Starblade (4 page)

Nadia looked up at Sharr and gave him a
grin. She leaned against his shoulder, fully aware as to why he'd
yet to speak about what clearly went through his mind while Lord
Vorskrai still stood with them.

“I shall take my leave, my Shotar,” the
Guilthari said as if he sensed that his presence no longer was
desired. “Maharani T’Kara.” Urksa added with a bow and left the
couple to their personal discussions.

Sharr motioned in the direction of Urksa.
“Sitara encourages such displays.”

“There's a reason,” Nadia reminded her mate.
“Valküri battle armor doesn't obstruct the female form – ”

“Because sexuality is a potent weapon.”
Sharr answered.

“Urksa Vorskrai desires only to add her to
his collection of wives. He knows to gain her as a mate will make
the offspring your heirs. That would be advantageous for the
Guilthari.” A slight frown suddenly touched Nadia's full lips. “We
should talk to her about mating. Sitara and Ariel are a year away
from their majority after all. Mating our daughters to the right
men could settle a multitude of loose ends.”

Sharr placed his arm around her bare waist.
“I agree.”

“Speaking of which, I’ve not seen Kulcarin
in a few days? Do you know of his location?” Nadia asked.

“He attends to an issue for me.” He did not
explain further about the whereabouts of young Kulcarin
Aranskrai.

“Leave it to me to be matchmaker.” Nadia
regarded her mate seriously. “In that respect, we shouldn’t be
remiss to think beyond Vorkrür’s shores for such prospects. There
are certain suitors worth our consideration not yet Falcanians.
Darius Noorani comes to mind. He would make a good ally. That is
the feudal way, by means of blood or steel. It is how Imperial
lines thrive.”

Sharr restrained a laugh, yet Nadia caught
the slight grin he attempted to hide.

“What?” Her kohl accented eyes became blue
slits.

The look on her face caused him to grin even
more. “It's just –”

“What?” Nadia leaned closer; her generous
breasts almost touched his chest.

Sharr Khan inhaled deeply, and savored the
sweet aroma of his mate. Her perfume seemed to be laced with
almonds and cinnamon scents. Nadia’s oil treated hair, conditioned
in a weekly regime passed down by her upper caste Bengali forebears
ensured that her rich dark locks would keep their beautiful sheen.
The jasmine smell of her hair reminded Sharr of the flowers which
grew around the Falcanian stronghold at Kuras, located near the
foot of the Himalayas. The fragrances always caused Sharr to go
weak and think only about things of pleasure when he breathed
Nadia's sweet aroma.

“My T'Kara,” he took her in his arms.

For a moment, Nadia cringed at her mate's
use of her Falcanian name. Not that she did not like it. T'Kara, a
beautiful word to be sure, yet also a literal translation of the
name which her father had bestowed upon her, carried with it an
intentional irony which Nadia's superstitious side shied away
from.

“You sounded so much like your mother.”
Sharr watched the hard expression on Nadia's face soften. “I
imagine Ambika Sen made a similar remark to Turhan Korelia
concerning our bonding. Your mother’s a weaver of fates.”

The Queen arched a brow. “So you’re saying
I’m just carrying on Maa's meddling?”

“Yeah,” Sharr laughed. “Something like that.
It is particularly interesting that you bring up Darius Noorani
given our Intel concerning who, and what he is, wedding him to one
of our twin daughters may prove beneficial for our Khanate.”

Sharr took Nadia into his arms. The couple
walked arm and arm around the deck of the C&C Tower to gaze out
of the grand window that overlooked the bay. Outside ships arrived
from India and Japan, bringing merchants to trade wares with the
Falcanians.

[North America: New York City]

A glistening mega-city glowed with
spotlights and flames which perpetually burned in great cauldrons
atop columns set as high as the greatest towers within the
metropolis forever served to be a beacon to all, this nation would
never again be destroyed. Many looked toward the monolithic city as
a sign of hope.

The capital of the North American Imperium
settled atop the ruins of Old New York. Romulus chose this place to
be his seat of power as a sign of defiance to the world that even
after the bombings and the ineptitude of the former Government,
what had once been the United States would again become a light of
progress for the world.

