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Episode 79: In Triumph's Wake
"Sandor, you're out of time," Derek stepped away from the XO's station, resigned to their defeat. "We have to find another way out of this. We have to –"
"Wildstar," Orion interrupted from over at the engineering terminal, "We're gettin' a strange reading from the engine."
Sandor's eyes lit up, "Send it to me."
The old engineer nodded and piped the information over to the science station. Sandor took one look at it and announced triumphantly, "It's the frequency!" The XO looked from Derek to Mark, "Once we broadcast it, we'll only have a matter of seconds before the Gamilons figure out what we've done. They'll adjust. We have to stay away from that beam once we get out of it."
"But how did…?" Wildstar looked at Sandor puzzled.
The science officer shook his head, "I don't know, Wildstar. It came from the engine core, so perhaps we can thank Starsha when we finally get to Iscandar, but I can't say for sure what the source of the information is."
Derek nodded to Sandor, then to Mark. He turned his eyes back to the science officer, "Broadcast it now."
Sandor sent the command, and in a few short seconds, they were free of the irresistible force pulling them down below the surface of the planet.
Mark flew into a series of evasive maneuvers, avoiding any obstacles in their path.
"Enemy ships incoming," Miki announced, "Three dozen fighters and counting. ETA, one minute."
"Dash," Derek turned to face the acting combat chief, "Tell the gunnery crews to fire at will. We have to take out whatever they're using to broadcast that beam. If we don't, they'll use it to snag us again when we try to leave."
With a curt nod, Dash relayed the instructions.
Explosions bloomed outside the ship as the Argo's guns hit their mark.
"Sandor, where's that beam coming from?" Derek asked.
"I'll need another minute to trace the source, but, I can give you an approximate location," the science officer replied. "Here," Sandor motioned for Derek to come over and look at his screen.
Wildstar stepped back over. "Near that tower?" Derek pointed to the tallest building in the underground area.
"Either there, or very near it," Sandor nodded.
"What's this?" Derek asked, pointing to an odd shape affixed to the ground several miles away from the tower.
Sandor shook his head, "I have no idea, but that's approximately where our trajectory was taking us."
"Get me an exact location on the beam's source. If this other mystery object gives us any trouble, we'll make it a target, but until then, let's steer clear of it."
"Enemy ships are retreating," Miki's voice broke in again.
Derek's eyes narrowed, "What're they doing?"
"Captain, something else just appeared on the radar," Miki said, her voice wavering, "I can't classify it. It could be a ship, but I don't think it is. I've never gotten readings like this before."
Derek left Sandor and quickly stepped over to the radar station. He stared at the screen, eyes wide as he saw what Saijo was talking about.
"Can you get any data on it at all?" Derek asked.
"Just this," Miki replied, pointing to the readout displayed next to her main screen.
Derek studied the information intensely.
He looked up from the screen and peered out the front viewport, his eyes narrowed, "It's a cloud." Derek looked back down at the radar, then over at Sandor, "Any sensor readings on it?"
The science officer made some adjustments at his station and replied without looking back at the deputy Captain, "It's made up of a combination of sulfuric acid, and some of the substance running all over the planet's surface. It's highly corrosive."
"Mark, avoid it as much as you can," Derek instructed.
Mark nodded and set his attention on staying away from the toxic cloud.
"Where did it come from?" Derek asked.
"It appears to be a naturally occurring phenomenon," Sandor replied, "The state of this world is tenuous at best. The planet's water cycle is still trying to function, but instead of absorbing the water from the surface, some of the toxins are evaporating and being recycled into rain like water."
Derek stared out the front viewport again, seeing for the first time the state of the city below. Something sharp bit into his conscience for a second. "Dash, instruct the gunnery crews to avoid damaging the city."
The gunnery chief acknowledged the order and passed it on.
"Wildstar, another cloud is forming right above the ship," Sandor relayed.
"How much time do we have before it starts dropping on us?" Derek asked.
"At the rate it's going, no more than two minutes," the XO replied.
"Mark, get us out from under this cloud."
