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Episode 37: All Through the Night
Starsha hurriedly looked into every room and hall she passed, ever-aware that time was passing much too quickly for her to do any kind of detailed search for the man and woman she was trying to find.
She didn't know exactly where they were going, only that they had been travelling down this hallway when she'd started the process of "coming" here.
She hurried along until she found a fork in the hall.
Which way should she go? She peered down both dark passageways, wondering what lay at each end of the hall. She looked around a little more and finally saw words etched into the walls that would have told her where to go had she been able to read the Eratite language.
She looked at the signs anyway and was shocked to find that she could read them.
"Thank you, Yahweh." She prayed, then read both signs. The one pointing to her left read "Hangar" and the other one read "Mess Hall."
"I don't think they would have gone to the Mess Hall." She thought, "After all, there shouldn't be anything there aside from more crew and whatever food they were eating when the lights went out."
She looked down the left hall and took a deep breath before setting out.
She travelled as quickly as she dared in the dark and somewhere along the way she became aware that she was giving off some sort of glow – just like the Interface did when it was activated.
Soon she reached the hangar. The doors were closed and did not respond to her presence. She was staring at them wondering if they were still working when two pairs of gloved hands forced the doors apart and started to step out of the bay.
"Ahhh!" a light-skinned, dark haired woman dressed in a pilot's uniform let out a startled yell at the sight of Starsha standing in the corridor.
The man she was with – also in uniform – instantly drew his weapon and pointed it at her demanding, "Who are you and how did you get on board?!"
Starsha answered without thinking, "I am Starsha of Iscandar."
Both crewmen looked at her wide-eyed.
"If you're her, how is it you speak our language?" the man asked.
Starsha thought about that for a moment. How was she speaking the Eratite tongue? Then it dawned on her, "I am not here in the traditional sense. I am a projection of your engine core. It has a translation matrix. Through it I am able to communicate with you in your own language." She looked from the man to the woman, "I am here to help you."
At this the man relaxed and holstered his weapon, "Like that time you came before? When that intruder was onboard?"
"Yes." Starsha replied, "That is correct."
"I'm Feria" the woman said, holding out a hand to Starsha, then thought about what she was doing, "Oh, sorry – probably can't touch anything here, right?"
"No." Starsha smiled at the woman and shook her head, "unfortunately not."
"Peter – Peter Conroy." The other pilot introduced himself, "Sorry about being so jumpy. The rest of the pilots are all out cold. Not sure why, but we both have this weird feeling – like bugs crawling up your back."
"That is understandable." Starsha replied, "The servants of Abaddon have overcome your ship."
Conroy covered his face with his hand and shook his head in dread, "I was afraid of this… After that incident before, I knew it was just a matter of time before something else came after us."
"What incident?" Starsha asked, remembering that the woman in the video she'd seen earlier had also mentioned an encounter of some sort.
"There was this gas-creature that came after us. Some of the bridge officers and the Captain felt the thing die when it was eaten by the star we were passing." Feria supplied, "One of my good friends told me about it afterwards. It was pretty terrifying from what I hear – like the Devil himself was chasing us."
"I had no idea…" Starsha said, wondering why the core had not alerted her to this situation. Perhaps she should increase the sensitivity of the thing's sensors so that it would notify her more often.
"Ah, no reason you should know, I guess," Feria replied, "It wasn't like we died or anything." Then the oriental woman stopped talking as she realized something else, "Wait – you said you were 'Starsha of Iscandar,' but you're their queen, right? Should we even be having this conversation with you like this?"
Starsha laughed, "It is fine, Feria. I assure you. Being spoken to normally is a good thing for those in places of authority. It is appreciated, in fact."
"Oh, alright, as long as it's okay." Feria said.
"It is fine." Starsha assured her, "But to the matter at hand – there are two more groups of you out looking for a way to restore the ship. I saw them earlier. I am trying to meet up with one of them – a woman – my sister I think – and a man named 'Homer.'"
"Your sister?" Feria asked, puzzled, "I don't know if she's on board – "
"We'll help you find them." Conroy interrupted, giving Feria a strange look as he did it. Feria shrugged her shoulders at him.
