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Episode 33: The Gamilon Pilot
"What happened…?" Derek groaned. His eyes cracked open, but his vision was still fuzzy and he couldn't identify the room he was in right away.
"You're in sick bay." Dr. Sane's whiny voice replied from somewhere outside Derek's line of vision.
He tried to sit up, but when he did he felt a sharp strap dig into his arms and chest. "Hey, what's going on?"
"Captain's orders, Wildstar." Dr. Sane replied, his bald head coming into view as his small beady eyes stared at the combat chief, "Can't have you attacking the prisoner again."
"What'd she do to me?" Wildstar asked, partly surprised at the woman's attack, and partly angry that he'd let her get that close to him.
"Nova said she got behind you and got a good hold around your neck. She said the pilot looked desperate to get you out of commission before you killed her." Sane replied.
Derek thought about this for a second. Would he really have killed her? Maybe. He didn't truly know now that his anger had ebbed. He remembered the look in the pilot's eyes. It was like she was trying to tell him something.
He shook the memory away. She was a Gamilon, surely she couldn't have any capacity for fear, compassion, pity – anything human, despite her physical form being like their own. Could she?
"So how long am I stuck here?" Wildstar asked.
"Until the captain lets you out." Sane replied, "Which may be soon since you've woken up. He wanted me to be sure you were alright before he gave you your punishment for assaulting a prisoner."
Wildstar took a deep breath and sighed, "I suppose I deserve that."
"I should say so." Sane agreed, "I saw the security footage. You gave her a good punch in the face. I'm surprised she didn't go down right then. I have to check her out once Sandor gets done talking with her."
"Sandor's talking with her? He can understand what she's saying?" Derek was surprised by this; he thought Sandor was only able to translate the written language. Unless… "Oh, he must be having her write down everything so he can read it."
"Don't know." Sane shrugged, "But Homer and Nova are in there with him."
"That's odd…" he thought, "Nova I can understand, but why's Homer there?"
Shock shot through Nova when she heard Homer speak to the Gamilon woman as though she would understand him, but to her surprise, the woman did indeed understand Homer and replied to him in a language that sounded similar, but oddly different from the words the comm officer had used.
"What's going on here?" Nova thought, staring first at Homer, then at the woman – Melda Dietz if Nova had correctly understood the first thing that had been said.
She looked at Sandor, mouth hanging slightly open, eyes wide. The executive officer returned her gaze, giving her a sober look and mouthing, "I'll explain afterward."
Nova gave a small nod and returned her eyes to Homer and Melda.
"Are you alright?" Homer asked, pointing to the bruising beginning to appear on Melda's jaw as well as the bloody lip she'd incurred during the scuffle.
The woman's hand flew to her face and she winced when she felt the blemishes.
"Yes." She replied, "But it does not feel the best right now." She gave Homer what he thought might equate to a tiny, nervous smile.
Homer turned to Nova, "Can you look at that?" he pointed at the bruise and blood.
Nova nodded, "Sure." She stood and rifled through a first-aid station until she found what she was looking for.
She approached the pilot slowly, trying not to startle her or communicate a threat in any way.
She needn't have worried.
Melda said something to Homer, who translated to Nova, "She says, 'You don't have to be afraid, I know you will not hurt me.'"
Nova let out a little sigh of relief and smiled at Melda, closing the distance between them instantly. She slipped on gloves then reached up to Melda's face, feeling the area with gentle hands to make sure that nothing was broken before she did anything else.
Finding the woman's face free of lasting harm she cleaned the blood from her lip and applied an ointment to it, cutting away the sting she was sure the pilot was feeling from the tender cut. Then she handed the other woman a small white square and directed her to press it against her face.
The pilot asked something and Homer replied.
"What'd she say?" Nova asked.
"She asked what it was. I told her it was ice." Said Homer.
"Thank you." Nova said, nodding to Homer, then turning to leave the pilot, but when she started to go back to her chair the pilot caught her arm.
Nova looked at the woman questioningly. Melda replied with one word – one Nova didn't know, but understood to be a pleading, "Stay."
Nova acquiesced and sat down beside Melda on the bed.
Melda said something else to Homer who translated her words before replying this time.
"She wants to know where the man who attacked her is." Homer said, looking over at Sandor for a cue as to what he should tell her since they had no way of knowing if she would try to take some sort of revenge on Wildstar for attacking her.
