Among Bright Stars... (31 page)

Odin blinked, throughout its history,
Buckingham Palace on occasion would be breached. Perils of its
urbanized location. The current Monarch once even awoke to find an
ardent female admirer perched on the end of his bed. Luckily Odin
managed to hold her at bay with his magnetic charm until his guards
arrived to escort the woman away.

“Frederika?” Odin wondered, stunned to see
the leather-clad woman who sloshed water into his foyer and waited
there imperiously. Clearly she'd just entered from out of the
storm, her honey-blonde hair wet, plastered against her back and
onto her black leather form fitting outfit. It had to be Frederika,
his 'cousin' from whom out of his, variant molecular construct a
had been built. However she no longer appeared to be a Falcanian.
“Where are your wings?”

Wings? Jennifer pondered, and made the
realization Frederika must be her duplicate, and triad-sister. The
one who had been remade into a Falcanian. “No, I'm not who you
think I am my King.” She grinned. “As you likely guessed by now,
I'm a Morningstar. I've come a very long way to see you. We must
work,” she sighed. “For the future of all Morningstars, and for
mankind itself. I am Guinevere of Cameliard, Queen consort to
Arthur, Once and Future-King.”

[TFV-1 Kiral Kra. Unexplored Space. August
1, 2033]

“Watcher, lights.” Sitara called out, sat up
and gasped. The cabin slowly illuminated. Krürashi, her Morningstar
cat stirred, sharply alert. What had been a dim silhouette over in
a corner, became that of a familiar, though, not quite as she
remembered her to be, luminous personage. “Kheira? How did you get
on my ship?” It had to be a hallucination. Kulcarin's rape of her.
Nightmares troubled Sitara for weeks in its aftermath, weird
dreams. She still had them. Probably always would. Surely, this
vision of her younger sister, now as a majestically adult Falcanian
woman, hair arranged sophisticated atop her head, jewels festooned
into it, and gowned in an elaborate bell sleeve fiery outfit, must
be nothing more than a delusion.

“Yes, well...” Kheira contemplated. “It would
seem that my none-linear, temporal incursion into space-time
preexists my own apotheosis.” The thought made her giggle. “Which
resolves in a kind of sense, or otherwise, the whole damnable house
of cards might come crashing down – Though, it also explains the
need for God.” That last bit, almost flippant.

Sitara shook her head, sure this must be a
hallucination. “Ah, since you're here,” she said removing herself
from her very comfortable nest. “Welcome aboard
TFV-1 Kiral
Kra
.” Sitara pulled on a robe, not yet convinced this really
was her sister. A weird oppressive atmosphere tickled Sitara's
mind, and she considered calling for her bodyguard.

Could be an alien encounter, just assuming
Kheira's form.

“No,” Kheira stated, as if she could see what
Sitara thought. “I am Kheira – Though, not that young girl you left
back on Earth, who stumbled to learn what it meant to be 'The
Vralis', or about the substance of what she is. Or... Who could be
a quite a brat.”
Never mind Fafni
r, she thought.
Grandfather's destiny shall attend to itself.
And then
implored. “Sitara – Trust me!”

Hallucination or not, this sure sounded like
Kheira. “What's that?”

Kheira lifted the object that she held in her
right hand up in a nonchalant movement. It appeared to be a sword
hilt, minus a blade. Sitara thought it must be a vajra. The hilt,
aged metal had taken on a greenish patina. A red jewel mounted at
its center, and its leather covered handgrip narrowed into a simple
ovular pommel. Oblong rounds completed the vajra's quillons.
Decidedly, not Falcanian in design. “Oh this,” she elfishly
grinned, and lifted the weapon in a flourish. “It’s Caliburn... “ A
sideways glance. “Err – Excalibur.”

Sitara blinked, doubtful.

“No really, this is King Arthur's sword. Or
it will be.”

“Right.” Once more Sitara thought she must be
suffering a delusion. Quipped sardonically. “And you're Lady of the
Lake.”

“Actually...” Kheira started.

“Whatever.” Sitara wasn't in the mood for her
little sister's games.

