The History of the Decline and Fall of the Planet Trade Organization/Volume III

This is the third volume in the series of The History of the Decline and Fall of the Planet Trade Organization. It consists of accounts of what happened after Cooler left for Earth and never returned. Nitro, the brother of Cooler and Frieza, tried to rule as a galactic king during this time as various governors and military generals from the other regions of the former Planet Trade Organization desperately fought with one another to gain power and wealth. All chapters are written in the first-person perspective. Chapters 1 and 2 take place before the final chapter of the previous volume in this collection.

This volume's theme song is Identikit by Radiohead.

The previous volume in this series, volume II, can be found here. The next volume in this series, volume IV, can be found here.

Planet Trade Organization Leaders: Start
This section will detail who is in charge of the Planet Trade Organization as of the start of this volume:

Chapter I: An Evanescent Imperium
The snow was falling lightly that day. My soldiers stood in neat rows, lined up down the streets in battalions of three hundred apiece. There were more than sixteen thousand battalions – the full might of Planet Frieza 068. More than three hundred thousand of them had died since I’d come here – the price that had to be paid for rebellion. I had rooted the rebels out, crushed them, and executed their leaders in front of everyone. Now, those who remained were loyal to me and the Planet Trade Organization.

They presented themselves to me on the outskirts of the war-ravaged capital city. I’m sure many of them were shivering. I eyed them, scanning them with my scouter. Every living being on this planet was before me now. With the flick of my wrist, I could destroy them all. But I would not. Governor Lychin’s troops would be serve my father well. I knew that much. Now we simply waited for him to arrive, with ships enough to take us from this cursed place.

068 wasn’t too cold for me, just remote and ruined. I wanted to return to the living universe; I wanted to see my father again. This planet was a dead end, so to speak. The days and weeks of rooting out rebels had been tiresome, foreign work. I wasn’t used to raising my power level so, and fighting – killing – was something I had not done in a long time, either. Those who remained knew who I was. I was not their governor: I was Glacial, the nephew of King Cold. I was a member of the royal family – they knew this and feared me. I was all that was keeping them from killing each other.

Surveying the ranks, I focused in on a blue-skinned, horned alien who was giving me sour looks. She stood near the center of the army, in a detachment on the left side of the massive group. Flying over to her like a hailstorm, I landed, my feet spraying snow around. My dark crimson cape billowed in the frosted air.

“Soldier,” I said, “is there a problem?”

“No,” she said, eyeing me boldly.

“No, my lord,” I corrected her. Squeezing my fist as I raised her into the air, I brought the alien a few feet off the ground with my telekinetic powers. “That is no way to speak to a member of the royal family.”

The alien was thrashing violently as she hovered. The men and women around her did not so much as move. Their eyes remained trained on the city ahead; they did not want to join this rebel. Snow fell around us, like soft tears. The blue-skinned rebel was clawing at her neck, her arms flapping uselessly. I squeezed my fist and watched the skin around her throat explode. A waterfall of dark blood shot out of the gaping wound, flowing down the alien’s armor to land in the snow, where it puddled and smoked.

They respected me, but they did not love me. I was not their governor.

Turning swiftly, I flew back to my command center, a raised platform at the head of the army. There, Governor Madron, several lower-ranking officers, and my guards awaited me. I landed, brushing the snow from my shoulders, and faced the army again. “My fellow soldiers, good morning. I hope none of you are finding this day too cold…” They hummed with mixed energy in response. I nodded my head. “So now, let’s get down to business. You all were left under the command of Governor Lychin – the finest and largest army on any planet in our empire. But now here we are – I, Prince Glacial, lead you. It’s time this army was put to work. I tell you now, my fellow warriors, our empire is in a state of chaos. With the deaths of Frieza and King Cold, the legitimacy of the Planet Trade Organization is being questioned. But we won’t allow that, will we?!” I roared.

“No!!” they grunted back in a deep rumble, shaking the very ground.

“Governor Lychin will be joining my father once the ships arrive. You will return to taking orders from him, and he will take his orders from me. No further insubordination will be tolerated. I’m sure all of you have seen what happens to rebels.”

There were murmurs and barks of understanding. I exhaled deeply, puffing up fog in front of my face. “The ships will be here soon. Roll call will occur once they arrive; we will process each battalion individually. You are free to leave, but at the next sounding of the bells,” I said, motioning to the large automated loudspeakers hovering above the command platform (there were hundreds more like those in the city), “everyone is to return to this location and form up again as you are now. Anyone who does not heed the call will be executed as a traitor. Do I make myself clear, soldiers?!”

“Yes, my lord!” they screamed as one.

I turned swiftly to face the installation governor. “If that is all, let us return to the governor’s mansion to discuss…”

“My lord,” Madron said, bowing deeply, “I’m afraid something has happened.”

“What?!” A dread feeling bloomed in my chest. I knew this had been too good to be true. “Is it Cooler?”

“No, my lord, nothing of the sort. It appears, however, that Captain Torlini has returned with his security fleet, and he’s demanding to speak with you.”

“Captain Torlini distinguished himself in the war against the Nikkarins. He fought in the vanguard with your father during that last cataclysmic battle,” Madron was saying, as if bored. “He’s the commander of the security fleet that patrols around this area of the empire, though he’s not really meant to guard this outpost in particular.”

“Where has he been?” I asked sharply. “Knowing that space pirates destroyed 068’s fleet… he should have brought all he had here to guard our most important outpost in the region.”

“That is something you two will have to discuss,” the installation governor told me. “I’m sure he’ll join with your father’s–”

“He’ll burn,” I declared. “He should have been here sooner. He’s a rebel, I know it.”

“P-perhaps… my lord.” Madron’s voice sounded unconvinced. “Or perhaps, he’s just trying to right past wrongs…” The governor gave me a look, bowed, and exited the room.

Only my guards remained with me. I didn’t know what Torlini wanted, so I thought it would be best to meet with him first in private, in case he was already with my father, whom I knew would be moving against Cooler as soon as he regrouped with me. “Turn it on,” I commanded the guard nearest the video screen, and he obeyed.

“Prince Glacial. It is so good to see you alive.” The willowy, yellow frame of Torlini came into view. He wore dark grey and crimson robes, obscuring most of his body. But he looked thin and yellow and old.

“Captain Torlini,” I said gruffly. “We have been expecting you for a while now.”

“I got caught up in an… affair, let’s say.”

“An affair?”

“I was hunting demons, with a survivor from Planet Frieza 116.”

I frowned. “I know nothing about what you are…”

“That’s fine, my prince.” Torlini’s words came with caustic flare, though they left little impact. He talked as if every breath was a burst of vapor, to be experienced for a moment before dissolving away. “You want my ships, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“I want that army you have trapped on that miserable ice world,” Torlini said. “If I am to invade Planet Ctaedi, I need more men, and your garrison will do.”

“You will not take my men,” I countered, feeling a flush rising in my cheeks. For the first time, I felt doubt creep into my body. What game was Torlini playing, trying to stand against a member of the royal family? “They will be given to my father, once he arrives, to augment his own army.”

“Is that so?” Torlini smiled. “I remember your father. I never thought he would turn traitorous like you.”

“I have paid for my sins,” I said bluntly. “I am with the Planet Trade Organization again. I’m loyal, and I am here to help our empire survive the coming storm. That’s all you need to know, captain.”

“Are you?” Torlini’s eyes flickered on the video screen, cool and golden. “Or are you going to give your father the men he needs to destroy Cooler?”

I did not let my fury show. “We are loyal members of the royal–”

“Enough. I know you’re a rebel,” Torlini spoke gravely. “You were sentenced to slave labor for the rest of your life for trying to assassinate King Cold. You shouldn’t be here, my prince.”

“How do you know that?!”

Torlini smiled for a moment. “I’m a trusted officer of Lord Cooler’s empire. You have taken over one of his outposts illegally, with the express goal of gifting your father soldiers who do not belong to him. Those are Lord Cooler’s soldiers, and he wants them back.”

“Governor Lychin rules this planet,” I reminded him. “And the governor has left me in control of his army while he’s away. I can do with them what I wish. I am a member of the royal family. I outrank you, captain.”

“You did,” he admitted. “Before you tried to poison your uncle. As for Lychin… that Faerin is gone, returned to his homeworld. There have been rumors about the Faereth… what they are doing… and if those rumors are to be believed, Lychin is just as much a rebel as you. He holds no power any more.”

“That’s not true! He’s not a rebel, and neither am I!” I knew very little of Lychin; I had never met him, never spoken to him. I didn’t know what this Faerin rebel plot was either, but I couldn’t back down now. “I order you to come to the surface to meet with me in person so we may discuss this matter further.”

“You want to take me prisoner, perhaps even execute me in front of the soldiers you somehow managed to bend to your will. Well, I won’t do it,” Torlini said. “A good commander never gives up the high ground.”

“My father’s coming,” I spoke. “He has hundreds of ships. Far more than you.”

Torlini nodded slowly. “Aye, he’ll destroy me, I’ve no doubt about that. Have you heard? Lord Arcterial defeated the rebel Zashisaro in open combat not but a few weeks ago. He’s a skilled battle commander – perhaps the best in the universe. I have no delusions about my own abilities, my prince, nor my fate.”

My prince. There were no words he could say that were further from the truth. “Surrender and live.”

“No.” His voice was tired and resolute. “Today is the day I die in service of my king. Cooler will know what happened here, and he will not forget your treachery, nor your father’s. Lord Arcterial may smash my fleet – I’ve no doubt he outnumbers me twenty to one, if not more. But he will never see you again. That much I can guarantee.”

“What are you saying?” I asked in horror.

“I’m telling you this, Prince Glacial: should your lord father come for you, I will destroy Planet Frieza 068, and all who are standing upon it at this very moment. I’ll kill every one of you, before Lord Arcterial can bring you into his rebellion. Otherwise, I’ll accept your surrender and the return of Lord Cooler’s army to his empire.”

“You’re a coward!” I seethed. “A bloody damn fool!”

Torlini nodded sadly. “Aye, but you can’t hope to stop me.”

“This is madness, my lord. Absolute madness!” Madron wheezed. “Please, we need to contact your father–”

“No,” I replied. “I’m going.”

“You’ll die.”

“Maybe. Help me take off this damn cloak!”

We were in the inner sanctum of the governor’s mansion. All of my other advisors were sitting at the fine okanwood table, from which Governor Lychin had led many a meeting in the past. Guards lined the walls, as silent as stone gargoyles. I had told everyone what Torlini had said.

“Your father is not intending to march against Cooler,” Madron said quickly. “Torlini is the rebel.”

“I can breathe in space,” I mused. “I’m powerful enough to take out warships. I haven’t powered up that much in years, but…”

“There’re too many. It’s too dangerous. Glacial, think! We cannot afford to lose you, damn it!” Madron’s voice was coated in fire. “Not after all I’ve done!”

That was an interesting comment. I couldn’t be sure that Madron was lying, though. But there was something about him… something off. I wasn’t convinced he was loyal. He had acted too casually about the rebellions, and it seemed like before I got there, things had been going great – even with roughly 10% of the base in open rebellion.

“He will destroy the planet. Torlini will never let my father take the soldiers. So either we sit back and watch him bombard us unto oblivion, or we destroy his security fleet. How many ships does he have?”

“Twenty-one,” a thin-lipped, long-necked grey alien sitting at the other side of the table piped up. “Sixteen are of sufficient size for orbital bombardment.

“I can destroy them,” I said.

“Not that many. It’s too much, Glacial.”

I had had enough of these useless sycophants. They wanted me to sit back and watch myself die. I wasn’t going to follow them into such madness. I gave them all one last look and walked out of that room.

The afternoon air was crisp and dry; it was no longer snowing, but piles of melting water blanketed everything – the streets, buildings, and hovercars. I felt the familiar cold, and a shiver coated my body. To the grey sky I looked. Even from the ground, I could see the faint outlines of the largest of Torlini’s ships. They were waiting for me, up there… waiting for me to make a move. If Torlini knew so much about me already, it’s likely he knew what Switchie had done to me. If so… he wouldn’t believe that I had the strength, mentally or physically, to stand up to him. What he had said to me earlier was treason – there was no other way to put it. He was an alien in service to the royal family. I was a member of the royal family. He mocked me and threatened to kill me. For that, he had to die.

I screamed, conjuring up my aura. I would take the soldiers into space with me, if I had to. Thousands – maybe tens of thousands – would die. It was the only way. From behind, I heard footsteps, thick and slippery, echoing off the snow-ravaged streets.

It was Governor Madron.

He looked uncomfortable as he ran, as if that much exertion was beyond his normal capabilities. When he reached me, breathing hard and sweating like I once had while mining stars, the governor wheezed, “Wait, Glacial…!”

I ignored him, returning my gaze to the sky. That was when I saw the ship, small and round and brown-grey, descend from the heavens. “What is that?” I asked sharply. “Who’s coming?”

“I… I… I don’t know, m-my lord…” Madron gasped.

Narrowing my eyes, I stepped back and dissolved my aura, giving the ship room to land. It came flying down without any care, slamming into the snow violently. I raised my scouter, detecting half a dozen power levels inside. None were very high.

The air pressurized out into the cold world, and the ship’s ramp swung down, revealing a bright artificial world within. There he stood in the doorway – a robed, tentacle-faced beast. He nodded to me before stepping out, his hands outstretched like a prophet’s. Behind him, other squid-jaws followed, a dead procession of dark-robed aliens. None were as tall or as powerful as the first.

“Who goes there?”

“Please forgive me, Governor,” the head Quglith said, bowing. “My name is Minister Ctugyol of Planet Ctaedi, often referred to as Planet Frieza 121. Thank you for taking time to see me.”

I glanced at the heavily-breathing Madron, narrowing my eyes once again. Was he the one who gave the minister permission to land? Either way, he was too out-of-shape to say anything, so I looked back to the new aliens and said, “Welcome, Minister, but I’m afraid you are mistaken. I’m no governor. Lychin is away on official business. My name is–”

“We know who you are,” Ctugyol said, his voice sloshing like saltwater. His skin, which had been a milky white at first, was now a bright blue, speckled with shimmering orange – no doubt a reflection of my own appearance. I knew about the Quglith vaguely. Several of them had worked under me before… but I did not know what this one was doing here now. “Prince Glacial… it is an honor to meet you.”

Every Quglith bowed. A chill befell my body.

“How do you know that?!”

The alien grunted and sloshed his face tentacles. I glanced to Governor Madron again, but he did not return the gaze. Did he really expect me not to realize this was his doing?

“What do you want?” The wind blew my cape fiercely.

“We need help. Our homeworld is being attacked by a vicious officer from the empire. A rogue soldier, no doubt, but he is killing us by the millions.”

“Who?”

“He calls himself Captain Torlini.”

I laughed, it was so preposterous. “He’s the one in orbit right now… he’s blockading the planet.”

“We know.”

“And you would like to help me rid the galaxy of that treasonous filth?”

The Quglith nodded. “Please, he has orbitally bombarded our homeworld three times already. Our cities burn, our people suffer…”

“How will you support me?”

“W-we cannot offer ships or soldiers…”

“Then, what are you doing here?”

“Please.” Minister Ctugyol fell to his knees, staining his cloak with snow. “No one has listened… no one has helped. We suffer alone. In silence. Lord Cooler will not listen. I could not schedule a meeting with Salza until the March of next year. You have a large garrison of soldiers here. Stories of your skill and power have spread through the universe, Prince Glacial. You are our only hope… the last one who will listen to our plight… we need you, please.”

I nodded. “Follow me,” I said, motioning to the governor’s mansion behind us, which stood behind an intimidating fence of black metal. “Let’s discuss this inside.”

Madron looked at me queerly, but I ignored him as I trooped back through the snow to Lychin’s house. This was an opportunity, I knew. I wanted to destroy Torlini already. And doing so would aid the Quglith… a species my father would need for the impending war. The Quglith were the leading steel producers for the entire empire. They might not have many soldiers or ships now that Torlini had massacred them, but in the future…

“How did you get here?” I asked the Minister and his entourage as we walked back to the building. “Torlini is blockading the planet…”

“Our ships are small and few, but they are equipped with stealth-field generators. Good for quick movement, but not for power.”

“Don’t worry,” I told him, “the powerful ships are coming. I swear to you minister, that, if you trust me, by the end of this day, I will have Torlini’s head for you.”

The bells were ringing.

They were gathered as before, in rows too numerous to count, in that grey-wet cold. I stood in the third floor of Lychin’s mansion, on a little overlook with fancy pink marble balustrades. Nearly five million soldiers, every one of them outfitted in space suits. Soon, they would be following me into the void. Behind, the video screen buzzed and hummed. Only Madron, the Quglith, and my guards were in here with me. We were waiting for my father to arrive.