Derek could feel the ship lurch to one side as Venture made haste to get them out of danger.
"Anything on the source of that beam?" Derek asked Sandor again.
The science officer shook his head, "Not yet. The computer's still working on it"
Derek looked outside one more time, noting, to his dismay the abundance of buildings clustered around the tower. If they demolished the structure, much of the surrounding area would be destroyed, along with anyone still unfortunate enough to be waylaid there. He didn't understand why he suddenly held any compassion at all for these people. After all, they'd slaughtered his parents and brother without remorse. What entitled them to his mercy now?
The pang of loss cut through his heart as an image of Nova's face appeared unbidden. If she were here, he knew she wouldn't want him to spread death without cause. The way she'd spoken to the pilot Melda when she was on board attested to that.
He wanted to be done with this ordeal altogether – to leave, get to Iscandar, and go home.
"Sandor, I need that location now," Derek stepped over to the science station again.
"Just got it, Wildstar. The source of the beam is near the top of that tower."
Derek studied the science officer's screen again. An image of the tower glowed on the display with a pulsing circle indicating the source of what drew them here.
"Is the beam still active?" Derek asked.
"Yes," Sandor replied.
Wildstar took a moment to think, then stepped away from the science station and faced the rest of the bridge. His jaw clenched, he looked out at the tower again, then back at his crew. Frustration built in him as he felt the war in his heart between what he had to do and what he knew he would regret doing.
"Dash…" He finally said, not looking at the gunnery chief, "Target the location Sandor sends you."
"Locking on now, Wildstar," Dash replied.
Derek stepped over to his seat at the front of the bridge and settled down into it slowly, waiting to see the brilliant blue fire of the Argo's main guns.
"They've gotten free of the beam," one of the techs announced.
"How did they –?" The Leader was cut off by another tech.
"Incoming fire from the Eratite vessel – heading straight for the emitters."
"Raise the shielding," Desslok ordered. He stood in the center of the room, surveying the men and women working tirelessly to protect this tower.
The floor shook with the impact of the Eratite's onslaught.
"Transfer control of the city defenses to me," the leader instructed. An instant later, a set of controls mounted on a tall, thin base rose from the floor before him. It locked into place with a click. The instant it activated, he placed both hands on it.
"Overriding access designations. Control transferred." The words echoed through the war room.
Removing his hands from the controls, he waited for half a second as Belarus's varied weaponry reestablished their connections with the defense grid. When all weapons were ready, he activated the controls.
The instant he touched them again he was surrounded by a column of holographic light. Everywhere he looked he could see weapon after weapon, ready to follow his every command. In addition to Belarus's defenses, he could also see the Eratite ship, poised to attack again. Just as he was about to strike back, another brilliant blast of energy careened toward the beam emitters.
Desslok reinforced the shielding, and the wave of enemy fire dissipated when it struck the energy barrier. He narrowed his eyes in frustration as he noted the state of the shield. The Eratite onslaught, even though they'd only struck twice, rendered their protection nearly useless. The barrier was quickly fading away. Even now, it dwindled to a mere thirty percent of its original power.
He gritted his teeth and began a counterattack. He launched a carefully aimed wave of missiles, sending some of them directly at the ship, and the few to either side of it to account for their defensive maneuvers. He felt a sense of satisfaction as several missiles hit their mark.
While the Eratite ship was still reeling from the attack, he launched another offensive, this time using several of the tower's energy cannons.
Great beams of green laser light streaked toward the enemy, cutting through its bow like a knife through thin paper. He was just about to launch a third attack when the Eratites struck again.
Faster than he thought the lumbering ship could manage, it swept around the side of the tower, coming to within several thousand meters of the structure, and fired directly into the emitters.
The shields failed immediately and the entire building rumbled with the impact. The ceiling fractured and debris rained down on all of them. Screams of panic and yells of surprise echoed through the room. A few pieces of the ceiling bounced off Desslok's shoulders and back, but he didn't look up, instead he hissed at his cursed enemy and flung another wave of missiles at them, sending a plume of smoke spilling from a fresh gash in the ship's gut.
