SYSTEM LORDS
Brett P. S.
Copyright © 2015 Brett P. S.
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 – Imminent Judgment
Chapter 2 – Exiled Planet
Chapter 3 – Shattered World
Chapter 4 – On Instinct
Chapter 1
Imminent Judgment
The Visaari traveled to Calisto from a faraway star in a distant corner of the Milky Way to gather data on a peculiar post-apocalyptic planet much closer to this system’s Sun. At’rif paced across the command deck of his vessel, crossing his slender arms over his narrow chest while he stared out into the depths of space. The view comprised the corner of Jupiter, with a patch of dark space and a tiny sun barely visible to his ebony eyes. This system lacked the lights of his home, a disheartening sight to eyes used to colonies and stations nearly as visible as stars in a myriad of colors.
“At’rif,” a voice spoke from behind him.
He turned around in time to see a gateway close behind a more slender Visaari who carried herself with an air of proper superiority. Her name was Fu’sona, and she served in this station’s council, a collection of beings whose authority outweighed his one hundred fold.
“What is it?” he replied. “Have they made their judgment yet?”
“You do not have to hide it from me, At’rif,” she said. “I know you care about them.”
At’rif pressed his hand to his lips.
“I cannot,” he said. “Let us keep up this charade for a while longer.”
“Very well,” Fu’sona said. “The council will vote in thirty microns.”
At’rif drew down his hand and grasped hers with both palms. He kneeled down and bowed his head in a custom of apology until she gestured for him to stand.
“Thank you for all the support you have shown me,” he said. “I am not worthy.”
Fu’sona pushed his hand away and breathed a deep sigh. She lifted her head and stared past him at the space view port near the far wall, walking past while her robes slid across the floor.
“I sent for evidence,” she said. “It should arrive in time to make your final case.”
“They have made their judgment, haven’t they?”
At’rif took a step toward her, but he stopped short of a full stride once he caught glimpse of her empty stare. Two ebony stones of eyes looked back at him and communicated to him more meaning than words she might have mustered.
Chapter 2
Exiled Planet
Refractor crystals lit up the council chamber, a dull looking orifice nestled deep inside this vessel. At’rif wasn’t impressed, through the gravity of the situation filled his center with a lingering emotion of dread. He stood straight up and stared at a row of nine empty seats soon to be filled with other Visaari cloaked in long black ceremonial robes. At’rif exhaled and shrugged his shoulders.
“I do not believe my eyes,” he said. “Late for their own judgment.”
“Careful with your words,” Fu’sona said, climbing up into her seat from a spot he didn’t see. “This council demands respect.”
“My apologies,” he replied.
Shortly after Fu’sona took her seat, the remaining council members climbed up into the elevated fixtures laid out in front of him. Besides her, there were four other members, to break a tie in any conceivable case. At’rif already had her vote, so the most he needed to persuade was two. Just two to postpone this planet’s judgment.
“Very well,” one Visaari said. “As I see no new evidence has been brought to light, I motion to vote now.”
“But At’rif has new evidence,” Fu’sona said. “Do you not?”
At’rif looked at Fu’sona with a perplexed expression. He stared into her wide eyes, searching for the meaning. She did say it was coming, but why wasn’t it here? At’rif rushed to retain his composure, straightening his torso while he stared up at the rest of the council.
“Yes,” he said. “I brought something, though I do not know if it will be of use.” He sighed. “Truthfully, I do not know what it will be.”
“You do not know?” one council member asked.
“During the previous cycle, I sent a collector to the exiled planet. To Earth. I have no idea what it will retrieve.”
“This is absurd,” he replied. “Sapient artifacts will not affect my decision.”
“Then my collector will have brought more than mere artifacts.”
“Choose your words carefully, At’rif,” another Visaari said. “I assume you broke no laws.”
“You should not assume anything, esteemed council elder.”
As if on cue, the primary entrance to the council chambers slid open, revealing a pair of silhouetted figures. A service droid hovered forward, tugging on a thick polymer rope. It buzzed and whirred as it sped along, though it was the second figure whose sight struck the words from his company. A sapient life form hobbled forward, clothed in the rags from her home world, a human from the exiled planet. She stared at him with white eyes and a blank stare characteristic of the neural inhibitor fitted around her neck.
Deep, angry, ebony eyes glared at him, forcing At’rif to shrink back and lose his perfect posture. Now he knew why she wouldn’t say what, only that it was coming. He would have refused. To extract a primitive sapient from her home world … it was unheard of. Definitely illegal, even within the loose constraints of Visaari law.
“Outrageous!” One council member stammered. “You will face consequences for this.”
“I accept no responsibility over the faulty intelligence of my collector drone,” At’rif replied.
“We will see,” Fu’sona said. “Afterwards, I will personally inspect your drone.”
“That is fair.”
“In the meantime,” Fu’sona continued, “We should speak in the earth tongue.”
“Why is that?” a Visaari asked.
Fu’sona raised her hand and pointed at the human.
“Because she is now a part of Earth’s judgment.”