I thought of Cainus and the others as I stood on that overlook, watching the wind blow the snow about like dancing sand. It was all my fault. They were dead, I knew, every one of them. All because of me. The guilt was choking. I looked away. I would not be so weak as to lose these soldiers too. They had put their faith in a broken Arcosian, a weak man with more bark than bite. My fingers found the wound in my left forearm, brushing over the course, scarred skin. No rejuvenation tank could heal that wound.

I left the room for a moment, on the excuse of needing the bathroom. Once inside that smaller room, I came to the holo sink, which was a button on the wall, below a large mirror. Pressing the button, I released two small orbs into the air. They hummed mechanically and sprayed my body with air and water and foam in quick bursts, cleaning me off. I looked up to the mirror, studying my face in it. I was scarred and my shoulders were lumpy; I looked tired and small and young as a boy. Arcosians age slowly, aye, but I was so small and starved-looking in my fourth form. I looked sickly and exhausted.

Collecting my thoughts, I came to the realization that I would have to attack. Try as they might, my counselors – chiefly Madron – would not have their way. Many would die. That was how it had to be.

Back in the conference room, I noticed the video screen was on, flashing. “What’s going on here?”

“It’s Torlini! He’s jamming your signal, trying to control when you can see anyone else on the same frequency.”

“Why is–”

At once, the screen flashed on, and the image of Lord Arcterial was crammed into the frame-of-view rather comfortably. His skin was a dark shade of purple – a sign of drinking or rage, I knew. I had a good guess as to what had made his face go like that. “Where is he, damn it?! Where’s my son?!”

“Father!” My voice was high and cold, all elegance and Arcosian dignity. The large lord’s face soften, though his eyes grew larger.

“G-glacial… is that you?”

The screen went fuzzy. “He’s playing us,” I whispered, my own face flushing with heat. “He’s trying to anger me. It’s worked.”

Madron pleaded, “No, my prince, no! You cannot go up there! Your army will be decimated… you will die!”

“It is not so easy to kill an Arcosian,” I told him. “And if I do not bleed, then by what right do I command these warriors?! They want to fight just as much as I do!”

“You will die,” the alien said quickly. “Y-you cannot hope to…”

I felt something slide against the back of my neck, and at once, my vision went blurry. I stumbled forward, grunting. Above, the screen returned. My father was peering eagerly at me, his only son. “Glacial!” he shouted uncertainly.

“Father… please… you have to kill Torlini. He’s a rebel. He wants to destroy the planet. Don’t let him!”

When I caught my breath, I noticed my skin was tingling. My head felt like it was full of blocks of katchin. I swerved and fell over, crashing into the table. Around me people were moving – running. My bodyguards were being savaged by the Quglith; the squid-jaws brandished retractable energy pikes from under their robes and speared every one of my guards.

They died screaming. I didn’t hear a word.

Madron had fled, leaving his blood to splatter across the expensive red wood door. I tried to stand, felt my muscles twitching, and collapsed again. Minister Ctugyol glided forward and reached out a slimy hand. I faltered and did not take it.

The ground shook violently. The glass from the windows shattered instantly, raining over us in dirty little chipped fragments. “No time!” I heard the minister gurgle. His skin color had changed to a deep ash red. He studied me carefully with those huge, rounded eyes of his.

Looking to my right, I saw a bolt of plasma sail across the snowdrifts before landing on the center of one of the outpost’s barracks. The building was lit in one second, and in the next, it exploded in a spire of white-yellow flames. More were coming. I could feel them landing all around us. My father had challenged Torlini. And the cowardly space rebel had kept his word.

People were running, screaming, dying. I heard none of it. I gulped and felt my throat constricting. I looked up helplessly at the minister and coughed. Reaching for his hand, I collapsed forward, my vision blurring as if I was in high motion, the planes of light refracting and bleeding rainbows into strobing ink. My numbness embraced my flesh; I fell into the sweltering dark willingly, as the world was melted around me.

There were two faces swimming before me – my father, and my sister. They studied me as I ran, cheering me on or muttering angrily to themselves. And the further I ran through the dark, the dimmer they grew, until both faded from thought and time, and I was home again… in the starkest, coldest place there was.

Chapter II: Blood and Duty
I never meant to find that bastard lizard before my son.

We had sent out scouts, to Zashisaro’s homeworld of E’an, to Planet Frieza 068, to Planet Frieza 043, and I kept a steady rotation patrolling the perimeters of my fleet, in case the damn traitor tried to take me by surprise. So far, there had been no signs of Zashisaro, nor my brother’s stolen fleet. Cold was dead; his ships now rightfully belonged to Cooler, though I hoped my brother’s son would leave me some of them as a reward for bringing him Zashisaro in chains.

The scouts to Planet Frieza 043 returned first, bringing with them news of the refueling outpost – no signs of Zashisaro. That was good. We would stop there for seventeen hours before setting out on our final destination: Planet Frieza 068.

My commanders were stoic officers, brooding as I was over this latest turn of events. My back still ached from Icer’s fury, and I knew sooner or later, it would come to blood between us, much as it would between Cooler and Nitro. Cooler, in all his arrogance, had threatened to kill Nitro on more than one occasion, yet he had never acted on that boast – he always seemed to talk recklessly and act cautiously. Was that for our own amusement? Did he not trust us with his true intentions? I cared little. My nephew might be the rightful ruler today, but he would not sit the throne for long. I had come too far. It was my time. By the end of this long campaign, the Planet Trade Organization would be mine, or I’d be dead. There was no middle ground.

Planet Frieza 043 was a gaseous world with orbiting refueling stations spinning circles about it like leal moons. The ships in my fleet were hundreds strong, bolstered by the meager reinforcements Cooler had given me. He knew I could defeat Zashisaro, so he had held back most of his fleet, for he correctly guessed that should battle be waged between Zashisaro and myself… Cooler’s own ships would lead the vanguard. He was not as stupid as his younger brother – I’d give him that.

As it was, I was hoping not for war… that is what the scouts were for. Admirals Ersi and Ravin stood at my side as we felt my flagship – the Absolute Zero – slide into dock. I stood at the great looking window, watching the stars melt like snow against the pitch black expanse. The lights of the dock blinked blue and white with obsessive fervency. I thought of Frost, my sweet daughter, and her queer lover. They would find no demons in Icer’s iron mines. I wondered if it had been a good idea to send them at all. I could have used her counsel right about now.

“I say we take only a small expedition to 68,” Ersi breathed. “You’ll get there faster, and–”

“No. Zashisaro could be waiting in ambush. He may know about Glacial. If he does…”

“That is a big if, sir.”

“It’s a risk I cannot take. What if Zashisaro is there? What if he has my son? My goal is to lose as few ships as possible. If we arrive at minimal strength only to find the full host of Zashisaro waiting for us and Glacial captured…”

“Aye,” the admiral nodded, shaking his grey-blue head and causing his milk-pink jowls to flap about, “that’s what every good commander wants of their own fleet. But perhaps speed is of the essence here. The faster we secure Planet Frieza 068, the less chance we have of Zashisaro taking your son captive.”

“We should go now,” urged Admiral Ravin. Her voice was thick with confidence, her hair long and and white and hanging in dreadlocks. “Strike before Zashisaro can prepare for us. There’s no chance he’s there waiting. It is time to move… time to gain the high ground. He will not expect such boldness. This is to our advantage.”

I kept no bodyguards, just the company of wise and seasoned battle commanders. Still, Ersi was getting on my nerves, and Ravin was doing her best to match him. I knew what was right; their strategies were foolish. It was a waste to continue this endless babbling debate. “Enough! Leave me.”

The two distinguished officers bowed and exited wordlessly. I knew I had made the old man mad – so be it. This was my fleet, my son, my decision. Ravin would be full of rage too, but her emotions mattered little. These two served me; it was not their place to assert themselves.

I left the Absolute Zero and found the captain’s holding quarters on board the largest of the floating outposts. It was an airy, spacious place, decorated with gilded ivy, walls of multi-colored flowers in vases, and relaxing hot spring pools. The air was sweet, the ambience cool. It did not soothe me, this place. I paced across the marble, my cape flapping behind me, my mind racing like a starving throng of space mosquitoes.

It took seventeen minutes. The bright blue screen on my royal wrist-comm lit up, and my heart pounded like a drum. I took a breath. “Go.”

“Lord Arcterial,” the pin-headed alien squeaked. “All’s clear here! There’s no sign of Zashisaro!”

“Have you done a complete sweep?”

“Yes sir! There aren’t any ships within three light years of the planet. It’s naked, without protection, as we expected!”

I sighed. “Good work, soldier. Let your superior officer know that I want you promoted at once for your excellent recon.”

“Oh… thank you sir! Thank you!”

I cut the communication. Zashisaro was not there. Planet Frieza 068 was unprotected. Was this too good to be true? Had that lizard not heard the rumors of Glacial’s survival? There was an emerald-tinged waterfall cascading down from the golden walls in front of me into the simmering pool at my feet. I was tempted to ease myself inside. I had sixteen hours, after all. My last group shouldn’t report in for hours, I knew. Their mission was the most secretive, the most dangerous. There was a good chance that they wouldn’t even survive it.

The miniature marble statues were of past governors of Planet Frieza 043 – men and women of a variety of species from Cooler’s and Frieza’s regions. They were all dead now, like my older brother. Eventually, Cold would get his statue too… in the corner of my throne room. That day was not yet upon us. My foot touched the water, and I shivered as I slid into the pool. Vapor rose from its surface. I left my clothes and armor behind, and went in naked, with only my mind.

I do not know how long I was in there. My wrist-comm, lying by the side of the pool, blinked and beeped, amidst sweat and steam, and I sighed as I eased myself partially out of the warm waters to answer it.

“Lord Arcterial?” came the fearful voice of another lackey.

“What is it, soldier?”

“Apologies for interrupting you, milord… but they’re here.”

“Zashisaro?”

“Yes sir!” The alien gulped and shivered audibly. “His fleet’s completely surrounded us!”

“I understand.”

I was out of the pool like a space jackal hungry for blood. I had hoped Zashisaro would do this. He was dumber than I had thought. Toweling myself off, I ordered several of my soldiers, on my comm, to open up a channel between the lizard rebel and myself. That request did not take as long to fulfill as I had hoped.

I was alone in my holding area, wiping cool water from my dark skin. And there he was, on the screen on the far side of the room, hanging from the wall like a living painting. His snout was narrow, his teeth bared. His dull-colored scales shone with pale ferocity. I cared not for his attempts at intimidation – he was a rebel, and a poor one at that. Zashisaro did not scare me.

“Hello, Arcterial.”

“Traitor.”

“Good to see you, old friend. Unfortunately, my dear Arcosian, it appears you are in a rather precarious situation.”

“Is that so?”

“Surrender now, and there will be no pain.”

I nearly laughed. “Your arrogance is second to none in this universe.”

Zashisaro shook his head. “I am not boasting, you old fool. I have your fleet surrounded. I could easily wipe your forces out if I wished. You were a fool to come here, Arcterial. I knew you would. Now I have you trapped.”

“You have outwitted me, aye,” I spat with sarcasm. “Congratulations. Now what do you want?”

“Your ships,” Zashisaro hissed over the screen. “All of them, including the Absolute Zero.”

The light on my wrist-comm blinked blue as ice. It was all I could do not to smile. It is done, Lord Arcterial, the message said in a digitized scrawl on my gauntlet’s screen. Zashisaro doesn’t suspect a thing. The lizard couldn’t see what I could. I wouldn’t allow such a thing. This game was over. I had already won.

I feigned hurt; it was easier than I thought. “Meet me… for terms. Please.” I swallowed, looking down. “We need to talk this through.”

“We will,” the traitor replied lustily, much to my surprise. “But know this, Arcterial: you are not your brother. This will not be pleasant. I will take much from you.”

“I did not expect anything less.”

The lizard’s face shifted; he seemed uncertain for a breath. I looked away, staring at the ugly marble statues of past governors, breathing hard. I hoped I looked angry. I was nervous; this was a massive gamble. If he didn’t take the bait…

“In six hours,” he said dryly, at last. My heart was thumping like explosions were detonating inside my rib cage. I swallowed, tried to look as defeated as possible, and nodded.

“I’ll be there.”

“No tricks,” Zashisaro seethed, “or your fleet burns.”

“Aye.”

I cut the communications and smiled. “Wine!” I roared, my voice echoing through the chamber.

A servant came screaming out from around a corner, a platter of of ice wine in his hand, shining silver hovering above golden flesh. This was Euridian spice wine – a delicacy from the other side of the galaxy. I took a glass from the sweating servant, downed it, and took a second. Then, a third was in my hand, and a fourth. I don’t remember the taste of the fifth, nor the sixth. It was all fire, all lightness, all spice. I swore under my breath, and bade the servant away.

“Ravin!”

She was upon my wrist, as a slouching hologram, in a matter of moments. “Sire?”

“Hold the fleet back. There is to be no battle. I will meet with Zashisaro and take him there. Put the ships in a defensive formation – should any of Zashisaro’s rebels wish to join him in death, do not hesitate to help them along that path – but do not allow the fleet to attack otherwise. Do I make myself clear?”

“Very clear, sire.”

“If you fail to heed my words, it will be your life, Admiral.”

“I understand.”

The comm cut out. I took a deep breath, and stepped out of that room, swearing under my breath again. Zashisaro had played a dangerous game. He could be trying to trap me as I was trying to trap him. There was no way to know. But I did know I was stronger than him. If it came down to it – I could defeat him in single combat. But no, it would not. I knew it would not.

I walked out of there, seeking the counsel of my admirals, knowing that no matter what they said, I had already determined what I would do. This battle was as good as over. Zashisaro’s rebellion was at its end, even if he didn’t know it yet.

Tzano smoke drifted up towards the blue-white lights dangling over our heads. Zashisaro had brought a dozen guards with him – his strongest, most loyal men. I had no one. The purple metal wrapped around us in flowery, cramped, curled steel. The recycled air was stifling. Zashisaro leaned back in his chair, puffing smoke and eyeing me like a stalking caecondi. I did my best to make him believe.

There was an energy shield between us, as I had expected. This shield was strong enough to withstand my power, though not for long – but if I tried to destroy it, Zashisaro would have enough time to escape. I took note of all of his guards, looking for familiar faces. Where was my spy? The one who would be risking his life to end this rebellion? I suddenly realized that I did not remember his face.

“80% of your fleet,” the lizard said finally, “and I’ll let you go, Arcterial. I’m feeling generous today. I could take it all, but… Well, I don’t want to humble an old friend too much.”

“Generous,” I mumbled. “How could I expect any less from my brother’s servant?”

“King Cold is dead.” Another puff. Above, the lights flickered. I bit my lip, feeling heat rising against my spine, under my armor. Why was it taking so long? I couldn’t stand this bastard. His arrogance was almost as bad as Icer’s. I felt sick. I wanted to punch a hole through his face.

“He is.”

“Things have changed.”

“They have indeed.”

The torturer’s eyes flashed yellow with indignation. “Stop agreeing with everything I say. It will not help you.”

“Of course.”

“90%.” The alien looked away and coughed into his claw.

He had raised his price in his rage. That was good. It told me he didn’t have a plan – that he was unsure of himself. I eyed him with ire and then nodded. “Aye.”

“That includes the Absolute Zero. I’ll take that as my new flagship, I think.”

Like hell he would. “Very well.”

Zashisaro leaned forward. “What’s the matter, Lord Arcterial? Have you been tamed? Is my fleet intimidating you? Where’s your anger? Where’s your pride? You aren’t fighting me at all over these terms. Surely, you won’t give up so easily.”

This was a small room on a small orbital station. Perchance once this was over, I would burn it to oblivion, like a comet through an atmosphere. The hate in my gaze was real enough, and I let him see that. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“We shall,” Zashisaro coughed, “as soon as you send me my ships. I want them surrendered so my soldiers can take them over.”

“I understand what you want,” I said. “And you will get it. So long as you’re patient, lizard.”

“Careful now, Arcosian,” my opponent scoffed. “You are in no position to insult me.”

He coughed again. I called for more wine. My throat was dry, my mind clear. That was not how it was meant to be, not here, not now. One of Zashisaro’s guards stamped his feet uncomfortably. I made note of him. He was a big man, a muscled man, a warrior in shining silver armor with a cape and born horns sprouting from his sweaty, orange-skinned forehead.

“My apologies, Zashisaro.”

He knew there was something wrong then. Sitting up, coughing again, Zashisaro spat. “What game are you playing?”

I narrowed my eyes in feigned confusion. “What do you mean?”

