The Chronicles of Heaven's War: Burning Phoenix (2 page)

A barely noticeable shudder ran along the
companionway of the DishonPele. The pulsing vibrations of the
ship’s two massive engines slowed and then picked up again. Mihai
stopped, listening.

“We must be nearing the Milentian Nebula and
correcting course to line up on the Lenexion star systems.” The
woman muttered, sadly remembering thousands of broken hulks from
the Day of Tears still haunting that region. She attempted to push
away sordid visions of fire and death, of invasion plans gone awry,
mistakes made, foolish blunders. Twenty thousand souls slaughtered
in one hour…
one hour
, because she misdirected a
communiqué.

Mihai swore, disgruntled,
“Fuck it!”
and
stormed off.

The woman swore a lot more these days, didn’t like
it, but did it anyway. Took the pressure off, she guessed. Didn’t
drink though, well, like the others did to forget, or just not feel
maybe. She felt, all too painfully felt. Swearing made her feel
more like she was in control, in charge and less the victim. It was
better than drinking to forget the memories always lurking in the
shadows of her mind. Swearing put them in perspective, and she in
control.

Stepping from the companionway through a narrow
door, Mihai took the boson’s stairs that spiraled downward into the
bowels of the ship, exiting two levels below onto the colonnade
deck. The colonnade ran two-thirds the length of the DishonPele,
was two full spans of a man’s outstretched arms wide, and the
ceiling as high as a man’s reach. Well lit, with six movable double
bulkheads sunken into the walls, a person got the feeling of
expanse when standing in this long, wide corridor, unlike
claustrophobic intrusions forced upon their senses elsewhere in the
confines of this frigate-o-war.

(Author’s note:
The DishonPele, formerly known as
the ‘Omri’ before the end of the Great War, was built during a
temporary interlude of peace some time before that war began. It
was an evolutionary machine, caught somewhere between the demise of
the dreadnaught and the birth of the modern ship-o-war, being
somewhat a misfit child of both concepts. So it was that many
spaces aboard the ship were narrow and cramped, while a portion was
built to create the feeling of terrestrial living, thus the
colonnade deck with its intruding half-columns along the colonnade
and many double door galleries off it. It was believed this
approach to internal ship architecture might well ease the cabin
fever often experienced during deep space travel.

This idea did not prove itself but, by its very
nature of design, weakened the integrity of the ship when
confronted with the ravages of battle. By the time of this Prisoner
Exchange, the DishonPele had received many a rebuild, the only
thing remaining of the original colonnade deck being the long, open
passage of the colonnade, minus the contrived pillars. The
expansive galleries were cut down in size to make room for
additional storage and a new, reinforced double hull, leaving
smaller, single door wardrooms exiting onto the slightly altered
colonnade.
Still, the colonnade was the fastest and most
efficient way to gain access to other parts of the ship.
Even with refits, the DishonPele was relegated primarily to
backwater and livery duties during the Great War, Command believing
it unfit for frontline service.
)

Mihai liked DishonPele, meaning ‘Mother’s little
love’, a name she had requested it be given when she booked its
passage to EremiaPikros for the signing of the armistice at the end
of the Great War, which was also its current destination, for the
Prisoner Exchange. The ship suited her needs well for such
journeys, plenty of conference rooms, private nooks, several rooms
for conversion to sleeping cabins, and lots of places to hide when
the
child within
wished to be alone.

Quiet late night sounds of a sleeping ship echoed in
Mihai’s ears. The
‘click, click, click’
of the duty
officer’s hard-soled boots as they paced the deck, reverberated
along the passageway, keeping mystical tempo with the hum and whirr
of distant motors and servos. Combining with these sounds was the
steady pulsing of the ship’s mighty engines, singing out in all
their majestic power - a pleasant symphony of reassurance that all
was well. Sensing the melody, Mihai stepped up the pace until the
heels of her own boots clicked in happy harmony with the music of
the ship.

