Ghosts of Lyarra (35 page)

“I do.” She whispered. “So what do we do
now?”

“We take back your throne.” Aen replied with
conviction.

—

Kala’s eyes opened, and she faced another morning that didn’t begin with her being led off to her death. She let out a breath held; once more there was no one waiting at her cell door. But with the relief, came the frustration that the wait for something would continue. It had been two months by her count, since the priestess had been taken from her cell; two months of isolation and
loneliness.

She had felt the ship drop out of and resume its travels in jump-space each time; by her count the next time they emerged they would be within the borders of Lyarra’s light and within the heart of the great Empire itself. She was trapped aboard a rogue ship, and her inability to warn her brethren ate away at her as much as her betrayal of those she had befriended over the years did. At some point, she would be freed or forced to pay for her actions, but either way Kala felt she would never be the
same.

Rising from her cot, she stretched her muscles as the possibility of atrophy worried her more and more. Kala could do some small workouts to stay fit, but lacked the water needed to replenish the lost energy from the exertion. What meager rations she got were meant to only keep her alive; her oppressors cared not if she stayed healthy at all. Holding herself against the wall, she knocked her head lightly on it in
frustration.

“Horrible being made to wait like this.” A voice behind her
whispered.

She spun around and nearly jumped back into the plasma field holding her captive in shock. Somehow, someone had snuck into her cage and stayed quiet enough to fool her very tuned senses. Worse yet, that someone was the armor clad Ifierin who had been tormenting her
masters.

“I have come to offer you hope.” He growled through his helmet. “Choose your next few words carefully, for if you speak foolishly they will be your
last.”

“So they have thrown their lot in with a murderer and bringer of chaos?” she sneered back. “Desperate and pathetic attempt to save a dying
ideal.”

“Careful traitor.” He warned her. “I can inflict horrors upon you worse than any you can
imagine.”

“The man who killed the Empress in front of the whole galaxy is calling me a traitor?” Kala stood up tall and smoothed out her uniform to feign importance. “I am the proper commander of this vessel; the new Council, to take the Dark Light into a new age. I am an important part of the next chapter in the life of the Empire and you are nothing but an afterthought.” She pointed at him with an accusatory
finger.

Aen caught her hand and kept it outstretched in a field of localized gravity, then concentrated to isolate the pointed finger. He ignored her grunts and swears as he triggered a reaction in her finger at the cellular level. Kala howled in pain with her finger glowing red hot before igniting in flames. She tried collapsing to the floor, but merely hung by her hand hooked by an unseen force. Moments later the remnants of her forefinger fell to the floor in ash; the wound cauterized by the very act that destroyed the digit before her hand was mysteriously released. Kala fell to the ground and clutched her disfigured hand; rolling around in
agony.

“You were warned about choosing your words wisely.” Aen spoke down to her. “Your perceived power and sense of entitlement is what led you to this place, and put you at my mercy. You will not perish from your injury, but it will serve as a reminder for our next visit to be mindful of your
place.”

Kala’s eyes were shut tight as she cried out in agony. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt pain so intense, and for the first time in her incarceration began to doubt the cause she sided with. From where she lay on the floor, it seemed to be on the wrong end of a great power even her masters hadn’t accounted for. Opening one eye, she looked about the room to find her tormentor only to discover that once again she was alone. And as the pain overwhelmed her system and she lost consciousness, Kala wondered if this was her punishment for failing; after all, her master was vengeful beyond
comprehension.

—
Havyiin, Imperial Palace

Preparations for the inauguration were going smooth, and despite a few delays in decoration arrangements and last second guest notices, Myril couldn’t have planned it better. Every ship in the Fleet had been accounted for now - even the long silent Dark Light had reported in and was returning from Terra Sol for the festivities - they even had the human Council on board to witness the dawn of a new rule. Even more shocking was the confirmation of the J’Karin delegation’s inclusion - even though the mammoth Bryx was listed amongst the guests - so the entire Empire would be there for her crowning
moment.

She was a bit concerned over the silence aboard the Dark Light regarding the matter of who was in charge; the confirmation did come encoded with Lyxia’s signatures. Maybe the take-over hadn’t proceeded as of yet because of whatever delays that kept her out of reach for so long, but Myril knew that the Dark Light had to be turned first before the others could be taken over. It was the lynch pin of the whole plan; to hold the flagship in her hands would help transition the other ships that much more smoothly. But if Lyxia was in attendance, the young whelp could be dealt with by her Forgotten before ever returning to her ship; a much more favorable and controllable outcome in her
opinion.

So she signalled for all the other operatives in the Fleet to hold station; it was not time to act yet. Everything would key on the crowning ceremony. Once she was in power officially, her orders became law and she would make sweeping changes to a regime that failed to find the murderer at large. It would appease the masses and the moves would seem justified. It involved less blood spilled and more public opinion in her favor; yes. This way made for a much better plan than hostile take
overs!

But there was one more loose end, and possibly the most frightening thing unaccounted for at this point. Her tormentor was still out there, and was threatening to be there on her day of celebration. An entire Fleet had been unable to find him; the entire Empire had been torn apart looking for clues that simply weren’t there. It was like searching for a ghost; one second it was there and next it was gone. Each day the coronation grew closer, his messages to her, haunted her more and more. If he was going to try and crash the party, she would unleash hell of her own on him; this she
vowed.

