Teetering on the brink of extinction, the delepathig race flees their dying world and heads out among the stars in search for a new home. Disasters, catastrophes, and countless issues plague them along their journey and even more lives are lost. The people unite under their inspiring leadership and pull through long enough to find a suitable planet. The only problem remaining: the blue, lush world is already inhabited... (Photo by Vjeran Lisjak) |
Chapter One
Ilofrud Byd
Imperator Arash’s world was dying, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Standing atop the Tower of Medita, Arash pondered the numerous issues that threatened to bring a swift demise to his people. His large, wide eyes scanned the horizon.
“It’s all coming to an end, isn’t it?” a familiar voice spoke within Arash’s head.
Arash turned to look back at his most loyal guard… and friend. Like all warriors, Besnik’s blue skin was completely hidden by his indigo body armor.
“Yes it is, Besnik. We have come too far, caused too much damage to undo. Our world is dying, and all our advanced technology isn’t going to prevent it.”
Besnik looked out over the decaying city. It wasn’t so hard for him to believe that it was all going to come to an end soon. Some of the buildings had already been damaged by the quakes. His vivid imagination could clearly see the tall, metal buildings toppling over, fireballs shooting up from the power stations, cracks ripping the ground apart and dropping buildings and people into deep chasms.
“Is there nothing we can do to save our people?” Besnik asked.
Arash’s mind-voice went from sorrow to anger as he replied. “Our technology cannot save the planet, but it can save our people if we all work together.”
“But instead of working together, our two nations tear at each other’s throats, threatening to end it all early.”
“Precisely, Besnik.” Arash angrily slammed a blue hand on the railing, bruising his four fingers. “If only my ancestors had not become so complacent! Perhaps they could have held onto power, and then the royal family would be in charge today, rather than those inept fools in the Convocation.”
“As your friend and servant, might I suggest that instead of ranting, you should act to achieve your goals.”
“What are you saying, Besnik?” Arash asked, very aware of what Besnik was saying and what it meant. He asked though, because he was conflicted. A part of him wanted to berate Besnik for suggesting such a diabolic act. However, another part of him knew that Besnik was likely right.
“If you want the royal family to have power once more, you must take it,” Besnik explained bluntly.
Arash’s large eyes turned back to the city. They focused on the Potestatem – the building that housed the Convocation (the nation’s leading governmental body) and the Legion – the source of all his problems. “Take back our power?” Arash mused, disturbed but intrigued. “Rise up against the Convocation and seize control. The idea is unthinkable. It would be treason of the highest penalty.”
“And what would the punishment be for us?” Besnik asked. “A trial? An execution? Our world is set to be executed soon enough. Besides, with the way our government works, the world will likely come to an end before any trial is concluded.”
Arash chuckled. Even though they might have as many as five orbits (the time it takes for their planet to circle the sun and black hole binary) before their planet shattered, Besnik was right. “You are correct, Besnik. If we want to save our people, we must act. They can heap no punishment on us greater than our own failure and the death of everything we know.”
Arash felt a wave of steel-edged satisfaction from Besnik.
“Now there is only one question remaining. How do you intend to regain your family’s power?”
Arash examined the heavens. Through the twilight, they could see the twinkling of the first stars. “Somewhere up there, amidst the stars, is the key to our salvation and damnation… the Ilofrud Byd station.”
Besnik’s telepathic aura of satisfaction was quickly replaced by one of dread. (Among the delepathig people, it was difficult to hide feelings from others. This resulted in a sphere in which one’s emotions could be felt telepathically.)
“It is the only way, Besnik,” Arash was quick to assure him. “Any other method will reach fruition too late to matter.”
“I understand, my imperator. What do you need from me?”
Arash replied, “We need men; warriors that have proven their loyalty and valor. Can you get enough within three cycles?” (a cycle being the time from sunset to sunset).
Besnik glanced at the large red sun that sat low over the distant horizon; the current cycle was nearly over. “I know many warriors that we can trust. I shall begin contacting them at once. Should I schedule an imperator inspection of Ilofrud Byd in three cycles?”
“Gather your warriors, but make no mention of Ilofrud Byd to anyone. If someone realizes that I am gathering troops, they must have no hint or suspicion that Ilofrud Byd is the target.”
“A surprise inspection then?” Besnik asked.
“Precisely.”
Without another word, Besnik disappeared into the tower and began his preparations. Arash turned his steely gaze upon the Potestatem. You have forced my actions, he thought to himself (it was possible for a delepathig to hide his thoughts from any he desired), now I will do as I must to save our people from your maladroit governing.
Arash returned to his office and went to the wooden wall behind his desk. Anger rising, he tore the banner of his nation from the wall – a banner he had once hung with pride. The banner was ignored as Arash stepped on it and began scratching symbols into the wall. In the center he traced the ancient symbol for the delepathig people. To either side he scratched the numeric symbol for ‘one million’ eight times – eight million of Arash’s people living on a dying world, waiting for the end.