Sandor gave his permission, "I don't think she's that dangerous. Go ahead and tell her."
Homer nodded, then said something to the pilot which he then translated, "I told her he's been restrained and isn't going to be let out until we know it's safe."
Nova hurt to think about what had happened not twenty minutes ago. Derek had flown into a rage and assaulted Melda in a very serious effort to wound, if not kill her. The memory of Wildstar's face made Nova almost cry. She had never seen him in such a rage before. It was like he wanted to take vengeance on this one woman for the millions that Gamilon had killed these past ten years since the beginning of the bombings. She understood the pain – the anger. She too had lost a father to those bombs, but she also knew that there was no possible way that this woman who sat beside her was personally responsible for any of this tragedy.
Nova suddenly said, "Homer, tell her that I'm so sorry for what happened, and that we mean her no harm."
Homer shrugged and relayed the words.
To her surprise the woman turned to Nova and patted her on the shoulder in a way that made the Eratite feel that Melda was much older than she looked. The sad smile that appeared on Melda's face nearly made Nova cry. It was as though this woman too had lost someone most dear to her in this war.
Just as Nova was about to say something else to the woman, Melda started to speak.
Homer relayed it, "I saw in your eyes that you would not harm me. You have the look of one I once saw – Astra of Iscandar, and I mistook you for her when I first saw you. That is why I stared."
At this, the woman looked a bit embarrassed to have mistaken Nova for the Iscandari princess.
"We only want to save our home." Nova said gently, "We wish no one harm."
Once Homer had repeated her words the pilot looked at Nova in confusion and in a questioning voice asked something that Nova needed no translation for – "Really?"
"I am so sorry it has come to fighting one another…" Nova said softly, putting a gentle hand on Melda's near shoulder. "So very sorry…"
Melda's eyes teared up when she heard Homer's translation. The pilot never took her eyes off of Nova as she said, through Homer, "I am sorry too. I had heard much about you Eratites, but I did not know what to believe about you until now." Tears finally fell from the woman's eyes. "You are not what many of my people think. Yes, there is savagery here…" she paused, looking pointedly at the place where Derek had fallen to the floor, "But there is grace and compassion as well." She returned her gaze to Nova and smiled sadly. "I am not afraid of you anymore."
Nova laughed in relief and smiled, "I'm glad you aren't. But…" here her face fell once again, "What can we do now that you are here? What would happen to you if you went back to your ship?"
Nova looked over at Sandor for an answer. He stared back at her solemnly, thinking.
There was a long silence while they all waited for the XO to give his judgment. Even Melda looked at him, waiting.
Finally Sandor sat up, taking his eyes from the handheld he was interacting with and replied, "I must speak to the captain. In the meantime, Melda, please remain here. Miss Forrester will see to it that you have whatever you need."
Homer told Melda this and Nova nodded in agreement.
"Homer, you're needed back on the bridge before anyone gets too suspicious of this little meeting." Sandor gave the comm officer a side-long look.
Homer grew nervous at the implications of someone else finding out that he could talk with the aliens who'd ravaged the Earth. He started to shake a bit, his nerves getting the better of him for a moment, then he steeled himself and said, "You're right, Sandor. I'll get right back." Then he looked back at the two women and asked, "But how will they communicate without someone to translate?"
Sandor smiled and held up the computer he'd been fiddling with. "Nova, give me your handheld."
The Lieutenant handed her superior the computer she carried around. He took it and touched his to hers for two seconds, then handed Nova hers back.
"There." Sandor said, "Now she can write what she wants to say and it will translate for you without Homer having to be involved."
Homer looked at the XO in annoyance, "And why didn't you do that before you brought me down here?"
"I hadn't finished the program yet. I didn't know some things that this conversation cleared up for me." Sandor replied.
"Oh…" Homer replied sheepishly, then turned to go, but before he left he told Melda good-bye. The pilot did likewise, waving at him in the way someone does to a new friend whom they hope to meet again soon.
Nova looked down at her handheld and then at Melda.
Sandor left the room, leaving the two women alone. Nova wrote something on the screen and handed it to Melda.
The woman read it, "Is there anything you need?"
The pilot smiled and wrote back, "Just some water." Then handed the thing back.
Nova read it and nodded, then fetched the pilot some water.
Derek stepped into the captain's cabin, the guards on either side of him waited outside.