Bronzed armored centurions lined the steps
of the massive complex that stood opposite the Senate building
which served as JR Giovanni's palace. There could be little doubts
however that power rested with the Imperator and not the Senators
who bickered among themselves in the smaller building which stood
in its shadow. Dressed in royal purple, a golden olive crown rested
upon his gray brow, Julius Romulus Giovanni watched his ship enter
foldspace from the comfort of his plush eagle throne. He knew he
had done a good thing for his people. Expansion alone would ensure
his citizens safety and the journey into space had become necessary
to seek resources which would allow his Imperium to grow more
powerful.

Senators from the provinces stood with their
Imperator to watch the launch. Many held they should not have
allied themselves with the British in this project. It was a
sentiment born out of resentment from the actions of many Europeans
after the last war.

JR Giovanni, old as he had become, was still
a fierce figure. A crown of once black hair remained cut in its
sleek military style. Even with the disease which slithered inside
his bones and threatened to make him weak, he still continued to
inspire awe. U.S. Marine training let him survive the wastelands
and bring together the warring factions to form his new great
Imperium. A promise of glory he would keep at all costs.

The Imperator at last rose from his chair
and walked the room. Each of the twelve Senators watched him, a
calculating gleam in their eyes. All wondered who would take
Romulus's place when he died. He had no children of his own and
trusted only his Praetorian Guard. Surely his favorite among them
would take his place? Senator Viktor Paxton bowed. “Your
Excellency, the
DSV Excalibur
is indeed a fine vessel –”

“But you still think a captain from the
Imperium should be in command,” JR Giovanni finished. “The alliance
called for a Brit to be in authority over this vessel. We have
centurions aboard, and a security officer has been assigned to
overlook Captain Braden in this most perilous, but important
mission.”

“What may I ask, are their orders?” Senator
Paxton carefully inquired. The Imperium's Senate had been kept in
the dark about what the ship's inaugural mission would be. Now they
knew exploration was part of it, but they remained unaware of
Romulus's true intents for his space fleet.

“No, you may not.” Even the
DSV
Excalibur
's command crew knew nothing of the Imperator's
orders. Not until they reached the Imperium’s first deep space
outpost would they open the sealed commands to learn the true
objective of their voyage. Romulus glared at the old man. “For the
time being the mission is secret.”

The senator did not look pleased, yet he
accepted what his Imperator told him with all due respect. This man
had saved all that remained of a fallen America, and so Victor
Paxton figured he owed him that much gratitude at least.

“
DSV Excalibur
is a mighty ship,” a
voice echoed in the room. “It’s a perfect chariot to carry the
Enlightened to the stars.” Each of the senators cringed at the
metallic noise, which sounded as if it were modulated through a
synthesizer, or as if someone scratched nails on rusted steel.

Imperator Romulus for his part remained
oblivious to the sound, surprised that the owner of the grating
voice hadn't appeared sooner. “Welcome back, Styx.”

Styx's face remained hidden, concealed under
a golden bucket shaped helmet. No one ever saw his true face. Even
his eyes were obscured by a black rectangular shield that made it
impossible to know what Styx actually looked like or if he even
ever were human at all. The bishop clothed himself in a scarlet
robe from head to toe. On a heavy chain dangled a golden cross that
rested at his waist. He tucked his gloved hands away in the folds
of his sleeves. Styx deliberately turned his head to glance at each
of the senators. He grinned as he watched them cower, despite their
attempts to hide it. None were among his flock. All were sworn to
Romulus and his Legion. The Imperator would let him take the truth
to the stars. For that reason alone, he suffered the presence of
those not in the light. “Has the Falcanian Khan responded to your
summons?”

Imperator Romulus scowled. “Drakonis refuses
to meet with me.”

“The Falcanian are a threat to us.”

JR Giovanni was not certain if Styx meant
that the Falcanians were a threat to the Imperium or only to his
Budjah. If he knew the bishop, Romulus guessed Styx meant his
Budjah Order rather than to JR Giovanni's restored nation.

“They do not think we brought the Earth back
from the brink.” Whenever Styx spoke of this he seemed to faze out,
as if a program triggered, or he had a frayed wire. “The Falcanians
murdered an entire mission, they must be punished.”