He would save them all, no matter what it took.
͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ Ѿ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏
Ilofrud Byd
Imperator Arash’s world was dying, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Standing atop the Tower of Medita, Arash pondered the numerous issues that threatened to bring a swift demise to his people. His large, wide eyes scanned the horizon.
“It’s all coming to an end, isn’t it?” a familiar voice spoke within Arash’s head.
Arash turned to look back at his most loyal guard… and friend. Like all warriors, Besnik’s blue skin was completely hidden by his indigo body armor.
“Yes it is, Besnik. We have come too far, caused too much damage to undo. Our world is dying, and all our advanced technology isn’t going to prevent it.”
Besnik looked out over the decaying city. It wasn’t so hard for him to believe that it was all going to come to an end soon. Some of the buildings had already been damaged by the quakes. His vivid imagination could clearly see the tall, metal buildings toppling over, fireballs shooting up from the power stations, cracks ripping the ground apart and dropping buildings and people into deep chasms.
“Is there nothing we can do to save our people?” Besnik asked.
Arash’s mind-voice went from sorrow to anger as he replied. “Our technology cannot save the planet, but it can save our people if we all work together.”
“But instead of working together, our two nations tear at each other’s throats, threatening to end it all early.”
“Precisely, Besnik.” Arash angrily slammed a blue hand on the railing, bruising his four fingers. “If only my ancestors had not become so complacent! Perhaps they could have held onto power, and then the royal family would be in charge today, rather than those inept fools in the Convocation.”
“As your friend and servant, might I suggest that instead of ranting, you should act to achieve your goals.”
“What are you saying, Besnik?” Arash asked, very aware of what Besnik was saying and what it meant. He asked though, because he was conflicted. A part of him wanted to berate Besnik for suggesting such a diabolic act. However, another part of him knew that Besnik was likely right.
“If you want the royal family to have power once more, you must take it,” Besnik explained bluntly.
Arash’s large eyes turned back to the city. They focused on the Potestatem – the building that housed the Convocation (the nation’s leading governmental body) and the Legion – the source of all his problems. “Take back our power?” Arash mused, disturbed but intrigued. “Rise up against the Convocation and seize control. The idea is unthinkable. It would be treason of the highest penalty.”
“And what would the punishment be for us?” Besnik asked. “A trial? An execution? Our world is set to be executed soon enough. Besides, with the way our government works, the world will likely come to an end before any trial is concluded.”
Arash chuckled. Even though they might have as many as five orbits (the time it takes for their planet to circle the sun and black hole binary) before their planet shattered, Besnik was right. “You are correct, Besnik. If we want to save our people, we must act. They can heap no punishment on us greater than our own failure and the death of everything we know.”
Arash felt a wave of steel-edged satisfaction from Besnik.
“Now there is only one question remaining. How do you intend to regain your family’s power?”
Arash examined the heavens. Through the twilight, they could see the twinkling of the first stars. “Somewhere up there, amidst the stars, is the key to our salvation and damnation… the Ilofrud Byd station.”
Besnik’s telepathic aura of satisfaction was quickly replaced by one of dread. (Among the delepathig people, it was difficult to hide feelings from others. This resulted in a sphere in which one’s emotions could be felt telepathically.)
“It is the only way, Besnik,” Arash was quick to assure him. “Any other method will reach fruition too late to matter.”
“I understand, my imperator. What do you need from me?”
Arash replied, “We need men; warriors that have proven their loyalty and valor. Can you get enough within three cycles?” (a cycle being the time from sunset to sunset).
Besnik glanced at the large red sun that sat low over the distant horizon; the current cycle was nearly over. “I know many warriors that we can trust. I shall begin contacting them at once. Should I schedule an imperator inspection of Ilofrud Byd in three cycles?”
“Gather your warriors, but make no mention of Ilofrud Byd to anyone. If someone realizes that I am gathering troops, they must have no hint or suspicion that Ilofrud Byd is the target.”
“A surprise inspection then?” Besnik asked.
“Precisely.”
Without another word, Besnik disappeared into the tower and began his preparations. Arash turned his steely gaze upon the Potestatem. You have forced my actions, he thought to himself (it was possible for a delepathig to hide his thoughts from any he desired), now I will do as I must to save our people from your maladroit governing.
Arash returned to his office and went to the wooden wall behind his desk. Anger rising, he tore the banner of his nation from the wall – a banner he had once hung with pride. The banner was ignored as Arash stepped on it and began scratching symbols into the wall. In the center he traced the ancient symbol for the delepathig people. To either side he scratched the numeric symbol for ‘one million’ eight times – eight million of Arash’s people living on a dying world, waiting for the end.
He would save them all, no matter what it took.
͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ Ѿ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