The sight sent him back to another battle, waged years before. Sword in one hand, and gun in the other, he'd shouted obscenities at an army spread out before his less-than-substantial forces. The battle was nothing short of brutal, but the men and women at his command triumphed. When it was over, he'd looked on the shattered remains of the enemy base, smoke belching up from its scarred heart and vowed that he would never run from a fight unless there was no other way to save his people.
The same insults on his lips, he activated an energy-miner and trained it on the enemy ship, and then he threw one last attack at the Eratites. If he succeeded, they would never have to worry about that cursed ship again.
"Damage to all lower decks; there's a fire in the hangar, and the mess hall. The pilots are seeing to the first one, and the KP crew to the second," Sandor informed.
"Captain, there's another missile on the radar, but this one –" Miki swallowed hard, "– this one is off the charts."
Derek bolted out of his seat and darted over to Miki. He peered over her shoulder. "Great, not another one of those," he muttered.
Miki turned to look at him, "Another one of what?"
"That's the same kind of missile they launched at us when we first left Earth," Derek replied, then immediately said to Dash, "Hit it with everything we've got. If it makes contact, we're dead."
"I need some time. It's too close. We won't be able to destroy it before it hits us," Dash replied, making several quick adjustments to the weapons systems.
"Mark, get us away from that thing," Wildstar directed, going back to his chair.
The missile surged toward them. Venture steered the ship as far away from the incoming ordinance as he could.
"The missile's changing course. It's slow, but it's turning to follow us," said Miki. An instant later she followed up with, "There's another cloud forming up ahead."
Derek clenched his fist in frustration and pounded his armrest, "Dash, where are we on shooting that thing down?"
"Targeting now," the gunnery chief replied. "Firing first round."
Derek could feel his heart pounding through his chest. "It can't end like this," he muttered to himself, "I won't let it." Then he ordered, "Dash, keep firing, and don't stop until that missile is a slag-heap."
With a, "Yes, sir," Dash sent the gunnery crews into a flurry of action. Both the main guns and the pulse lasers belted out volley after volley of fire, some hitting their mark, others missing terribly.
"More clouds directly to starboard," Miki warned, "and more forming to port."
"Mark, take the ship down to a lower altitude. We have to go under that storm," Wildstar directed, all the while feeling the presence of the gigantic missile on their tail.
The Argo dove down below the caustic sky as toxic rain began to fall, scarring the hull with even the barest touch.
"Hull integrity is falling," Sandor reported, "That rain is almost as bad as the missiles."
"How's that city down there still standing?" Derek asked.
"They probably have some kind of shielding," Sandor replied offhand, "But we don't have that luxury. If we get caught in that rain for too long, we'll melt."
"Dash?!" Wildstar called back to the officer.
"We should have blown it out of the sky by now. Something's messing with our power, "came the reply.
"I'm getting another signal from the tower," Sandor reported, "The magnetic beam is gone, but now something else is pulling power from the ship."
"Orion?" Derek turned to the old engineer.
"Her power level's fallin', lad. I can't keep it from droppin'," Orion replied.
Derek looked around the bridge again. Everyone looked genuinely concerned, and, not for the first time, he found himself wishing that Captain Avatar were on the bridge.
The weight of command settled hard on his shoulders and he decided to take the only option he had left. "Mark, change course again. We're heading for the tower."
Alarms blared all around him as the structure continued to crumble. Even though the building was losing its integrity, Desslok's control over the city defenses remained firm. He rerouted emergency power to what little shielding they had left and used it to keep the damaged palace tower mostly intact.
Something above them exploded and the far wall collapsed, sending several men to their deaths.
"Krypt, evacuate the palace," the Leader ordered, "This battle isn't over, but I will not risk any more of my people dying to win it. This war has cost us enough."
"But, Sir, you cannot stay here alone –" Krypt began.
"I shall stay where I please!" Desslok shot back angrily, "Do as I ask!"
Cowering in fear, Krypt backed away from the Leader and started gathering the remaining techs.