As she passed a small officers’ canteen, its warm,
beckoning, golden lights standing out in sharp contrast to the many
closed doors or cold darkened rooms along the colonnade, Mihai
chanced a glance inside. Instantly she stopped, spying a
lonely-appearing Zadar sitting silently at one of the eatery’s
little tables.

“Hello!” Mihai offered, a hint of surprise in her
voice. She leaned forward, grasping the side of the doorway. “What
are you doing up at this late hour? Have you lost your comforter so
quickly?”

Zadar snapped to, as if being waked from a dream. He
had not heard Mihai’s questions, but did return a toothy smile
while motioning toward a nearby chair. “Oh… Mihai. It’s always so
good to see you, and I must say you look enchanting tonight.
Where’s your fellow, and shouldn’t he be concerned you might find
another suitor should he allow you to wander these halls
alone?”

Mihai replied that Paul had little to fear, and
shared the reason for her journey into the heart of the sleeping
ship. “I so wanted to send this letter by postal today. When I
discovered the early hour of the packet’s arrival, I forced the
moment and abandoned my fellow to the loneliness of a quiet room,
to first write this love letter and then deliver it to the post. I
did, then, promise to make a return and give him a worthy reward
for his longsuffering patience.”

Still extending a hand, encouraging Mihai to sit
awhile, Zadar asked, “I know the hour is late, but the packet will
not arrive until the morning watch. And I also do believe that your
fellow will continue to persevere should you fail to deliver
yourself until the dawning light. Will you please take your leave
to sit with me for but a few moments? I have need of my sister’s
council, for I am at a total loss.”

Mihai would have laughed, Zadar usually being such a
tease, but she saw in his eyes that the man was deeply troubled.
Stepping into the room and sliding into the chair across the tiny
table, she cooed, “Always for you, dear one, little brother.” She
then asked if something was amiss.

“I thought…” Zadar frowned staring down at his cup,
finally picking it up and aimlessly swirling the remaining contents
round and round. “I mean… well…” He set the cup back down and took
Mihai’s hand, his troubled eyes searching hers. “I love you… At
least I think I love you. I hurt over you, fear for you, even pine
at times for you. You’re special to me, but so is Darla and…and so
many, many, of my sisters. I ache over the loss of Sirion, wishing
that she is soon returned to us alive and well.”

Quiet frustration grew in his voice. “I thought I
was in love. It is love, isn’t it? I can be in love with many
women, can I not? This I have always believed. I mean, if something
bad happens to one of my sisters, I weep from the burning ache
within my heart. And…and I do care for my sisters’ well-being,
desiring to be close to them, and not just in our lovemaking.”

He clenched a fist. “I thought I understood love, I
mean real love, lasting love. But this woman has screwed up my
head, turned me upside-down. When I’m close to her, all the
universe is at peace, time does not exist, my heart sings drunk
with merry tunes. And when she’s away… well, I have trouble
thinking about other things when she’s not near.”

Squeezing her companion’s hand, Mihai drew close
until her face was only inches from his. “Sweet One, I have shared
my dreams with more lovers than days you have lived. Each one I
loved, pined for, wished the moment would never end when in that
person’s wonderful arms. I have wept, seeing former lovers dead
upon the field of battle, even when they had joined the enemy camp.
Love is such a queer thing, a kaleidoscope of emotion that is too
scattered to understand. One can only learn to ride those reckless
beams of emotion, trying not to understand what they’re all
about.”

Mihai cooed, “No one has ever questioned your love,
your romance. Few are the men I have impassioned my heart over who
can love as deeply as you. Your dreams are honest and real. You
have the most sincere heart of any man I know.”

Zadar leaned forward, softly kissing Mihai on her
lips. “Other than the Lady, there is no one like you who can lift
my spirits, my passions, as you can. This woman I speak of has not
done such a thing, she not being learned in the ways of lovemaking.
No, she screws up my heart, not my passions. That is also a puzzle
to me, for she has made it clear that I should not forsake loving
my sisters or I would offend her.”