Then door closed behind him and Wildstar looked into the room to find the captain seated at his small desk looking very stern.
Wildstar saluted his captain, the anxiety he'd felt since leaving sick bay now welling up. Whatever the captain sentenced him to do as a result of his rash actions was well deserved he knew. He might even face demotion for this. If he did, he would understand. The captain had to keep order on board, and attacking a prisoner – or anyone for that matter – was unacceptable behavior for a crew member of any rank.
"At ease, Wildstar." Avatar said and Derek dropped his arm back to his side, but he made no move to come any closer to the captain.
Avatar let the silence stand for a moment, then finally motioned for Derek to come and sit at the opposite side of the desk. "We have a lot to talk about."
Derek swallowed hard and obeyed, sitting down across from the captain, avoiding his gaze.
"I cannot have anyone attacking anyone else aboard this ship." Avatar said, his voice firm, "I don't care who they are or what you think they've done. You are to respect their life as you would your own – even this Gamilon we now have on board. If you disregard that, you're no better than they are, Wildstar."
At this Derek nodded and looked up at Avatar, "I'll accept any punishment you have for me." He said, genuinely repentant. "Even giving up my post."
The captain shook his head, "No, Wildstar. You won't be surrendering your rank. I need you right where you are. There is no one else aboard this ship who can do the job you're doing. But what I do need you to do is go back to our prisoner and give her a heart-felt apology, you will also head up a group of Tiger pilots who will be repairing her ship so that she can return to her fleet."
"But, Captain!" Wildstar protested in alarm at the suggestion that they should simply let the woman leave so easily.
"It is decided, Wildstar. I have already told Sandor and he has informed the pilot. She is most eager to return." He looked at Wildstar with strange eyes, "It would seem that our Miss Forrester has made quite an impression on our prisoner. The pilot has said that, though she will return to her fleet, she will no longer fight against us, instead, she will do what she can to spread the truth about who we are and why we're making this voyage."
"But don't they already know all that?" Derek asked.
"They do not." Avatar replied, "It seems that we are viewed as a threat to the very existence of Gamilon for reasons the pilot did not say. We have convinced her at least that the things she has been told are false."
Derek nodded slowly, "I see…" he said, thinking about what exactly this could mean for the rest of their trip, "Do you think we can really trust her?"
Avatar nodded, "I do. Sandor took me to see her a few minutes ago. I have just returned from my conversation with her." He paused, then decided to tell Wildstar another thing he had discovered, "She knows of Astra of Iscandar."
Derek's eyes widened, "How?"
"It would seem that the Iscandarians are well respected on Gamilon. Again, I do not know why." Avatar replied.
"So they don't know Starsha sent us that message." Derek said, wide-eyed, "What are we walking into here, Captain?"
"I don't know." The captain replied, "But I suspect it is more complicated than we know. The only thing we can do now is send this pilot – this 'Melda Dietz' – back with a good impression, and the truth. From there, only God truly knows what will happen, but I pray that we will now have at least one ally among a host of enemies."
Derek thought on the captain's words for a while before saying, "I'll get the pilots to work on her plane." He stood, "Permission to leave, Sir?"
"Permission granted." The captain said, "And send your guards in here. I'll let them know they aren't needed anymore."
Dara felt completely alien here onboard the Eratite ship. All of them – with the exception of the man who had attacked her – were kind to her, especially the woman called "Nova" who looked so much like Astra.
She looked around the room again, just as she had a hundred times since the ship's Captain had left a few hours ago. The energy on the ship seemed charged somehow – as though a thousand tiny lightning bolts were waiting to strike at the same instant. She didn't know what it meant. Would she be detained further, or would they, as the captain had promised, release her?
She began pacing.
Nova had had to leave some time ago to return to her duty station, but she'd left Dara one of the handheld computers she had been using to communicate without the man Homer to interpret.
Just when she felt she could take the silence no longer she heard footsteps outside. They were light, probably a woman's. She smiled when Nova opened the door and came in. Dara smiled even brighter when she saw what Nova carried. Her pilot's uniform.
Nova handed the violet suit over and Dara immediately went into the small washroom and changed into the more familiar material. The scratchy Eratite garment had served its purpose, but the breathable pilot suit felt so much better against her skin than the short gown ever had.
Dara came out and handed the gown over to Nova who tossed it into a hole in the wall – probably a laundry chute of some sort.