The Leader silenced the structural integrity alarms. When they were quiet, one more warning blared. His eyes shot to the radar, and he cursed as he realized the reason for the alert.
"There's no time for an evacuation. Get everyone to the center of the tower," Desslok directed the still-fearful Krypt.
The Councilor nodded quickly and herded the men and women out the war room door as the Leader issued an emergency order for the entire city to take refuge in the underground bunkers, and for all palace residents to come with haste to the one place that promised their safety. When all the techs were out, the Leader activated the automatic defenses and turned to leave the war room
Just before he stepped over the threshold, Desslok looked back over his shoulder, narrowed his eyes, and growled at the oncoming Eratite ship as it filled the main viewscreen, loathing it more with every inch it advanced.
"Almost there," Derek muttered quietly, "If we can just get that missile off our tail…"
"It's still following us," Miki volunteered, "and it's gaining ground fast. If we don't shake it soon…"
Derek could feel the anxiety building on the bridge, "How long before we reach the tower?"
"Sixty seconds to impact," Miki replied.
Derek steeled himself and began to count silently. Twenty seconds passed in agonizing silence, then another ten. With half a minute remaining, Derek glanced over at Mark. A sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, and several beads ran down his face. There was a dark ring around his green uniform collar. Derek glanced down and noted similar patches on his own uniform. He hadn't realized he'd been sweating that much. He flexed his hands and felt the dampness in his gloves. He considered taking them off, but decided there was no point.
Twenty more seconds passed with no one saying another word until the ship's alarm system started to drone," Impact in ten seconds.
"Nine.
"Eight.
"Seven.
"Six.
"Five."
"Mark, pull up! Now!" Derek directed.
Mark yanked as hard as he could on the steering yoke, but the ship wasn't responding fast enough. Derek grabbed for the controls and added his strength to his friend's, hoping that their combined effort might make this most daring of gambles pay off.
Wildstar could almost feel the ship groan as it hoisted its nose up into the air and shot toward the sky, missing the tower by mere meters.
For a moment, Derek could feel the g-forces pulling at his face, then the internal gravity adjusted. Half an instant later, the ship shook as the shockwave from the missile colliding with the tower rolled over them, sending the ship careening upward until Mark could jerk her back into line. Pieces of the planet's crust tumbled down, crashing into the ship, as acid rain came down in sheets, pelting the hull again.
"Mark, get us out of here," Derek directed.
Venture steered the ship out of the deadly rain, pulling away from the remains of the tower.
When he saw the destruction left in their wake, a knot formed in his throat as he managed to say to the officers, "Let's go. They won't be stopping us from getting to Iscandar now."
As the bridge crew all slumped in relief, Derek rose from his chair and left the bridge without making eye contact with any of them.
Head down, and hands stuffed into his pockets, he walked quickly down the crowded halls. Shouts of joy and relief met his ears, but not once did he look up to see the revelers. He couldn't join them in their gladness. He wished he could, but the growing ache in his heart forbade him. A few minutes later, well before they rose past the planet's crust, Derek walked into the tiny, empty, corner observation deck and looked down.
Where once there were dozens of buildings dotting the ground now lay an ugly crater, just like the one back on Earth the day his parents died. He pursed his lips, then bit his tongue. Squeezing his eyes shut he fought back the deep sense of sorrow that washed over him.
He hadn't wanted to do it, and he could almost feel Nova's disappointment in him. If she were here, he knew she would be inconsolable, and for that reason, he was glad she wasn't.
"Victory…" he looked out over the devastated remains of Gamilon, "tastes like ashes."
Episode 80: The Way to Iscandar
Celestella stood before the holographic transmission of her Mistress, Aurelia Guardiana, her jaw hanging open in disbelief, and her eyes wide in surprise. Both shock and hurt pierced her heart as she heard the words.
"Miezella Celestella, you are hereby cut off from the blessings of the Malha and the spirit of Diana. You have failed in this most important task," the Malha growled, her possessed eyes bulging red with fury, "Go where you please, but do not ever show your face to me again."
The hologram flickered out, leaving the Jirelian standing alone on the bridge of her tiny ship.