Puzzled, Mihai asked, “Do you think she cares not
for your love, and is trying to be polite to you? You know, the
ways of our people are so different from the ways of her world.
Maybe she doesn’t under…”

“Oh, no!” Zadar answered emphatically. “The woman
has confessed to me that no other man has stolen her heart as I
have done. She cries when she speaks of her love for me.” He shook
his head. “But she’s so strange, mystical - fire and ice. I ache
with a fear that our love will pass away and I will not desire love
again.”

He gathered Mihai’s other hand up and held them both
tightly in his. “You understand the mind-share so well, knowing it
is a release for the heart, in times both good and bad. In times of
trouble, a mind-share is comforting and consoling. Many times my
sisters have sought me out to dream with them after they have lost
a close companion, it letting them ease the pain of death that
weighs so heavily on their hearts. Dear sister, how many dreams
have you and I shared? Hundreds? Many more I do believe.” Mihai
smiled, nodding.

Zadar waxed, frustrated. “The first time we shared
each other’s love, at Sulfur Lake, I could not see into Trisha’s
mind, couldn’t find a way to get in. All the while I felt a raging
inferno boiling within her breast, secrets so vile they tortured
her mind and soul, but she refused my succor. Then, last night we
shared passionate love, but again she sealed her soul from me, and
when I probed to find a way into her heart, the wrath of her angry
resistance was fierce and condemning.”

“Yet, later, in the quiet morning hours, she
confessed that never had she been loved by a man as she had by me.
So confusing… Even more confusing, when we waked, she quickly
dressed in the darkness and scooted from our cabin. She then filled
the day with tiresome activities until well after the dinner hour,
the woman being in a sour mood all that time. When we had finally
dined, she feigned need for late night business, telling me not to
wait up. When she did not return at all, only a little while ago I
came here to seek out a companion.” He glanced into his cup,
admitting sadly, “but I think it, too, has grown cold.”

“Well…” Mihai pondered what she was hearing. “It
might just be a simple case of bashful guilt. You know, the people
of Trisha’s world are the queerest of creatures when it comes to
dealing with feelings. Your lady may well have enjoyed delicious
interludes with you so much that it made her heart feel that
something that good must certainly be wicked. Now she’s off
a’hiding, trying to wrap her mind around the conflict of emotions
racing about inside her.”

“Look, Love...” Mihai released Zadar’s hold and took
one of his hands, pulling it down to the table, cupped in one of
hers. Stroking his opened palm with the fingers of her other hand,
she mused, “Rules, yes, rules and laws, especially made up by a
bunch of religious fools – and believe me when I say the spiritual
leaders of Trisha’s world are all a bunch of arrogant fools – they
make up all kinds of stupid rules that suit their fancy. Pulls ‘em
out of their a… Well, you know what I mean.”

“These rules are all made divine, of course,
directly from God. To them, perfection is all based on control, a
perfect person having perfect control. That’s one reason they
rejected me when I visited that world. Those fools say that if it
feels good, it must be evil, must be controlled. They say that God
only made us feel good things to test us out to fitness. We must
control those feelings because they are really evil, from God, but
evil. Then, after their dogma of control has been fully
established, they shove it down the throats of the common people,
causing those common folk to feel guilty about everything they feel
that’s good.”

She looked up and into Zadar’s face, the man hanging
on her every word. “It screws up the brain, makes people live by
law instead of love and moral responsibility. Takes a long time to
get it out of the head... I was only there for three years or so,
knowing who I really was for that little while, and I still had my
mind screwed up after returning here.” She pointed toward her head.
“It screws you up, really screws you up…”

Raising an eyebrow while smiling pontifically, she
explained, “The more wonderful the emotion, the more evil it must
be, thus the great need to control, and the greater the sin if
broken. The most powerfully enjoyable of these
prurient
acts
, I believe, is that of lovemaking, it bringing two
people into the state of truly becoming one, thus into a divine
body. Yet, by the rules of arrogant men, it has become unholy to
share that gift with someone not delivered up to the other by law.
Screw love!
The people of that world
sell
sex,
steal
sex,
barter
sex, and
pervert
sex but, by
the strictest of laws, it must never be shared freely without the
approval of
Law
.”