“I'm sorry,” Kheira reached out, touched her
sister's abdomen, where the slightest hint of an egg bump could be
discerned. “Kulcarin, and his Skatha, they have a greater role to
play in the grand design.” The Vralis sighed. “You could have
brought a case for termination before the Valküri Coda,” bit her
lip in consideration. “You'd need prove this pregnancy wouldn't
ultimately result in a person, that in the long run it would be
detrimental to the child to be born, and there also existed
imminent danger to your own life in order for this egg to be
destroyed --”

“I don't want to talk about it...” Yet Sitara
nonetheless said. “This child does not bear the sins of its father.
It... My child is as much a victim, an innocent in what Kulcarin
did to me as I am. To think otherwise would be grotesque.”

“Sitara, look,” Kheira moved on. “I know we
haven't always had the best relationship.”

The Captain of
TFV-1 Kiral Kra
nodded.
“Not really, but I love you anyway.”

That admission from Sitara almost made Kheira
cry. “You were always father's favorite daughter.” Sitara began to
deny it, Kheira hushed her. “Yes you were,” she insisted. “And if
it weren't for Nadia giving him a son, you'd one day be Queen,
better yet, empress.” Thought,
An empress shall rise, and she
will give them apotheosis.
“You were after all,
heiress-presumptive to the Claw-Throne.” The Vralis could sense
they neared the destination where Sitara would make history. “I
came here because you are about to embark on something important.
It shall change the universe.”

For a hallucination, Kheira was being very
magisterial. “Such as?”

“Don't you feel it? We're getting
closer.”

Indeed, Sitara could feel the moment
TFV-1
Kiral Kra
warped out of spacefold, begin to slow in its forward
movement. Something... A whisper into Sitara's ear, that spoke in
her father's voice, yet heightened, distorted.
“Welcome,”
grumbled the low antediluvian voice, as if
woken from an endless slumber.
“I've waited eons for
you.”

“What is it Kheira?”

“An ancient power,” Kheira smiled, touched
once more where Sitara's baby grew, and held her sister's violet
eyes for a prolonged, breathless portentous moment. “Use the
knowledge that it shares toward a greater good.”

The proximity alarm blared.

“Captain to the bridge!”

Suddenly, Kheira wasn't there...

“Princess,” second-in-command Naraton
Tariksar urgently reported as Sitara strode onto her round bridge,
looking rather overwhelmed, and careworn. “There seems to be a
force pulling us into this nebula.” He motioned at the orange
cluster of gaseous stuff outside the forward window. “We did not
intend to stop here.
TFV-1 Kiral Kra
warped out all on her
own.” Noticing the dazed expression on Sitara's face, Naraton
asked. “Princess, are you OK?”

“Fine, such as I am.”

Surreptitiously, Naraton glanced at Sitara's
egg bump. So far, Sitara hadn't wanted to talk about it.
Might
not even be Kulcarin Aranskrai's child,
he thought. The
implication staggered him. Not caring for where the notion lead.
Naraton guessed that Sitara would open up, when she was ready. For
the moment, this unknown force that had taken hold of the
TFV-1
Kiral Kra
must be Naraton's immediate concern. So he asked.
“What are your orders?”

“Let it take us, wherever it wills.”

“Princess Sitara is that – “

“Trust me Naraton!” Sitara forced a smile. “I
want to talk to the crew.”

Naraton Tariksar hit a switch, and the ship
wide intercom belled.

“This is the Captain --” The
TFV-1 Kiral
Kra
coasted ahead, broke at last into the center of the burnt
orange nebula, kindled by a tiny albescent sun. A midsize,
luxuriant planet orbited the white star. Sitara took a moment,
mid-speech so that she could glance over her shoulder at the new
planet. Thought it quite beautiful. The presence touched her mind,
felt stronger. It – Whatever it was, must be down there on the
planet. Clearing her throat, intent to focus on her new task,
Sitara continued. “We Falcanians have a problem. There are too few
of us, and we reside in all but two places on our home planet of
Earth – Where many enemies seek to destroy us.”

Naraton Tariksar had begun to put together
the substance of what Sitara intended. He knew her that well. Had
this been sanctioned by the Shotar? That didn't seem to be the
case, or surely he would have been briefed on it. Though, all that
planetary excursion equipment they'd hauled up in
TFV-1 Kiral
Kra
cargo bay, now made sense.