Jolts of pain shot through her legs as she crashed into the floor. Hot tears stung her face, but she did not reach up to wipe them away. They fell to her uniform collar, soiling it. She stared out the small viewport in front of her without so much as the shadow of an idea about what she would do now.
She and her sister were the last of their kind. Without Mirenel, she was truly alone.
She sobbed aloud, unable to keep back the grief any longer. The ship echoed with her wails of despair. Blindly, she stood and entered a set of coordinates into her navigation computer. She sat down heavily in the bridge's single chair and sent her ship into a warp.
Colors and shapes whirled around her, congealing into baths of brilliance and lakes of sound. If anything stood out to her during the warp, she could not remember it when she came out on the other side.
Unfamiliar stars floated in the void outside. She looked at them, but didn't care. There was no place for her here, or anywhere else.
With the same despondency she felt as a child, trapped in that prison of death on her homeworld, she gathered her knees up to her chest and hugged them fiercely. Nothing was right anymore – nothing at all.
Derek was still on the observation deck when the Argo cleared Gamilon's surface and began her journey through the ruined world's atmosphere. He couldn't shake the guilt of the past few hours, but he found it in himself to push it down just enough to hide it.
His back to the window, he leaned against the railing. Hands in his pockets, he stared down at the deck plates. They were all the same size and shape, and they all shone the same dull gray. At least it looked like they'd been cleaned recently.
He turned his attention to the railing spread out on each side of him. It too was shiny and polished, without a hint of neglect.
The young deputy captain sighed. He scuffed his boot against the deck a few times, and then stood up straight and started toward the door. He was five steps away from the exit when he noticed something reflected in the smooth surface of the door.
With a curious tilt of his head and a raised eyebrow he turned around to look out the viewport again. When he saw clearly the thing mirrored in the metal he took a step back.
He hadn't seen it during their fight for freedom against the beam that dragged them here. He wondered how any of them missed such a sight.
Hanging in the void just beyond Gamilon's atmosphere was the most beautiful world he ever saw. It glistened a brilliant blue, and a great ocean wrapped itself around the planet like a familiar blanket. The only discernible break in the teeming waters was a large green island, accompanied by several smaller ones. It almost looked like a canvas with one brushstroke painted on it.
"A twin planet?" Derek murmured. This was the first double-world he'd seen. He knew they existed, but the only evidence of them to cross his path was in textbooks and scientific journals, many of which he hadn't actually read.
As he looked on, he noticed the planet looming just a bit closer.
He slowly pulled out his communicator and sent a brief message to Sandor on the bridge, "Is our trajectory correct?"
"Yes," came the short answer.
"Is Iscandar much farther?" Derek sent back.
His eyes widened again at Sandor's next response, "That is Iscandar."
Wildstar stared at the planet. With slow, deliberate steps he crossed the small space separating him from the clear pane on the other side of the railing. He pulled off the brown gloves he wore most of the time, and hands shaking, he reached up and placed a warm palm on the cold glass.
Condensation fogged around his hand and he felt the cold seeping into his fingers. In awe and relief he stared at the spectre.
"We made it," he whispered, "We're here, Nova. Not even Gamilon could stop us."
Bitter tears stung his eyes and he took his hand away from the glass to wipe them away. He sniffed back his sadness and tried instead to think about how glad he should be. They were here. It was almost like seeing a unicorn, or some other majestic mythical creature. Telling others about such an encounter was nearly impossible, because the only ones who could understand it were those who shared the experience.
He swallowed hard and the thought crept into his mind, "She didn't tell us… Starsha never mentioned Gamilon and Iscandar were twin planets…"
A chill wriggled its way into his heart and the bitter root of suspicion threatened to take hold. Then, just like during the battle on Gamilon, he could picture Nova's face and the exact look on it.
He hung his head, ashamed of his sudden doubt. Would the EDF have sent them all this way if Starsha told them this at the beginning? Perhaps she anticipated their fear, or perhaps the omission of the information was simply an oversight. Either way, the Argo would soon have the hope of Earth's healing stored within it.