“I agree with you. The Falcanian must be
dealt with and we're intending to do just that. I cannot however
risk sparking a conflict at this time.” The Imperator grinned.
“There are secrets I wish to learn from these Falcanian. Our
intelligence tells us they are building a fleet of foldships. We
wish to learn how far along they are and if they will be a hazard
to our own expansion.”

Politics. Styx was glad the helmet masked
his dismay. He always discovered his own plans to save the human
race hindered by the political and military agenda of his
Imperator. Had he the power, the bishop would reduce all of
Vanguard Island to ash. These Falcanian were unclean heathens not
worthy of the Light. They did not submit themselves to the Thirteen
Jahs. How could The One, the only true God permit them to
contaminate his creation? Thoughts of this stain caused Styx to
twitch under his bucket helmet.

[Japan: Yokohama Port November 12, 2030]

The dock was full of people boarding and
leaving ships. At the moment, Frederika gazed into the water, lost
in deep thought while she fingered the Thor's Hammer around her
neck which Oberon gave her before she had left for Japan and said
to her that it would bring good fortune. Oberon was not a man to
express such notions as luck, that he had done so for this
operation greatly disturbed her.

Other women soon joined Frederika on the
dock. Frederika noticed most of them were dark-haired and busty. A
few were Japanese, a mix of other Asians and noticeably a handful
of Eastern Europeans were among the exotic dancers destined to
entertain the Falcanian Khan.There were about twenty girls in all.
Only one other blonde aside from herself waited for the master of
the ship, the
Chrysanthemum Maru
, to allow them to board and
head for Vanguard Island. Frederika eyed the other woman
critically. The other blonde was much shorter than she, and not
nearly as built. Frederika would stand out she hoped and catch
Hawk's eye.

Frederika had already begun to fashion her
plan of seduction.

“You're new?”

The Morningstar girl turned, Frederika came
eye to eye with a lithe black haired woman about her age. The
girl's amber eyes were filled with a sense of adventure. Her
complexion a fair tan, and her features teasingly exotic. Frederika
guessed this girl to be a mix of European and Asian heritage. “I
am.” She was new to all this, though she surmised that this girl
had taken this trip at least once before.

“Mia Smrhova.” The girl and extended her
hand.

“Frederika Gotha.” Frederika smiled back and
took the offered hand. “So you've been to Vanguard Island
before?”

“This is my second time. The Shotar asked me
back.”

Before the two women could continue their
conversation, the ships' captain called them aboard. Although he
was an older Japanese man, he spoke clear English and instructed
them to hand over their paperwork as they walked up the gangplank.
After they boarded the ship, the dancer's luggage was taken to
their cabins and they were instructed to wait on the deck for the
Falcanian representative to introduce himself.

What caught Frederika's eye about the ship's
crew were the many Techno-Samurai which stood at attention along
the upper deck. The Shogun honored his friend with this display of
the personal vassals sent to guard the precious cargo on its trip
to Vanguard Island. All the samurai kept a hand on their long daito
blade hilts. These guards were enhanced with cybernetic implants
which sped up their reflexes and agility. In return, it made them
even more efficient killers. They could slice an opponent in half
with ease and in the blink of an eye.

While they waited for the Falcanian to
appear, Frederika struck up her conversation with Mia once again,
and hoped to glean more details about their hosts. “Mia, tell me
about these Falcanians.”

The black haired girl grinned. “They’re an
interesting people.”

“Is it true, do they have wings?”

“They... Are not like us.”

Frederika hid her irritation and pushed
forward. “Und what does that mean?”

“Genetic engineering has remade them into
creatures more than human. The Japanese term for Falcanians is
Arashitenshi,
stormangels
. Yes they have –”

“I am Ch'Kran, of the house of Trakan,”
boomed a baritone voice.

All heads turned as the owner stepped onto
deck. Concealed in a charcoal cloak the Falcanian walked before the
gathered females. He carried himself with an heir of superiority.
Slowly he turned to inspect his charges, the exotic dancers meant
for his Lord Drakonis's pleasure.