"Thank you," Dara wrote on the handheld and passed it to Nova. The Eratite woman nodded and wrote back, "I thought you might want it. We've almost finished repairing your plane. Would you like to go down to the hangar and see it?"
"Yes!" Dara wrote so happy that her plane hadn't been scrapped during the encounter she'd had with the two Eratite pilots.
Nova nodded and motioned for Dara to follow her out the door.
Dara followed.
It felt strange to be walking through the odd ship and she received more than one stare on her way to the fighter bays.
Soon they were there and to Dara's relief she saw that her plane's maintenance had just been completed. But then she saw the one person she had hoped not to see – the man who'd attacked her.
He came towards Dara and Nova and the Gamilon scooted behind Nova, afraid of what the man might do this time, but instead of a look of rage, Dara saw something akin to regret in his face. Curious, she stepped out from behind the Eratite woman and met the man face-to-face.
Nova handed him the computer and said something to him. He nodded and took it. He spent a long time writing and rewriting something on its smooth surface. When he handed Dara the handheld she saw on it the last thing she'd expected. Two words hung there, "I'm sorry."
She looked from the words to the man, then back again several times, as though she were judging his sincerity.
Finally she lowered the handheld and gave the man a nod of thanks.
He put out his hand in a gesture she wasn't totally unfamiliar with, but had at least some idea of how she was meant to respond, so she did what her own acquaintances on Gamilon would have done.
Derek held out his hand, not knowing if the pilot would understand his intent or not, but to his surprise she gripped his forearm.
He had never shaken hands like this before, but he suspected this was her people's way of doing it, so he did the same and gripped her forearm firmly, but not too hard.
The grip lasted a few seconds, then the pilot released Wildstar and he let go as well, knowing his apology had just been accepted.
He motioned for her to hand him the computer back and he scrawled on it, "Your plane's fixed now. I wish you a safe journey back to your ship."
The woman smiled when she read it and replied, "Thank you." Then to Derek's surprise she turned to Nova and gave her a hug.
Nova looked startled, but she accepted the gesture and returned it.
The pilot started to climb into her plane but Derek stopped her, handing her something and holding up the handheld with one word on it, "Food."
The pilot nodded and took it. Then, with a salute she pulled down her flight helmet and sealed her cockpit.
A few minutes later she was gone and Derek and Nova stood staring at the place her fighter occupied these past three days, feeling as though they had just wished a friend good-bye, but not sure exactly why.
Episode 34: Chasing the Storm
"We've been stuck here for three weeks since that pilot left…" Mark thought as he stared out the front viewport at the monstrous phenomena they'd come across almost twenty-one days ago.
The thing was huge, so huge in fact that if they tried to go around it, the entire trip would have taken over a month. They hadn't anticipated running into something like this and the map Starsha had left for them in her message capsule hadn't mentioned it either.
Mark shivered at the thought. What if she'd purposefully left out some information? What if she was luring them all to their doom?
He shook the morbid thought away. How could he think things like that? After all this "Starsha of Iscandar" had already proved herself to be on their side in this conflict. She'd given them a way to save Earth – wasn't that enough to earn at least a little bit of his trust?
He looked up at the bright orange and stark black mass of stormy clouds swirling before them.
The sight was stranger than anything else they'd yet seen on this journey. It was almost like four stars had turned black and were revolving around one another in some sort of sick dance. The orange clouds seemed to be some sort of byproduct of the four black masses' revolutions.
They had yet to get a decent sensor reading from the clouds or the black spheres. Sandor had tried sending in some sort of probe, but everything he'd sent in never came back out, and the signal was so bad that they hadn't been able to receive any of the telemetry the devices were transmitting.
They were stuck.
Mark sighed and stood to go since his duty shift was now over.
His replacement nodded to him as Mark passed the other young man on his way off the bridge.
"What're they doing?" Colonel Gantz demanded of one of the crewmen.
"I – I don't know, Colonel." The man replied, "They're just sitting there, like they don't know what to do."
Gantz shook his head, "Perhaps they're not as intelligent as they first seemed." He quipped, "We made it through the storm without incident. Can they not see what's right in front of them? There's a completely open channel." Gant looked at the displayed image of the Eratite ship with derision.
"I don't think they're sensors are as good as ours." The crewman replied quietly, not wanting to agitate the Colonel more than he already was.