"I don't know what is still functioning on this ship and what is not." Starsha said, "It may be more difficult to find them than I first thought."
"Yeah, probably." Feria said as she pulled out her communicator and tried raise someone on it, but nothing happened. "Comms are dead." She said.
"The ship network is completely down." Conroy said, holding up his own hand-held device, trying to get it to communicate with the ship to pull up anything at all. He couldn't even get a ship diagram to load. "Good thing they made us all memorize the layout of the ship before we launched." He said ruefully. "At least we know where we are and how to get where we want to go…"
"Where should we go?" Starsha asked, "And how can I help?"
"I don't really know." Conroy answered as he thought about the question. "What's even going on here?" he looked around the hall. It was clear except for one crewman slumped onto the floor, eyes closed.
"I guess, just watch our backs." Feria said, "There's no telling what's going to happen."
"Alright. I shall 'watch your backs.'" Starsha nodded.
"Let's go this way." Conroy pointed down the hall in the opposite direction from the unconscious crewman.
Both women followed him as they started on their way. Without warning a terrible sound came from behind them.
"Enemies! Enemies of the Master!" the guttural shout startled them all and they turned to see a gigantic shadow looming over the crewman on the floor and staring at the three of them with eyes that glowed like embers. "He will not be stopped! You cannot stop him!"
Feria and Conroy stared at the thing speechless, having never seen anything like this before. The Iscandari queen had no such handicap.
"Leave this ship! By the name of Jesus Messiah, I bid you leave now!" Starsha ordered the phantom.
"You! Meddler!" it managed before melting into nothingness.
"What was that?" Conroy asked, staring in awe at the Iscandarian.
"It was what you would call a 'demon,' a foul spirit sent from Abaddon's lair. They are here in great numbers. And your ship will not be easily cleansed. It is not I who banished this one, but my Adonai who has done this thing. Do not look upon me with such wonder, my friends. I am merely a servant of a much mightier Master." Starsha said.
"We are too!" Feria exclaimed, finally understanding why she and Conroy had escaped the ship-wide coma, "And so is Homer and other woman you saw." Then she remembered, "Hey, that other group you were talking about – it's gotta be Sandor and Orion."
"Are you the only seven aboard?" Starsha asked, sure that she'd seen more who shared her faith in Yeshua in the images she'd seen of the crew.
"Seven?" Conroy asked, "You've only seen six of us."
"Your Captain." Starsha clarified, "He is one of you as well unless my sight fails me."
"Yes, he is." Conroy said, "And there are others too, but they may be trapped in their quarters or other areas of the ship."
"I see." Starsha said, "My time is limited here, my friends." Starsha said, realizing that it had been a while since she'd boarded. Checking the time index the Interface provided she realized that she had less than fifteen minutes before she would have to return to Iscandar. "We must go."
"Let's head for the engine room." Feria suggested, "I'm sure that's where Sandor and Orion will go. Maybe Homer and No – his partner – will go there too." Feria wasn't sure why Conroy was so insistent on not telling the queen Nova's name, but she supposed it was for a good reason, so she would go along with it – at least for now.
"That's a good idea." Conroy said, turning around to head down the hall that housed the unconscious crewman. "Hopefully we'll meet up with someone else on the way."
"No life-signs aboard the Gamilon ships, Captain." the officer announced, "They're all dead."
The captain of the dark ship nodded soberly, "What did this?" he asked, "Surely it was not some Eratite weapon. We've seen no indication that they're capable of such a thing." He said quietly, "And that Iscandari woman would never do something so gruesome as murder and entire fleet's crew and leave them to float in space for eternity." He looked at his second-in-command, "What has the scout reported?"
"They've all died within the past half-hour. Most have broken necks, though some appear to have died of heart-attacks or stress-related incidents that caused their systems to fail in one way or another." The man replied.
The captain laughed sadistically, "So they died of fright."
"Yes." The officer replied. "So it would seem."
"But what were they so afraid of?" the captain wondered aloud.