“This…” he coughed again, bringing a grey-green claw to his teeth, “…this… this isn’t right! S-something’s…” he sputtered, wheezing again. His eyes widened in fear. “Th-the… Tza–” The thin stick of E’an incense fell from his claw onto the floor, where its purple smoke spiraled upwards, snaking vigorously towards the light.

His guards looked to him. I sipped my wine, savoring the spice, and grasped the servant by the arm. The young Sobren girl looked at me in astonishment. “I’m sorry.”

Picking the girl up by a shoulder, I stood and moved towards the energy field.

A small, weasel-faced alien in the back shot forward with haste, afterimaging up to the energy shield’s controls. They could only be deactivated if two people pressed the button on each side at the same time…

There were shouts, cries of panic, and several of Zashisaro’s chosen elite rushed my infiltrator. He bit his lip, landing not two feet in front of me. We exchanged a brief look; I could see the fear in his eyes. He knew what would happen to him if he did this. Without hesitation, the buttons were pressed simultaneously.

In the next moment, the tall, horned guard reached the spy and punched an energy sword through the alien’s back. A spike of yellow electricity shot out from inside his chest, poking upwards like a bent tooth. The spy coughed, spit blood onto the shield, and collapsed.

Energy was building in my hands. I had rarely ever been this angry before. My chest was pounding. I wanted to beat these fools into submission, to make them pay for daring to disobey me.

“H-help…!” Zashisaro called out meekly from behind, clawing at his throat. He was struggling to move; his scales had lightened in color, as if all the blood had been sucked out of his body. Most of his guards turned to face him in instinct, ignoring me – all save for the big man.

“They’ve deactivated the–” the alien tried to scream, but it was too late. The energy shield hummed loudly and sighed as it powered down, and now nothing stood between me and my foes.

I thrust the girl forward into Zashisaro’s field of view, glowing with lambent energy. She exploded in gore and light not but a second later, killing half of the standing soldiers. I got to my feet, coughing. Zashisaro had slumped back against his seat, paralyzed, a look of horror on that feral snout of his. Smiling, I strode up to the big man, the guard with the anxiety and muscles to show for it. A simple punch through his armor ended his life. He tried to resist – as they all do – but he didn’t realize who I was. Yes, my brother was dead, but I yet lived. I – King Arcterial, Lord of the Planet Trade Organization – still drew breath. And so long as I did, there would be no fracturing of our empire. There would be no such rebellions. Cold was gone, but there was at least one man left in this universe capable of succeeding him.

The others raised their fists. Some drew energy between their palms. I casually stared them down as I shot indigo finger beams into their hearts. They fell in unison, creating a grim chorus of sickening noise. Then, it was me and Zashisaro.

“This… is a p-p-parlay…!” the lizard squeaked, sitting in his chair, unable to move. His claws were gripping the armrests tightly, as if he were shooting through the air at light speed. Zashisaro coughed again violently, spitting up bubbling purple saliva. Unable to move, he let the spittle trail down his snout into his lap. He looked afflicted – sickly, even. What could have happened to the poor man? I nearly smiled. “Y-you… c-cannot attack…”

“I can’t?” I cracked my knuckles as I stood over him, a man against a boy. “Why can’t I?”

“The… rules of war…”

“You sad fool.” Turning from him, I spoke into my wrist-comm: “It’s done. Get in here.”

The far door opened immediately. Admirals Ersi and Ravin walked in, their pink capes billowing behind them. An assortment of other officers followed them. They beheld the grisly spectacle in silence. Blood had painted the walls. A dozen corpses were decaying before our eyes, in the dim artificial light. And our quarry – our prized foe – sat before us, unable to move.

“They poisoned his Tzano stick?” Ersi asked gruffly.

“It all went according to plan,” I replied. “Take this rebel from my sight.”

“Won’t you kill him, my lord?” Ravin asked. “To set an example for all other potential traitors in the fleet?”

I wanted to. I desperately, hopelessly wanted to. I sighed. It wasn’t my place. “No. Cooler wants him alive. He’ll deal with Zashisaro himself.”

The lizard’s eyes were large as pale moons, shimmering with terror. I had never seen him so. He was a child playing at war. He didn’t know who he was dealing with. As he stared at me, he tried to gurgle something – some plea or another – but all that leaked out of his mouth was more spittle and blood.

“As you wish, my lord.”

Four guards came forth and bound the rebel with energy bindings, reducing his power level to near zero. He wouldn’t be able to break out of those now. As the guards stood the warrior up, having to hold him (for he was completely paralyzed), I took something out of my pocket and handed it to the captain who was leading this brigade out. “Give this to Dr. Higgs,” I said, handing the fish-faced alien a small glimmering data chip. “He’ll know what to do with it.” I glanced to Zashisaro and then back again to my admirals.

The guards left without another world, their prized prisoner in tow.

“Open up a channel to my brother’s fleet.”

“At once, Lord Arcterial.”

I took a deep breath, grasping the end of my cape in one hand. This was the true gamble – this was the part of my strategy that I didn’t have full control over. Zashisaro had never been an issue. I had a million ways to deal with him. If my scouts hadn’t poisoned his Tzano, I would have taken him out myself. This was never an even fight – it couldn’t be. I had too much battle experience and power to be hampered by that overzealous lizard. But his soldiers… once they learned that Zashisaro had been captured… what would they do? I hoped they would not fight to the end. That would be foolish, and it would cost me ships I needed. I had to be convincing in this speech.

“You’re live, sir.”

“Shipmasters, soldiers, fellow members of the Planet Trade Organization… my name is Lord Arcterial. I am the brother of the late King Cold. Most of you will know me already, some of you may not… but let’s make one thing clear: every one of you has been misled. I do not know the exact lies Zashisaro told you about me, about my brother, about the rest of the empire… but they are all pitiful, slanderous lies. He was a vainglorious commander who saw his opening the moment his liege lord was killed on Earth. He is the rebel, not me, not my brother, not Cooler. And he has been appropriately punished for his actions.” I paused, letting that sink in. Taking a sip of my spiced wine, I continued, “I am offering immunity to every one of you to return to the Planet Trade Organization. There will be no punishments, no consequences for your actions so far. We want you back, and we want you now. Refuse to do so, and I’ll burn your ships out here in the void. Rejoin our empire, and live. Help me on a mission I need you for, and I will honor each and every one of you with medals and treasure and promotions. Scorn me, and you will face my full wrath, as Zashisaro already has. He is gone; you will never see him again. I promise you that. Abandon your loyalty to his failed rebellion, and come back… or, die. It is your choice, soldiers. But know this: I require an answer within the hour from every ship. Any ship that does not respond will be destroyed no matter what. Dare to attack me, and you will be destroyed as well. It is your choice. I am giving you the option to live or die… so choose wisely.”

The communication ended. I wiped my brow and stepped back through the door I had come in from.

“That was good, sir. They’ll be rejoining us for certain!” Commander Salan exclaimed.

“Quiet. We’ll wait and see. And then we’ll go get my son back. The scouts said there are no ships within three light years of Planet Frieza 068. We’ll have an open shot to the planet, especially now that Zashisaro has been defeated.”

“Aye,” Admiral Ersi agreed, his jowls quivering. “I for one cannot wait to see Prince Glacial again! It’s been so long!”

“How long has it been since you last saw your son in person, my lord?” Ravin’s voice was delicate as a summer wind.

“Twenty-three years.” My voice was harsher than I meant it to be. “Cold stole twenty-three years of my son’s life from me. I’ll never get that time back. But I’ll make up for it. Once we’re done here, once we have my son back, we’ll move on Cooler. We’ll take this empire, and proclaim me king… as it was always meant to be. This is my empire, just as it was my brother’s once. We swore a pact when we were young. We would rule – only us. And now my time has come.”

I thought back to that day in the snowy ice cave, the chill around us, our auras flaring up like giants against the rocky walls. Icer had never been like Cold and I. He had been weaker, younger, less certain. I was meant to rule. Cold had been a good ruler too, until he’d become a drunken lout. The same fate would not befall me. We swore a pact in that snow, in blood and ice. This was always how it was meant to be.

“Sir!” Commander Salan exclaimed. “Thirteen ships are moving towards us!”

“Have they hailed the fleet?”

“No sir. Their energy turrets are warming…”

I sighed, raising my head to the ceiling, closing my eyes. Through my eyelids I could sense the artificial light beaming down upon me, washing me in sterilized heat. “So be it,” I said. “They’ll burn with all the rest.”

The scouts had lied: there were twenty-one ships in orbit overhead the northern pole of Planet Frieza 068 when we arrived. Swearing, I stood from my captain’s chair and approached the great looking window. “Who is it?”

“We don’t know sir,” one of them replied uselessly.

“Find out.”

“Hailing now, my lord.”

They pushed their buttons, huddling over their screens. Flashes of white and blue and red clouded my peripheral vision. The air was stale. The overhanging monitor blinked on. There standing before me was an old man – a thin man – wrapped up tightly in robes of grey and crimson. His skin was wrinkled, and at one time it had been yellow. But now he was the color of faded cream, like the hull of a starship that had been battered by a sand storm.

With vibrancy that did not match his appearance, Captain Torlini said, “Lord Arcterial! It is so good to see you again. My name is Captain Torlini. You may not remember me, but I fought with you on Saegar VI – the last battle against the Nikkarins. I was in the vanguard with you, my lord, as we pushed those miserable rodents back to oblivion.”

And yet, all these years, he’d never ascended from the rank of captain. “What are you doing here, Torlini?” There was a glass of spiced wine in my hand, and in the next breath, I downed it.

“Protecting our king’s interests – as you would expect of me, no doubt. It appears a rebel by the name of Glacial has taken over this outpost behind me and decided to take its soldiers as his own, even though they belong to Lord Cooler – or should I call him King Cooler now?”

It was all I could do to mask my rage. “Tell me what you mean, soldier.”

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry for not being clear with you, my lord. The soldiers of Planet Frieza 068 belong to Cooler – that is an indisputable fact. But it appears we have a rebel on-planet who is trying to take command of these soldiers to help his cause of overthrowing the empire. I assume you are sympathetic to my mission, thus–”

“Shut up, you useless sack of meat.”

“Oh.” His eyes narrowed. “I see, my lord. My apologies. I didn’t dare believe Prince Glacial when he told me that you were a traitor like him. I fought with you on Saegar VI… I witnessed your loyalty firsthand, Lord Arcterial. I-I…”

I understood what game he was playing. “Shut your mouth. You dare talk to me like that? I am the brother of King Cold! I am a member of the royal family!”

“Aye, my lord,” Torlini replied sadly, “and now you’ve become a traitor, like your son.”

“Move the fleet into combat-ready formation,” I ordered Admiral Ersi.

Torlini nodded in resignation, lowering his head like a sycophantic animal. “A sensible move, I daresay. One that will surely bring you victory. But know this, Lord Arcterial: should you attack me, I will order my fleet to destroy Planet Frieza 068. We will accomplish our task long before you can stop us, as you well know.”

Like a fire, hate rolled through my body. But I didn’t let him see. It wouldn’t benefit me for Torlini to know how much I wanted him to suffer. “Your claims are baseless. You are in open rebellion, as was Zashisaro once. I think you know what happened to him, do you not?”

“Aye, my lord. I am well-aware of the fate of that rebel. But unlike him, I am acting in terms of the well-being of Cooler’s empire – something which you clearly do not understand.”

“I want to speak to Glacial. Where is he? Where is my son?”

“Now now, Lord Arcterial. Don’t be rude. We are still having a conversation, like two civilized men.”

“You and I are done! I have nothing more to say to you.” I felt the heat rising in my cheeks. This time, I did not hold back. “Where is he, damn it?! Where’s my son?!”

The screen flickered, and I saw, for the briefest of moments, another figure. He was lean and tall and robed, anemic as an Arcosian winter. He looked older than I remembered, but he was still youthful and sharp-eyed, with a melancholic scowl upon his face that reminded me of his sister. His skin was light blue, his eyes wide and wet and orange. A shiver went through my heart.

“Father!”

“G-glacial… is that you?” Wh-what’s going on? Are you okay?”

Static answered.

I felt, once again, the heat rising in my blood. “The signal was lost, my lord,” Admiral Ersi replied quietly. “My apologies.”

“Damn it all! I’ll make Torlini pay for this!”

“Aye, my lord.”

“Torlini will suffer. I’ll tear off his limbs! I’ll shatter every bone in his body! I’ll make him rue the day he ever stood against me.” The blood was boiling in my veins. I ripped the cape from my armor and stepped forward. “Glacial!” For the briefest of moments, my son returned to me. “Glacial?!”

““Father… please… you have to… destroy the planet… Don’t let him…!” The static was thick, the picture unclear. Torlini was playing me like a fool. He would pay for this dearly. I sighed, thinking about how I would slowly remove his fingers and teeth individually once I captured him… this would not be over quickly. He was going to suffer long and hard for this – that much was certain. He would suffer like no other being in the universe ever had. By the time I was done with him, I knew, he would beg for death, plead for me to end it all. But I wouldn’t. No, not after this display. He would get exactly what he deserved.

For a brief moment, the ancient figure of the rogue officer reappeared dully on the screen. “I will make you hurt for this,” I declared boldly, “I will make you scream like no other being in the universe ever has!”

“You can try,” Torlini shrugged, yawning, “but your son will die.”

“Cut the feed.”

My soldiers obeyed.

We stood in silence for three seconds. I tore my armor off, ripping it in two before throwing it at the feet of Admiral Savin. “Open the window.”

“My lord…”

“Do as I say, or die.” I was not in the mood for their useless words now. The time for talk was over. I knew what had to be done.

“At once, Lord Arcterial.”

The soldiers stepped back. Their computers beeped and hummed, burning blue and white. A few of them shook. The window suddenly burst open. Three soldiers went sailing out into the abyss before they knew what happened. “I’ll be back,” I told the others, though the sailing winds took my words before they could reach the ears of my followers.

Out into space I went. Roaring at the top of my lungs, I conjured up my full power, my ultimate power. I transformed as I flew, from my species’ second form to my fourth form – the apex of my capabilities. Torlini was a fool to test me so. I would defeat him – that was certain. I would make him scream for his insurrection; I would make him beg for death for this. The thought of that made power course through my veins. Rancor guided me as I flew. This would not end today, our strife. If he killed my son or not didn’t even matter in that moment. All I knew was that I was going to tear through Torlini’s fleet, capture him, and take him back to the Absolute Zero to be tortured for years to come. He didn’t know how he had provoked me. He didn’t realize it. He was a stupid man, and he would be treated as such.

They saw me coming; there was nothing else I could do except fly faster – as fast as I had ever flown. But it wasn’t enough. They knew what I was trying, and they were ready.

Torlini’s ships turned from my fleet, which had become as large as any in the universe after Zashisaro’s defeat, and focused their turrets on the planet below. I screamed. I threw plasma at them, energy shooting from my fingertips like caustic bellows. They would not kill my son. I wasn’t going to let them.

The explosions came without sound. Somehow, that made them seem less powerful. My heart was beating like a drum. First, a dozen of Torlini’s ships absorbed a ridiculous amount of light and then exploded outward in a fiery statement of shrapnel and whiteness… and then, their plasma bolts washed over the outpost. I felt it, every last bombardment. First they went towards the north pole, and then lower, coating the entire world in burning energy. Planet Frieza 068 was aglow with light – with a million screams – as it dissolved away into nothingness.

There weren’t any ships left after my third salvo. I had destroyed them all by that point, except for Torlini’s flagship. It was crippled, aye – unable to unleash any more of its wanton hate – but that mattered little. The planet had become a burning purple-red sore, like a festering wound, and though I called from my scouter, there was no response from below. I tried every channel – and was met by static each time.

Swallowing hard, I came to Torlini’s ruined ship. There was no time to think about Glacial. The world burned before me like melting glass. I burst through steel and armor plating as if it were nothing.

His crew was dead or dying; the command center was on fire, sparks fluttering down from the ceiling like snow; the lights had faltered. Torlini yet sat in his chair, a stream of green blood flowing from a cut in his hair like a single stream of tears. The gravity of this ship had stopped functioning, and now his blood was leaking upwards, like rising smoke. He reminded me of Zashisaro, clutching at his chair, as if it could give him any support.

“It’s… done…” he wheezed.

I slammed my fist into his face, breaking his jaw, shattering his teeth. With my left hand, I grabbed his lower jaw and pulled down until I had ripped the front part of it from his bones. His teeth were hard to extract from his gums, but with enough force…

He shrieked with pain. He coated me with his blood. From the shattered looking window, I could see tempest storms of black fire roaming across the surface of Planet Frieza 068. It was not enough.

I punched him so hard, all of his ribs shattered. The captain coughed up blood, spitting it into zero gravity. His soldiers around him were suffocating, as was he. This was too easy. I punched him again. Torlini was old. He was ready to die. He was delicate as paper. This wouldn’t do.

