Phoenix, p.3
Phoenix, page 3
part #1 of Queen's Avatar Series
As young and fragile as Verdid seems, she’s probably the most dangerous opponent in a serious negotiation, as she has held the office of Sen’Haillar Spy Mistress for millennia. This is likely the reason she is attending today rather than the third member of the Council, the Sen’Galahad Queen of Ice. Such replacement is perfectly acceptable with agreement from all council queens. For this meeting only, Verdid is the third council member. Facing both the Queen of Mind and the Queen of Dreams in a negotiation would have been worrisome. Today though we are only discussing short term support for Aldeea, hardly the stuff of a coup.
We all wait for Allisa Sen’Vollar to open the meeting. Her position at the middle of their table implies she will lead the discussion.
“The Council recognises the valour of Aldeea’s defenders,” calls the Queen of Light. I feel included in the formula. If she had said “Aldeea’s people,” as the greeting normally requires, she would have left me and the local Chapter out. This way she recognises she’s not talking only with Aldeea, but also with at least two other houses, mine and Sen’Shahar. Which is probably the reason Warden Kleist brought us in.
“Before we proceed, I would introduce Yallona Verdid Sen’Aesir, who has an update and a warning.”
So, the name of Queen of Dreams’ new embodiment is Yallona. I’m concerned regarding the warning. Any warning from the Spy Mistress can’t be a good thing. This will make the negotiations for support easier, but at the price of future misery expected to come. That Allisa’ Sen’Vollar opened the meeting in this way means the matter is serious indeed.
“Queen Sen’Dorien, people of Aldeea,” started Yallona Verdid, in a voice as youthful as her appearance. “The Sen’Aesir have reasons to believe we can expect a major Scourge raid this cycle or the next. We think the main thrust will be further spin-ward, nevertheless we are issuing warnings to all the Worlds of the Wall. Despite our efforts it will not be the first time the Scourge would strike unpredictably.”
The Scourge have been ruthless predators, striking at the Dominion planets for the last 20,000 cycles. In all this time they have attacked countless colonies along our rim-ward frontier. We have strengthened the worlds in their path to form The Wall.
Our enemies have transformed these raids into a sick game, a challenge of wits. A challenge where they risk very little except their mindless enslaved drones, and our Worlds of the Wall risk losing everything.
“Would the Council consider sending reinforcements?” asked Head Defender Telimon.
“The Council can’t afford to spread resources all over the Wall,” responded Allisa Sen’Vollar. “As my fellow queen mentioned, we have no way to predict where the attack will come. Your situation is better than most.”
The Queen of Light was correct on both counts. The Council can’t spread thin and wait for the blow. We tried this in the past, with horrendous losses. Aldeea also benefits of the direct support of not one, but two queens, one already at the Citadel. Not to mention the nature of the said queen, whose destructive force I prefer not to think about.
“I will mobilise immediate Sen’Dorien support in case of an attack. No doubt Sen’Shahar will do the same.”
This is not what Defender Telimon requested from the Council, but as far the Aldeeans are concerned the result is the same. I see no point in haggling for additional ground support, that was unlikely to happen. Better to seize the moment and get economic concessions. My only concern was committing the Sen’Shahar queen in her absence, but I had no doubts that she will be willing to defend her fief.
“I trust the Council’s Reaction Force is ready to intervene as soon as we confirm an attack.”
“We are,” responded the Sen’Vollar queen.
“Now back to the Council’s support for Aldeea development,” continued Warden Kleist, with a nod towards Merid Koman, his trading Adviser.
The rest of the meeting proceeded as expected as the Council was already in the mindset to divert additional resources to the Wall. The Warden got more or less what he wanted and considering Verdid’s news, we asked and received additional materials needed to expand our military presence on Aldeea.
✽✽✽
Later that night I woke up at the sound of a cry on the battlements. It was past midnight and the Citadel was silent except for the rhythmic clatter of the druan beasts in the courtyard. The gate guards knew better than to shout unless something serious happened.
I donned my work clothes and quickly arranged my hair in the mirror. My chambers were next to Alon’s apartments, so it didn’t take long to join him in the small reception room.
“Ellandra, you shouldn’t wake up each time we have a crisis. I’m perfectly capable of managing them. I was doing this long before you came to live with us.”
“What’s the beauty of having a visiting queen at your beck and call, unless you take advantage occasionally.”
“Double meaning aside, by the way that was low, you’ve never been at anybody’s beck and call, my Queen. Sometimes I wonder even how amenable you are to Council’s decisions.”
None of us is fully amenable to Council’s decisions, none of us is blatantly disobedient either. All twelve queens are represented by the Council and join it by rotation. But there is competition between the Great Houses, and it was not unheard of a queen using the Council to advance her own interest. We have all been comrades in arms and co-rulers since ages ago, but never completely aligned.
Steps sounded in the corridor. Moments later two guards entered escorting a dishevelled Haillar with a bloodstained overcoat covered in ash.
“Lord Warden, Alzur is no more!”
The town of Alzur was a settlement three druan rides north of the Citadel, home to some three thousand Haillar. It wasn’t a major trading centre, but it wasn’t small either. It would take a natural disaster or a major raid for the town to be destroyed.