"There was something else the scout reported, Sir." The second-in-command said, "He says there is an odd smell to the ships. Like something rotted and died."
"Shédim!" the Captain exclaimed, "Of course…"
The executive officer took a step away from the captain, "Shédim, Sir? Surely not. How could that be so?"
"I have met two who could have orchestrated the deed." The captain said, "What is the status of the Eratite ship?"
"She's tumbling through space with no apparent course. It's like she's not being controlled at all."
"Can we get a reading on her from this distance?" the captain asked.
"Aye, Sir. Still plenty of life-signs aboard, though their systems are non-functional – all except their engine core, which is operating past its usual energy levels."
"Get the scout back to the ship." Ordered the captain, "We cannot go anywhere near the Eratite vessel until she is either dead or cleansed of the foul things. If we go near her, our fate will be the same as those dead men."
"We're here." Nova said, reaching out a hand to touch the door to the engine room. It didn't open. "Locked." She said in frustration. "There has to be another way in there."
"Maintenance tubes." Homer offered, "Heard Orion saying how hard it was getting for him to use them. Something about not being able to stop himself from slamming into the doors at the bottom of the slides."
"Okay, so how do we get into one of those?" she asked the comm officer.
"Not sure, but we probably have to be at least one floor above the engine room to slide down."
"Good point. Let's get up there and see what we can find."
Homer nodded and followed Nova as they trekked through the growing darkness. They reached one of the tube entrances and to Nova's relief it wasn't locked. She opened the door and got in.
Homer looked at the steep slide with trepidation. He couldn't see anything down the black tube.
"Hey." Nova got Homer to look at her, "Whatever's down there, we can face it." She assured him, "It doesn't matter if Satan himself is trying to destroy this ship. Wherever we go, God is there with us, and even if we can't fight whatever's onboard, He can."
Homer nodded slowly, "I just don't like enclosed spaces that much."
"Just close your eyes and pretend you're in the simulator." She offered.
"Okay…" he reluctantly agreed and waited for Nova to push off before getting in behind her and starting his rapid descent to the engine room.
The slide was short and within ten seconds the ride was over.
Homer had to react quickly not to slam into Nova at the bottom of the slide.
"We have to redesign these things." He thought as he helped Nova force open the door that led out into the engine room.
As soon as it was open, he wished it was closed again.
If the tube had been dark, the engine room was infinitely darker.
"Turn your light off." Homer whispered to Nova.
They were plunged into darkness as the tiny light winked out.
Both crewmen were completely silent as they sat in the mouth of the maintenance tube staring into the blackness all around them.
Eventually their eyes adjusted a bit and they could just make out the engine off to their right. All the control panels were dead.
"What's with all the shadows?" Homer whispered pointing to one of the black masses moving along the floor some distance away.
"That's no shadow, Homer." Nova whispered back. "They're here – dozens of them."
Homer shuddered, "How're we going to get rid of them?"
"Same way we'd get rid of any of them, I'm sure." She replied softly, but we're going to need all the help we can get. You think we can get out without attracting too much attention?"
"I don't know," Homer said shakily. "I don't really want to try either."
"Come on, Homer. We have to do something."
"Why can't we just wait here for help?" He replied.
"Homer, you can't still be afraid of these things. You saw that one disappear earlier. If we can get rid of them that easily, there's no reason to be afraid. They can't possess us. They aren't capable." Nova patted Homer's shoulder as he sat beside her shaking. The courage she'd seen in him earlier had faded now that he'd seen the great host they now faced.
Seeing Homer's continued fear she searched for words that might reassure him. Finding them, she said, "'The LORD is my light, and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The LORD is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? Though an host should encamp against me, my heart shall not fear: though war should rise up against me, in this will I be confident.'*"
At her words, it was as though something broke through the darkness. Instantly whatever shadows were near them scattered, creating a ring of not-so-black space on the floor directly in front of the maintenance tube exit.
"Come on." Nova gently urged Homer, "They can't even be near the words of God. They can't hurt us." With that she slipped out of the tube and into the engine room.
Homer followed slowly, dreading what might happen next.
