Ghosts of Lyarra (37 page)

“They have control with a few key positions, yet the major and overlooked piece of the puzzle remains loyal to our cause. That’s where you come in Captain.” Aen
explained.

“Me?”

“Caretaker, is the open Ifierin frequency still open and
unmonitored?”

“
Indeed it is
.” The Ai replied proudly. “
Age old hatred and contempt seemed to have omitted that channel from being scrutinized. Quite the major faux pas if you ask
me
.”

“I need you to contact all your fellow soldiers Axyn.” Aen began. “Cross reference the list of traitors that Caretaker has compiled for us and make sure you can trust the ones you speak to. Tell them little about the plan, but enough to gain support; maybe tell them of the ‘Forgotten’ presence in their ranks to encourage the precise action needed. Once the ceremony starts, Caretaker will shut down all ship to ship communication and the troops can take back the
Fleet.”

“And my Elite?” Bryx piped
up.

“They will raze the Temple on Ryas to the ground and burn all traces of the Guild to ash. By the time Myril is set to receive the throne, her forces will be dwindled to those which surround her there. Those will be mine to deal
with.”

“You make it sound like it will be easy.” Axyn mumbled
sarcastically.

“Your parts are.” Aen replied somberly. “Our enemy feels secure and confident; she won’t expect an attack so close to home in her moment of triumph. My part on the other hand, is a bit more complicated. Each of you must complete your objective before the ceremony, and before I make my
move.”

“And if we don’t?” Bryx
boomed.

“Then everything we worked for; everything Iana stood for, will be washed away the moment Myril sits upon that
throne.”

—
Lyarran System; Throne World Havyiin, Imperial Palace

Three weeks; three more weeks until the throne was hers. Each day passed slower than the last, but the closer the coronation got the more relaxed Myril became. Most threats had been neutralized; the Fleet, the Council and everything they commanded were hers. There were only a few loose ends, with the incoming Dark Light as the most
troubling.

At last she had heard, it had been inbound after a long set of communication silence and untouched by her hands of change. The message to begin the waiting coup within the ranks never got through; as far as Myril knew, Council Lyxia still controlled the Dark Light and posed itself to be a minor wrinkle in what was unfolding to be the perfect day. She revelled in the thought that it would be caught in her web of security as it emerged from jump-space, then held until the coup could be carried out. By the time she had been crowned, the flagship of the great Fleet would be hers to control at last. All the details had been covered; all except
one.

The ghost that was haunting her; the tormenter which poked continually at her through his messages was still at large. All attempts to find him had failed, so instead of playing the part of the sword, Myril concentrated on creating a shield; one that the Prophets themselves could not breach. Around the perimeter would be a guard of Ifierin, within the crowd would be scattered her ranks of the Forgotten, and around the stage would be the Imperial Guard. If he stayed true to his promise and showed his face, he would be struck down quickly and publically. His failed attempt on her life would be the perfect show of her power to the rest of the
Empire.

Deep in thought, Myril didn’t hear one of her servants approach and startled when she realized she wasn’t
alone.

“My apologies, your Highness.” The old priest
bowed.

“What is it?” she
hissed.

“I only wanted to convey the message that we have committed attendance and imminent arrivals for representatives of all the Imperial worlds; even the J’Karin.” He said
apologetically.

“J’Karins?” she pondered while waving him off with a dismissive wave, “Even the J’Karins are acknowledging my rule. What a wonderful surprise; maybe there is use for the tunnel diggers after
all.”

It was all coming together and she was becoming quite impressed with it all. Even the mighty trolls knew to bow to her will; she giggled at the thought of even Bryx succumbing to her will and being her servant. That would make her day, and roused a thought of her assassins slitting his throat as he bowed before her; watching his black blood stain the floor as the life poured from his wretched body. And Myril wouldn’t stop
there.

Sacrifices would have to be made for the sake of survival, and it was only right that the former slaves would lay down their lives and their world to save the rest of them. The darkness had a thirst that needed worlds to satiate it, and she couldn’t think of a more fitting sacrifice than J’Karra. It would keep the demons at bay for some time, and keep her end of the deal, that would mean the survival of her
Empire.

Like few others, Myril had seen the signs of doom rising in the horizon ages ago. But unlike others, she chose to deal with it sooner than later and as she faced it the realization of how immensely vast and powerful it was changed her perception of what the future held. Instinct kicked in as she knew there was no victory against this foe and she made a deal; the Empire would be hers to rule as a province in the kingdom of darkness yet to come. She would live, she would rule, and the darkness would pass them by. Myril had bargained for the very lives of the Empire and all those within; her heart was pure with intentions of
good.

And now looking upon the eve of her triumph, Myril thought upon that deal and the way things could have gone; as well as what this meddlesome ghost sought to undo. Iana would have chosen to fight - and the Imperial Fleet posed a threat like none other to the shadows - so without her at the helm meant peace and coexistence. It wasn’t a victory, but more of a compromise and Myril was more than content with
it.

The Guild was about survival - of both knowledge and of the Empire it had created - so convincing those of the merits of the deal had not been difficult. And over time they began to see the merits of such a plan. Sacrificing one for the safety of many was a wise choice; even if that one was Iana who they had placed all their hope in, to guide the Empire since its inception. And with the support of the Guild came the loyalty of the Forgotten and thus giving Myril soldiers to carry out her plan. Then it was simple politics to sway support in the Council, and those that resisted were replaced by those more compliant. Then a child’s tale became reality and the Harbinger came to
be.

