The Chronicles of Heaven's War: Burning Phoenix (60 page)

Trisha raised a hand. “My brother, please
trust your fate to this new arrangement. I tell you all for a fact,
it has not been over ale and magic weed that decisions were made.
And I will also tell you all a secret for your ears only: This
arrangement was concocted by none other than the Maker of Worlds,
herself. True! I was there. What she is up to, or exactly how it
will all work, I do not yet know, but I do trust it all, seeing it
has come from her own mouth.”

The tension in Barkai’s face eased. After
thanking the field marshal for such news, he went on at length to
reveal what information he did have. In conclusion, the general
attempted to lift the spirits of the others by pointing out the
upcoming completion of three new carriers, pointing out that
Gabrielle, herself, was soon to take command of the Sophia. “Once
those new carrier fleets are on line, we will have battle groups
equal to anything the League of Brothers can throw at us.” He then
quietly sat.

After another half hour of official
conversation and debate, Trisha stood to bring conclusion to the
evening’s proceedings. Her dander being still up from the Prisoner
Exchange, she suffered her lieutenants with pummeling rants,
carrying on as though they were responsible for the current state
of affairs and lack of preparedness. Had these officers been of
thinner skin or less amenable nature as might be found in the
diplomatic corps, the remainder of the meeting might have erupted
in riot, but this did not happen. Wisdom abounded about that table,
the officers understanding the real reasons for their appointments
to serve as the field marshal’s lieutenants.

Her tongue filled with righteous
indignation, Trisha stormed, “How can I determine our real strength
if you do not have accurate numbers? Tell me, please! If you know,
is there a current roster showing the exact number of even our
officers presently in uniform?”

No one offered to hazard a guess.

Exasperated, Trisha coldly stated as if
speaking to wayward children. “Your brother will not wait for us to
gather the pigeons or assemble the couriers before his coming day
of vengeance. He will strike soon! Very soon! Especially since I
made him piss his pants at the Prisoner Exchange...”

She turned and stared up at the ceiling.
“You say there are currently about one million soldiers serving in
all facets of the military, and many of them are busy growing
crops, mending clothes and repairing equipment in order to keep our
military machine alive. I bet you don’t have one tenth of that
number available for a full knock-down drag-out fight! And…” She
angrily stamped the deck. “I’ll bet there aren’t enough derelict
tubs as good as this one to transport half
that
number into
battle!”

Frustrated, Trisha groused, “Asotos will hit
us in less than six months,
one hundred eighty days!
He will
carry in his van twenty million battle-tried, front-line warriors,
and what will we have to stop him up but a
piss in the wind
…
oh, and a new carrier that will be undermanned!”

Eyes aflame, she quickly turned about,
leaning forward and resting her hands flat on the table,
exclaiming,
“The hour has passed for pleasantries! At whatever
cost and by whatever means, we must tap into the resources
available to us if we are to resist Satan’s onslaught!”

She glared defiant. “Veterans must be
recalled to service, new recruits enlisted, every old Navy ship
resurrected and private ships commandeered. We also must rebuild
our military machine by whatever means possible.
The time for
lazy sleep is over!”

Standing back, she began to slowly pace,
hands clasped behind her back, speaking indifferently, as if merely
thinking aloud. “At the upcoming wars council meeting, I am
introducing my recommendations for bringing this people up to speed
- no more room for slackers. I will advocate the military be given
permission to exercise the clause in the Empire’s constitution that
allows us to exercise the powers of eminent domain over all
property and possessions of the civilian population that are deemed
important to the cause. I will propose that, if necessary, a
confiscation protocol be put in place for the procurement of
foodstuffs and other necessary supplies, this to include the
indenturing of the population for its successful accomplishment.
And, if necessary, we will implement a draft to refill the ranks of
the military.”

Trisha looked into the faces of her
lieutenants, their own faces expressionless. Shaking a finger high,
the field marshal smiled. “A time comes when freedom can only be
bought with slavery, a lesson
my kind
have learned well.
Slavery! Yes, slavery to a cause with only the reward that such
slavery shall again, one day, return the people to freedom.”