"Door's locked. Great…" Feria said once they'd reached the engine room. "What're we going to do now?"
The two pilots and the Iscandari stood in silence wondering how they would get through this final obstacle when another voice echoed down the hall behind them.
"Shoulda gone up to the maintenance tubes." It said.
"I can try to override the lock from outside." Another voice said.
Suddenly around the corner came Orion and Sandor. The two men stopped short when they saw Conroy, Feria, and the glowing woman who stood with them.
"Hey, guys." Feria waved sheepishly, "Look who we found." She pointed a thumb back at the apparition. "Glad you got here okay."
Sandor and Orion stood speechless, staring at Starsha.
"She's some sort of projection." Conroy offered, "She's not actually here. And she's only got a few minutes until she has to go."
The XO and engineering chief slowly nodded, then Sandor said, "I am honored to meet you, Queen Starsha."
Starsha nodded, "And I you, Stephen Sandor." She said.
Sandor would've asked her a hundred questions, but Conroy had said her time here was severely limited, so he asked only one, "Can't you go through the door if you have no physical form?"
Starsha's face brightened, "I do not know. But I shall try."
With that, the Iscandari woman approached the locked door and started to push on it with her hand. The appendage passed right through the plating. With a look of awe, she melted through the door and into the engine room.
The first thing her eyes saw was the host of Abaddon turning blood-red eyes towards her. Then she saw two forms, moving slowly in the darkness and recognition dawned on her as her Interface-enhanced vision made out the faces of the man and woman she'd been looking for this whole time.
The sudden brightness stunned Nova and Homer and their eyes instantly flew to the engine room door.
"What…?" Homer asked, completely caught off guard by the sight that met his eyes. There stood a lovely young woman, long red-blonde hair swirled down well past her waist. Her long, blue dress pooled on the floor around her feet and he was surprised she could walk in it without tripping. Her skin was light, close to Nova's skin-tone, and the air around her glowed. She looked right at them.
"Sister, help me." the woman said to Nova. "It is time the forces of Abaddon felt the power of the Most High."
Nova stared back at the glowing woman, recognizing her, "Starsha…?" she said, "How are you here?"
"There is no time, Astra. We must do this quickly, before this projection fades and I must return to Iscandar."
Nova merely nodded, seeing the urgency in Starsha's face, at the same time, she felt the scarlet eyes of the shadows turning to stare at her. "Okay."
Starsha lifted up her face towards what would have been heaven had they been earth-bound and began to pray in a fashion that Nova was not familiar with, but when she heard familiar words she took up the prayer and said with the Iscandari Queen,
"Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day;
Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday.
A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come night thee.*"
The shadows began to hide their eyes in fear and the thick darkness began to shrink away, but just when Nova thought they'd won the light that was the Iscandari queen winked out.
A voice, deep and terrible rumbled through the black night, "What will you do now that she is gone, feeble ones?" it growled. "Who will save you?"
Nova took a deep breath and prayed that Homer would find the courage to fight by her side, then she said to the thing, "I will trust and not be afraid: for the LORD JEHOVAH is my strength and my song; he also is become my salvation.*"
"Very well…" the voice hissed, seeming pained, "Let this war begin."
* Psalm 27: 1 & 3
* Psalm 91:5-7
* Isaiah 12:2
Episode 38: Yet to the True and the Faithful
"No! Not yet!" Starsha exclaimed, feeling so drained she could barely hold herself up on the bench back in the sublevels of the Iscandarian palace. "Please, send me back!" she pleaded with the Interface.
"The chosen action is not currently possible. Any further strain on the engine core will burn it out." The Interface replied.
Starsha nearly wept when she heard these words. She knew that was the case, but she'd hoped that, somehow, she might be able to try again, if only for a few minutes. She'd been pulled back at the worst time possible.
Her sister was in that engine room surrounded by Abaddon's host. Only Adonai could help her now.
She let her face drop into her hands and prayed harder than she had in a long time that all would be well with the Eratite ship, and that Abaddon would be stayed.
"Sandor, what's taking so long?" Conroy asked, anxiously.
"It takes time to get through these locks." The science officer replied, "It isn't as easy as you might think."
