Prophecy of the Stars
Once inside the open air court yard, Bishop knew she was going to have issues with her potential classmates. The large courtyard had several trees with wrap around tables flanking the walls. The tables were full of future prospects. A number of the prospects weren't even in full or proper uniform. Bishop was most concerned with the number of ignorant future officers and the knowledge that they were staring at her, obviously threatened.
***
“I don't want to do this,” begged King, “I don't think I can.” Bishop sighed as she stared at the glossed, red eyes of King. She didn't like it either, but the bodies of their former squad had finally been returned. Their war-tags needed to be added to the Pillar of Honor. Bishop felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see the beautiful eyes of Charon, “It must be done.” Bishop nodded and scanned the faces of the shuttle. Princess Iris had come, guarded by Styx and Charon, as well as a Shock Trooper she had never met before: Solarix.
The door of the shuttle opened, leading to a tall building. The collection entered the building and encountered the Pillar: a giant collection of war-tags held together in the form of a revolving pillar that reached high to the ceiling. Bishop was stunned at the glittering collection, reflecting light in dozens of directions at once. A voice distracted her from her dazzled stare.
“Princess Iris,” an old Guntherian in long white robes spoke, “I didn't know to expect you. If I had know, we would have prepared an assembly for you.”
Princess Iris waved his concern away, “There was no need. This is not an official royal visit. I'm here to honor a squad.”
He nodded, turned, and commanded, “Cherub! I need a cherub!”
A young Guntherian descended from the ceiling with the assistance of a mag-pack: a personal device that allowed its user to float and move around in special rooms. The youth knelt and spoke reverently, “I bring honor to the fallen.”
The group assembled in a line and began. King handed the youth the tiny, metal tag and spoke, “Corporal Rider. A lover and a warrior.”
The boy bounced into the air as robotic voice began to speak, “ Rider. Shock Trooper. Campaigns include Grigon, Tilaros, and Ikos.” The cherub returned and knelt before Styx.
“Sergeant Knight,” she spoke to the youth. He bounced into the air again as the voice spoke, “Knight. Shock Trooper. Campaigns include Larx, Ikos, Tilaros, and Grigon.” The worker returned again.
“Sergeant Hudson,” spoke Princess Iris. The youth repeated his ritual as the computer spoke again, “Hudson. Shock Trooper. Campaigns include Grigon, Tilaros, and Ikos.” He returned again.
“Corporal Patterson,” spoke Charon. The ritual repeated and the voice spoke again. “Patterson. Shock Trooper. Campaigns include Larx, Ikos, Tilaros, and Grigon.”
Bishop studied the war-tag for a moment before handing it to the cherub. The thin metal was simple in function and form, simply worn to identify a body and only worn in battle armor. She stared at it, wondering if hers would be added to the pillar in the future. She sighed as she spoke, “Corporal Malloy.”
The youth bounced again as the computer continued, “Malloy. Shock Trooper. Campaigns include Sevas, Grigon, Tilaros, and Ikos.”
The group looked to their right and collectively studied the newcomer to their group: Solarix. The beautiful youth and recently joined the ranks of the Shock Troopers, but she had already gained combat stripes before her recent training.
“Master sergeant Watson. A warrior and a father,” she spoke as she handed the final war-tag to the cherub. The computer began to speak, “Watson. Shock Trooper. Rodes, Sevas, Ikos, Corban,” No one had realized how much Watson had fought until now. “Ghoulan, Tilaros.”
As the cherub did his final climb to the top of the pillar, the group saluted and spoke quietly in unison, “Never die with ammo.” Princess Iris silently watched them lower their salute, having been absent from their salute. The group broke away from their line and approached a tearful Solarix.
“Your father was a great man,” spoke King as she attempted to hold back tears, “He saved me more times than I can remember.” She embraced Solarix as they held their tears back together. Charon approached the duo and spoke quietly, “He didn't die with ammo.” She turned to Styx, nodded, and lead Princess Iris from the room.