Observing no reply, Trisha went on about
other more mundane matters, she feeling that the others were
beginning to grasp, as Asotos had, that this creature from lost
worlds was not to be trifled with. Hers was the way - the way of
the Romans and Greeks, the way of the Babylonians and Persians, the
Egyptians and… and all the great nations that had understood the
need to commandeer freedom to protect their empires. Was she not to
bring Hell to Heaven? Was slavery not part of this Hell, a
desperately needed Hell to save the people from their own
laziness?

And what of those in the room being
pummeled? Asleep they were not, but filled with wisdom, as Lowenah
knew they would be. Like a mentor quietly releasing the reins to an
underling, these people knew that Trisha must push the envelope if
she were to grow. Who better to receive the blows than the ones who
understood the reasons? For the moment, Trisha must be the brash,
arrogant, protagonist, being permitted to openly express her views
and desires no matter the depth of her caustic criticisms. Then,
when the hour was right, like that patient mentor, guiding hands
would share in taking hold the reins again to teach the youngling
how to master the powers of the team to do the bidding of her
will.

Although the mind may reason with such
logic, it is often not an easy matter for the heart to share the
mind’s understanding. Trisha lingered after her lieutenants were
dismissed, they intending to continue with business the following
day. At length, only she and Zadar were found in the room. Feeling
the energy of her assumed successes this night, she sauntered over
to the man as he sat studying some recent communiqué. Stepping up
behind Zadar, Trisha leaned forward, pressing her breasts against
his back. Nuzzling close, she whispered sweet seductions in his
ear.

Zadar did not respond the way Trisha
expected. Instead, he politely feigned need to attend to further
business and might find the hour late before accomplishing it.
Trisha was taken aback, the man never before refusing her advances.
Standing up and requesting he face her, she asked, confused, what
business was so important that it could not wait a few fleeting
hours hence. Looking up into Trisha’s face with red, swollen eyes,
Zadar asked if he could speak freely with the commander.

Trisha blinked, surprised to be addressed in
such a formal manner by the man who had shared her bed the very
night before, and the night before that. “Why… why certainly. I… I
wish you hold no secrets from me at all… Whatever is on your
heart.”

Zadar spoke hesitantly, his voice cracking
at times. “I… I love you so much, much more, or at least
differently, than I have any other woman. Yet my ardor for you is
not as great for you as my passion for my own kind.”

He stood, tenderly squeezing Trisha’s upper
arms. “You see the world as it is now, you being born into it at
this very late date. I have seen this world only through its
grieving times, its misery and tribulation, witnessing not the
early days of innocent bliss. Yet to imply that my kind are
listless and uncaring is to say that I, too, am such. To believe
that slavery will win over hearts that have known only freedom is
to believe one can gather up the salty oceans and drink fresh
water.”

“My love, you see a world of carefree
children wishing only for days of bliss. I see rivers of blood and
bodies torn asunder trying to preserve what little sanity might
remain in this sordid world. I have held the ruined and shattered
bodies of my companions and lovers as the life drained from their
faces, consoled the dying as they begged for one last drink of
water. More battles have I seen, been witness to, shared in, than
years you have lived.”

Zadar turned away to hide his tears. “My
people are not shiftless... They are torn, battered, beaten, used
up... For these many thousands of years, they have returned to the
Kriggerman’s haunts to again face the demons of darkness. The dead
wish for nothing. The living wish to feel nothing, jealous over the
peaceful state of their dead kindred. This
Hell
that burns
so deep, to the consuming of our hearts, is what my kind dream of
escaping. Romancing the past helps them forget the present,
allowing them to feel something other than despair.”

“Hope...hope in an eventual release from a
Hell that is far greater than any your kind has suffered - is the
reason my kind fight and die...hope that should enough blood be
spilt in ignoble combat, the Kriggerman’s lust for the slaughter
will eventually be satisfied, and my kind will again be allowed a
return to some kind of sanity. Our hope is that your kind will help
us achieve our release from the Kriggerman’s iron grip, that your
kind will deliver us salvation.”