"Where's Starsha?" Feria asked.
"She'd probably gone by now." Conroy replied, "She only had a couple minutes left when we got here and it's been that – and longer since she went in."
"I was hoping we could tell her good-bye before she left." Feria sighed, "Not every day you get to meet a real, live queen."
"We'll see her again soon." Sandor put in, "When we get to Iscandar, I'm sure you'll have another chance to talk with her." The XO cut a few wires and re-connected them in different places before finally announcing, "That should do it."
She stood up and pulled the manual override. The door slowly inched open just enough for one of them to pass through at a time.
"What's going on in there?" Feria asked quietly as she heard a cacophony of voice clattering through the other room.
"Be prepared for anything, lass." Orion said, "You never know what you might walk into in there."
Feria nodded.
Conroy stepped up to enter first and squeezed through the opening without trouble.
Feria followed him, then Orion – though Sandor had to pull the door open just a bit more for the stout engineer to make it through. Then he too came through the door and into the giant open space.
It was darker in here than it had been out in the hall, and there were those strange red lights everywhere.
The four crewmen stopped instantly when the sea of red dots all moved – towards them.
"What is going on in here…?" thought Conroy as he looked on.
Off to their right they could hear Nova saying something – but they were all too stunned to hear what it was for a moment. Then they finally realized what she was doing, and they joined her, lifting voices in a song to their God:
"Conquering now and still to conquer, rideth a King in His might;
Leading the host of all the faithful into the midst of the fight;
See them with courage advancing, clad in their brilliant array,
Shouting the Name of their Leader, hear them exultingly say:
Not to the strong is the battle, not to the swift is the race,
Yet to the true and the faithful vict'ry is promised through grace.
Conquering now and still to conquer, who is this wonderful King?
Whence are the armies which He leadeth, while of His glory they sing?
He is our Lord and Redeemer, Savior and Monarch divine;
They are the stars that forever bright in His kingdom will shine.
Conquering now and still to conquer, Jesus, Thou Ruler of all,
Thrones and their scepters all shall perish, crowns and their splendor shall fall,
Yet shall the armies Thou leadest, faithful and true to the last,
Find in Thy mansions eternal rest, when their warfare is past.
Not to the strong is the battle, not to the swift is the race,
Yet to the true and the faithful vict'ry is promised through grace."*
The room echoed with their voice and everything seemed to brighten around them, as though they were each a candle shining in the dark, carving a path of light into the thickening night.
At Starsha's sudden disappearance Nova felt the sudden fear of being alone – having to fight this army by herself. Homer was still standing behind her, shivering. The young woman stared into the darkness and whispered, "Help me."
The apparent leader of the host before her laughed loudly at her and a multitude of awful voices skittered and clacked through the room like insects crawling towards her. She felt like she was in a den of snakes and she didn't know how long it would take for the first one to strike.
As she looked around, trying to think of what she should do, she remembered the time she'd felt like this before – when that intruder had been on board and she'd been alone in her room. That same feeling had thrown itself over her now too and instantly she knew what to do.
She shakily began to sing an old song she'd heard a few times growing up – one that seemed appropriate now.
As soon as she began, she felt her fear ebb, and then disappear, and then she heard the voices of four of her friends rise with her and her slipping courage found its footing again.
On the last verse of the song she finally heard a shaky voice, coming from behind her and a still-shivering Homer came out from his hiding place to stand with her. She looked over at him and gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder.
When the song abated the room was silent, save for the hissing of the shadows that stood near the groups.
Nova looked around for the four voices she'd heard join her and soon found them near the entrance of the engine room.
She couldn't see them very well, but she knew that one of the voices had been Feria's and she was glad that her old friend was here to help now. It looked like it would be up to the six of them – and God Himself – to right this ship and get her on her way again before it was too late.
There was a horrid pounding on the door to the Leader's quarters. It was so loud it roused him from a half-way descent sleep.
Feeling annoyed at the intrusion, he got up and received his uninvited visitor.
To Desslok's surprise, at his door was Krypt, one of his brother's old advisors who had remained on Desslok's council when it had been re-created after the Usurper's banishment.