Wildstar glanced down at his communicator again and sent one more message to Sandor, "To Iscandar."
Now on the bridge, Derek stared at the blue planet as it rose to meet them. The Argo descended through Iscandar's atmosphere at a painfully slow pace. The great island he'd seen from orbit drew closer every moment. It was bigger than he first thought. From above, it looked deceptively small when compared to the planet's vast ocean.
As they drew nearer, Wildstar could make out hundreds of tiny islands dotting the waves. Many of them were large enough to house several hundred people, and some were the size of large cities.
He looked away, the tension of the battle on Gamilon easing off, only to be replaced with the worst case of anxiety he ever felt. He swallowed hard to quell the nervous energy. He tapped one finger incessantly on his armrest, earning him a raised eyebrow from Mark.
Derek ignored him.
The tension built until he felt the ship hit water. The sensation was so stunning he jerked his head up in time to see a small wave wash over the Argo's bow. The water sloshed about on deck, but most of it rolled over the sides.
He inhaled a breath, closed his eyes, and exhaled slowly. When he opened them again, he forgot to take another breath. Jutting up from the great island was a magnificent tower, crafted in crystal. It glistened in the midafternoon sunlight. Something about the construction seemed familiar, but Derek couldn't place it.
"Wildstar, we're being hailed," Homer reported, "Audio only."
Derek tugged at the bottom of his uniform shirt and swiped at the sweat stains, suddenly feeling inadequate. He cleared his throat, "Well, let's hear it."
Homer adjusted the equipment so the message would be broadcasted over the whole bridge.
"– Starsha of Iscandar greet you. We are relieved at your coming," the Iscandari's voice, clear as the polished tower crystal and as beautiful as a summer sunset, echoed through the room, eliciting the attention of all who heard her.
"We are glad to finally be here," Derek managed to reply.
"Your ship will find safe harbor in our bay. The Sea of Iscandar has always been a welcome place for travelers, and it remains thus," the Queen replied. "I am sending you the coordinates for a dock deep enough to accommodate your ship. You should receive the information momentarily."
"I've got it, Wildstar," Derek heard Sandor confirm.
"We're on our way," Wildstar said.
"I am glad," Starsha replied, "I will see you upon your arrival."
"Channel's closed," Homer said.
Derek nodded, the urge to get to port almost overwhelming. "How long until we arrive?"
"Twenty minutes," Mark replied.
Derek nodded again absently, his eyes fixed on the glowing tower shining brightly in the distance.
The bridge fell silent, and Derek could feel everyone's gaze converging on their destination. With every minute, they drew closer. When they were ten minutes out, he could see a welcome shore spread out before them like open arms ready to receive a loved one come home.
A wave of loneliness washed over him, but he couldn't find it in himself to be sad. Their long journey was halfway over, and the promise of calm seas lay ahead.
Derek's footsteps echoed on the steel steps as he led a group of bridge officers down to the pier. He stole glances around the harbor, taking in bits and pieces of the scenery. Everything was surreal. Looking at Iscandar was like seeing Earth before the bombings started.
The officers, Sandor, Venture, and Homer said nothing as they followed him. Derek glanced behind him several times, noting the other three men's wondering eyes.
Derek looked down into the ocean on either side of the walkway. Fish teemed in the clear blue waters, and it was all he could do not to stop and stare.
Finally, they made it to the end of the pier and began a long walk up a gently sloping hill. When they were half way up, the silhouettes of two women, framed by the glow of the setting sun appeared up ahead.
Derek's eyes widened and he quickened his pace, eager to meet their welcoming party.
He climbed all the way to the hill's peak, Sandor, Venture, and Homer right on his heels.
Derek held up his hand to shield his eyes from the sun.
"Starsha of Iscandar?" Derek inquired cautiously of the women, whose backs were toward them.
The taller woman, clad in a long blue dress with sleeves that covered her elegant arms, turned toward them at the sound of Derek's voice.
"Indeed," she replied, her face just as lovely as her hologram, if not more.
