Falco Invictus: On the Forge of War (15 page)

Frederika gave Sitara a confounded look, now
even more determined to get her hands on a copy of this Telchar
Shanral that the Princess had referenced. “Sounds a lot like the
Ramayana meets Nietzsche.”

“That’d be about right. It's a good take on
D’Har Tarik.”

“Such a beautiful island you live on. All so
clean und ordered,” Frederika said while the two women continued to
walk the large market.

“It is,” agreed the Princess. “I know what
you think. I can see it in those emerald eyes.”

Frederika raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What is
that?”

“You think this to be a utopia.” Her
companion's expression of awe so often indicative of many who had
stood on the shores of her homeland. They often thought they'd
found a Shangri-La here on Vorkrür.

“It does seem idyllic. Everyone appears to
be at peace.”

“My father often says: 'Do not seek paradise
or trust one who offers you a kingdom of gold. You may find
yourself tasting of ash’,” Sitara quoted.

“Very cynical,” Frederika said. She spread
her arms in front of her. “Considering all your people have built
here. A golden kingdom where all are youthful und healthy. Truly a
shining city on a hilltop made manifest.”

“Frederika,” Sitara spoke in a deliberate,
though not exactly threatening manner. “That is a dangerous road to
go down.” She did not blame the girl in her attempt to ask such
questions, veiled though they were. Who wouldn't after being here
even for a little while? It was all a matter of biology, artificial
intelligence, and drugs. All most forbidden subjects to be divulged
to a human. “Come on.” Sitara moved to change the topic. “Let’s go,
get some food.”

For her part Frederika was pleased with
herself. She had clearly touched on a topic worthy of further
exploration; directness though would not serve her. Perhaps in her
seduction of the Shotar she could get more forthright answers?
Damned inconvenient that her pheromones did not work on
females.

Behind the Queen, her special unit of
Valküri warrior-priestesses followed which she herself had trained.
A hand gesture from Nadia caused the female guards to step back out
of the oval doors and leave her alone with the other woman.

Kalpana Aranskrai sat behind a large desk.
Rigged into a special interface unit was the data crystal her son
had brought back from space. Interference skewed the hologram of
the flat-nosed, golden skinned Kri-Skar alien. It spoke in a broken
bellowing language and its metallic eyes were hard to read. The
image faded in and out.

Kalpana stood. “My Queen.”

“I come not as the Queen this day, Kalpana.
I come as one mother to another.” Nadia smiled even as she towered
over the shorter woman. She lifted her chin slightly to peer at the
hologram. She had heard that Aranskrai had brought back conclusive
evidence that life indeed exist beyond Earth. “So that’s what
Kulcarin found out in deep space.”

“It's hard to translate,” Kalpana said. “So
far I think he, assuming their species even have gender, talks
about some conflict, a 'fire from the stars.' All very
garbled.”

“You got that much in the span of a few
hours?” Nadia asked, surprised. She had no doubt in Kalpana's
expertise, but to unlock even that much of an alien language so
soon would be a profound achievement by any standard.

The hologram flickered. Nadia walked over to
the image of the Kri-Skar to better study it. The being appeared
bulky and tough, she wondered what sort of world it originated on?
Was it a hard, cold place? But that would have to wait. Nadia had
something more important to discuss with the woman. “Kalpana, I
have come to speak about the joining of our tharrins through the
mating of Sitara and Kulcarin.”

“That would please me grandly my Queen. Its
been too long overdue. We Aranskrai serve the Shotar,” Kalpana
said. “My son would be well disposed to this mating, as would
Vultan.”

“Excellent!” Nadia said highly pleased with
herself.

Sitara leisurely strolled the streets of her
homeland with Frederika who enthusiastically enjoyed the sites. The
women bought themselves fried telaach dumplings, bowls of tulath,
along with sweet chocolate-tea, rich and creamy. All of which
turned out to be surprisingly refreshing under the warm sun as they
walked the Golden Road that spanned the curve of the island.

Frederika glanced toward an open space where
Falcanian workers hoisted large yurt-like structures. “What are
they doing over there?”

“They raise thrajs for the festivities this
evening,” Sitara told her. “We'll be dining there tonight after my
father displays The Phoenix Heart.”