"What is it, Krypt?" he asked without ceremony.
"Sir, there is a most disturbing report coming from Gantz's fleet." Krypt announced, eyes wide, face full of a terror the Leader did not understand. "They're all dead, Leader – every one of them."
At this Desslok's eyes widened, "How did this happen?" he asked, "Was it the Eratites?"
"No." Krypt shook his head, "No one knows what happened. The only reason we know anything about it is that the ship automatically generated a warning when all her crew died. It was a safety feature, so that -"
"Yes, yes, I know – so that should one ship fall prey to such a disaster that any following them would not be destroyed as well." The Leader interrupted the violet-skinned man.
"Yes, Sire." Krypt looked down, feeling stupid for assuming the Leader's ignorance, "But it was not just one ship in his fleet. The entire lot sent a warning – every single ship."
"I see…" Desslok said, face blank, not wanting Krypt to know just how disturbing this news was to him. He had been prepared to sacrifice Gantz's fleet to destroy the Eratite ship, but he hadn't expected anything like this to happen. An unknown enemy had just snuffed out over a thousand lives in his charge, and he didn't like it one bit. "You may go, Krypt."
"But, Sir, what am I to tell – "
"Tell no one anything." The Leader said, sharply, "I will inform the affected parties when the time is right. For now, we must wait. There is nothing more Gantz's fleet can lose."
Krypt nodded slowly, "Yes, Sire." Then he left the Leader's quarters in sober silence.
Once Krypt was gone and he was alone again, Desslok crossed the room and took a seat at the small table that stood next to his bed.
He looked up.
There was Iscandar, faithful as she always was. She stood in her usual place, floating just out of his reach. He glanced at the Interface lying on the table. It was dark, as usual.
On a whim, he slipped it on, hoping that he might speak with Starsha about this disturbing event, but when he put it on, the Interface did nothing.
He sighed and set the thing back down. He felt a weight settle on him as the reality of the hundreds of deaths that had just occurred – deaths he was responsible for - settled over him. He hadn't been the one to kill them, but he had been the one to send them there. He'd been the one who had insisted they follow that cursed ship until the end – though he'd hoped it would be the end of the Eratites, not his own men.
He pounded a fist on the table in frustration. When would this nightmare end? When would he be able to finally tell his people they would live another day and that there was a new home waiting for them? When would the darkness finally leave him alone?
The sensation of hundreds of eyes boring into his soul prickled down his spine. He looked all around the room, knowing that somewhere he would find the all-too-familiar presence of the thing haunting him.
Just before he found it, he stopped, not wanting to see its hideous presence again. He turned away, reaching out for the one other thing that mercifully gave him some relief from this living-death he now found himself mired in.
He picked up the bottle and poured an ample portion of the sharp-smelling wine. At first he sipped it slowly, then he felt the presence in the room drawing closer and he downed the rest of the drink and poured another, which he drank with just as much haste. He repeated this until he didn't care one bit about much of anything.
Nova took one courageous step towards the black phantoms that loomed before her. She thought she would be terrified, but she wasn't. As soon as she took that first step, it was like something else took over her body and she moved easily towards the dark spirits.
She was vaguely aware of the sound of other footsteps following her, but even if her friends hadn't come, in her heart, she knew she would have been alright.
"The Meddler has deserted you," the deep voice rumbled.
"I don't know who you're talking about," Nova replied.
"The one you call 'Starsha of Iscandar,'" came the response.
"She has not meddled in anything; she came to help us in our time of need," Nova said to the thing.
"Ah, but she is not merely your helper. She is your protector too," the voice rasped bitterly.
"She has put herself between us and danger before, but that is because she cares what happens to us," Nova countered. "She has only done what a friend would."
The voice growled, "She is protected by the Most High. We cannot touch her, but that protection is not on you, puny servant of the Enemy."
"We'll see," Nova countered again. "You have no power over me, foul creature." She extended an authoritative finger towards the crimson-eyed shadow, which was now forming into a repulsive, human-like shape. "In the name of Jesus, the Christ, leave this ship."