As Derek watched, the Queen reached out and placed a hand on her companion's shoulder. This second woman wore a dress much like the Queen's, the only difference being the color. Instead of brilliant blue, this woman's garments glowed violet. Starsha gave her a nod and the woman slowly turned toward Derek and his friends.
When he saw her face, Wildstar drew in a sharp breath and barely managed to whisper, "Nova…?"
The long-lost officer smiled brightly as tears of joy streamed down her cheeks, "I thought I'd never see any of you again."
"It's good to see you, Miss Forrester," Sandor stepped up to the young woman and extended his hand. She took it gladly and laid her other hand over it too.
"I can't tell you how glad I am to see all of you," Nova replied. "After being stuck on that ship so long, and then held on Leptopoda... It's just good to see friends again." She let go of Sandor's hand and brushed away a tear.
"We have to tell the rest of the crew," Mark said, ecstatic.
"We will, but that will have to wait," Sandor replied. "They will all know eventually anyway, and right now, we have a lot to attend to."
Derek took a hesitant step toward Nova, but before he could say anything, Homer dashed past him and threw an arm around Nova's shoulders, "So how exactly did you get here? The last we heard, you'd disappeared during that scuffle back in the Rainbow Nebula."
"It's a long story," Nova replied, her eyes fixed on Derek, "And I'll tell you everything when we have time, but we should get to the Palace. Queen Starsha has a lot to tell you, and we need to start loading the Rophi-shamayim."
"The what?" Venture asked, confused.
"The Cosmo DNA," Homer supplied.
Mark raised an eyebrow at the comm officer, but Homer ignored him.
Derek managed to look away from Nova just long enough to notice the Queen's sad smile.
"I'm sorry for the interruption, Queen Starsha. We will not delay you any longer."
"No, it is quite alright. I too understand the joy in seeing one whose presence I have lacked for so long," the Iscandari replied, her eyes soft. "But, you are correct, Derek Wildstar, in that we must continue our business. Time is passing, and we must use it to its fullest if Erats is to flourish."
The Queen turned and slowly started toward the crystal tower they saw earlier.
"There are others here who also wish to meet you," Starsha said without explanation.
Wildstar and Venture looked at each other with raised eyebrows.
"Who do you think they are?" Derek whispered to Mark.
"A council maybe?" Venture shrugged.
Sandor brushed past them, following the Queen, Nova, and Homer, who was still talking with the Lieutenant.
"Don't know," Derek replied, then shrugged too and set off after Sandor.
Captain Avatar sat quietly in his cabin, gazing out over the quiet harbor. The waves lapped against the hull, sending the ship swaying gently back and forth.
There was peace, in stark contrast with the last several days.
His eyes drooped with weariness, but he held them open. They were finally here, and before they left, he had a task to complete.
Avatar withdrew his communicator and sent Sandor and Dr. Sane a message, "We need to bring her."
Several minutes passed without a response, then the first reply came.
"I'll inform the Queen," Sandor's message read.
"We're ready," Dr. Sane's reply popped up just after Sandor's.
Captain Avatar nodded to himself as he read. Very few of the crew even knew of Astra's existence, and none of them, except Sado, Sandor, and a few others knew her body was on board.
Keeping the Iscandari's presence from the crew proved difficult many times, especially during his conversations with Wildstar.
He heard about both the pilot Melda and Queen Starsha mistaking Nova Forrester for Princess Astra, and he wanted to tell the crew on those occasions, but he held his peace instead.
When the Lieutenant was abducted, he felt responsible. After all, if the Princess' death were more widely known, perhaps the misperception would never have occurred.
"Conroy and Noble will assist you," the Captain replied to Dr. Sane, then to Sandor he said, "Please give the Queen our most heartfelt gratitude and sincerest regrets that we must return her sister in this state."
"I will tell her," Sandor replied.
Avatar sighed and leaned back in his chair, tucking his communicator into his pocket.
At least Nova was here, safe, though why the Gamilon Leader sent her here to begin with still did not make sense to him.
Now that they knew Iscandar and Gamilon were twin planets, the increase in resistance over the past few months made more sense, and the conflict with General Lysis seemed more like a defensive measure than an outright attack.