After several long minutes, Bishop cleared her throat. King let go of Solarix as Bishop spoke, “It is time to go. We need to get back to Chantagri.” Bishop nodded as she began toward the door, leaving Solarix alone to grieve Watson.
***
After almost a complete-cycle of training, King and Bishop eventually completed their training. High Admiral Kai had them assigned to his flag ship Obion to serve as his tactical officers: Bishop as his fleet officer and King as his ground officer. Bishop quickly rose to the rank of Commander and famous for her insight for fleet operations during multiple Grigor offenses. King's record was equally impressive as she developed new ground offensive techniques, secretly based off of her training in the now defunct Lariot Program.
Bishop entered King's personal quarters to the surprise of the occupant. King quickly covered her arm with a pillow and asked, “What are you doing here Bishop? I'm off duty.” Bishop approached her friend and attempted to remove the pillow. “Are you still using the injections?”
King lowered her shallow eyes and stared at the floor, “It still hurts. I just can't forget.”
“You need to move on,” responded Bishop.
“How can I move on? And how can you say that?”
“If you don't let go, you'll never get better.”
“I don't want to get better!” shouted King. Bishop sat down at the small desk beside the bed and placed her head in her hand. “I want him back,” sobbed King. “Every time I skip a dose, I relive that horrible night. I can't move on like you can. I don't have Charon.” Her words hurt Bishop to the core. She had indeed moved on from Gunthix, but Charon's fanatical call for duty had ripped her out of Bishop's life. “And to make it worse,” King continued, “Is the fact that I have the worst feeling that we are going to die when we attack the Federation. I feel like they died for the wrong reason.”
Bishop agreed completely. If the Empire didn't defeat the Federation in a single battle, the war would be long and brutal. High Admiral Kai had secretly commissioned her to perform tactical simulations for the attack, and every outcome from a long, lasting battle ended the same way: the fleet crippled and a counter-attack the defense forces wouldn't handle. She began to wonder if it was even possible for them to survive or what it would take to change the empress's decision. A sudden daunting thought occurred to Bishop. “King,” she whispered quietly, “I think it is time we did something drastic.”
XII
The damaged cruiser Unicorn, missing its entire starboard wing, slowly approached the battleship. “Commander, the battleship Iron Pyre is requesting a linked communications channel.”
The commander nodded to the soldier showing her approval. An image appeared of a squat major on a screen in the bridge. “Cruiser Unicorn, I am Major Tork of the battleship Iron Pyre. We have received your authorization codes and are waiting for them to clear.”
The commander stood up and responded, “Major, I am Commander Bishop. We are a long range patrol craft and do not have sufficient shuttles to offload efficiently. I request that we utilize some of your shuttles.”
The major looked off screen for a moment and then responded, “We are having trouble accessing your codes. This problem, and your lack of shuttles, is forcing us to decline your access to Exile.”
Commander Bishop responded quickly, “We have been on patrol and are waiting to go back to home space. High Admiral Kai had us selected personally. We are still removing pieces of Grigor spacecraft out of our hull. If our lack of up-to-date codes is a problem, we will notify him on our way back to home space while they run low of supplies here.”
The major looked off screen again and then sighed, “We will send shuttles and allow
you to offload while we cross reference your codes. I will be coming aboard.”
Commander Bishop smiled and responded, “You are welcome aboard.”
The screen shut off and a lieutenant approached Commander Bishop. She had a glossed look to her eyes and a slow, but deliberate, look about her. “This better work, Bishop.”
Bishop motioned for the door and they began walking to the hanger. “It will work. We’ve been planning this for a full-cycle and we finally sneaked off enough men and this cruiser. It has to work, King.”
Several shuttles were just landing as they entered the hanger. The major exited the first shuttle and approached the duo. Bishop saluted and then spoke first, “Major, this is Lieutenant King. She will be overseeing the offload on the surface.” He concurred and watched as King approached the lone lancer in the hanger. “Major, I think it would be appropriate if we were to make our way to the bridge. The hanger is no place for officers.”
The major agreed and followed her lead. “I noticed your hanger was very light of aircraft.”
