Patterns of Chaos: Book One - The First War

Following the Site A debacle, Alliance troops were cautious to approach the smoldering ruins. Smoldering, for before his final departure from the surface Stragdoc had ordered his remaining ships to level the facility. In the end, little information was gleaned from the destroyed facility beyond the corpse of John Parsyns, burned to a crisp now on top of his many, many fractures.

There were few survivors of Stragdoc and Morsalis’ combined rampage. Chief among them was the pilot of the jet Calixta had brought down; he had been able to eject before the plane could crash, although he had sustained a compound leg fracture.

Ironically, his name was Christopher St. George: the son of the man Paul Stragdoc had brutally murdered in London. He had enlisted in the Alliance military once he had reached the requisite age, moving quickly through the ranks in his desire to avenge his father’s murder.

Elsewhere, Jennifer Safyo wept and cursed herself. She had not anticipated the fast action of the Alliance military; her desire had merely been to panic Stragdoc and his sycophants. Instead, good men and women had died because of her actions.

Again.

After all, would the deaths at the Embassy have occurred if she hadn’t blown up that shuttle and tried to alert the world to the threat in their midst? Or the soldiers in Toronto? Had she not broken into the vault, they would be alive.

Crichton had called her a dream. No, she was a nightmare. She was cursed to have death follow her actions. Her own road to hell, paved in her good intentions. Perhaps this was her punishment for letting him live all those years ago. Sure, she had left him for dead; she could not have known he would survive the explosion…

Crichton’s words came back to haunt her. Okay. Jennifer took a deep breath. She had been acting on impulse this whole time. It was time to plan her moves, ensuring that no more collateral damage occurred. And she had an idea of at least a partial atonement for the debacle in Antarctica.

The Chancel positively thrummed with activity as Stragdoc and Calixta returned. As they and Dalth disembarked from their shuttle, the Site A workers began cheering wildly. As far as they were concerned, Paul Stragdoc had descended from the heavens to save all of them.

“W-where is Parsyns?” One technician called out.

“Dead.” The voice was Calixta’s. “He died defending my husband and myself from the humans.”

Stragdoc fought hard to suppress a grin. The lie had been her idea, suggested to him mentally en route back to the vessel. In life, John Parsyns had been a weak little milksop of a man, his sole brave act being his Faster-than-Light journey.

In death, he could be a legend. Statues built in his honor, songs sung of his bravery. Parsyns death, holding off Alliance forces while the beloved Emperor and Empress escaped was the best kind of propaganda: the kind that made martyrs.

Stragdoc held up his hand to address the horrified crowd. It was time to play his own part. “John Parsyns died a hero twice over. He will be remembered as a true noble Alphite son who not only made the first step into the larger universe for all of us, but also saved both myself and, more importantly, my beloved wife. His last words may have come from a place of pain as our enemies slaughtered him, but his shout of ‘long live the Empire’ will echo in my heart until I draw my last breath.”

Tears welled in the eyes of all the escapees. Before the shuttle had docked back inside the Chancel, Stragdoc had radioed for beverages to be readied for his return. He now gestured for a glass and raised it above his head. “To John Parsyns, hero of the Empire!” He toasted, swallowing the drink in one gulp.

The escapees toasted his memory, and went to set their new quarters. Stragdoc and Calixta made their way back to their own quarters, communing mentally.

-Well, that went quite well.

-Yes, my dear. A stroke of genius on your part, really.

-Only because of my teacher.

Calixta smiled mischievously up at him. Outside their quarters, they found Karman waiting for them. He had supervised the initial evacuation, only leaving the Empress when told that Stragdoc himself was ensuring her safe extraction.

“Sir, I apologize for not catching the attempt on your wife. I offer my life in forfeit…”

Stragdoc waved the rest away. “You couldn’t have known that woman would be there. You’re forgiven.”

Calixta actually hugged the man. “Your concern is touching, Commander. Thank you.”

Karman nodded stoically. “Thank you both. My new orders?”

Stragdoc smiled. “Relax. This is the final calm before the storm, Victor. Whether the humans realize it or not, they have officially declared war. It’s time to answer their challenge.”