“What happened?” asked the Warden, all his previous good mood instantly gone.
“Marauders, my Lord. A surprise night attack, a large force of them and we lost the gate to trickery. Most guards died defending us, people fled, some were taken. But the town is lost. I’ve seen it burning.”
“Are you a guard?” asked the Warden.
“No, my Lord, a druan trader. That was my luck. I had a beast free on the green, jumped on it and rode as fast as I could.”
This is a tragedy I can hardly comprehend. As opposed to the Scourge, strangers who were plaguing us for millennia, marauders were a local problem. They were simply Haillar who lost their way and rather than work for their good and for their neighbours’ good, preferred to live plundering and taking by force whatever they could. I was aware of their existence on Aldeea, as a collection of small bands based in an archipelago north of the Citadel. They would have needed a major, well-coordinated raid to take over a town the size of Alzur.
In the past I’ve brought down destruction all too often in defence of the Haillar, and I’m sick and scared of it. But I would not hesitate for a second to bring destruction onto these people, who knew our ways and rejected them to live in blood and violence.
Such abhorrent behaviour is not new, nor is it specific to Aldeea. In the past we had discontent Haillar choosing this way, fortunately very few. I’m sure the other Worlds of the Wall have them too, even if called differently. I’ve never heard of a band big enough to destroy a town. The taking of Alzur meant the Aldeean marauders were a lot more numerous than we thought, also much better organised. With the Scourge threat looming, we could not afford to have them at our backs.
The Warden was of the same mind:
“We need to hit back. Hopefully we can take advantage of them being together in one place.”
“I can do the searching,” I volunteered.
“You will do none of it, my Queen. This is an Aldeean matter. I have scouts trained to do this, including Sen’Haillar adepts.”
Here we slip into “my Queen” again. I understand where he’s coming from, though. For Alon Kleist policing his backyard is a matter of honour. He would feel weak and look weak to ask me for help in solving the marauder problem.
I feel ashamed of my insensitivity. I should have thought better before offering to help in such a blatant way. I know the adept Alon was referring to, Heron Sen’Diessa, an experienced field agent with Spirit Affinity. Probably more qualified to do the job than I am, as he had lots of practical experience scouting on Aldeea and his Affinity is the one specifically required for the job.
✽✽✽
Next morning a pleasant surprise is waiting for me. A call request from Astrid Reith Sen’Dorien, my Sister. She leads the other half of the Sen’Dorien Dichotomy. She’s the Queen of Order.
What outsiders have difficulty to understand is that opposite Affinities always come together. I’m much closer to Reith than to any other queen. The two of us, Ashar and Reith, fought and survived together in the samun Annihilation Wars. While not being biological kin, we were Sisters even before we became Sen’Dorien queens.
I tidy up and, when ready, I touch the communication stone. The shimmering portal flickers briefly and here we are, face to face, Chaos and Order.
“Greetings Reith,” I call.
“Greetings Ashar,” she calls back.
For everybody else we go by our formal names or, if feeling informal, by the current Avatar names. Only between us we use our personal names, the names we knew each other since we met for the first time. I vividly remember the moment, after so many cycles. It was the day we came of age together, each strong in opposing Affinities.
“How are things at home?” I ask.
Reith is managing our Great House in my absence, a daunting task involving control of funds, resources, people and troops. It’s telling in a sense that I’m the more adventurous one, gallivanting to the Wall, while Reith, the Queen of Order, keeps things in line.
It often happened this way, though not always. I had my time running our House, and I can’t say I liked it. And Reith had her full measure of death and destruction, same way I did. People easily remember Chaos is a force of destruction, but few realise until too late that Order can be deadly too.
I receive an account of our assets and resources. It’s more of a pretext for us to talk than a real need to stay in touch with the latest decisions taken by Reith. Towards the end we come to the real reason for the call.
“Verdid Sen’Aesir sent me warnings about the Scourge,” Reith said. “She mentioned you have contracted out our house for immediate support in case Aldeea comes under fire.”
I should have thought calling Reith first as a matter of courtesy, not that there was any doubt House Sen’Dorien would step in if the Aldeean Citadel comes under attack. Contract or no contract, household troops fight where their queen is, as their first commandment is defending her. My very presence guarantees their presence. Probably the reason Alon puts up with me.
“We expect an attack over the coming cycle, latest the next. When the time comes, we will need to boost up Aldeea’s defence. The local chapter can’t provide more than ten Adepts, that’s what makes Aldeea such a tempting target for the Scourge.”
“They know you are there.”
“They know I can’t be everywhere.”
“Take care Sister, I don’t want to start educating a new Avatar.”
We both start laughing. We have no nursery educating new Avatars, they always come with the same faults as the original.
CHAPTER 4
The doorbell chimed.
Peter checked who the visitor was and opened the door.
“Hi Liz!”
Doctor Elizabeth Hamilton waltzed in and made herself comfortable on the couch. She was Peter’s best friend, her friendship with him dating since well before the mission, back to their college days in Cambridge fifteen years ago.