Zadar’s voice faltered, his shoulders
slumping. “But what good is salvation if it is only an exchange of
one kind of servitude for another? The Kriggerman wears many
disguises.”

Trisha was stunned silent. She knew not what
to say or do in response to Zadar’s revelations. The woman did not,
could not, comprehend the meaning of her lover’s words. She could
not fathom the anguish in his heart at seeing the savior of his
kind revealing the utter contempt she had for them. She could not
see that it was not his love for her, but his trust in his Mother
that kept him from rebuking her and taking his leave.

Before Trisha could make reply, Zadar turned
and took her hands, the tears on his cheeks reflecting the room’s
light. He bowed his head, apologizing. “Forgive me, please, for my
brashness. You are our chief magistrate in war, a gift from Mother
to be revered and supported. Wisdom she has given to you that I do
not have, nor do I claim to understand. I am, always will be your
loyal servant, and I do love you. Always will...”

He hesitated, and then made request. “Please
allow me a little time to sort out in my mind these current
feelings I am experiencing. Tomorrow, yes tomorrow, will be much
different, but tonight I need time to think.”

Trisha frowned, dismayed, but acquiesced,
deeply troubled and still very confused over the issue. Zadar
thanked her and, taking his leave, quietly exited the room.

About this same time, the first officer was
briefing Captain Uuzuloft concerning a strange anomaly that had
been plaguing the Dogie’s scanning equipment throughout the day.
“We noticed it about eighteen hundred hours, when we first engaged
the hyper systems. It has continued to fade in and out of our
scopes ever since. At times we can find a signature, but it’s of no
known engine design that we have record… that is, if it’s really an
engine at all. The signal is too weak and garbled for us to obtain
a true lock on it.”

Frowning, the officer added, “It has been on
a constant track with us since we picked up the signal, changes
course and speed as we do. It might be a ship shadowing us, but it
doesn’t seem likely.”

Captain Uuzuloft leaned forward, tapping the
navigation screen after a white, glowing dot flared bright and
quickly faded away. He did not feel comfortable about the matter.
“This tracking equipment is in need of servicing, been neglected
far too long. It might be a glitch in the machinery. Still…” He
stood back, thinking, while playing with his beard. “Could be our
own ship’s echo, space debris, or something else related to our
speed.”

Hesitating a moment, considering whether the
field marshal need be bothered with this, Uuzuloft sighed. “Keep a
close eye on this and let me know if it behaves in any way hostile
or threatening. If you conclude it is a vessel of any kind, contact
me immediately. Also, please keep a detailed log regarding this,
charting, times, intensity of its signature. Even if it is just an
anomaly, the information might prove useful in the future.”

At that, Captain Uuzuloft took his leave,
surrendering the bridge to his first officer. The Dogie continued
along its course toward EdenEsonbar and whatever the future fates
had chosen for it. The anomaly continued to haunt the ship’s
detection systems far past Pilneser, finally disappearing
completely after the Teleohodos Jump Portal. Except for on duty
crew, the remainder those aboard quietly slept, that is except for
a perplexed field marshal who lay awake, listening to the
heartthrob of the Dogie’s engines while sadly pondering why her
lover had rejected her arms this night.

* * *

(
Author’s note
: The following is
an excerpt from Garlock and Copeland’s,
The
King’s War
, pp 204-205. “There were eight commanding and
staff officers, all hand-picked by Trisha and Lowenah, and all with
Lowenah’s personal approval. Five were from the First Realm and
three from the Realms Beneath. Four were her top generals and the
rest were her top-ranking staff officers.

HoiOnarasis, meaning ‘son of my dreams or
visions’, was among the oldest of Trisha’s officers. He had been
one of the leading generals from the first days of Rebel Wars.
‘HoiO’, as most people called him, was Trisha’s immediate
lieutenant. His long history of leadership and prowess, along with
the great respect he commanded, made him the outstanding candidate
for such a position. One other personal ability made him valuable
to this company. He was also a healer.