“You have made the biggest mistake of your life, old fool,” I told him. “The biggest mistake anyone has ever made. I will make you feel unimaginable pain for this. I will break you!”

Torlini whimpered, but smiled through his broken teeth. Blood cascaded down his chin, drifting up like bubbles into the gravity-free air. “I’ve… won… L-lord Cooler…”

“Will die like all the rest,” I said, punching him hard in the chest again.

This time, when he spit up blood, Captain Torlini did not respond.

“I’ll kill you for this, you bastard!” I roared, blasting apart the ship in my fury. The others were dead; they were as meaningless as the stars. I clutched the bleeding captain in my fist, his throat against my palm, wanting so desperately to squeeze the life out of him. When he stared at me, I could see that’s what he wanted too.

So that’s exactly what I did not give him.

An opalescent sphere surrounded us, trapping what little air was left of the doomed ship inside it. I held Torlini by the throat, looking down upon the planet. With one grunt, I created an energy explosion that vaporized the rest of the ship. My scouter showed no signs of life coming from below.

“Glacial! Glacial, are you there? Glacial?!” My voice came like a child’s. Torlini chuckled at his deviousness. I had had enough.

His tongue came out next. It was like pulling a rope from a well. He cried when I did that. Torlini was not as strong as I thought.

“Glacial!”

The scouter answered in static. The world below us burned and smoldered. Molten chunks of former space ships drifted past our bubble, carefree as asteroids in orbit. A rift in space had opened up above the northern pole, a pitch-black sore that pulsed and vibrated as if it were alive. I had never seen anything like that before. It looked like the storms that were raging below on the planet’s surface.

“What did you do?! What is this madness?!”

He did not respond.

The rift widened for a moment, and then collapsed upon itself; into darkness it returned, soundless and perfect, as if it had never been anything at all.

I had my quarry; the bleeding coward was whimpering and moaning in my fist. I smashed his face again until he no longer begged.

“Glacial! Answer me, damn it! Glacial… my son…!”

Fuzz in my ears told me all I needed to know. The stars were dark. The planet rumbled without sound beneath me, churning out an inferno hot enough to incinerate most beings. Spires of flame and ash leapt up from the surface, some shooting thousands of miles into the void before burning out.

I hadn’t even returned to the Absolute Zero when the world collapsed in on itself and vaporized. Then, I knew. There was no comfort, nothing anyone could do. Torlini had sacrificed his life to end my dream of reuniting with my son.

The army was gone. Glacial was gone. Here was my fleet, floating in space, waiting to be filled with able-bodied soldiers for the wars to come, ready to be led by a capable young man I had raised since birth for this very job. And now all of that was gone. Cooler would soon know. Icer would too.

My son was gone, just like that. He had been returned to me for but a moment… and now…

There will be no peace. There will be no mercy. I will kill every last one of them.

Chapter III: His Golden Grin
Asleep, he was like any other Faerin. A little taller than most, I suppose, but thin too. His chest rose and fell with each breath he took. The room was dim, perfumed with a clean, oceanic scent. I waited as long as I dared before waking him.

“Admiral… it’s time.”

He stirred to lucidity with unmatched professionalism. “Already?” There was weariness in his eyes. The noble man stifled a yawn as he sat up. “How long has it been?”

“Ten hours.”

“Really? That long?”

I chuckle. “I’m not lying, sir.”

“Ah. Mahru… you don’t have to be so formal.” He yawned again. “What have you been doing all this time, anyways?”

“Writing Nusa.”

“Oh? Let me hear one.”

I blushed. “B-bael… it’s not…”

“Just one.”

I sighed. “Fine, be that way.” I ran my fingers through my hair in embarrassment, sighing loudly. “Rainy city/where the mist has returned/my voice is white./And across the skyscrapers…/Seivals dancing in the light’.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“What, why?” My face grew red.

“It’s not a good look, Mahru. If you’re here every night, protecting me as I sleep… people will start talking.”

“Let them talk.”

“I’m married. You know that.” His anger flared for but a moment; I could taste it upon my tongue. “This – no… such a thing cannot happen. I will not allow it.”

His words cut me deep. The dull white light was hurting my eyes. I looked away, towards the looking window, towards ancient starlight, which blinked mortally against the desolate cold. I felt no relief. “I’ll be your new wife. Forget her; you don’t even like her! Let’s kill the bitch and make things official.”

Bael laughed dryly. Standing, he donned his cloak and wiped his mouth. “Is there anything new to report?”

“Only Planet Cooler 257,” I said sullenly, my head sunk in shame. “They’re in open rebellion.”

“That is no surprise.”

“They have an active security fleet. Twenty-nine ships. I don’t think they’re going to give up without a fight.”

“Oh? Have you contacted them already?”

“Yes, sir.” I swallowed hard. “Their admiral told me they would fight to the last man, if that’s what it comes to. He swore he would never join you, my lord.”

He didn’t react, but that was not unusual. “Show me.”

We left the admiral’s private quarters, making our way to the bridge. His ship, the Splendor of the Gods, was a massive vessel – the prized jewel of the Faerin Fleet. We were all behind him, every member of our species. But I, most of all, could see Bael for who he was. I loved him. I wanted to be his wife, to bear his children, to stand at his side as he conquered the universe. The metal walls were a faded lavender, voluptuous and rigid. I shuddered in the wake of their coldness.

“Who is it this time?” he asked, striding into the bridge.

“Cooler.”

“Cooler?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“That is the last name I would have expected.”

“It’s true, sir!” the guard shouted uncertainly. “And it’s the only reason #257 is in rebellion!”

“I want to talk to them.”

“I can try to put you through, sir… but…”

“Do it.” His eyes were as gold. His lip protruded like a god’s. Bael was as confident a man as I had ever met. A rush of heat pumped through my heart.

“Working…” the guard moaned.

They were hunched over computer screens in the low light – indigos and blinking whites, strobing reds and greens, flashes of blue, and white noise. At the center of the room, Admiral Bael had taken his seat on a magnificent golden throne. He gripped the armrests made of translucent crystal Faerin skulls and leaned back.

“Who’s this, eh?” squeaked a voice from the video screen. The picture faded in, revealing an amber-toned alien with dark dreadlocks and a slouching frame. He wore purple-and-black armor and a periwinkle cape.

“Sobren,” Bael said coolly. “What is the meaning of this?”

“We ain’t followin’ no one no more, ‘specially not you, fairy! Go away! Come on, get outta here! Leave us alone!”

“I am not one for standoffs. Surrender your ships and there will be no conflict.”

“We’ll destroy you!” He was a haughty rebel, I’d give him that. “Shut your mouth before I blow you up, bitch!”

My lover showed great restraint. A tingling feeling spread across my cheeks. “My fleet greatly outnumbers yours, Sobren. You would be wise to accept my terms. You have no hope of beating me in combat.” Bael was ferocious; he wasn’t one to back down. That didn’t surprise me.

“We will.”

“Cut the feed.” Admiral Bael stood. “He has chosen their fate. I should destroy them myself. I have half a mind to do so.”

It was madness. If he thought he could don a spacesuit and charge them like a lone Arcosian general, the admiral was delusional. There was no other way to describe his intentions. This was insanity, pure and simple – the likes of which I thought Bael would never succumb to. None of his other officers so much as raised their heads to challenge his mad proclamation. They were worthless; sucking on air, they bowed their heads and spurned the artificial light.

“Don’t,” I said quickly. “There’s no need… we have more ships.”

“I have more ships,” Bael said coldly. “They’ll soon understand that.” I made a face. His eyes met mine; I shivered, though I did not look away. He stared me down like a cold winter storm. For a moment, I thought he was going to kill me. “Fine, we’ll play this safe.” He frowned, biting his tongue. “All ships, move forward. Smother the arrogant bastards.”

How easily he said those words. The fleet lurched forward, to the planet and the aliens waiting for us. There was no pause, no questioning; we moved as one. The admiral folded his arms and watched the screen. He would burn the opposing fleet, leaving no one alive. That was what he always did. Leave no survivors. Leave no one alive who could betray you in the future. He knew I knew.

It was a ruthless strategy, but the right one. Admiral Bael hadn’t ascended to his current position by accident. He was our leader because he was the strongest-willed amongst the Faereth. He didn’t care if he killed untold numbers of people. So long as our cause, our fleet, our people were not harmed… he couldn’t care less about the ambitions of lesser species.

“Circle them. Force them to charge this ship,” Bael commanded.

The flagship and its guards slowed to a crawl in their advance, while both wings moved forward with greater speed. At once, I felt a tingling sensation spread across my skin. This was the man I knew – the born-leader I knew. He was trapping these fools. They didn’t even know it. When their ships came screaming forward to challenge Bael’s flagship, that was when I knew he had outsmarted them.

“Fire.” His voice was deep, lusty, as bold as I had ever known it.

They obeyed. The ships on the perimeter circled our prey, closed in, and spit their plasma like discontented animals. The rebels burned. A few of them tried to maneuver around this trap, tried to escape, but they were unsuccessful. Every ship who opposed us was vaporized. A few of them had let loose their turrets randomly, in a last act of desperation, taking out a few ships in our vanguard, but it was no matter. By the time this was over, all twenty-one of the rebels’ ships were destroyed, and we had lost merely three vessels. Inconsequential. We reigned victorious.

“Burn the world.”

“S-sir… is that necessary?” a lackey gasped.

Bael gave the lesser Faerin a rueful gaze before decapitating him with a screaming energy blast. “Burn the world.”

“A-as you wish… my lord,” another lackey stammered. “We live to serve.”

And so Planet Cooler 257 was reduced to ash. I cannot say how many died that day, but it must have been at least a million. Their screams echoed out unto the void and were never heard again.

Afterwards, Bael retreated to his personal quarters, and this time, he didn’t mind that the captain of his guard accompanied him into his chambers. He took me on his bed, as passionate as I had ever seen him. Usually, he was a reserved man, a calm, collected, unemotional Faerin. Rarely did I see any hint of emotion coming from Admiral Bael. Yet, I could tell at that moment how pleased he was.

It wasn’t just about the planet. We had subdued numerous Planet Trade Organization outposts already. We were invincible. Bael thrust himself inside me. He was hot; kissing my neck, he pinned me against the bed. He had to cover my mouth.

When we were done, Bael wiped his face off with a hand towel. His breaths came shallow and fast. It hadn’t been more than four minutes.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said sternly. “This will set a poor example.”

He brought me here. “As you command, Admiral.”

“Admiral?”

“Sir…” I bowed my head.

“I should go to Icer,” Bael said suddenly. A chill fell down my spine. I looked up at him, wiping myself off.

“What?!”

“His daughter offered to broker an alliance, Mahru. But you already know this.”

That was the first I was hearing of that. “Does this mean you’re planning on supporting Icer to take the throne, sir?”

He nodded curtly. “Hail offered me a place by her father’s side. I think it would be prudent for us to join with powerful ally. It will do the Faereth Empire good.”

“As you wish, sir.” My eyes found the dangling light above Bael’s bed, which was white and swinging back and forth. I took a deep breath to steady myself. He kissed me, those molten eyes of his lowered. He tasted sweet upon my lips. “Shall I not go with you, my lord?”

“No. I have need of you elsewhere, Mahru.”

“Bael… I should be with you. I need to be with you. It is not–”

“Quiet, woman. Your place is where I tell you. You will go to Shyotai.”

I was taken aback. “Who is that?”

“An imperial captain who once worked under King Cold. Now he’s disgraced himself and become a space pirate. He has a large fleet… too large to ignore. I want him on our side. You will convince him to join us.”

“Where–”

“I have set up a meeting between you and him on the watery moon of Planet Frieza 112. You will go there at once and form an alliance with him.”

“I–”

“Mahru…” Bael’s voice dropped, and for a moment, I saw him as he truly was – not a giant, but a man. His eyes grew sad, the lines on his forehead seemed to deepen, and in that artificial light, he looked as thin as a flower drooping under the first winter snow. “Please. I cannot be in two places at once. I need you there.”

My throat tingled. The ship swayed, and I nearly tripped. Grabbing a nearby table, I steadied myself. “I’ll do it, sir. I’ll get you that fleet.”

“Good,” he whispered hoarsely. “With Cooler gone, the Planet Trade Organization is close to fracturing into a thousand lesser empires. Most who remain are weak men, or arrogant men. We have an opportunity to bring glory back to the Faereth, to remind the universe that we were once a mighty race in the past. The opportunity is ours, Mahru. Arcterial remains, yes, as does Nitro, but beyond them… no one can stand in our way. We need ships, soldiers, and commanders to stamp out our foes. I’ll deal with Arcterial and Nitro. It’s your job to get me the ships I require. In the meantime, I have more pressing matters to attend to… such as the Galactic Bank.”

I wanted to say something; the stars shined like angry fires outside the looking window. Admiral Bael strode out of the room suddenly.

Being left there, in the near-darkness, all I could do was bend down and pick my clothes off the metal-tiled floor.

The observational station hovered over the frigid waters of the third moon of Planet Frieza 112 like a swarm of insects over a lake. I was here alone – terms decided upon by Shyotai and myself. We would meet without guards, without any pressure. We were going to be allies, after all. I didn’t want to frighten him. He recognized that and had agreed to the same terms.

A mass of blue-grey clouds were swirling in the distance, far below the station, near the water’s surface. It was raining here, the tinkling of droplets racing down the lifeless station unceasingly. The outpost was as bare as a skeleton, grey and black and rusted, and lightning was painting the sky.

“Captain… Mahru?” came a quivering voice. “Is that you?”

“That’s me.”

The warden was a frail old creature, bent over and thin as a tree branch. He was the color of dried mud, save for his armor, which glimmered silver in the starlight. His face was flat and vaguely oval-shaped, and his eyes were as stretched as moons in a starless sky. His face was wrinkled and pockmarked, and a wispy silver beard clung to his cheeks like it was glued on. I followed him inside.

The water fell from our armor like tears. The lights flickered erratically as we strode down metal-grate halls, as grey as autumn on Faeri. It was quiet, save for our feet, and the warden said not a word to me. When he brought me to a red door with the paint peeling away from its thick steel frame, the warden bade me step inside and did not follow.

The air was stale and recycled; I could taste the salt.

“Hello, captain.”

“Shyotai,” I responded uncertainly. There was no sign of him. Was he hiding in the shadows? Was he even here at all? I did not know. The room was poorly-lit, with hanging chains and an oil-like smell permeating through it. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

He lurched forth from the blackness, and I had to conceal my gasp with a cough. Twelve feet tall was he; his exoskeleton was milky white, his head elongated like a bent arm. His teeth were dark as night, his arms lanky and bony, and I counted at least eight of them. His claws were as sharp as knives, gleaming in the low light. His bony tail swayed back and forth, as if in irritation.

Captain Shyotai was breathing deeply. “You know… you’re not the first emissary I’ve met with here in this miserable place.”

“I was not aware,” I said quickly.

“Kuriza’s men were arrogant. They demanded my ships, my loyalty. I hope you are not as pushy as they were.”

“No. Kuriza has no right to the throne, and neither do we. We recognize that – as I’m sure you do, captain. The Planet Trade Organization is dead. We are not with them any more. We are the Faereth Empire. We ask for your support, not your obedience.”

“Is that so?” He studied me curiously. “You have heard about Cooler?”

“We know,” I assured him. “Inevitably, he has followed his father and brother down a fateful path.”

Shyotai coughed. “True.”

“Shyotai… we would appreciate an alliance. Admiral Bael is the brightest military mind in the universe. He understands your skill set, captain, and he wishes to join forces with your fleet for that reason.”

“Spare me the groveling,” the man grunted. “I am not one who can be bought.”

“But you understand opportunities better than most. That’s why you’re still alive and no other officers from King Cold’s army are. You must see than an alliance between us would greatly strengthen both of our fleets.”

He crossed four of his arms. “I see that you are desperate, that you need me more than I need you.”

I spat in disgust. “Lord Bael will not take kindly to such a slight. He commands a fleet of thousands. We do not need you as much as you need us, captain. Should you spurn our offer of alliance…” I let the words hang in the air like the dust drifting around us.

“Is that a threat?” His deep red eyes narrowed.

“Take it as you will, sir.” Boldly, I said, “But know this: should you refuse our offer today, Admiral Bael will not forget, and in time, he will pay you a visit himself.”

“Hahaha…!” the beast mused, coughing ferociously. “You are just like Kuriza’s puppet. Arrogant and unsubtle.” His pale flesh gleamed like he was sweating. I could see his bones beneath his sallow exoskeleton. Shyotai wore no armor, though his cape of midnight green, bordered with trimmed onyx, was fluttering in the stagnating air.

