery schedule report, was contacted once again by Commander Alked.

“Yes, commander, what is it this time?”

“Sir, the individuals you allowed on the ship have escaped the medical wing. They incapacitated the guards I sent with them, and have entered the lifts. They said they had something important to deliver to the Emperor. I recommend we put the vessel on lockdown until they are caught.”

Delta allowed a few seconds to pass before replying, even though he already knew what he was going to say.

“Thank you for alerting me, commander. I shall take it from here. Administrator Delta ou--”

“Sir, what about the Emperor? Should he be evacuated from the ship?”

“I shall handle the Emperor, commander, and the intruders as well. Administrator Delta out.”

Ansaria nearly lost her balance as the lift they were in came to a sudden stop.

“What happened?” asked Ansaria.

Tread used his TIG to query the lift’s orders. “They’ve ordered a lockdown of the lifts,” he said. “Most likely, their next step will be redirecting our lift to another floor for arrest.”

Ansaria was not going to let a stopped elevator keep her from her goal.

“How far are we from the bridge?”

Tread perused the ship’s layout. “A little over halfway.”

“Any lifts ahead of us on the same line?”

Tread gave her a questioning look. “Unknown. Why?”

“Because, I’m going to get us there myself,” said Ansaria, as she began gathering her strength. “When I tell you, fire your ion cannon into the lift controls.”

Tread and Alvara exchanged looks. “Sergeant, what are you planning?”

“We’ve made it this far, Tread, just trust me.”

Tread stared at Ansaria for a moment before putting as much space as he could between himself and his target. He took careful aim at the controls, and then nodded at Ansaria.

Ansaria took a deep breath. She was reasonably sure she could do what she was planning; it was just all the stuff that could go wrong that was filling her with dread and doubt. She took another steadying breath, gathered all her focus, then said:

“Do it.”

Tread fired his ion cannon at the controls. The bright flash of light momentarily blinded everyone, while the smell of ozone filled the confined space. The interior went dark, but what drew everyone’s attention, was the sound of the magnetic breaks unlocking.

For a split second, there was indescribable feeling of falling; with everyone who had a stomach having there’s suddenly leaped into their throats. Rather than continuing, the drop ended suddenly, jostling everyone in the lift, but leaving them intact. Alvara and Tread looked around in confusion. It was only when they saw the look on

Ansaria’s face that they realized that she was supporting them all with her telekinesis.

“Next stop,” said Ansaria, her voice slightly strained and her eye’s tightly closed. “Emperor Xandarius.”

With that, the lift began to rise once again, moving at a swift pace, though not as fast as the lift usually traveled.

“I’m going to need one of you to guide me,” said Ansaria. “I’d hate to ram us into a wall or a bend.”

Tread pulled up the lift layout once again and began reading out the route to Ansaria.

“We’re gonna need eyes topside, to make sure we don’t smack into anyone else,” said Alvara. “Critter, feel like playing look out?”

The diminutive teammate saluted, before Alvara extended herself to the top of the lift. There was an emergency escape hatch on the top that had opened when Tread had fried the controls. Alvara opened the hatch and gently set Critter outside before lowering herself.

“How’s the view, Critter?” she asked through her comm.

Critter replied, a little drowned out by the rushing air of the speeding lift.

“He says he can see fine, and we’re clear on our track for now.”

Ansaria nodded, her eyes still tightly shut, her face beginning to perspire. She was acutely aware of the pain in her shoulder and the headache was starting to get, but still she pressed on.

Just a little further, just a little further.

They had made it three-quarters of the way when Critter announced a lift heading their way. Ansaria slowed their lift to a stop so Tread could find a way around.

“We need to descend three floors, and then take the port access way to another lift line.”

Ansaria began lowering the lift down to their new route.

“Critter says that lift is coming awfully fast,” said Alvara.

Ansaria could only grunt in reply. They reached the floor, and Ansaria began shifting to the new line, but her first attempt caused the bottom of their lift to catch, tipping everyone over and knocking them against the wall.

Critter was now vocalizing his extreme worry. The lift was speeding toward them, and Ansaria was struggling to get them up and running again.

“Sarge!” said Alvara, panic in her voice.

Ansaria used all her might to get the lift back up and into the access way. Just as they entered it, they could all hear the whoosh of air as the lift speed by, none of the occupants aware of how close they’d come to hitting another occupied car.