A petite redhead covered in freckles, Liz Hamilton has always been a firebrand. Peter lost count a long time ago of the number of pranks she set up, the number of parties she organised, or crashed, or sometimes both organised and crashed.
A decade of medical career and the rigours of the space exploration training programme did nothing to tame her spirit or soften the mischievous glint in her green eyes.
Of course, Liz Hamilton was exactly the sort of person to show up with a smuggled bottle of wine a few hours after they successfully arrived at destination.
“And how exactly did you manage to take a bottle of wine aboard the space-ship preparing for a six-months mission?”
“Correction my dear, I brought along two cases of wine aboard said space-ship. Can you imagine the amount of medical supplies needed for a six-months long journey? And besides, medical journals confirm that wine, in moderation, is beneficial for the health of our crew.”
Having fond memories of the night Liz Hamilton, then an 18-year-old freshman, succeeded in drinking the captain of the rugby team under the table, Peter had his doubts that Liz and the journals were in agreement on what was the exact meaning of the term “wine in moderation.”
“The civilian side of the crew decided to celebrate our successful re-entry in normal space roughly where we were supposed to arrive, courtesy of a well-known mathematics genius, and I mean Lt. Egorova. Unfortunately, the Lieutenant declined to take part, quoting some obscure Navy regulations, so we had to move to the next best option. Hence I came to bring you in.”
“Thanks god, I thought your intention was to finish that bottle between you and me.”
“It would have been selfish, yet I don’t mind hiding it away for a romantic evening, if you wish.”
“I’m afraid I can’t let you cope with a potential medical emergency, hours after polishing a bottle all by ourselves. Last time I checked you were the only available doctor within fourteen hundred light years.”
“I’m a responsible astronaut, I would have satisfied myself with a glass, the rest of the bottle was for you, silly.”
Five minutes later Peter, Liz and the smuggled bottle were at the entrance to the port-side galley used by the civilian crew. Navy preferred the other galley, on the starboard side, dubbed “the mess.”
“So, you organised a party all by yourself.”
“Never by myself, I had help. The geologists rearranged the hall according to my specifications, while your sweetheart in the astronomy crew took care of the music and special effects.”
“Taa - daaa.”
The galley was unrecognisable, having morphed into something resembling a club. Liz’s helpers have cleared the centre to make a dance floor and tastefully arranged three or four tables on the right side of the counter, itself transformed into a bar. Besides Liz’s bottles, several kinds of drinks were available in laboratory glasses.
The lights were off except for a few discreet spots in a corner. On the opposite wall the astronomers replicated the fake window from the bridge, displaying real time the night sky in all its splendour. The effect was stunning, giving the feel the room was at the edge of the abyss with nothing between humans and the cosmic void. Soft music was playing in the background.
Milena Vladici, the author of this audio-video miracle, has taken over the DJ station made up from bits and pieces of scientific equipment. She was putting together a play list in partnership with Ewan Salter, the junior geologist.
Milena and Ewan looked like the perfect couple except they were not; they both had significant others on Earth. First time they met Peter was briefly infatuated with the astronomer but soon learned she was engaged. Later he met and befriended her fiancé, Tim Stratton, also training for an exoplanetary mission. This didn’t stop Liz to tease him mercilessly about his early crush, though only when nobody else was around.
“Here comes Peter, the man of the hour!” The introduction was made by Charles Swanson, the third Brit in the civilian team, a reputable biologist and, in Peter’s view, a total douche. Charles seemed to have an opinion about everything and everyone. He also had no compunction about sharing it, no matter what. Peter treated him with conventional courtesy, but Liz cut Charles off from their first meeting and the relationship went downhill ever since. The past two months spent together on Endeavour were really challenging for both.
The person who help them enormously was Christine Ferraud. She not only calmed them down but also convinced Charles that a feud with the ship doctor can somehow impact negatively his future academic career. Peter did not understand how Christine managed to pull this piece of mental gymnastics. To make things worse, Liz’s second degree was in biology, so she would work together with Charles should they find extra-terrestrial life. Sharing the honour of being the first genuine xeno-biologist with the person one most despised would make interesting bed mates indeed.
Dr Fiorelli sat at a table discussing something with Hank Mertens, the senior geologist. They could not make a more dissimilar pair. Mateo Fiorelli was a bookish Italian, always polished and prim. By contrast Hank Mertens grew up at a ranch in Idaho and adopted a trademark country boy image, always slightly dishevelled. Thinking again and considering the time Hank might have spent to cultivate his dishevelled look, maybe he and Mateo were not as dissimilar as one would initially believe.
The only Navy officer present was Lt. Cdr Valentin Borodin, Head of Engineering and probably the only member of the military crew who didn’t give a toss about the book. Not only an excellent engineer but also an expert in the hyper-drive technology, Commander Borodin was likely the most indispensable member of the crew, Captain Holt included. Other than ignoring regulations he considered silly, his status had no impact on the Russian’s demeanour, the engineer being regarded as the most approachable senior officer. Peter could not stop contrasting him with Charles who, with no notable contribution until now, could not miss a moment without exposing his wisdom.
Peter and Liz came close to the counter. She swapped her unopened bottle with one half empty and deftly filled two glasses, one for each of them.