In mid-stride beside the Princess who headed
for the latticed A-Frame temple a dozen frightful shrieks startled
the blonde. Her emerald eyes went wide at the sight of the fierce
steeds upon which rode blood-red armored Drakorian Guards. Drak
were a sacred creature to the Falcanian. A product of genetic
manipulation. Crested with a sturdy comb. Each animal had tri-claw
talons able to rip apart a human. Like a hunting bird, Draks had
sharp beaks able to rend flesh with little effort. Their flightless
bodies were covered in feather-like armored scales which came in an
abundance of shades, including deep blood red and black. The Draks
made hissing sounds, and their predatory heads thrust forward to
probe about always alert as they carried their winged riders. They
were creatures as if out of the Jurassic Era.

“T'Saar, your Highness!” the Drakorian
commander saluted.

Imperial-Colonel Atar Kran who reached five
foot seven when he stood and whose great chrome wings extended to
three times that length when in flight, hulked above the two women.
Unlike most Falcanian tierkel his skull was tonsured, save for a
small braid of white hair that contrasted with his dark features. A
simple goatee, like his Shotar's framed his striking hard lined
face. Atar's golden eyes shone with bright Falcanian fire.

“Colonel Kran,” Sitara regally addressed her
progenitor's elite Guard Commander.

“Who is this?” asked Kran halting his Drak
with a pull on the finally tooled reins noticing Frederika beside
the Princess.

“A nodorii who has taken my father's
affections.” replied Sitara and deliberately switched over into
Skora.

“I can see why,” the Drakorian Commander
looked at the human girl who studied the Draks from a respectful
distance. His golden eyes fell to the blonde's cleavage. “Very…
shapely. A fine kieka.”

Sitara made a disinterested shrug at the
Drakorian's gratuitous remark.

“Miss,”Atar Kran said. “You may touch the
beast if you like.”

Frederika stepped closer and recalled the
Shotar's warnings that: A Drak was a fearsome beast. She stroked
its feather like scales, and felt the strong musculature beneath
the purple and black pelt. The Drak turned its long neck to peer at
the blonde who could see there an understanding and intelligence
behind the reflective green eyes.

“Do not worry,” Atar said. “These creatures
are bred to serve.”

Frederika nodded. “Are they sapient?”

“After a fashion. They are one of the few
beasts we are forbidden to slaughter. That should tell you
much.”

Shuriken Kra stood in Sharr's office. At
least his hologram did.

In a half arc Kvaltar Vron, Chancellor of
the Senate Shreik Trakan and a number of other advisers listened to
the Viceroy and Imperial Strato-General complete his report to the
Shotar. Sabina had just finished distributing cups of hot tea to
the gathered advisers when the hologram of the odd Falcanian
materialized before the Shotar. Odd, because the Viceroy wore a
pair of black goggles which concealed much of his face and what she
could see of his ears, though pointed were slightly mauled as if he
had been hit in the head too many times. The overall impression was
that Shuriken Kra must be a peculiar man.

Sharr bid Sabina to wait for him in the room
adjoined to his office. She gave a slight curtsy and went. The
Shotar followed her luscious backside with his eyes.

Vron noticed his friend eye the busty
brunette. A long time ago he had noticed that Sharr truly became
Sharr when he was beside a beautiful female. Generally, women liked
the Shotar. They picked up on his inherent sweetness and he ever
craved their attention. It had been Nadia who made an effort to
ensure that if she were occupied with other matters her mate would
always have a female close at hand to attend for his needs. Of
course the first had been his Kajra Re, for whom the title had been
invented.

“How goes it in Kuras?” the Shotar asked
while he sipped from his bergamot flavored tea.

“Lehaja's having the palace cleansed. She’s
concerned about those new plants Kvaltar sent over and thinks they
might contain a parasite.” the Viceroy alluded to his mate's rabid
mysophobia. “That and Nadia's mother got on her nerves. Remind me
again why I live with your in-laws?”

Sharr chuckled. “Because you're the best one
for the job. Remember I chose you as Viceroy because I didn't want
the locals to think the British Raj had returned. There are few who
are as disarming as you, Shuriken Kra.”