"I can see that." The Colonel snapped, "Just do whatever we have to do to make them come through that channel. It's time we faced the Eratites. And defeated them."
Dara felt strange back aboard Rakiah Cobel. Her encounter with the Eratites three weeks ago had taken a lot out of her and she'd slept a whole twelve hours upon her return.
Her shipmates had understood her fatigue and let her be.
She'd nearly died of fright though when, upon her waking, she was summoned to the Captain's quarters to give a report on what had happened to her.
She'd explained as well as she dared leaving out such things as her newfound semi-friendship with them and the fact that she'd told them some things of value.
It was hard work not telling Raphan what he wanted to know. Several times she'd almost slipped and mentioned something she shouldn't. All the while she felt the eyes of the second-in-command boring into her, evaluating her every word.
She knew they were trying to find out if she was dangerous to keep aboard ship now that she'd been under the "care" of the enemy for any length of time.
Dara did her best to allay their fears telling them that the Eratites couldn't even understand her. This set the two men at ease a bit as they were assured that, had she said anything important, they wouldn't have known it anyway.
Raphan finally dismissed Dara and she hadn't been called back again to talk, so she was fairly certain that her answers had met with their approval.
She sat on her bunk again, staring at the floor, thinking about a thousand things she now wanted to know about the Eratites. Why did they look so much like her own people? What had compelled them to come this far out into space chasing the message of a woman they knew nothing about? Why did they think there was any hope in resistance against such a power as Gamilon.
She wished she'd asked more questions when she was aboard that ship – "Argo" they'd called her. So far she knew that they'd come because Queen Starsha of Iscandar herself had offered to help them by giving them the Rophi Shamayim to cure their ailing world of the poison that now polluted it.
Dara's mind raced at this one thought. Did Desslok know about this? If so, had he taken measures to ensure that they didn't reach their goal? She couldn't imagine that he would ever do anything to injure the Iscandari Queen. What little interaction she'd witnessed between her brother and Starsha had been the farthest thing from militant that she could imagine, in fact, she was sure that her brother had a great deal of fondness for the woman. After all, he had overthrown his own twin brother to save her world from the plague that had been unleashed on Iscandar during that Usurper's reign.
A sudden yawn cut off her thoughts and she realized how tired she was. A day of more flight drills than she could count on top of her regular duties had sapped the energy out of her.
She was just about to curl up on her bed and go to sleep when she heard a chime.
"Computer, who is it?" Dara asked.
"Emma Meir" replied the ship computer.
"Come in." Dara invited.
The door hissed open and Emma stepped in, the door closing immediately behind her.
"Hey." The girl greeted cheerily. "How've you been?"
Dara sat back up in bed. "Fine." She replied casually, "Just tired from everything."
"Yeah, I can imagine." Emma replied, coming over to sit on the bed. "What was it like on that ship?"
Dara's heart started to beat a little faster, "Well…" she began, "It was… different, I guess. Not anything like our ships."
"And what about the Eratites? What were they like?" Emma probed.
Dara didn't reply for a moment, the faces of the men and women she'd met aboard that strange ship rolled through her mind in a continuous loop. Finally she said, "They were… a lot like… us."
Emma drew back, her eyes wide, "What are you talking about?"
"They looked like us, okay!" Dara exclaimed, suddenly irritated at the girl, "What's so weird about that? We didn't know what they were like before, and now we do!"
"Yeah…" Emma's shock seemed to ebb a bit, "I just didn't expect that…"
"I didn't either." Dara admitted softly, "I'm tired. Maybe we can talk later, okay." She looked away from the young woman ashamed at her outburst, "I'm sorry I yelled at you."
Emma reached over and patted Dara on the shoulder. "That's okay. I shouldn't have barged in this late anyway. See you tomorrow."
Emma stood to leave and was about to go out the door when Dara called after her, "Breakfast tomorrow – oh six hundred."
"You got it." Emma replied, then stepped out the door.
Dara sighed and laid back down. What was it about that girl that made her want to talk to her? Usually she didn't like the bubbly friendly type, but Emma seemed a bit more… solid somehow, like there was more to her than just the cheery exterior.
She closed her eyes and was thinking about what to tell Emma in the morning as she dozed off to sleep. Just before she lost consciousness completely the thought occurred to her that, as soon as she could, she should contact Admiral Dietz and tell him everything she'd learned while aboard the Eratite ship.
