Exiles
* * * *
Photons swirled around the empty board room, high above the capital, in the Penthouse Suite of Malstrom's corporate headquarters. As Henderson’s customary avatar, cigarette in hand, recalled the stakeholders to confront their enemies. He waited for the holographic avatars to assume their seats. Then snapped his fingers to project holographic images above them, of the three fleets that surrounded the planet and their commanders, who demanded an audience with them.
Henderson took a deep drag on his cigarette and addressed their enemies. “Gentlemen, I mean Lady and Gentlemen, on behalf of the board of stakeholders I welcome you to Malshenko, the Malstrom Corporations home world.”
A fat balding man in a dark navy two piece uniform bedecked in gold braid and medals, with a hooked nose and watery grey eyes, replied. “I, Admiral Whillans of the Vesperon Corporation flagship ‘Hades’, call upon you to stand down your defences and surrender your assets for assimilation.”
“Really?” replied Henderson feigning surprise. “You and whose armies exactly?”
“This is Komandant Nolan of the Haldyne flagship Hyperion we concur with Whillans.” added the Komandant. His long black hair threaded through a khaki baseball cap, emblazed with three gold stars, hanging down the back of a plain khaki uniform in a neatly braided ponytail. He fixed his cold blue eyes on Henderson and the stakeholders as he caressed the stubble on his square cut jaw and waited for a response.
“This is Marshall Indra of the Zodan flagship Zenobia we also concur with Whillans.” Added a dark skinned woman in a white jumpsuit emblazoned with the black logo of Zodan forces, two crossed rifles inside a black laurel wreath. Her dark brown hair tucked under a flat black military cap that shaded her hazel eyes. “Under the terms of the Galois Treaty you are required to surrender your assets to the combined fleets assembled here today, to facilitate the winding up of the Malstrom Corporation and allocation of all its remaining assets to interested parties.”
A thin, cruel smile, flickered across Admiral Whillans face as he lent forward in his seat, the gold braid rocking gently as the sudden movement caused the medals on his chest to jangle. “Our armies Henderson, no more games, no more tricks, it’s over. Malstrom is finished, hell you’re finished too, it all ends here today. You have the three largest fleets in human history knocking at your door, now how do you want to play it?”
Henderson tossed his half smoked cigarette casually aside, watching it dissolve into a puddle of light on the floor, before vanishing. Then took out a fresh one, dispensing with the usual ritual he when through before lighting it. The other stakeholders looked on anxiously as he took a deep draw, exhaling unevenly, then realised he was trying to suppress a laugh. He coughed, as his chest convulsed, before finally forcing himself to speak. “Technically speaking ours was the largest, most powerful, fleet in human history till, well we all know that story don't we, but you never did let the facts get in the way of good speech did you ‘Admiral’ Whillans? But I’m so glad, so very glad, you’ve brought everyone to the party, because we’re all going to have so much fun today aren’t we?”
“Enough all ready.” shouted Marshall Indra slamming her fist into the armrest of her chair before keying in her weapon release codes. “This fool is not going to surrender, lets frag their orbital defence batteries and send in the shock troops.”
“I concur, he’s lost his mind. Authorising nuclear launch codes, just give the words Whillans and we’ll erase them from history.” chimed in Komandant Nolan punching his nuclear release codes into the console in front of him, slowly and deliberately, without any trace of emotion.
Admiral Whillans relaxed and sat back in his chair his hands clasped across his chest staring impassively at Henderson. “You know I really didn’t want it to come to this, but my ‘friends’ are very impatient, as is my employer Vesperon. So I suggest you listen carefully, very carefully.” he paused for effect and to ensure he had Henderson’s attention.
“Please continue.” Henderson replied gesturing casually with his cigarette for him to continue.
“Unless you surrender completely and unconditionally right here, right now, over a thousand nukes will come raining down on your heads. Thousands more on every conceivable target in this miserable little solar system of yours. We’ll destroy every orbital battery, every planeside military installation, ever starship, every shipyard, every facility in this system. After we’ve done that, which we estimate will take us a little under five, maybe ten minutes at the outside, given our overwhelming firepower, we’re going to send in millions of shock troops.” Whillans unclasped his hands pushed himself to his feet and stepped close to the camera that was beaming his image to back to the planet.
“Ugh, that’s close enough.” said Henderson’s avatar mockingly, holding up his hands to his face, feigning terror. “You really ought to get something done about those pores.”