Why Gamilon chose to attack Earth, he didn't know, but after seeing what remained of their world…
He took his communicator out again and displayed an image of what Earth looked like before the bombings, "I understand the desperation." He stared at the hologram, "But I would never commit genocide to restore my home."
As soon as he said it, a wave of guilt swept over him. Hadn't this ship just dealt a deadly blow to what remained of Gamilon's people?
He closed the image and bowed his head, his face in his hands.
"God, forgive me for what I have done in the name of peace."
They followed the Queen across an open field filled with wildflowers. Off to one side, a cliff jutted out over the ocean. The grass rolled in waves as wind whispered through its blades. More than once small animals darted out of their way.
Derek glanced at Nova many times during their trek, but always looked away when she chanced to look back at him. Homer still walked beside her occasionally asking questions about Iscandar.
The longer they walked, the more Derek wanted to run up to Nova, hug her tightly and tell her how much he'd missed her, but just when he'd gathered the courage, they reached the Palace.
Starsha led them through a beautifully ivied arch and into a courtyard dotted with well-kept flowers and fountains.
They followed the Queen up a short set of stairs and through a tall, regal door.
As soon as they stepped inside, Derek felt inadequate.
A great room, as wide as the tower spread out before him. On either side of the expanse, elegant stairs wound their way upwards. The outside walls were made of crystal, and he could clearly see the area surrounding the Palace.
Derek watched as Starsha went to stand in the middle of the room. The glow of twilight filtered in, making the bits of red in the Queen's hair smolder like embers. He glanced over at Nova and noticed the same thing. He'd always thought her hair a plain blonde, but in the light of the setting sun, he could see ever so dimly the glowing auburn strands.
He looked from the Queen to Nova. They really could have been sisters, the resemblance was so pronounced.
"Follow me," Starsha interrupted Derek's thoughts.
The officers followed the Queen underneath the arching stairs, all the way over to the other side of the room.
Starsha reached out and touched the clear wall.
Derek raised an eyebrow slightly, wondering what she was doing. A second later, a door appeared in the wall, and the Queen stepped through it, motioning for all of them to do the same. Nova was the first to follow her, looking not at all surprised at this behavior.
Homer, Sandor, and Mark stepped in, followed by Derek.
Wildstar didn't know what to expect, but it wasn't the sensation of his gut shooting up into his throat as they rose quickly up the side of the tower.
A minute later, the strange elevator stopped and another door appeared in the wall in front of them. The Queen stepped out, quickly followed by everyone else.
Derek watched the expressions on everyone's faces. Homer looked a bit spooked, Sandor, intrigued, and Mark, confused. He turned his eyes to Nova, and this time she caught him. She smiled softly for a moment, and then looked away.
Starsha started forward, leading them down unfamiliar corridors. As the sun disappeared below the horizon, soft blue light began to glow from the walls, not like a torch or lantern, but more like a field of fireflies.
Finally, the Queen stopped in front of a closed door. She reached out and laid her hand on a small panel beside the portal. Exactly two seconds later, the door swirled open and Starsha entered, immediately stepping off to the side to allow everyone entry.
They all filed in, Derek last. He heard the door whoosh shut behind him. The furniture in the room looked somewhat different than he was used to, and it smelled a bit musty with disuse.
He was about to ask why they were here when he heard another door open and someone else enter the room.
"Hey, little brother, what have you been up to?"
Derek drew in a sharp breath of surprise, and with tears streaming down his face he rushed over to his brother and threw his arms around him, "Alex! I thought you were dead!"
The elder Wildstar ruffled his brother's hair and hugged the young man tightly, "No. Thanks to Queen Starsha, I'm still alive, and Adam made it too."
The brothers' hug broke and Derek pulled back to see Alex's navigator standing a few steps back.
"You – you're Captain Avatar's son," Derek pointed at Adam in disbelief.
"I am," Adam replied, "Where is he?"
"He…" Derek began.
"He is still on board the Argo," Sandor supplied, stepping up beside Derek, "He will be overjoyed to see you again."