“Kuriza has no claim to the throne. Cooler’s twin babes are the heirs, no one else. The empire is dying, regardless. When this ship sinks, all who stay aboard will drown. I promise you that. You would be wise to pick your allies carefully, captain.”

“I have,” he replied, clicking his tongue. His teeth were bared, black as the oil-stained walls. “I know the value of Faereth, especially now.”

“Good. So what say you?” I held my breath.

The alien captain paced a bit, though his eyes never left mine. Finally, unfolding his arms, he laughed dryly and said, “I have an idea. Why don’t Bael and I–”

At once, Shyotai let out a breath of air. Clutching at his throat, he fell to his knees, squeaking like a child. His eyes were bulging out of his head, glazed-over and red, burning like warm coals in a fire. His arm were flailing; slobber leaked down his snout. The pale alien sucked in a breath of air – or tried to – and collapsed. I dared not move.

“Shyotai?” My voice was uncertain. I had no clue what had happened.

From behind me, a door opened, bringing with it a blinding white light. “What have you done?!?! On my installation, no less! Lord Cooler will have my head!” The warden was clutching his ears with pathetic sentimentalism, shaking like a leaf in the wind.

“I didn’t do this.”

“Liar!” he screeched, his eyes tearful and pale as moonlight. “You killed him! You spilled blood in this place! How could you, Mahru?!”

“I did no such thing.” Now rage came to me, cloaking me in its warmness. I would not suffer the stupidity of this animal.

“I’ll have your head… I’ll tell–”

“Shut your worthless mouth!” I grabbed him by the neck and picked him up. The warden writhed and struggled, but it was no use. I was the captain of Bael’s guard. This alien was nothing compared to me. “I didn’t kill him!”

Even now, bubbling spittle was streaming down Shyotai’s gaping maw onto the metal-grate floor. There was green liquid in it – blood, I assumed. Someone had done this to him, but I couldn’t guess who. Perhaps he had more enemies than he had let on.

“S-s-s-s-top!!” the warden pleaded.

“Take me to his ship.”

“I-I can’t!” the alien gasped. “I-I’m a n-n-n-neutral arbitrator!”

“You’ll be a dead one if you don’t do what I tell you. I will not ask you again, Warden.”

His eyes went wide for a second time. He was pleading with his gaze; I looked away. I couldn’t stand him. The chains above Shyotai were still swaying soundlessly in the near darkness. The inside of my throat itched. I thought of my love, of how his lips tasted against mine, and my anxiety melted away.

“Fine!”

The alien fell to the ground with a soft thud. Wheezing, he clutched at his throat as Shyotai once had. I had half a mind to vaporize him right there. The installation shook, vibrating from the floor up my boots. My thoughts returned home, to the Academy, and I knew what I had to do.

“Take me to his ship.”

The warden didn’t complain this time. He knew if he did, it would be his life. The man trudged on, past the bleeding corpse, to the far side of the room. We moved through the door, down several derelict hallways, and finally returned outside to a landing pad where a large pod lay at rest. The rain had abated, and overhead, silver-winged birds were flying aimlessly in a moonlit sky. The stars blinked and shimmered like jewels. There was a stillness in the air. Somewhere up there, I knew, Shyotai’s men were awaiting his return.

“What is the size of his fleet?”

“I-I don’t know, my lady…”

I gave him a baleful look. The warden stuttered and looked down in fear. “I-I…”

“Tell me now.”

Far-off, an alien bird screamed. “Forty-three, my lady, of varying sizes and crews.”

“Excellent.”

Looking up, the warden asked, “A-are you leaving… my lady?”

“That’s the plan.”

“B-but why…? Lord Cooler will–”

“Cooler is dead,” I replied flatly. “I don’t know why you don’t know already, but I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

The warden gasped, stuttering in the rain, as I stood there on the bleak platform. I popped my knuckles and turned from him, walking up to the docked ship. There was much for me to do; much and more, I knew. I had a fleet to win for my lover. And I would get it for him, or I’d die trying. There were no other options.

I sat down in the pod, and pressed the buttons familiar to my fingers. Soon, the space pod was rising into the starry sky, and soon, I knew, I’d be reunited with the man who meant more to me than the rest of the universe. I’d burn it all down just to get back with him for one night. And maybe I would.

Once this was over, he’d leave his barren wife, and we wouldn’t have to hide our love any longer. I sighed, thinking about it. I would give Bael the heirs he so desired… but first, there was this little, bothersome fleet that had to be dealt with…

Chapter IV: Not Dead Yet
“He’s dead! Dead, ya hear me?! Dead!! Hehehehe, it’s unreal! Him of all people!”

The voice reverberated through my skull, a deflected ki blast never meant to explode. Crouching in my cell, my breaths came erratically. I was hungry – so hungry I was seeing stars. My fingers were trembling; my stomach had long since given up its protests. I would die here, I knew.

In the lightless prison, the walls shook. Space rats scurried past the bars, shrieking. I had half a mind to grab one and tear into its juicy flesh. I was too tired.

“Help… help… Please… I have money… I’ll pay you… whatever you want!! Please! I’ll–”

That was the Faerin. His life ended in a flash of light. I couldn’t muster the energy to recoil when the room lit up. His death cry pierced my mind, lingering like a broken image for a moment before fading with the light. Others were calling out too. A hole in the wall had opened – a red eye staring at us with sheer contempt. I wasn’t a traitor, I wanted to tell it. I had been falsely imprisoned by Salza. At least he was dead now.

Some were screaming. Fires were spreading. An Akihian prisoner was burning and flopping around in his cell in front of me. Through the hole in the wall, ki blasts were flying. Some found their way inside, errantly striking cells and prisoners within, while others traded air down the hallway outside. They were all wailing now – not just us. The universe would bleed for this.

“Give up, already! He’s dead! The Planet Trade Organization’s finished!” a voice boomed over the loudspeakers. My head swayed back and forth involuntarily. I waited for a flaming spire of ki to come at me. I would welcome its warmness, the relief it would bring my tired bones.

A soldier stumbled into the room clutching his chest. His armor had shattered where his fist was pressed against the wound. Purple blood trickled down his gloves, dripping to the floor. He was losing too much blood, I knew. He would be dead any moment now.

The Faerin’s carcass reeked in the flames. I felt the heat and crawled to the far side of my cell. It wasn’t supposed to end this way. I would not die like this. “You…” I cried hoarsely, my voice barely rising above the screams and flames. “Help me… please… get me out of here…”

The bloody soldier stood hunched over and gave me a look I will never forget. In his free hand, a white ball of ki materialized. Frowning, he threw it recklessly. He fell to his knees before it even reached me. The energy washed over me, and I felt for a moment numb as I flew through the air. My bones shook, my head was spinning, my fingers tingled. The cell’s metal bars melted, and I went skidding across the blood-soaked metal-grate floor before crashing against the outer hull of another cell.

The dirty alien clawed at me, begging with short breaths for me to free him. Gasping, I sat up, wiping away the dark liquid leaking from my nose. The soldier had collapsed in a pool of his own blood. This was not the end.

“Rise, my friends! Destroy the loyalists! Admiral Bael asks all of you to pledge loyalty to the Faereth Empire! He is a generous and wise man! Rise, and crush the Planet Trade Organization! Put them down! The doomed are falling back to the lower districts! Kill them there!”

I stumbled to the entrance where melted steel was dripping and burning holes in the floor. Through the wall, I found bodies – Faereth, mostly, but some of other species too. They were all dead, or dying. A few pleaded for mercy. Alas, that I could not give them what they wished. I was too weak.

A few men ran past me, armfuls of jewels and gold and treasure glittering in the dusty light. I’m sure they could have killed me. One soldier was kneeling over another, beating the collapsed alien mercilessly with the fleshy spikes of his fists. Sickening crunch followed sickening crunch. The kneeling man’s fingers dripped with violaceous liquid.

A fish-faced alien was leaning up against a doorway, clutching at multiple wounds along his neck and chest. “I’m a coward, I’m just a coward, heh! A coward, eh! I’m a bloody coward! Eh, I’m a coward! A coward! Just what I deserve, y’know? I’m a coward,” he muttered to himself.

I stumbled into the hall beyond, where a bronze statue of Lord Cooler stood. The head had been blown off, and much of the body was covered in scorch-wounds. The air trembled with burning iron. A few men went running by, bundles of jewels and gold in their arms. In a daze, I walked through the smoke, past the corpses, deeper into the ruins. Ipha would be destroyed by the end of this, I guessed. This moon had once been the seat of Cooler’s government. Now it was a cesspit – a mocking attempt at playing empire. So what if he was gone? They couldn’t hope to replace him. The only hope…

A lightning bolt of realization sizzled up my spine. I knew what I had to do. Most of the marble pillars were cracked or fallen. Small fires dotted the hall like festering wounds, as the smoke grew and the few remaining survivors wandered about aimlessly, clutching jewels or blood. It was hard to concentrate. I was hungry and tired and my old bones ached. Yet, I could remember where they were kept, or where they should be. If they were not there… well, I didn’t know what I would do. I had only one hope.

A couple of Faereth were gorging themselves upon red ice around the corner in the hallway, though when they saw me, they scant raised their heads. Laughing, they drank heavily from ancient-sealed bottles worth more than starships and exchanged stories. I was running now.

“Wipe them out! The loyalists are falling back! Swarm over them! Send them to their master! Rise, my brothers! Crush the loyalists! We’re not at his mercy any more! We’re free!! Destroy them!”

One of the drunk Faereth threw his bottle at the wall and whooped.

The smoke was thicker ahead, where shattered glass and cracked stone floors greeted me. The bodies were burnt, their red-green innards burst from cooked flesh to spill out onto the ruined ground. There was fighting ahead, where two groups of aliens clothed in the standard imperial armor traded ki blasts. I couldn’t tell them apart. The ones on the left side died quicker; it was soon over. The survivors moved on, leaving their wounded and dying behind. Their boots echoed on the marble until they were gone.

Cooler’s family crest decorated every wall this deep in the palace. There were two stone Arcosians guarding the next door, though I knew not who they were. The one on the left had lost his left arm. They held pikes and stern gazes. The door was unlocked. There weren’t any bodies this deep in the place.

The walls were dressed in space mahogany – deep brown, almost reddish in color. This was a serene place. Pictures, paintings, and golden patterning colored the walls. I noticed Cooler and his siblings. Every now and then, their father, King Cold, could be seen in some of the paintings. He was a rare sight, though most of those who had access to these rooms on a normal basis would know who he was. Now they were all gone. Except maybe Nitro. But Nitro was no ruler. No, the rule would pass from Cooler to his children. Anything else would be illegitimate. Nitro had no more of a claim to the throne than Kuriza or Bael. They were pretenders all. Haimaru and Raimie were heirs – the only heirs.

It nearly made me laugh. Sweat was pouring down my face. I probably wouldn’t make it. My energy was burning out like a star ready for supernova. At least there was no one around. I wondered how Salza would think of me now. From whatever hell he was wasting away in, could he see me? Could he understand what I was doing? Would he finally realize that I wasn’t a damn traitor? I might be the only loyal soldier left on this miserable moon.

The hallways were endless, the doors too numerous to count. I ran by muscle memory. I was too weary to think. My feet took me where I had to go. There was nothing else I could do. I was in no state to save the Planet Trade Organization. But I was the only one left. They were all dead – all of them – except me. I had to do this. Everything would collapse without me.

Panting, spitting, wheezing, I came to the nursery, which was as abandoned as any other room. There was no sign of fighting, no bodies, no smoke nor fire nor death hanging in the air. The Ocaran bassinets were empty; the lights were on.

Into the second room, I went, where the babies usually were let out into their play pens to spend the day in their nannies’ care. I found only one of the blue-blob monstrosities. She had taken a ki blast to the head and spilled her brains upon the carpet, bright blue with spots of white. Her skin was lukewarm to the touch.

I dared not call out. How I wish I had had a scouter. I should have picked one up from the corpses. But I wasn’t thinking back then. Silently, I crept onward, into the inner rooms of the nursery, careful to open the doors as quietly as possible.

An Arcosian aurora display was playing in the next room, painting the space mahogany ceiling, as hanging toys swung lightly with each distant explosion that rocked the entire palace. Other toys lay scattered on the floor – coloring books and Arcosian Snowsurfers and colorful, triangular blocks. They had been here recently.

A crash came from the room ahead. I looked up, held my breath, and moved. I was in there faster than light.

A blood-stained cutthroat was limping through the room, looking through the contents of dressers and cribs and destroying any mirrors he found with quick blue ki blasts. His right ear was missing, and crimson blood was oozing from the wound slowly, running down his neck, giving his exposed flesh a dark, glistened appearance. Humming and muttering to himself, the man was keeping himself busy by exploring the dressers when a baby cried out.

At once, the soldier perked up. His armor was worn and broken, its shoulder pads cracked and blown off. There were multiple bleeding wound across his body, and it looked like he was missing several teeth. Still, he held a pen-shaped object between two fingers that emanated smoke upwards into the fine wood ceiling. Nil, I knew. He was addicted.

“Oy, who’s there?” the man breathed.

I dared not move. I was not strong enough. I would just get myself killed.

Another cry was followed by a woman making hushing sounds. But it was no use.

In the next moment, an aqua-skinned, black-armored babe rose into the air, hovering in front of the man.

“You?!” the soldier laughed. “You’re Cooler’s son, aren’tcha? Y’know he’s dead, yeah? Your daddy’s dead. His empire’s crumbling. You’ll never be like him.”

I felt the heat come on so strong, I briefly lost my vision. I nearly fell to the carpet. I wanted to strangle that man. I wanted to make him suffer. But he wouldn’t. I knew I couldn’t touch him as I was.

“Maru, get back here, noooo!” the blue-blob nanny screeched, springing up from the shadows suddenly. She reached for the hovering boy, but he drifted forward, just out of her reach.

“You’re a pretty one,” the soldier said ferociously, wiping blood from his neck. Then, he raised his arm and shot a ki blast at her.

The nanny’s head exploded, sending bright blue blood all over the room. Haimaru’s armor was splattered with it, and he began to cry, shaking like a floating flower, confused and brittle and too innocent for this world.

“You…” the soldier chuckled, stepping forward to put his arm on Haimaru’s teal-jeweled head, “you’re gonna make me a lotta money. Oh yeah, kid. Bael wants you. Wants you bad. He’ll pay big money for you. You know that, dontcha? The last surviving heir of Cooler… Heh. I think you’re gonna end up just like your father, kid.”

I grabbed a nearby vase, preparing to hit the man over the head. If it worked, it worked. If it didn’t, we all died. Nothing else I could do. I crept forward. He didn’t see me.

“Come ‘ere, lad,” the soldier whispered, trying to coo the crying boy. He grabbed the hovering Haimaru and hugged him tight. “It’s alright, don’t worry. You won’t remember any of this.”

I was right behind him. From beyond the darkness, Raimie began to cry, wherever she lay. I could not let his children fall into this bastard’s hands. I raised the vase and prepared to swing it against the back of this bleeding fool’s neck.

“Y’know, Bael’s gonna pay me millions, gonna make me a–”

A blinding blue light shone in the room, so bright I had to look away. I could feel its heat. The vase slipped from my shaking fingers. My knees found the carpet. I heard the soldier gasp, then swear, then scream. And then, his blood was on me and the light faded.

Hovering in the air in front of me was Haimaru, the son of Cooler, as regal a king as I had ever seen. His finger was raised, pointed forward. Smoke drifted up from his fingernail as his sister wailed behind. He was his father’s son. He stood like Cooler. His eyes narrowed like Cooler’s did. His face scrunched up in a haughty frown just like his father’s. It was uncanny. He was just a babe.

“My lord,” I gasped, though I knew he could not understand me, “my name is Nectarian, former senior governor in your father’s empire. I have returned to the Planet Trade Organization.” The words caught in my throat. The baby boy stared me down. I knew not whether he would release another finger beam. “I pledge my life to you… and your sister… my lord. I will do whatever I can to protect you and to help you ascend the throne that is rightfully yours. On my word… on my honor, I will serve you, Lord Haimaru.”

The boy yawned and drifted back down to the shadows, towards his sister. I stood, breathing hard, wiped the blood from my face, and realized what I had to do.

Their hover-strollers were filled to the brim with blankets and toys and bottles of milk. Raimie was clutching a stuffed Wintaar (a semi-intelligent furry biped native to Arcose), and now it was Haimaru’s turn to cry. Cooler’s children were not old enough for this, I knew. They could not rule the empire yet… perhaps not for another twenty or thirty years. Why did he have to go Earth in the first place?!

I’m no damn rebel.