"Captain, how soon until we rendezvous with General Lysis' fleet?" Pauker asked Raphan. "The information Miss Dietz was able to give us isn't much, but perhaps it could be useful."
The Captain nodded his agreement, "On this, we agree, Pauker." Raphan summoned their flight plan from the computer and displayed it on one wall, "We should meet up with them before the day is out, then from there we go back to Gamilon with them. After that, I can't say where we'll be assigned." The Captain sighed, "I just hope that leaving Gantz and his fleet to deal with that Eratite ship was a wise move."
Pauker looked at his captain in horror, "You would question the Leader's orders?"
"No." Raphan shook his head, "But I wish he would explain himself more often. He scatters us about as though we were chess pieces to be moved to suit his whim. What is the bigger picture? What is our goal in all this? I wish I knew. If I did, perhaps it would be easier to obey him."
Pauker accepted this, "I see." He nodded, "Perhaps he will explain in time."
Raphan let out a curt laugh, "I doubt it." He smirked, "That man never did explain himself, even when we were trekking through the wilderness on the way to overthrow the Usurper he didn't explain himself. Why would he start now?"
"Y-you were there during the rebellion?" Pauker stuttered.
"I was." Raphan replied, "I was indeed. The difference between then and now though is that I knew what we we'd set out to do, and I wanted to do everything I could to help the Leader accomplish that goal. Now…" Raphan shook his head, "It is said that we must destroy the Eratites – that we must take their world as our new home… But it just seems that we do as we're told and no one knows much of anything anymore."
Pauker nodded, suddenly much more solemn than Raphan had ever seen him, "We need a change for the better, Captain. Maybe it will come soon, before too many more of us die.
"What're we still doing here?" Wildstar asked, frustrated more than he could ever remember being in his life. "Why haven't we done something by now?" he kicked the nearest wall, regretting it as a sharp pain shot through his foot. "Ow!"
Nova raised an eyebrow at him from her seat at a nearby table. "Settle down before you hurt yourself." She chided, "Nobody wants to get out of here more than the Captain."
"Then why aren't we doing something?" he growled at her.
She gave him a look that said he was acting like a three-year old, "Some things take time, Derek." She replied, "Not everything can be solved in thirty seconds."
"It's been three weeks though." He continued, pacing back and forth, "You'd think we'd at least know whether or not to start going around this thing,"
"Derek, just sit down and eat." Nova said, "Mark'll be here for your chess game in twenty minutes."
"Ah, so what." Derek dismissed, "Can't concentrate enough to play that anyway."
"Okay." She said, "You still need to eat. You've been picking at your food for three days now. Even Homer noticed you haven't been eating, and he hardly ever eats with you."
"He ate with me and Mark last week." Derek defended.
"I didn't say he never ate with you." Nova replied, Wildstar's mood starting to wear at her patience. "Just eat. If you don't sit down and eat right now I'm going to go sit with Peter* and the rest of the Tiger pilots."
"Okay, fine." Wildstar grudgingly went to sit down in front of his food and started picking at it with his fork.
Nova accepted the small victory and let Derek be, hoping he would actually put something in his mouth instead of just staring at it while it got stone cold.
Fifteen minutes passed like this with Nova finishing her food long before Derek even took his first bite.
"I can't do this!" Derek exclaimed, slamming his fork down on the table and drawing a number of looks form others in the mess hall, "I can't sit here and do nothing while we waste away waiting for the Gamilons to find us, or for our time to run out! I'm going out there. If there's a way through that storm, I'm finding it!"
"Derek, don't do that!" Nova started to get up; she tried to reach out to stop him, but he streaked out of the mess hall like a man on fire."
"Captain." Nova dialed Avatar's comm number. He answered right away and she continued, "Wildstar's headed for the hangar. He's going to try to find a way through the storm out there."
The Captain didn't say anything for a moment, then he replied, "Let him. Perhaps he'll find something we haven't seen before. I'll call the hangar and tell them he's coming."
"Thank you, Captain." Nova replied, not entirely sure of the wisdom in letting Derek go out in that storm in his current mood. But, then again, the Captain had ordered stranger things before and they'd all turned out for the best. Perhaps that would be the case this time too.
She sipped at the rest of her tea and prayed that the combat chief would come back from his suicide run in one piece.