Now that they were out of the way, Ansaria took a moment to compose herself before switching the lift to the next track. When they’d finally reached it, she took off vertically, moving them slower than she had been before.

“Almost there, Sarge,” said Tread, looking back and forth between the readout and his CO.

A few moments latter, Critter announced that he could see the end of the line. Alvara reached up to bring him back inside while Ansaria eased them into their destination. Before them, the only thing separating them from there goal was double set of closed doors. Tread and Alvara pried the doors in the lift apart easily enough, but for the next ones, Tread was going to need to hit them with another ion blast.

“As soon as were in, keep your hands where they can see them,” said Ansaria. “Nobody’s getting shot now.”

Her squad nodded. Tread took aim and fired at the doors, short-circuiting them and once more filling the car with the smell of ozone. Tread and Alvara pried the doors apart, then slowly stepped onto the bridge, their hands raised. Ansaria opened her eyes and wearily raised her own hands before stepping off the lift.

The image before her was almost exactly like what she had seen of the bridge before. The Emperor had released announcements in person from the bridge of the Throneship, so its layout and look was known to those in the Empire who were fascinated by such things, but to actually be standing here was something else entirely. The only thing that dwarfed it was the sight of the Emperor, staring directly at her.

His huge, metallic plated body gleamed in the strong light of the bridge. His violet eyes bored into hers, filled with the strength and power of one who looked upon distant stars as vassals to conquer. He looked at her with a calmness of someone who had faced death time and time again, and who had beaten it at every turn.

For a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, Ansaria was unable to look away from those intense indigo eyes. It was only when a twinge of pain from her wound reminded her of the reality of the situation that she was able to break the spell and finally approach the Emperor.

Ansaria slowly began walking toward the throne where her leader sat. All around her, every other body was frozen. Their unexpected appearance seemed to have caught the bridge crew off guard, while Ansaria’s troops seemed to know that this was something she had to do herself. When she was what she felt was a reasonable distance from the throne, she bent to one knee.

She tried to speak, but found her mouth and throat dry. Whether it was from her nerves or the exertion she had just been through, she couldn’t say, but she swallowed and tried again.

“Your Majesty,” she began. “My name is Sergeant Ansaria Dormus. My squad and I have traveled across the Empire on the behalf of Imperial Security Agent Jandor Rall. We have brought you information relating to the safety and security of the Empire.”

Xandarius regarded her with his intense eyes. “And why did not Agent Rall bring this information to me himself?”

Ansaria swallowed again before answering. “He tried to, sire, but he was attacked and killed by an android, dispatched by the very conspirators attempting to bring down the Empire.”

“You have the information with you?” asked the Emperor.

Ansaria nodded, and slowly reached for the data drive on her belt. She took it out then held it up on the flat of her hand.

A floating bot that Ansaria had not noticed before suddenly appeared next to the Emperor.

“Sire, permit me to take and analyze the infor--” he began, before Xandarius held up a hand to silence him. The data drive suddenly lifted out of Ansaria’s hand and floated into Xandarius’ who examined the small drive.

“I shall look into this personally. In the meantime, sergeant, you and your squad shall--” At that moment, several things happened.

A green Prizmid that Ansaria had also failed to notice began screaming and spasming, at least as much as it was possible for a solid shape to spasm. His telepathic speech filled the minds of everyone on the bridge with the screech of insane shrieking.

“PRESERVE THE SILANCE! ENSURE THE ARRIVAL! ELIMINATE THE TARGET! PRESERVE THE SILANCE! ENSURE THE ARRIVAL! ELIMINATE THE TARGET! PRESERVE…”

The next thing to happen was an alert from the console. A large, reddish-brown insect, clutching his head with his sharp, pointy pincers, noticed the alert.

“Ssssire!” he rasped. “The Z-engine hassss been activated!”

His announcement was followed by incoming inquires from the engineering, asking for conformation of the order to jump. Similar questions began pouring in from the patrol fleet and Epsilon command.

An instant later, the ship suddenly lurched forward, as the diamond-speckled expanse of real space was replaced by the purplish black void of zero space.

“Officer Diamond,” said Xandarius, the pained look on his face the only sign of his discomfort. “I order you to stand down and return us to Epsilon, this instant!”