Bishop nodded, “Yes. We’ve just come from the Grigor campaign. We were set for home space for repairs and refits when we were given these orders.”
She led the way onto the bridge and watched as the shuttles left. “I must apologize as our lateral boosters are damaged and we have to constantly readjust. Control, correct our vector so we aren’t facing the Iron Pyre.”
The soldier nodded and adjusted a few controls. The major was busy studying other aspects of the ship, obviously have never been on a cruiser before. His personal com-link beeped and a voice was heard, “Major, we are reading a core charging up on the Unicorn.”
He sighed and answered, “Everything is fine. They are readjusting their vector.” An affirmative was heard throughout the bridge by the small com-link on his wrist. He studied a console on the rear wall of the bridge and asked, “Commander, how long have you been in command of this cruiser?”
“About two long-cycles.” The major turned and discovered he was staring down the barrel of a pistol.
“What are you ---?” He was cut off by a gunshot that split his skull in two. A large explosion sounded as the cruiser’s cannon fired at the Iron Pyre, splitting it in half at close range. “Biggs, prepare our next shot at the designated building.” The lieutenant began adjusting controls as the frantic calls for help sounded through the radio. Bishop approached the communication console and spoke, “King, everything is going good up here. How long until you are on target?”
King responded calmly, “We just broke through the atmosphere. Fire when you are ready.”
***
Gunthix lay in total darkness. His entire body was numb and he didn’t know how long it had been since he had slept. He focused his breathing as well as he could and attempted to meditate. A powerful electric shock surged through the floor and shocked him again for the uncountable time. He heard a voice from the corner and looked. Scientist Cylos was standing in a corner and smiling. He forced himself to stand and then fell to her, attempting to hug her and fell through her, understanding he was hallucinating again.
A large explosion jarred him into the corner. For the first time in long time, he thought he saw light. It wasn’t beautiful, golden light; it was hot and harsh. The whine of an engine sounded and a lancer leveled off outside. He stared at it, unsure of what it was. The side door lowered and King emerged. She waved to him and yelled, “Gunthix! We are here to rescue you.” He stood up and walked to the edge as he called on every ounce of his strength and jumped for the craft.
He fell short and plummeted toward the desert. The ground filled his vision and he prepared for his death, understanding what he saw was his version of a tunnel and the ground was his white light. Suddenly, he didn’t feel like he was falling. He turned his head and saw King holding onto him, “I got you. Pilot, get us the hell out of here.” She touched a button on her belt and the rope began pulling them up.
Once inside the lancer, a medic began checking on Gunthix. “He is really fucked up,” the medic said to King, “We need to get him to medical on the Unicorn.”
King nodded and sat down. She pressed her com-link and spoke, “Bishop, we’re done on our end. We’ll be on board in two mikes.” She studied Gunthix carefully. He was pale and very thin, with lash marks on his back that appeared to be recent. The medic was correct in his assessment.
Once they were on the Unicorn, they were met by a medical officer and Bishop. She got one look at Gunthix and her eyes began to swell. King eyed her and spoke, “We need to get out of Guntherian space as soon as we can.”
Bishop agreed and added, “We have another four hours before they are due for a radio check. That gives us the head start we need.”
Bishop walked to the medical bay after issuing the order out of the system. Medical officers were busy cleaning his wounds and administering the anti-viral in order to get him clean. One of the officers approached her, “We’ve sedated him. It’ll be two cycles before we’ll even consider waking him up. Conservative estimates say it’ll be a long-cycle before he is back to normal.”
Bishop sighed and then asked, “What about the extreme?”
He studied the chart for a moment and then spoke, “Honestly, I don’t think he will recover. The stuff they pumped him full of wasn’t meant to be cured.”
***
Gunthix was a warrior. Bishop stayed by his side constantly. After the third night cycle, she woke up to him sitting up in bed. She dried her tears and kissed him. “Where are we headed?” he asked dryly.
She took a moment to collect herself and remembered, “We are heading for a relatively unknown piece of space that neither the Empire nor Galactic Federation claim.”