They would be coming for these two. Pirates… rivals… assassins… Everyone would want Cooler’s children, and most would want them dead. We had to get out of here. There was no other choice. The empire was collapsing. One day, Haimaru and Raimie would return and claim what was rightfully theirs. But that was not this day. This day, we would run.

I had picked up a scouter from a dead soldier and moved cautiously through the hallways and rooms, once wrought in splendor and arrogance, protecting the children as best I could. Ash and ruined mahogany greeted me. They had been picked clean. No wealth nor any beauty remained. Cooler’s empire was fallen into utter decay. Now that he was gone… the vultures were swooping in to pick the carcass clean. Disgusting.

With my scouter, I made sure I didn’t confront anyone. I was too weak. My pace was lethargic, and I nearly collapsed several times. My stomach punched me again and again, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten in days. That was no matter. I needed to get the prince and princess to safety.

The path to the pod bays was treacherous as it was long. It took me nigh an hour to approach the place, for I had to hide in the shadows, waiting for anyone my scouter told me was in the way to leave. When I finally arrived inside the bay, I opened the door with one of the nanny’s keys, locked it behind me, and prepared to put the two Arcosian babies into their pods.

I didn’t know where to send them.

Standing at the datapad, the children crying in my ear, I felt the palace shake. The force of it nearly sent me to the floor. This wasn’t right… such an attack… it came from close by. I spun around.

“Open the door, Nectarian,” came a female voice from beyond plated steel.

“Who’s there?” I replied, on guard.

“Open the door, prisoner.”

“I will not.”

“I’m Governor Abliune,” the woman snapped from behind the door. “On my authority, I order you to open up, or die.”

“I do not answer to you.”

“A traitor does not answer to anyone, it seems.” She was offended; I could tell. “Open the doors, or I’ll blow them away.”

“You want them, do you?!” I roared. My rage made me feel alive. For a moment, I wasn’t tired. “You want to kill his children. That’s it, isn’t it? You want to murder them!”

“Open the door, prisoner.”

Frantically, I turned to the datapad, pushing buttons like a madman. One pod door opened to my right. I took the crying children in my arms and placed them gently inside, side-by-side. The boy was sobbing, staring at me with wet, golden eyes. I shivered; I knew he knew. The girl was sucking her thumb. I closed the door and returned to the datapad. Scrolling through the farthest-away planets, I changed the search to non-outposts. They had to reach a planet that wasn’t in the database – one that wasn’t controlled by the Planet Trade Organization. After the latest developments, I couldn’t trust anyone in this empire.

My finger stopped on an un-tamed world, far from the furthest reaches of our empire. Planet Aelfon struck my eye. I had no time. They were banging on the door. My scouter told me they were warming up energy blasts. Governor Abliune was extraordinarily powerful. I could not stop her if she got through. I had to go.

I pressed the button. The pod disengaged from the Iphan docking bay, rising into the star-lit sky, where no doubt countless rebels and loyalists were fighting in the void above. I watched the pod shoot off towards the darkness. They would be safe on Aeflon. At least I hoped so.

Sighing, I turned to the door, cracking my knuckles. This would be my end. Abliune would never get Cooler’s children. She would never be able to murder them. I made sure that. But my own life…

The energy blast sent shock waves through the docking bay, causing me to hit my head against the datapad and fall over. Moaning in pain, I wiped the blood from my eyes. Ahead, the door was sparking and melting; the energy was coming through.

“Stay back!” I shouted. “I’ll kill them! I swear I will!”

“Then do it!” the governor bellowed.

“What do you want with them?!”

“Shut up, traitor!”

“No… you’re the traitors! You serve Bael! He’s a–”

“Bael’s in charge now! If you don’t bow to him, we’ll make you kneel!”

The molten steel was dripping like scarlet tears. There wasn’t much time now. I gathered myself, defiant, ready to die. And as I stood there, breathing hard, my throat full of bile, I realized it didn’t have to end this way. I didn’t have to die.

Swiftly, I moved back to the datapad and opened another pod door. There were at least a dozen still at dock. That wasn’t good. If I left… surely, the governor would send her best warriors after us. And where the children and I were going… that information was in the computer.

“Shit.”

The nanny’s key was in my hand. The door was collapsing. I stabbed it in the datapad’s port. She was shouting at me – her highness. I bet she was a Faerin. She sounded like one – all pompous and arrogant and full of herself. Well, I had a surprise cooking for her. I pressed the buttons I needed to press and stepped back, hoping to catch sight of her for one moment, at least.

My belly rumbled. I coughed and nearly fell over. The datapad beeped, and a synthetic voice spoke: “Ten… nine… eight… seven… six…”

There was no time. “We are not dead yet!” I roared with all the energy I had left. Then, I collapsed inside my pod, pressed the takeoff button, and passed out.

It was a shame. I would have liked to see the hangar bay explode. I would have liked to see Governor Abliune burst into the room, thinking she had cornered me and the children, only to be met by a face full of fire. But it was not to be.

Alas.

Chapter V: Rebirth
His court was filled with Arcosians of around his age and slightly older. Stoic guards in heavy, shining metal and blood red capes stood against the walls in solemn diligence. My lord was sitting politely on his golden throne, a crimson cloak with indigo silk borders draped around him like a blanket. His friends, wards, confidants, officers, and attendants took up most of the room. I was at my lord’s side. Not all of us were made of ice.

“Are you sure, Captain?” The king’s voice was soft, almost bored.

Captain Orlan exhaled deeply. “Bael’s fleet arrived at Ipha three days ago. They destroyed the moon before they left, leaving nothing behind. There are no signs of your cousins.”

The young lord was holding something in his hand. His fist squeezed it and released and squeezed again. Looking down, Kuriza spoke, “Do a sweep, Lingon. Make sure–”

“My lord…” I interrupted, “Ain’t no one left out there. We’re sure.”

“And there were no escape pod departures beforehand?”

“Dozens, perhaps… but that information is lost,” said Orlan.

“How do we know that uncle Cooler’s twins weren’t on one of those escape pods?”

Orlan folded his arms. “It’s highly unlikely, Lord Kuriza. Once news of Lord Cooler’s death spread, the outpost was overrun by the Faereth in a matter of hours.”

“Traitors.” I shivered hearing him say such a word in his young, high voice. “One day they’ll get what’s coming to them.” He looked up suddenly, curling his elbow on the golden armrest of his throne, squeezing his fist as fast as a heartbeat now. “Lingon, clear the room.” I bowed in acquiesce.“Wait… stop!” he chirped, as I ushered out the nearest group of advisors. “I want that one,” he said, pointing to a gnarled, grey-robed beast. “He stays.”

And so he did. Lord Kuriza even bade his guards to leave. This was for something important, I knew, but what my little lord wanted with this beast, I couldn’t guess. I did not recognize the man.

“You’re Sapras, right? That’s your name, isn’t it?”

“That’s correct, my lord,” the wrinkly, brown-skinned alien muttered. He looked like a featherless bird, with a beak and a tall, lean frame. His eyes were swirling hurricanes. “I served your grandfather before his death, and then your uncle afterwards. To my knowledge, I am the last living officer of your grandfather’s army. We have even met before, I believe… in your uncle’s capitol on Ipha. Do you remember, my lord?”

The boy nodded with naïveté. “Why did you come here?” Kuriza wasn’t looking at him, instead admiring the fabric of his robes.

“I have information that might serve you, my lord. I know much about your grand uncles, and what they are planning on doing.”

“What are they planning on doing?” the boy asked, spiritless.

“Kill you, my lord.”

“What?!” That was my voice. I stepped forward to grab the man, but he had already sunk to his knees, his arms raised in mercy, his eyes wet and wide.

“I know things, my lord. Please, you must believe me. I wanted to go to Cooler’s children… but they’ve disappeared. You are the heir to the Planet Trade Organization now, Lord Kuriza. But Lord Arcterial won’t stand for that. He’s coming for you. He wants the throne for himself. He won’t let some kid – begging your pardon, sir – rule the empire he and his brothers built.”

“And what of Icer?” I asked, unsure what to do. Kuriza sat there, unperturbed. He didn’t want me to apprehend Sapras… at least not yet.

“Icer set up a trade network with the Aphotic Prince when the prince was still around, and I know he’s trying to forge an alliance with Admiral Bael. If those rumors are true…”

“He’ll want the Planet Trade Organization too,” Kuriza said firmly, looking up at them. “He won’t have my empire. Not if I have anything to say about it. I’m the son of Frieza, the strongest warrior in the universe! They will soon fear my name. We need to talk,” he told the alien, bluntly. “You will tell me everything you know about what my grand uncles are planning. Uncle Cooler told me about you. He said you know everything, Master Sapras. So teach me.”

“Y-yes… my lord.

“Follow me.” The boy hopped off his throne and made his way towards his personal chambers, which lay past a door behind the great golden seat. “Oh, and Lingon, stay here. Someone’ll need to run the ship while I’m away. I’ll need you to deal with Kracchus yourself.”

“I will, my lord,” I said, a fist over my chest. It was astonishing to see the boy acting so mature all of the sudden. He was a quiet boy, devoted more to art and beauty than to blood and war. Yet here he stood proudly, demonstrating shrewd foresight in his battle strategies. This was promising. I don’t remember his father ever thinking this far ahead.

I almost felt like going to a knee and proclaiming him my king. But I was a soldier, not a romantic.

I missed the rainy days I spent reading him stories. He fell asleep so easily back then. Sitting in a temporary command chair below his throne, I leaned back. I could hardly feel the ship moving at near-light speed. The guards were not with me, nor the advisors. I was not their master. Priceless paintings wrought by the greatest artists in the universe decorated the walls. Kuriza had always had a taste for the high arts, but me… I didn’t understand it at all. Most of them just looked like messy blotches of multi-colored paint that I could have drawn myself.

There were five major factions now, and we would have to assimilate or decimate the other four if we wanted to take back the Planet Trade Organization. I had no reason to doubt Master Sapras. He had loyally served King Cold and Lord Cooler. Ambition never surprises me. There was Lord Kuriza – King Kuriza, truly – Lord Arcterial, Lord Icer, Lord Nitro, and Admiral Bael. They were the big players here, and it looked like all of them would be our foes. Though, if Bael and Icer combined forces, I realized then, they’d be unstoppable. Likely, Sapras already told Kuriza about such a possibility. It was the grand uncles we were most concerned about. Even now, I guessed our forces outnumbered Nitro’s.

Sure, there were dozens of lesser officers with moderate fleets running about with their heads cut off, swearing they’d be the best king of all. All of those rebels would be easily subdued. The smart ones would join larger forces – us, I hoped. If this was how it was going to be, I wanted us to be as strong as possible before confronting Icer or Arcterial. To refuse the rightful ruler of the Planet Trade Organization guaranteed death. Soon, the universe would know that. It didn’t matter if it was some random captain or Kuriza’s own blood. They would all face the same fate if they stood against us.

The computer terminal in front of me flashed on, humming loudly. The screen revealed the sleek, muscled, grey-furred visage of Admiral Kracchus, Kuriza’s most trusted officer not on this ship. Two guards flanked him. He looked tired. Sound came through the scouter I wore on my left ear.

“Kracchus,” I breathed. “It’s good to see you.”

“Where’s Lord Kuriza?”

“Busy. He asked me to meet with you instead.”

“Right.” I could detect the annoyance in his voice. “Well, we’re here, and… it’s not pretty. Take a look.” He took the camera, panning around the oceans and distant floating cities that could be seen. Most had been ravaged by orbital bombardment. The cities were made of a white, sea-shell-like substance that cracked and blackened wherever plasma touched it. And each floating world had been absolutely smothered in plasma. Truly, the cities looked like ruins. “Captain Lyogan is commanding the ground forces. I’d estimate they’ve already wiped out fifty percent of the native population.”

“Have you contacted Lyogan?”

“I’ve tried, but I can’t get through. I’m going to have to capture her somehow.”

“Do it,” I commanded, feeling a flush of power rising in my wrinkled cheeks. “We need that world, and Lord Kuriza thinks it will be greatly beneficial to have the Quglith in his empire. Do whatever it takes, but spare as many of Lyogan’s soldiers as possible. We’ll need them for our army, too.”

“Understood, Lingon.”

“One other thing, Admiral,” I said, sitting up. “News has come from Earth…”

“I know. Cooler’s dead. Just like his brother. They went to the same place and met the same fate. Don’t tell me Kuriza wants to go there too.”

“No, of course not. I would never allow him to do such a thing. There’s something else. A few days ago, Admiral Bael attacked Ipha. There were no survivors.”

The furry alien’s eyes narrowed in shock. “D-does that mean…?”

“Yes. Kuriza is the king of the Planet Trade Organization now. His grand uncles, Nitro, and Lord Bael are our foes. There have been rumors that Bael and Icer will join forces. We cannot let that happen. If they do, their combined hordes will overrun us easily. Lord Kuriza gave you a third of his fleet to accomplish your mission, but now you must do more for him, I fear.”

“Anything,” he said loyally, falling to a knee.

“Gather as many ships and soldiers as you can. It will come to blood, one way or another. I plan for our side to have a larger fleet when it does.”

“Of course. Have the others pressed claims yet?”

“Arcterial and Nitro are moving to, no doubt, but no one has made a formal declaration since the deaths of Cooler’s twins.”

“I see. In that case, if Kuriza declares first… we’ll have the upper hand. He has legitimacy. He’s the rightful king,” Kracchus growled. “More will join us because of that. But I need to move fast.” He took a deep breath and nodded. “Very well. In that case, I’ve got a planet to liberate. I must go, Lingon.”

“Take care, Kracchus, and remember, limit the casualties as much as you can. We need bodies for this war.”

He nodded once and was gone in a flash. I sat back in order to contemplate what to do. I wasn’t the smartest man, nor the most qualified for this position. But Kuriza had chosen me – well, his father had made me the boy’s sworn guardian when he had been born. Truthfully, there was little I could guard Kuriza against now. He far outclassed me in nearly every possible way. His other advisors were smarter, more cunning, more ruthless. But I loved Kuriza more than they. I would never let anything happen to him.

I felt the Winter’s Dawn decelerate – a slight, mind-emptying feeling. We were here. Lord Kuriza’s scouter was turned off; that was odd. He had told me to inform him the moment we arrived. Standing, I gathered my cloak about me and marched off to Kuriza’s quarters.

It was a short walk to the young king’s quarters. Two guards met me at the door. I was their commander, so they did not stop me. Inside, the antechamber was packed with fountains and hanging flowering vines and statues of Frieza and Cooler and King Cold. In the corner, I saw the pale, thin-framed Kuriza leaning against another young Arcosian. Both of them were moaning weakly; their bodies were obscured by the regal lord’s fluttering cloak.

“Lord Kuriza?”

The boy looked up sharply, his face flushed. When he saw me, he gasped in embarrassment. “Lingon… I-I… y-you… what are you doing here?” he stammered.

“We’ve arrived, my lord. The fleet is just out of range.”

“Oh… very good.” He wiped his mouth and turned to face me, hunched over, his robes covering him like a sheet of ice. Behind him, the other young Arcosian stood meekly, his head bowed. The blood in his face still burning hot, Kuriza asked, “Did Kracchus succeed in his mission?”

“He will, my lord. He’s arrived on the planet and will be taking out the invading forces shortly. As well, he plans on gathering the lordless fleet commanders currently roaming the empire before returning to you.”

“Good, good…” the boy said, distractedly. “I’ll be out shortly, Lingon. You may leave now.”

I bowed awkwardly and took my exit.

Outside, two Arcosian girls were talking with the guards, pleading to be let in. “Aw, c’mon! He invited us!” one whined cutely.

“I need confirmation from Lord Kuriza himself,” one of the frog-faced guards croaked. “But he ain’t answerin’ his scouter…”

“Let them in,” I breathed, as I exited. “He wants them in there, trust me.”

And so the door opened again, and two giddy young girls streamed inside to their lord. I wondered if he had any ice wine in there. He’d be just like his father if he did. Frieza had been a notoriously hot-blooded dog in his youth. Yet, at the same time, I longed for the old days, the younger Kuriza who merely wanted me to read him stories and comfort him when he had nightmares about monsters and demons.

Returning to the bridge, I called forth everyone – men and women better than me for such a task. They would give Kuriza their counsel in how to take this planet, and he probably would listen. But if he didn’t… it was I who would step in, and only then. That was my only purpose at this stage of my life. I couldn’t stop the boy, but I was the only one he truly trusted. I guess that shouldn’t come as a surprise, considering the rest of his family was trying to kill him. I was all he had left.

That wasn’t going to happen. Not if Kracchus succeeded. Not if we captured this planet. We were moving too; we were gathering strength. King Kuriza would soon take his place as the leader of the largest empire in the universe, and there was nothing, I hoped, that Icer and Arcterial could do to stop him.