The hologram glanced at the assembled group
through his goggles. Certainly Kvaltar could by far be more
“disarming” or perhaps more skilled at the arts of diplomacy then
Shuriken could ever hope to be. Vron could have served as Viceroy
of Kuras, though he was more concerned with making new
technological solutions and wandering about the Earth in
exploration then administration. Which was why he turned over the
control of the Guilthari caste to the Vorskrai once the Khanate had
become fully sovereign, and also for the most part completely
dissociated himself from the government structure, yet remained
Sharr’s trusted vizier.

“Troop force has increased by ten percent,”
the Viceroy added. “Our plans are well underway.”

“Good,” the Shotar said.

The gathered advisers exchanged agreeable
nods and words.

“House Aranskrai has become a rising star,”
the Shotar informed. “Young Kulcarin Aranskrai has brought us back
something very special.” Sharr touched a button on his desk. An
emerald green planet in the form of a hologram hovered above Sharr
and his council.

“What is that?” Chancellor Trakan asked.

“A world whose civilization it seems has
long since gone to dust.” Sharr's blue-gray eyes studied the world
in orbit of a red sun. A small almost metallic-blue planetoid
revolved around the larger world like a moon, yet seemed to be a
would be twin planet locked in orbit. “Though he was unable to
prevent the
DSV Excalibur
from completing her mission,
Kulcarin stumbled across a great find. This world is free to be
had.”

Vron frowned. “Do we know that for
sure?”

“All we know for certain is that a Great War
once was waged on this planet between two races: the Kri-Skar and
their foes the Gwareen. It brought the end of the Kri-Skar
civilization.” Sharr's data was based on what Kalpana Aranskrai had
translated from the crystal her son had brought back from his
mission. “We're working out the exact location. The alien's
star-charts are not like our own as it seems their stardrive works
along different properties. There is also a matter of translation
and it seems the Kri-Skar encoded them. They had no wish for others
to easily find their home planet.” he added. “Once we do understand
them, I fully intend to launch a RECON mission to seek out this
star system.”

“Fascinating!” Shriek exclaimed. “Kulcarin
did well.”

“This is indeed true. We never expected to
find this sort of thing. But there's more. Kalpana also stumbled on
an interesting word during her translation.” Sharr paused as the
advisers listened raptly. He focused his gaze on his chancellor,
knowing Shreik Trakan would be familiar with what the Shotar was
about to say. “Nibiru.”

“The Annunaki?” Shreik jolted upward. “It
can't be!”

Trakan had not been stunned when they had
first sent Aranskrai out into deep space to prevent an alien
contact, the concept of other species out among the stars did not
bother him at all. This one ancient Sumerian word however managed
to confound him. The implication, worrisome. “Do we know anything
else?” Shreik demanded.

“Only that the Kri-Skar had been their
allies and perhaps even the Annunaki's own creators, who abandoned
them to their fate. At least that’s how we understand the
translation.”

“My Shotar,” an urgent voice came from a
speaker. “A signal comes, sent, addressed personally to you from
the Imperium. It originates from a Budjah source. Shall I put it
through?"

Sharr sighed. “Go ahead.”

“It has been a long time… my old
friend.”

Sharr narrowed his eyes at that grating
metallic voice. He walked around the scarlet clad holo image of
Bishop Styx, and sized the metal man up. “We have not spoken in a
long time, Erik. What brings you to my island? Do you care to
re-ignite our old email debates? The Catholic versus the Heathen.
Better still, why did you allow your monks to enter our base?”

“To bring the truth.”

“Nothings changed, Erik. Not since before
you joined the Techatron Union and allowed Omicron to remake you
into this thing.” There had been a time when the Shotar and the
Bishop were close friends. But this was before the war, before the
Earth fell to pieces around them and needed to be re-forged. They
were different men back then, filled with unique ideas about human
potential. The steel of humanity still smoldered in the kiln, it
waited to be placed on the anvil and hammered once more. Styx and
Sharr were only in the second act of the play now, though they had
inherited the Earth.

A harsh laugh came from the cybernetic
Bishop. “We both remade ourselves, my brother. Only my form is free
from the sins of flesh. You crave it.”