The shadow melted and in convulsing screams cursed her as it disappeared from this world and returned to the fires of its master.
Nova thought, with their leader now gone the horde might slink away in defeat.
She was wrong.
At the demise of their leader, the rest of the things coalesced into one gigantic mass, melding themselves together to create one enormous mountain of death. She watched as the formless mass took shape. First, the long tail oozed out of the glob, then two hind-legs, followed by a scaled back and neck. Then the front legs and talons morphed out from the darkness. The whole transformation culminated in one terrifying dragon's head.
Razor-like teeth jutted from its mouth, and though she knew the beast could not touch her, Nova also knew that it would strike as much fear into her and her companions' hearts as it could until it either debilitated them and won, or until they banished it back to its lair.
Nova looked around. The sight that met her bolstered her courage. To her right there stood the old engineer and the ship's executive officer. On her left, Homer, Feria and Conroy all stood tall in defiance of the thing that had taken their ship by force.
"Let's end this," Conroy said, giving Nova a look of hard determination.
"Ay, lass," Orion's voice came to her.
"Big lizards don't belong in here," Feria said in her usual, straightforward way.
"Miss Forrester, I suggest we do this together," Sandor offered.
Nova nodded, and began, her eyes boring into the demon-horde as she spoke, "By the power of the slain Lamb, Jesus Himself, we bid you go." She looked at her friends, letting them know it was time for them to join her.
All six voices lifted up the call and the great dragon that stood before them screamed as it melted away into the night, wailing its defeat.
The engine room fell silent – though it was not the silence of death that filled it mere minutes ago; it was the silence of peace.
A moment later, Orion's voice came to her. "Well, let's get her back up and runnin'. Now that the gremlins are all outta the engine," He said before heading straight for the main control panel, Sandor right behind him.
Nova sighed in relief and smiled sending up a prayer of thanks for her shipmates and their new-found bond.
In the sublevels of the palace on Gamilon, Miezella was thrown off her feet and hit the ground so hard she felt the impact reverberate through her entire body.
She almost blacked out from the pain, but held on to reality just long enough for the agony to pass.
What had just happened? The question rang through her as she picked herself up off the floor and ran back to her sister.
Terror ripped into her heart as she looked down into Mirenel's lifeless eyes.
"Those devils!" she nearly screamed the exclamation of hatred for the Eratites, "They killed her!" she reached down and gently closed Mirenel's blank eyes.
Tears began to roll down Miezella's grey cheeks, falling onto the table her sister had just died on. The stress of the severed connection had been too much for the younger Jirleian this time.
Miezella had known that such a day might come – a day when she and her sister might come up against such a foe as the Eratites and fail to destroy them; a day when the shédim they summoned would be thrown back into the fiery abyss, causing both women to be forcibly disconnected from the dark spirits. She knew that such disruptions were hard on Mirenel, and every time it had happened before Miezella had wondered just how much longer her sister could withstand the strain.
This dark night… she had her answer. This summoning of the shéd host had been their last.
"Now… I am truly alone…" she thought as memories from long ago washed over her. She saw the deaths of countless others of her people, her parents, friends, strangers… The Bolars had seen to it that none remained alive on Jirel – none that is, except Miezella and Mirenel.
That was the day the Malha Guardiana had come to Jirel. She'd seen the sisters, mere children at the time, and taken a liking to them. She'd spared their lives, telling them that, should she tire of them, that she would kill them.
Then there was another day, not long afterwards that a woman, blue-skinned with red-gold hair, had come. She had made a bargain for her, Mirenel, and another girl's freedom. The bargain had costed the woman her life.
Miezella Celestella had no idea who that woman had been, but she'd been thankful for her intervention that day, and though she and her sister had one day, years later, returned to the Malha and become her servants, Celestella knew that she owed her life to that red-haired woman. If she had the chance to repay that debt one day, she would.
Celestella sank to the floor and wept.
Long into the night, she rose from her mourning and picked up her sister's body, carrying it back to their quarters as clandestinely as she could.