“Six scout fighters,” Lord Kuriza ordered from his throne. “Nothing else.”

“We’re leaving the rest of the fleet behind?” Commander Fusil asked. He was a cautious, amphibian-looking creature with spotted brown-and-red skin that was always perspiring.

“Yes,” the Arcosian replied simply. “We don’t want to look like we’re a threat.”

“As you wish, my lord. Moving forward.”

Kuriza’s flagship, the Winter’s Dawn, raced towards the planet ahead – Planet Frieza 317 – with six light starfighters in tow. This was not even a fraction of our fleet, and it should rouse the outpost commander’s curiosity at least, I suspected. The planet was a forested, oceanless place, wild and untamed, and only recently colonized. The outpost therein would be comprised of inexperienced commanders and soldiers, no doubt, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be useful for Kuriza’s empire.

“Sire, the long-range scouters are picking up dozens of readings coming from behind the moon!” rasped Captain Zitorin. “They’re closing in on us!”

From where we were, the moon of Planet Frieza 317 was half-eclipsing its burning red sun to the left.

“Ignore them,” the young lord commanded coolly, not paying attention. “Don’t change course.”

“B-but… my lord… there’s more than a hundred ships!”

“Quiet!” I barked. “Lord Kuriza knows what he’s doing. Don’t question his judgment!”

Zitorin nodded sheepishly and lowered his fearful eyes to his computer console.

“Connect me to whomever commands this outpost.”

“As you wish, my lord.” That was Captain Capontari. She had a thing for Kuriza, I knew, but she would never act on her urges for fear of having her entrails paraded through the streets of his capitol world. “I’ve hailed the command post… and they’ve answered!”

On the screen appeared an orange-skinned, furry creature with a grievously-scarred face. One of his eyes was missing, as was his nose, and one of his cheeks had been burnt and ripped open once, the tattered remnants sown back together, but not made whole again. He was old, as were his wounds, and he wore a dark eyepatch over his missing eye. He studied us carefully.

“Who’s there?”

“Your king,” Kuriza snapped, sitting up. “Whom do you serve, governor?”

“I used to serve Cooler,” he said uncertainly, squinting at Kuriza. “But he died, and now I serve Lord Nitro.”

“Why?” the boy asked sharply.

“Because his men told me if I don’t, they’ll kill me.”

“I’m your rightful king.” The boy stood, though he looked no more intimidating than a bare tree. “This planet was my father’s before he died. It belongs to me.”

“K-kuriza?” The governor sounded unsure.

“So you do recognize me.”

“Sire, the enemy ships have reached our location!” Zitorin yelled in dismay.

The boy cocked his head. “You haven’t called off your ships yet?”

“It’s too late my lord,” the governor said gravely.

“Open the window,” Kuriza commanded.

Capontari did so at once, as everyone scrambled to hold onto something, so as to not get sucked out into the void. Sometimes I wished I could breathe in space like the Arcosians, but other times, I wondered what was the point? Who’d want to be able to live in such a cold desolation?

He was out there in an instant, as graceful as a star dancer, his cloak billowing behind him. We could still hear Kuriza on his scouter speaking to the installation’s governor. “Call them off, or this will end poorly for you, my lord!”

The ships fired upon us, destroying the six scouting vessels in an instant. Kuriza created a bubble of ki that surrounded Winter’s Dawn and blocked any plasma from hitting it, and then with the snap of his wrist, every foe’s spaceship powered down, ending their attack. Drifting like asteroids, they were unable to offer up any further resistance. I could see Kuriza’s eyes glowing crimson even from the looking window, and I knew what he had done.

“If you surrender now, this will be easier for you. You cannot stop me.”

“Lord Kuriza, please! I can’t! Nitro will–”

“Nitro is my uncle, but if he stands against me, he will die like all the rest. Do you wish to die with him, governor?”

We soon learned that this was Governor Rowane, the former installation commander of Planet Cooler 116. He had been the one in charge of that world when the Aphotic Prince had attacked it and abducted Lord Avalan, Lord Icer’s only son. Afterwards, he had been reassigned here.

“Can’t I kill him?” the boy said boyishly. “He joined Nitro. He’s a rebel.”

“He only did that to save his life,” Master Sapras observed. “Almost anyone would do the same in his position.”

“Kracchus wouldn’t! He would fight to the end!”

“And he would die, and be less useful to you now than a pile of dust. Trust me, my lord, I have seen these kinds of things happen many times before. You cannot go killing everyone, lest you have no one left to rule.”

“What should I do?”

“Provide him a larger garrison, have him swear fealty to you, and move onto the next planet.”

Kuriza looked to the rest of us for answers. Most agreed he should kill Rowane. Capontari offered to do it herself. Fusil wanted to blow up the planet, which was the most ridiculous counsel yet. Planet Frieza 317 was rich in natural resources, especially rare-metal ore deposits, and had a respectably-sized battalion of soldiers. It was too valuable to be destroyed.

Then, the boy lord turned his focus towards me. His beautiful green eyes flickered like raging fire. “What do you think, Lingon?”

My face grew hot. Everyone turned to me. I hadn’t expected to be asked this question. My mind went numb. I was just the boy’s sworn guardian. I wasn’t a strategist like them. I swallowed and decided to go with my gut. It was a risky choice, but I had to do it. “I…” Sapras shifted on his feet, folding his arms, “… I think Sapras has it right, Lord Kuriza. If you spare Rowane, the universe will know what you have done. They’ll know you’re a merciful ruler and they’ll flock to you. They’ll want to serve you, especially those who’ve already joined Icer and Arcterial and Nitro. They’ll know they can come back to the Planet Trade Organization. If you kill Rowane, they’ll have no choice but to stick with their rebel lords for fear of death.”

Kuriza slid off his throne. His Arcosian friends were around him, staring at him like he was radiating eternal light. He walked up to Capontari’s station and pressed a button. “Are you there, governor?”

“Yes, I’m here,” the old man replied through the computer’s speakers. The massive video screen was turned off.

“Okay then. I’m coming down to the planet. We need to talk.”

He cut off the comm, looked up at me, and motioned with his head for me to join him. I did so with great relief. No one else moved; no one else would be going to Planet Frieza 317 with their lord.

Our fleet was smaller now, though if we ever called Rowane to battle in the future, we would have more than we did before. That was a win in my mind. Several of us manned the bridge, moving the fleet towards the next planet Nitro had captured. Rowane had let us know that Nitro had been expanding his empire outwards ever since news of Cooler’s death had reached him. That meant he was currently attacking Frieza’s – Kuriza’s – region. We had to put a stop to that.

And so we were. Off to the nearest planet – Planet Frieza 316, coincidentally enough – the fleet moved in silence. Kuriza’s trusted officers worked the bridge. I held it in his stead. I wondered if he was in his room with the other Arcosians right now and decided to purge my mind of such thoughts.

“Lord Lingon, look!” Zitorin squealed suddenly. “More ships on the long-range scouters!”

“How many?” I asked lazily, not getting up.

“Forty-two!”

That was a massive fleet, enough to get my attention. “What’re the ship sizes?”

“Moderate to large, with an estimated crew of over fifty thousand!”

“Stop the fleet here.”

“Sir?” Capontari sounded concerned. “Is it wise to delay?”

“We need those ships. Stop the fleet.”

“At once, sir,” Commander Fusil replied.

And so we came to a halt, far out of range of the incoming fleet. Where it was headed, I could not guess. But it would be ours if we had our way. Kuriza’s scouter was off again. I’d have to walk in on him again, it seemed.

“I’ll get Kuriza. Fusil, hold the bridge while I’m gone.”

“I will, sir.”

This time I knocked. There was no one in the antechamber, though the room reeked of perfumes and spices and wine. Inside, tucked away in a corner, Kuriza sat at a desk, a frail old alien standing next to him, almost as pale-skinned as the boy. Epikail was his name – the young lord’s educator, who taught Kuriza about all manner of things. With Sapras on board, Kuriza would be brought up as smart as any Arcosian before him. I was glad to see none of the boy’s Arcosian friends in the room with him.

“My lord?”

“What is it, Lingon?”

“There is a fleet of forty-two ships approaching us, my lord. They’re likely space pirates, or they might be Nitro’s fleet. I thought you might want to come take a look.”

“Very well, Lingon.” The boy stood, donned his cloak, and led me out of there. His gait was urgent; I could tell Kuriza was crafting some plan in his mind as we returned to the bridge. “Clear the ship,” he ordered. “Everyone except Lingon and the guards.”

“My lord?” Fusil was confused.

“I’m going to capture that fleet. This is how I’m going to do it. Everyone, get off the ship! I’ll not ask again!” Everyone shuffled out swiftly. Soon they would take escape pods to other ships – not the most practical evacuation maneuver, but the best, given the time we had to work with. When the bridge was cleared, the boy turned to me and asked, “Lingon, can they see my fleet?”

“I don’t believe so, my lord. Our long-range scouters extend far beyond the range of most ships. Unless Nitro’s or Arcterial’s flagships are in that fleet, they’ll have no idea how many ships we have.”

“Good. Order the rest of the fleet back, and send Winter’s Dawn forward. I want them to find us alone.”

“As you wish, Lord Kuriza.”

And so it was done. His flagship, the Winter’s Dawn, moved into the path of the approaching fleet, while the rest of our fleet moved away, hiding behind a nearby gas giant. Kuriza had me power down the ship and gather my men on the bridge. There were three dozen of them. But I wasn’t scared. The boy was stronger than anyone, aside from his uncle and grand uncles. And the long-range scouters showed no power levels coming anywhere close to his full strength. We were safe.

Sitting in the low-powered bridge, where dark red lights shone, it was an anxious scene. The warriors stood and shifted in their armor. The boy sat on his throne, flexing his fists. Only one computer monitor remained active: the one showing the long-range scouters’ feed. I kept my eyes on it, watching the bright red dots approaching us. There were thousands of soldiers in the ships.

“They’re slowing,” I said a few minutes later. “They’ve spotted us.”

“Good. Get into positions, soldiers.”

Everyone hunkered behind chairs and monitors, or took cover behind walls and in doorways. These were my men – the best of the best. They would not lose here. We would not lose. We had trained too hard.

Lord Kuriza grunted as he lowered his power level to near zero – a little trick he had learned from his uncle. Being able to control his power level like that was a skill I knew I’d never be able to master. The lack of effort he showed in mastering high-level skills was breathtaking.

I felt one of the other ships dock against Winter’s Dawn, and soon, my scouter let me know that moderately-powerful beings were approaching us. They had scouters too. They knew just where to look. I swallowed, wiping my palms, and starting charging up my energy. Everyone else did too. No auras. No screaming. We did this silently and professionally. When I looked to the throne, I found that Kuriza had disappeared. I didn’t have time to see where he’d gone before the far door burst open with a sigh of dark fire and smoke.

Into the room soldiers rushed, adorned in the same armor as us. I noticed some familiar species, and some who were not so familiar. At the head of the pack was a ferocious-looking (yet beautiful) Faerin. She wore shoulder-less gold-and-purple armor and a long periwinkle cape.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” I roared.

“Shut up,” the woman snapped. “Whose ship is this?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied.

“This Arcosian saucer we’re standing in right now!” I could detect a biting impatience in her tone. “Is it Nitro’s? Or Icer’s?”

I shook my head. “You broke in here. I don’t have to tell you anything. Get out of here before I kill every last one of you.”

She burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s rich. Your measly force against my fifty thousand,” she chortled. “And all my ships against this one. It may be Arcosian-designed, but those are poor odds all the same.”

“We’ll take our chances.”

She nodded knowingly and stepped forward. “I wasn’t asking. You will tell me whose ship this is and why it broke down out here in the middle of nowhere.”

I raised my palm, revealing a tear-drop-shaped green energy blast. The woman didn’t want to fight; I could see how it pained her to deal with me. That was good. She was an arrogant little shit, thinking that it was beneath her to entertain such a ragged crew. I had met a dozen Faereth just like her. If only we could have given her the information she wanted.

“This is your last chance,” she responded, unafraid. “I’ll take you back to my ship and pull the info out of your brain with my bare hands if I must. You’re going to talk. It’s just a matter of how much pain I have to inflict upon you before you do.”

“Sounds like fun,” I yawned.

She flushed with rage. “Who’s ship is this, cretin?! Answer me!”

“Mine.”

With a metallic whisper, Kuriza dropped from the ceiling, landing behind the woman. He kicked her feet out from under her, sending her to the ground without even turning around. Keeping his eyes trained on the soldiers behind her, he flared up his aura – a deep indigo-crimson color – and absorbed the energy blasts from her sycophants. We stood still.

“Lingon, the power please.”

The lights came back on, revealing each host to one another in perfect clarity. Kuriza stood there, a young boy, barely older than when he used to cry in my arms about nightmares he’d had. He was pale and thin and didn’t look menacing at all – except that he was Arcosian, and in his species final form. Everyone knew what that meant.

“Swear loyalty to me, or die. I’m the King of the Planet Trade Organization now. It’s your choice.”

The men exchanged looks. Suddenly, the Faerin sprung up and tried to attack Kuriza. I dove forward, pinning her to the ground again. She conjured her aura and tried to push me away, but I was at full power. I would not be undone by a woman.

Struggling, she screamed, “They’re my men! You can’t take them!”

“Is that so?” Kuriza asked the men. I saw they were trembling. They knew what he could do to them.

“W-we… served King Cold, milord, I swear!” one piped up. “Under Captain Shyotai! But he went rogue and forced us to go with him! And then he died, and this woman came and made us follow her or she’d kill us!”

“Liar!” she bellowed, trying to upend me. I was too strong. “You belong to me!”

The soldier glanced at her before returning his eyes to Kuriza. “P-please milord… we was only followin’ orders.”

“Good,” the boy said coolly. “Welcome back, my friends. My grandfather was a noble man. It must have been a privilege to serve under him.”

“I-it… was…!” the terrified soldier managed to speak.

The little lord smirked and came to the Faerin, squatting down next to her. “Hello,” he said innocently. He raised one finger, and a tiny red ball materialized over it. The ball did not grow in size. Kuriza didn’t want to blow up his flagship, after all.

She seethed and stared up at him, her face growing dark with hatred. Beads of sweat rolled down her cheeks like tears. “You better not…”

“Why not, eh?” I breathed, pressing her harder against the cold metal.

“Because…” she sneered, struggling as best she could, “I’m important.”

The energy’s fire glittered on the boy’s red-jeweled shoulders “Is that so?”

“Yeah…” she breathed hard.

“Who are you, then?” That was me.

“I’m Admiral Bael’s wife,” she roared, “and if you kill me, that’ll be the biggest mistake of your pathetic lives!”

The boy looked to me. I looked to him. A tingly feeling covered my body. We had just acquired a prisoner of immense value. Bael was one of our greatest threats. If we could somehow use this against him, to bring ruin to him, and Icer maybe, well…

“Sire, it ain’t nothin’ to keep her locked up.”

The boy agreed. Standing up, he dissolved his energy ball, turned back to the soldiers standing in the hallway, and flicked his wrist again. All of them dissolved away in the blink of an eye, except for the one who’d spoken to Kuriza.

“Return to your ship,” the boy spoke deliberately, “and tell everyone what you’ve seen here. I’ll make a broadcast to my new fleet soon. I’ll tell them the rest.”

The man nodded loyally, albeit fearfully, and ran back to his ship.

“Should I contact Bael, my lord?”

“No,” Kuriza said simply. “I have an uncle to deal with first.”

With that, the boy who was nothing like the boy I had once known, turned, marched over to his throne, and sat upon it once again. Never a more splendid sight had I ever seen. He commanded that throne like his father before him. Kuriza may yet be a boy, but he has the sensibilities of a man – a man whom all, especially the surviving members of his family – should fear.

Chapter VI: A Wise Emperor Does Not Forget
Ctaedi’s second sun was beginning to set. Its third was just beginning its morning rise. Smoke plumed over the azure ocean. The air was warm on my fur. My soldiers were few; they were trusted. I held back the main reserve. I wanted as few casualties as possible.

Kneeling, I cupped some sea water in my hand and splashed it over my face. I had a duty to Kuriza; I would not fail him now.

“Form up, men!” I barked, returning to them. They were fifty strong. They were all I needed. “A rebel force has attacked this planet. We are going to kill them. Those are brave men out there, just like you. Let’s show them what we’ve got!”

A collective grunt of pride and power echoed across the floating landing pad. We were in the air, salt on our lips. Lyogan would soon know our wrath. Her master had been routed by Arcterial. As much as we hated that man, he had done us a service here. Lyogan’s fleet was crushed. She was marooned. There was no way out.