He was the crowning piece to a puzzle; a weapon of that magnitude at her whim would ensure the safety of the Empire from the darkness in case it decided to no longer keep to the deal. But Iana let him die, and with it her guarantee of a long term survival went with him. For the first time ever, Myril began to hate her friend. For the first time ever, she wanted Iana
dead.

And now she was, and all that was planned was coming to fruition. Three weeks stood between her and her destiny and not even the lurking darkness could prevent that. It was the time of Myril; a new age to usher in a new life for the Lyarran Empire. She would show them what it meant to be strong and proud, and those that survived the brush with the darkness would stand above those who had fallen; on the bones of the weak and dead she would build a better Empire. Three weeks; it would be a lifetime of work culminating in a single day, but would feel like forever until it
happened.

—
Guild Stealth Vessel;
Unmapped Space outside Lyarran Shipping Lanes

First they had watched the Dark Light move off in the distance, become nothing more than a speck from where they sat, then in a brilliant flash engage her jump-space drives and speed off towards the center of the Empire. Then after an hours wait, the two J’Karin ships did the same. Bryx, Iana, Lyxia, and Aen now sat all alone in an unused shipping lane and in the middle of empty space. There were no stars or planets nearby, just darkness broken up by the twinkling light of the distant stars and the glowing gas clouds scattered about
them.

“So your plan was to sit here and stay lost?” Bryx grumbled. “Because if it was, you’re doing a great
job.”

“You’re not seeing the big picture.” Aen smirked. “Patience; I promise we won’t wait
long.”

“Wait for what?” it was Lyxia’s turn to question
him.

“Our ride home of course.” He
smiled.

“I don’t get it.” Lyxia exclaimed. “What do you mean, our
ride?”

“Despite this ship’s incredible abilities to stay hidden, her one weakness would be the instant it enters and exits jump-space.” Aen answered. “The fields and energy output required to do this task undoes any stealth technologies it
carries.”

“That’s right!” Iana agreed. “The moment we would arrive at the Zyan jump point, the ship exiting the jump-space field would be seen by any and all watching. From that point, they would be able to track us, with
ease.”

“So that leaves us with no possibility of arriving there without being discovered, and leaves us needing a ride.” Aen
added.

“And you intend to find this ride in the middle of nowhere?” Bryx boomed. “This vent point hasn’t been on the map since the first years of the Empire. It is too far out of the way and is inefficient for time saving flight paths; no ships use this
route.”

“Ah, but you are wrong! There is one ship that does use this route still, and Caretaker has calculated that it should be along very soon to vent her drives.” Aen corrected
him.

“One ship?” Iana thought on it for a moment, then her eyes lit up as she realized what he was talking about. “You don’t
mean….”

Space off the port side erupted in a storm of lightning and surging energy; crackling as the dark void was breached. A few seconds later, the storm spit out a giant Lyarran cruiser that all of them recognized due to her golden hull plating. Even in the darkness of deep space, it still shone brilliantly. It had toured most of the inner Imperial worlds and let the masses grieve the fallen goddess, but now was on its return trip home. Beside them now sat the Empress’ personal cruiser - the Lyarra’s Fire - and a sense of irony washed over them
all.

“Fitting that we are going to stop a coronation by hitching a ride on your funeral procession.” Aen almost giggled and shot Iana a smug look. “It will be the last place they would think of looking, and the one ship that won’t be over scrutinized upon
arrival.”

They watched as the familiar vents opened on the sides of the ship and noxious gasses from the powerful jump-space reactors belched out into the nothingness. Aen started the timer in his head; they had twenty minutes to attach to the hull in a non-conspicuous location before the massive reactor spooled up for the final jump home. But he didn’t have to search for a spot because Caretaker had assessed every inch of the vessel’s hull and preselected the suitable location. All Aen had to do was guide their ship along a plotted course and activate the landing gear to attach magnetically and let the Lyarra’s Fire take them to the Promised
Land.

Using thrusters only - to avoid detection at close range - he edged the stealth craft to the rear of the golden cruiser and beneath her belly. Aen was careful to avoid the plumes of radioactive gasses pouring from the reactor; they had come too far to die from sheer stupidity. They were close, but thruster power was slow and time was ticking away. At his best guess, he figured they had six or seven minutes before the ship re-entered jump-space and at this range they would be not only ripped apart by the field but destroyed by the explosion caused by the igniting gasses being
expelled.

He pushed the engines a bit harder and risked detection; knowing full well the cruiser was operating on a skeleton staff and quite possibly was not monitoring the area closely due to its remoteness. Down the belly they cruised, and at long last found the target location. Near the rear of the ship there lay a deep recess in the hull just before the sub-light engine baffles. Here they would be tucked away and safe from the forces of jump-space; the aerodynamics of the hull would protect them from the pressures of the thrust used in the high speed travel. Aen flipped the ship upside down and turned the nose to face the bow of the Lyarra’s Fire and lowered the ship to its hiding spot. The gear made contact with the thick hull in a thud that echoed through the smaller ship and automatically attached magnetically with a steady hum. It was done, and not a second too soon as, moments later space exploded around them and disappeared in a wash of greens, blues and purples dancing about
them.

Aen had forgotten to lower the blast shields on the Ops Con windows as the dizzying display began to quickly overwhelm the optical nerves of the others. His hand slammed the button and the shudders closed amidst cries of pain. The other three had covered their eyes with their hands, but the effects of the broken spectrums of light poured right through their attempts to protect themselves. It only took a few seconds for the blast shields to close, but in that time Iana, Bryx and Lyxia had all passed out from the sensory overload. Aen too felt a bit off, but his body was combating the effects far more efficiently than they
could.