“Oh, I’m afraid you won’t be able to get through to him,” said the bot, which was ignoring everything going on around him and staring out into Z-space. “The corruption has taken hold, albeit less successfully than usual.”

“ELIMINATE THE SILANCE! PRESERVE THE ARRIVAL! ENSURE THE TARGET!” babbled Diamond, now spinning and colliding into everything around the bridge.

“Explain yourself, Delta.” Said the Emperor, his voice taking on a dangerous growl as he stared at his Administrator.

“It will all be over soon, sire,” he said, his voice never wavering from its calm tone. “Admittedly, its happening sooner than expected, but contingency’s were in place for events such as this.” He turned from the window towards Ansaria. “You should be proud, sergeant. You managed to thwart a power grater than you could possibly imagine, but in the end, your efforts were all for not.” He turned back to the window. “The arrival must be assured.”

Xandarius stood up from his throne. He raised one hand towards the bot, which began to glow with energy. “Delta, you will tell me what you are doing, or I will deactivate you and pull the information from your databanks myself.”

“No need, sire,” he said. “We have arrived.” As he spoke, the ship suddenly returned to real space. They hung in empty space, not a star or planet or rock in sight. Delta turned towards Xandarius and slowly began to float towards him.

“The silence must be preserved,” he recited, all emotion leaving his artificial voice. “The arrival must be ensured. The targets will be eliminated.”

As he spoke the last word, a bolt of energy suddenly struck the machine. Its lights and sensors suddenly shut down and it dropped to the deck like a rock, landing with a loud clatter. A similar bolt of energy lanced out and struck Diamond, who toppled over and became still, his telepathic shouting finally ending.

At first, Ansaria thought the Emperor had fired at his compromised troops, but she saw that Xandarius was looking around for the source of the blasts as well. She turned and saw Tread, his ion cannon still leveled at Diamond, a determined look on his face. Xandarius noticed him as well.

“You have my thanks, soldier,” he said, lowering his hand, the glow vanishing. “But I was prepared to handle it.”

“Forgive my impetuousness, sire,” said Tread, bowing toward the Emperor. “But I believed my ion blast would disable the targets while allowing them to be examined later without permanently injuring them.”

“Indeed,” was all the Emperor said. “Now then, Ranyor, status report.”

A large, four armed reptile, who until now had been staring at Diamond on the floor, snapped to attention and turned to the controls. He tapped at the console, first normally, than more forcefully. He snarled and turned back to his emperor.

“Sire, the controls have been locked. Until we get them unlocked, we have no way of knowing where we are or of getting back.”

“I want everyone working to get the ship back to Epsilon,” said Xandarius, sitting down on his throne once more. “In the meantime, have someone collect Diamond and…the former Administrator so we can get to the bottom of this. Sergeant, you and your men shall come with me. I want to know everything you--”

Xandarius was interrupted by an alarm. A Mandorian with a heavy amount of cybernetics examined his console.

“Sire!” he said. “Enemy contact detected, dead ahead!”

Outside, in the black of space, a burst of golden light filled the viewscreen. As it faded, a ship began slowly advancing on the stranded Imperial vessel.

“The Imperium,” said Xandarius in a quite voice, his eyes locked on small, but rapidly enlarging ship. As it got closer, Ansaria could see that it was roughly pill shaped, with two cones on the top and bottom, leaving the middle exposed. The cones were ribbed, with holes showing through to the craft beneath. As it approached, it began to turn so it was lying horizontal.

Another beeping noise sounded on the bridge, coming from Diamond’s station. Tread went over to see what it was.

“Incoming transmission, sire,” he said. “It appears we can receive messages, but not send them at the moment.”

An instant after he spoke, a voice filled the bridge. To Ansaria, it sounded like she had always imagined a demon to sound: loud, deranged, and with a slight echo that seemed to her like a crowd of people where repeating everything the voice said.

“At long last,” it hissed. “The time has come for me to incinerate the pretender wrym. It’s a shame you didn’t bring more of your slaves to witness your ultimate destruction!”

The communication ended. Another alarm began sounding. At the same time, everyone could see the tip of the cone facing them beginning to glow with golden energy.

“Sire!” said the Mandorian, panic in his voice. “They’re preparing to fire!”

To Be Continued