Admiral Whillans trembled slightly with rage at the insolence of the man, but continued talking as if nothing had happened. “They'll swarm over what's left of that miserable little rock of yours, like a plague of locust, and strip it bare of every last asset you have. Your people will be rounded up and dispersed to countless slave planets across the galaxy, where they will lead very short and very unpleasant lives. We will leave this a lifeless, barren system. We will erase the Malstrom Corporation and everyone who ever served it from history as a warning to others.” Whillans rage finally got the better as he yelled at Henderson. “You will surrender now or die by the corporate liturgy you serve. ‘No mercy or compassion for the weak, only the spoils of victory for the strong, as it was meant to be.’”
“Bravo, bravo, that really was an excellent speech.” Henderson shouted clapping his hands in the air above his head. “But technically speaking if you erase us from history that won’t really serve as warning to anyone will it, because they’ll never know we existed will they?”
“Enough, stop humouring the fool and let’s be done with it, my troops grow impatient.” growled Marshall Indra. “I am personally going to dispose of him.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t going to happen. Firstly none of us are actually here on the planet right now. These are just our avatars, holographic representations, we could be anywhere in the galaxy. So good luck tracking us down, especially me.” replied Henderson smiling as he crushed his holographic cigarette out on the table, photons splaying out crazily in all directions across it. “Secondly we have already voted to allocate all the remaining assets and resources of the Malstrom Corporation to the Brethren for the propagation of the faith. So I suggest you take up your claim with the Brethren representatives on the missionary ship Dobzhansky. Who, I believe, are hoping to convert you all to the way of the faith.”
Komandant Nolan smiled. “The Malstrom research ship Dobzhansky, we’ve been looking for that for months. I can’t wait to see what you’ve been cooking up in its cloning labs.”
“Resurrection technology, the key to immortal life, if the rumours are true.” Marshall Indra mumbled half aloud to herself.
“Snap out it you two, we can worry about fairy stories later. I’ll target the Dobzhansky's wormhole generator to make sure they don’t jump out of the system. We can pick over her bones when we're done here. Now let’s show this crazy bastard we mean business.” Admiral Whillans his voice cold and measured once more cut through the chatter. “Initiate attack plan Omega.”
Henderson Avatar suddenly exploded, spewing countless photons out in a multitude of directions, before coalescing into a new image. Tracy the High Priestess, head down, hood up, her face hidden in its shadow. Two bright orange pinpricks of light, blazing out of the darkness, where one would have expected her eyes to be.
“I do hope you’re not about to do anything rash?” she said quietly, slowly raising her head up and throwing her purple hood back. A broad smile crossing her dark, blood red lips, as she stared deeply into Whillans eyes. “I am the High Priestess of the Brethren and this planet, this system
and everything on it and in it is under my protection.”
Marshall Indra sighed. “I had no idea Malstrom had turned Malshenko into an asylum. Look I don’t care who or what you think you are, but no one is stopping my nukes, so try not to take this personally.” she concluded keying in the co-ordinates of the Malstrom Penthouse suite, sending a small tactical nuclear warhead screaming towards it.
“What the hell?” said Admiral Whillans.
“You do realise, she's only an avatar?” added Komandant Nolan incredulously. “Most likely projected from the Dobzhansky.” silently instructing several boarding parties to initiate an attack and claim it.
“But she is an extremely annoying one at that, beside we have more than enough nukes to spare, so you’ll forgive me a little indulgence won’t you? It’s not like Zodan are going to make me account for all of them like the Haldyne will with you.” said Indra smiling at Nolan.
A raging torrent of red and purple was undulating through the High Priestess hair as bright red flames flickered in her pupils. Her smile narrowing to a cruel split in her dark red lips, framing her perfectly arranged cold white teeth, like a predator ready to strike. “Don’t you know it’s rude to talk about someone as if they’re not there?”
“It I’ll take more than some cheap nano enhanced genetic showmanship to impress me dear, that so last year fashion wise, besides let’s face it, you’re not all there are you? High Priestess indeed.” snorted Indra. “Now do us all a favour shut up and die.”
“Something’s wrong you nuke is veering off course it heading away from the planet towards the Haldyne fleet.” snapped Admiral Whillans “Can we all just ignore her and focus on the battle plan. Please.”
A blinding flash illuminated the holographic representation of the battle that still hung over the table in the board room. The stakeholders avatars watched the exchange unfold around them in stunned silence. The nuke, that moments before had been hurtling to towards them, had veered violently off course and detonated itself in the space between the Dobzhansky and Haldyne flagship Hyperion. Nolan threw his arms across his face as the flash of detonation rocked the bridge of the Hyperion, temporarily blinding its sensors, and incinerating the boarding parties he’d sent to claim the Dobzhansky.
“You crazy bitch, you just fragged an entire division of our elite troops.” yelled Nolan coming to his senses. “This is Komandant Nolan to all Haldyne vessels you are to target the Zodan flagship Zenobia immediately.”