Hours later, when the sun rose, Celestella pretended to find Mirenel's lifeless form, lying on her bed in her portion of the sisters' quarters.
She called security and was rewarded by the prompt appearance of several personnel who examined the room and the body thoroughly.
After a while, the men and women told Miezella what she already knew. Her sister had died from a massive heart-attack.
Celestella nodded at all the right times, and cried when she should have. It was a solid performance and she was glad when it was over and Mirenel's body had been taken to the mortician.
Celestella spent the rest of the morning thinking about the Eratites and how she could possibly stop them now that her sister was gone, and her shéd-wielding powers had been blunted beyond proper use.
"What can I do now, Malha…?" Celestella thought, sitting down on her bed and absently turning on the planetary news.
Starsha felt a warm hand touch her forehead and she opened her eyes.
"The ship!" she exclaimed, sitting up so fast it gave her a headache and made her vision spin.
"It's fine," came the reply. "The Interface continued to broadcast images from the ship. Several of the crew cleared out the engine room a few minutes ago. They're fixing the ship right now, and the rest of the crew are waking up."
"Thank Yahweh," Starsha sighed, relieved that her sudden absence hadn't tipped the odds in the shédim's favor. "Alex?" She looked up at the Eratite in confusion. "What're you doing here?"
"I came to help you… if you needed it. Which, it looks like you didn't…" he replied quietly, then added the last thing the Iscandari queen thought she would hear him say. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you a question like that – not now, with everything going on…" He looked away from her.
"No, Alex." Starsha tried to reassure him. "It's alright. It isn't that I don't appreciate you asking…" She paused, looking for the right words. "It's… I can't accept your proposal. My God is important to me, and He doesn't have that same importance to you."
Alex looked at her, hurt. "I don't get it," he said, "I don't understand you at all."
"I'm sorry…" the queen replied quietly, realizing for the first time something she'd suspected, but not truly known until this moment. "But that is not the only reason I cannot accept."
Alex stared at her. "What then? Certainly there can't be someone else – wait, it's Adam isn't it."
"No." Starsha very nearly laughed at this assertion. The young man was nice, but that was as far as her affection for him went. "It is not Adam who holds that place in my heart."
"Then who is it?" Alex asked, seeming to have completely forgotten the near-peril his brother's crew just weathered.
"I – " Starsha fingered the Interface, still on her hand, "I cannot tell you that, Alex. Just know that, I refused a proposal from him as well. I have a charge to keep, and it is to remain here until Yahweh Himself moves me."
Alex raised an eyebrow at her. "You are the oddest person I have ever known, Starsha."
The queen smiled sadly. "I am sorry to be so troubling to you. You have been of great help these past months, and I thank you for that. Adam too has been very generous with his time. When the ship departs, after they have taken the Rophi Shamayim, I believe that both of you should be aboard."
Alex nodded, "I agree."
"Now, perhaps your brother's ship will have some peace for a while," Starsha said, returning the conversation to the recent ordeal.
"I hope so," Alex agreed. "I don't ever want to see anything like what was in those images again." A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of the awful beast he just witnessed the crew face. The dragon's eyes were blood-red and starving, longing to consume his soul with one glance.
"I pray you never have to," Starsha agreed. "Though Abaddon is nothing if not persistent. What lies in store for your brother's crew, I cannot tell, though I am glad my sister is there with them. At least I have that consolation."
"Your sister?" Alex asked.
"Yes, Astra. She is the one who carried our message to Erats. She is the reason your people knew to come here."
"I can't wait to meet her then," Alex said, some of his anger from earlier abated.
"It will be good to have her home again," Starsha said, slowly standing up. "I must rest now. My journey has left me drained." She turned to leave.
"Starsha," Alex called after her.
She turned to look at the Eratite.
"If you change your mind about that proposal, please, let me know," Alex said, a pleading in his face.
"I'm sorry, Alex." She shook her head and slowly walked back to the elevator that would take her to her quarters. The last thing she heard was a sad silence as Alex absorbed her final rejection.
Episode 38 References:
* "Victory through Grace" by Fanny Crosby
To hear the version I love most, click here.