Leader Desslok stood looking over the gathered crowd who now chanted the name of the man who he'd appointed commander over all his armed forces – General Dommel Lysis, his trusted ally.
The entourage bearing the General up to the level on which the Leader stood was simple: a single vehicle surrounded by a dozen armed guards. The Leader would have made the show more elaborate, but Dommel had been less than enthusiastic about a ceremony at all.
The vehicle stopped at the base of the stairs. Dommel exited the aircar and took the steps slowly, letting the gathered crowd see the man who'd been lauded as a hero for his efforts on Gamilon's behalf. He'd been the one whose face they'd seen associated with all the efforts to find the people a new home. His face was now synonymous with hope. Desslok wanted it this way – at least for now. With Dommel as the face of the push towards Erats, it was unlikely that too many would try to undermine the effort.
"Lysis" was a name well remembered from the time of Rea Atid and the Marad so many years ago. As a veteran from those awful days, Dommel had earned both respect and sympathy from the masses, making him the ideal candidate for the endeavor Desslok now wanted him to embark on.
Dommel finally made it to where Desslok stood.
He bowed before the Leader, dropping to one knee, head low as a sign of respect.
"Rise, Dommel." Desslok bid the man, "No need for that. Today I honor you for all you've done thus far to aid our people in claiming their new home."
Dommel stood and looked the younger man in the eye, then in a voice low enough not to be heard by any of the by standing councilmen and women he said, "This isn't necessary, Leader Desslok. I would have been happy to return home without such ceremony."
"I know." The Leader replied quietly, "But the people need someone they can look to in this time of uncertainty."
"They look to you, Sire." Dommel replied.
"Yes, but my name is not as well-known as yours, my friend. At least, not yet." Desslok said as he motioned for Celestella to approach with the medal of honor she held.
Desslok took the medal and, with finesse Dommel hadn't known the young Leader possessed, affixed the sign of approval to Lysis's uniform. Celestella stepped back to her place within the council.
Dommel was about to turn and face the cheering crowd when Desslok said, "I have another assignment for you, old friend."
"If it will help our people, then I will accept any task you have for me." Dommel replied.
Desslok nodded appreciatively, "I thank you for your willingness; I will not forget your great service to Gamilon and to our people." He took a moment to begin again, then said, "I have need of your presence at Balan. The commander of that facility has proven… less than competent and the Eratite ship will arrive there in two weeks' time. Face it and bring it to its knees. It must not stop us from conquering Erats – nothing must."
Dommel absorbed the request, then with a hearty nod, accepted it. "I will do whatever I can to stop them, Leader Desslok. You have my word."
"Thank you, Dommel. I hope you enjoy the three days you have here on Gamilon before you leave for Balan."
Dommel nodded, "Yes, Leader Desslok."
With that the big man turned and faced the adoring crowd, receiving a multitude of praise for his efforts on their behalf.
Elisa watched the proceedings from her place in the council. She was overjoyed to see her husband home again. It had been too long since she'd seen him last and there was much she wanted to talk with him about.
Perhaps he would know what to do about the Leader's increasingly aggressive stance on the Eratite ship. Admiral Dietz was growing more and more concerned now that he'd heard something from his daughter Melda. Yesterday, before her ship made it to port the girl contacted her father and told him of a strange event. She'd been captured and held aboard the Eratite ship for nearly three days.
Elisa was at the Dietz residence at the time of the conversation and heard most of it as Gul invited her to listen.
Melda described the Eratites as stunningly similar to the Gamilon people. Though their skin tones came closer to matching the Iscandarians', everything else about them seemed identical. Then there was the strangest thing of all. There was a woman aboard the ship who looked like Astra of Iscandar, but when asked, she'd said she wasn't the Iscandari princess. Though she had no doubt the woman was telling the truth, something about the encounter chilled Elisa, but the chill was not one of fear. Instead, a strange anticipation now lingered in her heart – a desire to meet this woman – to see whatever Melda saw that made her assume the woman to be Astra.
The ceremony came to an end, jerking Elisa back to the present.
She waited for the crowds to clear out, then started off towards the place Dommel said he would meet her.
As she went, her thoughts continued to return to the things Melda said the day before. Everything was getting stranger and stranger by the day. All she could do now was what she believed was right, and defending the Eratites was what she knew in her heart she needed to do. Hopefully Dommel would understand…
*Peter - Conroy