“We...” Sitara went on. “We need an
Anchorage, here at this – Junction point. This place shall become
the first Falcanian colony out beyond the stars. A jumping off
point for Falcanians to reach outward into the universe.” No tall
order that. “Given we are but a tiny crew, we shall seek out
allies, lay the rails for our brethren back home for when they also
are called to reach out beyond Earth. I know what I am about to ask
you will be difficult.” For her most of all. “But we must keep this
planet, rich in resources secret.” How did she know that? The
slumbering entity of course. “Otherwise, those who wish to exploit
our species will come here.” The plan took form as a brilliant, if
overambitious idea. “We have work to do!” Sitara concluded,
overcome, pregnancy complications, the Princess nearly collapsed
beside her operations table.

“You're not alright. Let me get the
doctor.”

“No Naraton.” Sitara inhaled, pushed the
vocator roughly into her second-in-command's grasp. This baby felt
strong. She shouldn't be able to feel it now, not like this anyway.
For a moment Sitara worried it might be a monstrosity. Yet stronger
maternal concerns took over.
Kulcarin won't have him,
she
thought. “I'm going to, in these coming days ask a great deal of
you Naraton.”

“What else is new.” He practically laughed.
Good as time as any, Naraton encouraged. “Care to talk about your
baby? Should I be worried you've decamped off into the galaxy's
hinterlands, with what I presume to be Colonel Kulcarin Aranskrai's
hatchling flourishing inside your womb?” He turned very serious,
knowledgeable that there would be one Falcanian man he did not need
as an enemy. “I really don't want to find myself on the wrong side
of a ravenous Skatha.”

“Not just yet,” Sitara managed a grin,
thought about telling Naraton of Kheira. But then Naraton truly
would think her insane. She herself maintained the opinion that the
encounter between Kheira, and herself must have been an apparition.
A hallucination brought on by this... Peculiar gestation period. No
realistic reason to think different. “There are things a ninth
Tariksar son can get away with, that a Drakonis princess dare not
be seen doing.” Indeed, actions her name couldn't afford to be
attached to. “That is, if we are to construct it half-way
competently...”

“Construct what?” Naraton asked
dumfounded.

Rather than clarify. “Launch probes,” Sitara
motioned at her science officer. “Begin a planetary survey. Tell me
what's down there.” And then to Naraton Tariksar. “Jagirdar,” she
honored him with a new, noble title, so as to inaugurate her
civilian, yet feudalistic operation. “Have the galley send food,
lots of it to my cabin.”

“As you like my Princess.”

Later in her cabin, a variety of foodstuffs
placed on her desk, most of it almost consumed, Sitara pulled out
her electronic drafting tablet. She began to sketch on it with her
stylus. Hours passed, reports came in from the bridge. Sitara soon
ordered a landing party to get an up-close, and personal view of
the world currently designated 1128-9Y. Day passed into a long
night. Finally, she completed her design. The math, and the
expenditure! Both factors kept making her pull back from some
outrageous, almost impossible to construct in cold space, though
nice to look at arrangements. Yet, what she ended with, counter
rotating cylinders joined together, held a rugged appeal. “Cheap,
but effective.” Sitara admired her work. “Best to use tested
technology, when solid resources are going to be difficult to come
by out on this frontier.” Overtaken by her moment of creative
genius, Sitara realized her ability at mathematics, a trait she'd
inherited from her mother, made her a fabulous shipwright. Not that
this could exactly be considered a ship. Yet the artistry, which
Sitara knew came from her father, caused her blueprints to
transcend crude functionality. Those qualities combined, let her
design both the FS-9 Raptors, FX-24 battleships, and now this!
“We'll have to cut corners,” too bad that. If she had full backing
of the Khanate it would be a more majestic piece of artistry. So
far there were few others like it in the known universe. This
particular one, meant to be a gargantuan among even those. “Given
the insurgent manner we're putting it together, I don't think it
will be half-bad.”

This listing is a compilation, though not
exhaustive, of
known and active
IL-Series Morningstars,
included beside model numbers. These records were downloaded from
the Lucifer Watchtower database by Odin Battenberg and his 'Star
Chaser' army, upon taking ownership of GenKon Inc.'s secret
facility following the Morningstar Exodus out of Terra, Sol
III.

*
Arranged by model
number.

IL-Series

Nadia Korelia: #0001 (IRAD unaccounted
for.)