He cleared his throat and spoke, “Take me to the Hephaestus.”
XIII
They eventually shifted their course after several discussions. No one was absolutely sure of his plan. King thought he didn’t even have a plan. The cruiser would take two long-cycles to get there by avoiding the known patrols. Gunthix was ready by the end of the seventh cycle to the surprise of everyone but Bishop. Everyone that had any personal feelings stood around on the bridge as King started with the questions and the plan.
“First and foremost, this is suicide,” announced King. A few chuckles sounded from those that had less to lose. “What is your plan, Gunthix? Destroy the Hephaestus or hide there?” Gunthix stepped toward the holographic star map, pressed a few controls, and the image changed to the Guntherian home space. Everyone stared at the six planets as they always had and focused their attention on the fourth planet and its two moons: their home. “We won’t dock with the station,” he placed a marker on the dot near the edge of the system. “This cruiser will launch a shuttle from here and wait.” A thin line appeared that traced from the dot to the location of the Hephaestus, in the exact orbit of the fifth planet as it orbited across the system from it. “The shuttle will have explosives. I will detonate the explosives and you will escape among the radio traffic and radar contacts trying to rescue those fleeing.”
“Wait,” cut in Bishop, “you want us to leave you? We just rescued you.” Gunthix nodded and looked around the room. He studied the faces of the men and women who gave away everything to rescue him.
He closed his eyes and spoke coldly, “Why?”
King rushed him and held him by his shoulders, “Why do you think we rescued you?”
“What were you planning? An insurrection?” he responded calmly.
“Not exactly.”
“What then?”
“We were planning to stop their initial attack enough to force them to reconsider the attack.”
“With one damaged cruiser, one lancer, and no attack craft?”
“We have you. What else do we need?”
He ignored her and examined Bishop, who’s eyes were brimming with tears. She began to speak, but stopped herself as she understood that the tears were too much for he
r to speak. “Where were you planning to run before I had you turn us about?” he asked quietly.
King approached the star map, pressed a few buttons, and the image changed. “Omicron Theta,” she said as she pointed to a small cluster of planets. “It is a trading post. They claim strict neutrality and experience a lot of pirate commerce.”
Gunthix nodded, “I will meet you there.” A few nods and words of agreement echoed through the room at his words.
“When?” asked Bishop.
Gunthix sighed and thought for his moment. No one knew his plan or intentions. He calculated his chances and the possibilities of impossible tasks. “Wait as long as you are willing. If I’m not back by that time, then I am dead.”
***
Gunthix spent the rest of the travel meditating and avoiding anyone he could. Others found him occasionally and expressed feelings of good luck and thanking him for his stand against evil. Bishop contended with her thoughts as well as she could manage. He never mentioned his plan or anything that he would need other than a shuttle and explosives. The cruiser didn’t have his normal compliment of weapons or armor, but they did their best to meet his unheard of needs as they met him in the hanger.
King and Bishop led the group into the hanger. Gunthix was staring through the shield at the stars. “We have already outfitted this shuttle,” spoke King, “and in this crate is what armor and weapons we have on board.”
Gunthix turned and approached the crate. He studied its contents carefully. “I will only need this,” he picked up a rifle as he spoke, “and a few magazines.”
King glared at him and studied his flight suit, “I’m guessing you won’t even bother with armor.” He nodded in agreement, picked up several magazines, and turned to walk to the shuttle. Bishop rushed to his side in attempt to stop him.
Gunthix stepped inside the shuttle and turned. Bishop shut off the rest of the world in preparation for him to speak. She imagined that he would pronounce his love for her or even beg her to come with him. Instead, he closed the door to the shuttle. Tears streamed down her face as the autonomous voice of the hanger warned her to stand clear as the shuttle’s engines flickered to life and raised the craft. She resigned herself to her fate as she turned to exit the hanger as Gunthix left the cruiser on his near-absolute suicide. Bishop rushed to the control room to watch his progress. The star map followed the tiny dot as it raced across the system.