“It was a malfunction, not that you should have been going after the Dobzhansky anyway, but by all means allow me to return the favour.” said Marshall Indra ordering her ships to target the Haldyne flagship Hyperion, holding out her right arm and slowly squeezing her fingers into a fist. “Now let’s see if you’ve got the balls for a fight with a real solider.”
“Enough all ready!” snapped Admiral Whillans. “Can’t you see they’ve got some sort tech on the Dobzhansky messing with your guidance systems? Let’s see how they handle a full on assault. All vessels, repeat all vessels, open fire on and destroy the Dobzhansky immediately.”
“No not the Dobzhansky, I claim that vessel and its resurrection technology for Zodan, destroy any vessel that tries to fire on it.” cried Indra.
“As do I for the Haldyne.” shouted Nolan.
Tracy, the High Priestess, threw back her head, arms outstretched and laughed out loud, before calming herself and speaking to the assembled stakeholders. “You see my children you have nothing to fear from the hollow words of the faithless, the unbelievers, who even how are prepared to tear themselves apart as we watch on. It is as it ever was, the faithful are rewarded, but they!” she pointed accusingly to the holographic images of the three fleet leaders, her hair flickering from red through purple to black and back again as she spoke. “Have indeed been judged and found wanting.”
She lowered her accusing finger and focused her attention on Whillans, Nolan, and Indra, ensuring, with Anderson’s unseen assistance, that her words were conveyed to every crewmember on every ship. “But let it not be said the Brethren is without mercy. Even thought your leaders have been judged and found wanting. I offer you all a chance to prove yourselves worthy, to serve us in spreading the faith, or face death in the defeat that has been foretold by the prophet.”
As she spoke Anderson, his head still heavily bandaged, but no longer attached to the data core by the umbilical cord of the data cable, stood beside her dressed in a plain white suit.
“This freak show just keeps getting better and better what now?” demanded Marshall Indra.
“Why dear lady you die, as do your colleagues.” said Anderson calmly as, with a blink of an eye, he transferred the virus to the fleet and took control of their ships. Sealing off the bridges of all three flagships and sucking the oxygen out of them.
“Your leaders are dead. They have been judged and found wanting. We control every ship in your fleets, you will submit to me and find salvation in the service of the Brethren or die.” her voice boomed across the fleet as she spoke, her hair glowing brilliant red before subsiding back to its usual colour once more. She turned to Anderson. “Decompress any ships that show the slightest sign of resistance and vent their crews into space. We have so many converts to choose from I want only the best.”
Anderson smiled and nodded, seven ships later he had them eating out of his hands. “All resistance has ended. They are queuing up to pay the initiates fees and pledge their tithes to the faith. Anyone who refuses is being executed by their own crew.”
The High Priestess took his hand and squeezed it. “You were every impressive, I think it was that way you handled that cruiser, the...”
“Hawk” added Anderson helpfully.
“Yes the Hawk, spacing the entire crew because five refused to convert. It really helped to focus their minds.”
He squeezed her hand back. “Like you said you only want the best and besides I can control the entire fleet single handily with the virus if I choose to.” he looked deep into her eyes and whispered quietly. “Thane isn’t the only one with a failsafe you know.” then gestured to the stakeholder’s avatars sitting patiently behind them. “I believe it’s time to address the faithful?”
She released his hand, whispering as she turned to face the stakeholder’s “We will speak more of this later.”
Then stepped forward to addresses them throwing her hands up into the air, allowing the cloak to slip back on to her shoulders, revealing the finely tanned smooth golden skin of her arms. The late afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows caught the luxuriant gold embroidery that edged the robe, creating the illusion that she was surrounded by a halo of golden fire. She allowed her robe to slip open revealing the simple, pure white, dress beneath. Secured at the waist with a rich, ornate, golden belt. A dazing white angle surrounded by a golden aura. Then the sun slipped silently behind a cloud and she was human again.
She lowered her hands and bowed gracefully to them before speaking. “My friends, my dear, faithful friends. Today, you have been privileged to witness a proud day, an historic day, all made possible by your generosity. No mere initiates fees and petty tithes for you, you have progressed to higher levels of spiritual awareness. Malstrom is no more, but it lives on in the service of the Brethren. The conversion you have so graciously paved the way for today, eliminates the threat posed by the Vesperon, Haldyne, and Zodan Corporations. Paper tigers, stripped of their power, they will crumble into chaos. We will bring order in its place for the faithful and judgement for those who are found wanting. Now it is time to share our good news with the people of Malshenko” she nodded in Andersons direction and he took control of the planets telecommunications and weather satellites, so she could address the entire planet.