After his last message, Myril had recalled all the Forgotten spread out through the Empire, to return home and protect the new Empress. She would show them all what personal security truly was. Iana always drug around her pet dog everywhere she went, but Myril had the allegiance of the most ruthless killing machines ever created; and had little compunction to let them do their thing if needed. So let this monster come for her and so what if he bested a few elder assassins in the Temple. He would never survive coming close enough to see her face, for in a few days she would have thousands of the Forgotten at her beck and
call.

Myril let out a triumphant sigh and admired herself for thinking so well on the fly. Her mental checklist was nearly complete and the throne she coveted for so long was finally close to being hers. She had already moved into the Palace on Havyiin; well, the guest house for the time being until the funeral celebrations had been completed. Then the palace would be made ready for her, and the last traces of Iana would be swept away. Only in the files of history would she be now; what was once the hardest part of the plan had been done for her, for this she was
pleased.

There was little more than a month to go before thousands upon thousands of years of planning came to fruition. Myril knew a few worlds may not agree with the new direction the Empire would take, but also knew that standing before the Guild meant annihilation and extinction. Worlds that opposed the new way would simply disappear into the
darkness.

So with the planning nearly complete and no more posturing for political favor, Myril decided to stroll about the grounds that would soon be hers to call home. It would be a change from her humble lodgings in the Temple on Ryas, but she was sure she would manage to adjust. As she ambled through the luscious gardens, she began to imagine presiding over a Council of followers that were compliant and subservient; not the free thinking mess that it had become. All the years of playing their game had come to an end; soon it was her turn to rule. Soon it would be the age of Myril, and the ultimate wrong will have finally been
righted.

—
Lyarran Vessel Dark Light;
Unmapped Space Outside the Lyarran System

“Tight fit.” Bryx’s voice boomed in the cavernous shuttle bay as he commented on the clearance; or lack thereof; with the dreadnaught hiding within the bowels of the Dark
Light.

“Well, neither your ships nor the Fleet specifications were ever designed for this.” Lyxia shot
back.

Normally she would be more intimidated by his presence. After all, the ten foot tall monolith was imposing just by being near, never mind the threat of his legendary fighting prowess. But in recent days, she got to bear witness to the power held within Aen and the horrific results he left behind as he disposed of the prisoners in less than an afterthought. Next to Aen, Bryx was little more than a club compared to a plasma rifle; the sheer destructive potential was epically
different.

“You have changed, child.” Bryx observed. “You have aged much since we last
met.”

“For the better I hope?” she asked as she turned to lead him to the lifts; they had an interrogation to do and Aen had softened her up
already.

“You are much stronger; your experiences have hardened you.” He began as they entered the lift and the doors closed. “But at the same time, he has opened your heart and weakened you in a way that only a true killer could see. Love is a great and powerful thing, but it allows those who wish evil upon you, a way to break
you.”

He was right, despite the fact that it aggravated her to no end. She had changed since this all had started, and though she felt different her feelings for Aen left her feeling vulnerable and exposed. Lyxia stood proud with tradition and honor, and this new weakness made her feel disconnected with the person she had built herself up to be her whole
life.

“You talk like you know what is yet to come.” She shot out at him; curious to see what she could draw from such a closed off being. “They speak of a dark force looming on the horizon; yet I have not heard mention yet of the Husk in all
this.”

“There are far darker things lurking in the shadows.” He scowled down at her. “The Husk are the evil we know, but beyond them there are things that the mightiest of the J’Karin will cower in terror from; things that draw closer as we are at our weakest. None of us have known the true darkness yet to befall us, but I am pleased that we have Iana to lead like a lantern in the
night.”

“And what of Aen?” she asked. “Do you not believe in him
too?”

The lift opened and revealed the city within the behemoth ship; the mixing pot of the everyday people and needs that made years alone in space bearable in such long range craft. Immediately, they were greeted by the smell of fresh produce and pastries along with spices and fragrances from around the Empire. In a sense, it was like being at the center of Pax with the hustle and bustle of the oldest cities in the Empire pulling them in. Bryx took a step out of the lift and looked back at
her.

“He has done much to show his power.” He began. “But times like those we have yet to face, will test the heart of a true warrior. It is what endears your people to me; it’s what drives mine and is the last looming question to which I have of him. I have seen those with immense power seem just and true, but become corrupt from that they wield and falter. I have been at the mercy of those leaders, and only by the mercy of the Empress was I freed from such a nightmare. It is on this dangerous precipice I see him on, and my allegiance will follow, depending on which way he
chooses.”

“I know his heart already.” She chided him. “Your opinion is
misguided.”

“Tell me what you think of that when all this is over, child.” Bryx growled back; leading her on to the barracks. “Long life has granted me much insight on these matters, I only hope I am wrong this time. I hope I am wrong about
everything.”

—

She had been drug from her cell in the deep dark of night and hours later Kala was huddled in confusion and fear in the corner of this new room. Her once clean and beautiful uniform was now filthy and tattered; her reflection in the mirrored walls showed a ragged and beleaguered figure staring back at her. The image was frightening and she quickly turned her head away to examine the new room. It was dimly lit and empty, but smelled of Ifierin filth. Her senses told her she was somewhere in the barracks region of the ship. Time had slipped by without comprehension since her painful meeting with the unknown menace and her soul shuddered at the thought of facing him again. Kala’s eyes cracked open to peer down at her disfigured hand; the reminder of how powerful and painful that encounter had
been.