Paranoia drove her. I was an admiral in King Kuriza’s empire. I would not fail him. Our power levels betrayed us, as I had expected. Like chem-trails through a powder blue sky, we flew to the dying city. Floating, white-stoned, barely inhabited, N’gatiq was where Lyogan and her lackeys would make their last stand.

They had no clue who we were.

Corpses decorated the streets. Squid-faced aliens bled out across the shining, burnt ruins as smoke rose ever higher. We did not descend. In the sky, I hovered before my men, our scouters beeping erratically. They were below us. Two thousand of them remained, roughly speaking. Some were attacking other cities, but this was the main force; we would stop them here for Lord Kuriza!

“Come out, bastards!” My voice rose above the warm sea winds. The city bobbed like a cork, bleeding into the ocean. “Show your faces!”

A wall of plasma was their answer. Shouting to my men, I diverted us around the assault, and soon we were flying amongst ruins and bodies, exchanging ki blasts with unknown foes. Shouting to my second in command, Commander Ackuran, we halted above the center of the city.

“Stay here! Hold them back! I’ll find her myself!” Spittle flew from my mouth. My heart was pounding.

“Is that wise, Admiral? Wouldn’t it be more prudent for us to attack as one?”

“No. We’ll lose too many men if we do that! Hold them here! I’ll be back!” Roaring, I flexed my muscles, drawing my aura around me, and teleported away.

There were more dead space-badgers than Quglith in the heart of N’gatiq. Lyogan and her force had been here almost a year, attacking the Quglith cities after being marooned by Torlini. No one was coming back for her and her army – even they knew that. So they couldn’t destroy the planet. The Quglith had put up a stout defense. Salza had sent a very small detachment here roughly eight months ago to help defend the planet. They had been utterly destroyed, but at least they had bought the Quglith some time. Now the Quglith army was broken, and few now stood against Lyogan and her terror-driven force. If we weren’t here, the planet would fall within a fortnight.

I was sprinting through the air, jumping and teleporting from one broken building to another. I was too fast for them – no one on this planet had a power level above 30,000. They would all die if they refused to bow to the one true king of the Planet Trade Organization. Roughly a third of Lyogan’s forces were in this city. The rest were scattered, like dead leaves in the wind. They were attacking other strongholds, being held back by Quglith defenders. Even so, there was little time. With Arcterial and Nitro moving against us, and Icer and Bael potentially forging an alliance, I had to get as many men and ships back to Lord Kuriza’s fleet as soon as possible. This could not wait. It would not. Lyogan would learn that soon enough.

Her skin was pale and opalescent, her ears pointed, her form slender and short. She stood amongst her men, shooting ki blasts skyward, hiding behind the cover of rubble. Fresh corpses were bleeding into the white sea-shell like rubble, which had blackened around the scorch-marks and blood stains. They didn’t see me. Good. I was almost compelled to destroy their scouters, but they’d need those scouters once they were with Lord Kuriza. Instead, I took a deep breath, conjured up all my energy, and flew like the winds towards my quarry.

A few of her soldiers caught sight of me as I raced through the smoking city, but their energy, golden and white, flew past me as I easily dodged anything they tried to hit me with. Two men jumped at me, trying to block my advance with their bodies. I quickly chopped them in the necks – not too hard – and kicked off a half-blown-out building before frontflipping over another three men shooting their blasters as they rushed me. Their ki blasts burst through my cape, tearing holes. I fired a white ball of energy into the ground, sending a geyser of debris into the air. Dazed, the soldiers could do nothing to stop my advance.

By the time Lyogan was spinning around to confront me, I had punched her in the chest, cracking her armor, knocking the wind out of her, and was shooting off towards the sky with her in tow. A few soldiers jumped up to follow me, but they were subdued by my own force’s suppressing fire. Three rebels fell from the sky, blackened as the buildings, and no others followed.

“Hold them here, Ackuran! I need to interrogate this one!” I shouted, returning to my men, holding up the coughing Lyogan.

He nodded loyally and said, “They will not escape, sir! On my honor, I won’t let them!”

I retreated to our landing pad, which was several miles offshore from N’gatiq. The white metal shone bright in the light of day. Sea birds screeched, one after the other, overhead. A few landed on walls or ships or light poles to watch us. It was just me and the butcher. She was wheezing still. A salty wind blew through the landing pad, and a few of our parked ships creaked in annoyance.

“I’ve been trying to contact you,” I growled. “Why didn’t you answer me?” She didn’t answer. Leaning over, her chest heaving, the captain spit on the ground. I kicked Lyogan in the stomach, causing her to collapse in a whimper. “Answer me, or die.”

“I-I… the demons…” she sputtered, “They massacred us… I know they came from th-this planet… Torlini brought me here… I’ve been searching for them…”

“There are no demons on this world, you moron!”

“Ye-yes there are…”

“If there were, don’t you think you would have found them by now? How long have you been assaulting this planet?”

“Almost… a y-year…” she admitted.

“That’s right. If there were demons here, they would have attacked you already. You’ve nearly killed all the Quglith. Don’t you think they’d unleash their secret weapon if they had one?”

“B-but…”

“Torlini is dead. He confronted Lord Arcterial in space and a fight ensued. Your shipmaster did not make it out of that battle alive. You are stranded here without any friends and without any hope of rescue.”

She was silent for a few moments, catching her breath. “Kill me then,” Captain Lyogan said at last, her voice full of grief. “You’re right. You won.”

I pulled her to her feet, my claws on her throat. Her eyes were wide. “No,” I whispered, my voice barely audible above the sea winds. “You’re too valuable.” I let her go. “You were the Captain of the Guard on Planet Frieza 113.”

“Yeah… before the demons killed everyone. I failed to protect them. I ran away like a coward. I-I… I’m not…”

“The demons have reappeared elsewhere. They attacked Lord Icer’s son, and almost succeeded in killing him and his father. They ambushed Lady Frost, Lord Arcterial’s last remaining heir, and murdered her. And they’ve been raiding mining outposts all across the empire for the past year without pause. They have slaughtered millions. But they are not here. Ctaedi is yet untouched by those monsters.”

Dejectedly, she asked, “So you want me to help you hunt them down? Is that it?”

“Not yet. I want you and your men to return to the Planet Trade Organization. A lot has happened in the past year. Cooler and his children are dead. Lord Kuriza is now our king.”

“Kuriza?”

“The son of the man you once served.”

“I know who he is,” she snapped.

“Join us, help us squash the rebellions Lord Arcterial, Lord Icer, Lord Nitro, and Admiral Bael are waging against the empire, and then we can turn our focus to these demons. The demons are powerful, but with the full might of Lord Kuriza’s empire behind us, we will crush them.”

“It’s a nice thought.” Her voice was distant. “But I’m not sure it will work.”

“You doubt our power?”

She shook her head. “I doubt that Kuriza can overcome Arcterial or Icer, or even Nitro. His relatives are more experienced than him. They’ll outwit him and defeat his army. One of them will rule the Planet Trade Organization before long.”

“That’s why we need intelligent officers to counsel him. Already, Master Sapras, King Cold’s historian, and a host of other officers from both his father’s and uncle’s empires are on his flagship, aiding and counseling the boy on all matters. We will not be defeated by Arcterial or Icer, I promise you that. But we need you and your soldiers, Lyogan. It would be a tremendous boost to have you on our side.”

“I could join you,” she said thoughtfully.

“Or you could die,” I said. “For all the innocent Quglith you’ve slaughtered, no one would grieve for you or your men. It’s your choice. The warriors I brought with me can easily outfight yours. And I can kill you if I want to.”

“So I don’t have a choice, is that it?”

“Everyone always has a choice,” I reminded her. “But given how seriously you took the threat of the demons, I think you’ll understand the importance of joining our empire. Kuriza is the rightful king of the Planet Trade Organization. If someone else is allowed to usurp him… there will be untold bloodshed. And Arcterial and Nitro don’t even believe in the demons.”

“What?! Are you serious?”

“I am. Only Icer has consistently acted like they’re a threat. He hasn’t declared himself a king, either. If you were to meet with him, maybe he would ally with us instead of Bael or one of the others. You could tell him everything you know. Lyogan…”

Her head had turned away from me, to the sea, to the smoking cities beyond. There were tears in her eyes. “I was so certain,” she said, clenching her fists. “After that minister came to our outpost…”

“Everyone has made mistakes,” I murmured in her ear. “The only thing you have to decide is if you are going to learn from those mistakes or let them consume you.” The wind whistled through my fur. “I need an answer, captain. Our foes are moving. We don’t have much time.”

Not turning back to me, she lowered her head and nodded once, curtly. A rush of adrenaline spread through my body. I nearly grinned. But that would be unseemly. I was an admiral in Lord Kuriza’s empire. I had to maintain my dignity. My claw found the back of her neck, and soon, I was massaging her tired shoulders, and she was crying in my arms. So strange this was. A mere hour ago, I had wanted to kill her. And had Lingon not contacted me, I would have. Yet now…

It was not just happiness I was feeling towards this young, foolish officer anymore.

We tracked him to Planet Frieza 187. The outpost had been abandoned for years. Squatters and space pirates had made the outpost their home in the interim. But Commander Boisenberry had eradicated all of them and had made the outpost the base of his operations before we arrived. His sixty ships orbited the planet, protecting it from invaders. Now he had his own kingdom, one planet strong, from which he could rule like any power-hungry Arcosian.

This man had been a part of Lord Cooler’s inner circle. He had been a high-ranking officer who had been both respected for his feats in battle and for his sharp tactical mind. Only Admiral Articho had outranked him in Cooler’s empire, of those who still lived. Articho was still out there somewhere; we would have to deal with him eventually, I knew. I tried hailing Boisenberry, and at first, he ignored me. But after the seventy-third message, the commander finally picked up.

“What?! What do you want?” he yelled.

“Hello Commander Boisenberry,” I said cordially. “My name is Admiral Kracchus.”

“Kracchus? You’re one of Frieza’s men, aren’t you?”

“I was. Now I serve his son, the rightful king of the Planet Trade Organization.”

“Is that so?”

“Relinquish your fleet and this planet, commander, and you will be allowed to rejoin the PTO. Resist, and I might not be so generous.”

Boisenberry chuckled. “My fleet is larger than yours, Kracchus,” he observed. “Why should I surrender to a weaker man?”

“You are not surrendering to me. I serve Lord Kuriza, sir. You wouldn’t want him to come here himself, now would you?”

“Is he there? I’ll speak to him if he is.”

“No. You’re talking to me, commander.” I let my voice drop to intimidate him.

“I see.”

“There doesn’t have to be bloodshed. You have no support out here. Nitro, Arcterial – hell, even the Faereth – will soon find you. You’ll have to fight them.”

“Maybe I’ll join one of them,” the other alien replied coyly. “If you have the smallest fleet of all, why would I join you?”

“Because Lord Kuriza is the rightful king. Just as we supported you when Cooler took over, you should return the favor.”

“That’s your argument?”

“Very well, commander,” I sighed. “You know my channel. Call me back when you’ve given up.”

“Hahaha, you arrogant bastard! You think you can destroy my fleet? I command Lord Cooler’s finest warriors. I’ll turn you groveling maggots into stardust!”

I cut the comm. Switching frequencies, I spoke, “Lyogan, it’s time.”

“We’re going.”

I waited ninety seconds, then had Ackuran move my fleet forward. From the other side of the planet came Lyogan and her band, along with half of my crew and half of our ships. By the time they were inside the range of Boisenberry’s long-range scouters, it was too late. His fleet was moving towards me, away from the planet, leaving the outpost naked. What few guards Boisenberry had down there wouldn’t last long.

Soldiers in space suits spilled out of the ships like a waterfall. Lyogan was leading them. The camera switched to her scouter feed, and I watched first-hand how she led the soldiers down the atmosphere, dodging the outpost’s turrets and its guards.

The world was a jungle, barely developed, sunk in primordial mist on this cold day. They reached the outpost in a matter of minutes. Even as Boisenberry’s fleet began turning around, we moved forward, my ships taking a few cautionary shots at the opposition. The commander’s fleet was forced to split in half. I had forty ships; Boisenberry had only sixty.

Boisenberry’s guards met Lyogan and the army in midair, just above the outpost. There were maybe a thousand of them. I had given her command of five thousand of my own men, not to mention her own two thousand. Energy blasts were exchanged. A salvo shot up from the fog like the first light of dawn; a larger mass of energy was released down upon the rebels, suffocating their spirit. Dozens of soldiers dropped from the air, burnt and dead, and then Lyogan and her force charged again.

The half of Boisenberry’s fleet that was returning to the planet was almost there. They had little time.

She punched an alien wearing a full body suit before blasting another one away. Two more came at Lyogan, and she performed a spinning kick, shattering their helmets and splattering blood on her scouter. She didn’t wipe it off. I felt a sense of vertigo watching her fight. Another man charged her; she vaporized him with a quick energy blast and landed in the middle of the outpost. Two more guards ran at her, and she dodged their wild punches, deftly sliding around them before hitting their backs with a rapid energy burst. Turning around, she dodged an incoming energy beam by frontflipping over her next foe. Landing behind him, she blew him away with an energy wave explosion. At the same time, a wall of the outpost’s main building was blown asunder.

My soldiers were landing around her. Boisenberry’s defenses were broken. Lyogan shot an arcing energy blast at the building’s generator, and as it exploded, all of the lights went off inside. The scouter’s feed turned green as it adjusted to night vision.

Breathing hard, Lyogan whispered, “What’s his power level again?”

“Twenty-seven thousand,” I said, double checking the officer database from my computer. “You’re good.”

“Right.” She was breathing hard as she snuck into the building. Guards ran past her, as if they couldn’t see her. It was dark, and I knew she could lower her power level, but still… it wasn’t pitch-black.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “How are you getting past them?”

“I’m a Tahmier, admiral. I thought you knew.”

“Oh.” Tahmiers were a species of aliens in Frieza’s region that could turn invisible in near-darkness. I had worked with one a few years ago on a mercenary operation. He’d gotten himself eaten by a space-badger, though. “Go quickly. The ships are almost there.”

“I know… I know…” The woman was trying to calm her breaths so the guards running past her wouldn’t notice. She ran past them, light on her feet, making sure not to touch any of them. They never saw her. She could have fought them, but that would have slowed her down too much. She needed to find Boisenberry now, before he got away. “Got a reading at that level,” she whispered, rounding another dim-lit corner. Alone, she stood up and moved to a door. “This is definitely him. No one else has a power level so high.”

Blasting open the door in a fiery blaze of light, the captain moved inside. In the near darkness stood a man with a flowing emerald cape and polished black-and-green armor. He had a look of horror upon his grey-blue face.

“Sir… they’ve stopped!” Commander Ackuran shouted out. I cut Lyogan’s feed and leaned back in my chair, switching my scouter’s frequency back to the one I had spoken to Boisenberry on before. “The fleets aren’t advancing anymore – neither towards us nor back to the outpost!”

“It’s over,” I yawned. “Lord Kuriza will be most pleased.”

It was good to see Lyogan’s loyalty in practice. I had had my doubts – that’s why five thousand of my own soldiers had accompanied her on this mission. But now she had proven herself, and I was sure she would be a valuable officer in Lord Kuriza’s empire. Perhaps I could even get her promoted for her courageous actions today.

My scouter was ringing. Someone was calling. I grinned and ran my claws through my fur. This was good. I let the scouter ring four times before picking up. Then, trying to mask my glee, I said, “Hello, Commander Boisenberry. What can I do for you?”

Jolean space pirates had ravaged the oil depots of Planet Frieza 130. We stopped by, gathering what supplies we could, and found only a few Joleans scavenging amongst the rubble. They did not survive long. Once we had refueled as many ships as possible, we set off again, Captain Lyogan and Commander Boisenberry with me on the bridge. I did not fear either of them; even their combined power levels were easily eclipsed by my own.

“We’ll meet with Lord Kuriza at once,” I was telling them. “Both of you will be vetted by Lingon and the others, I have no doubt, but it will not take long for acceptable positions to be given to you. The boy needs as much advice as he can get, from as many veteran officers as we can find. Each of you is of sufficient rank to offer him advice.”

Boisenberry folded his arms. “Whom has Articho joined?”

“No one, as far as I know.”

“He has the majority of Cooler’s fleet,” the man reminded me. “We should find him before returning to the emperor.”

I smirked. That man had not but a few hours ago wanted to kill me. Now he was acting as if he had served Kuriza all his life. I knew I had to be careful around him. “We’ll return first. I have been gone too long already. One of our king’s foes could be planning to attack soon. We need to be with him in case that happens.”

“I’m just saying,” Boisenberry shrugged. “Articho would make a big difference.”

“I heard he became a space pirate,” Commander Ackuran observed. “He could have reached the fringes of the empire by now for all we know. It will take weeks, if not months, to track him down.”

“No way! Articho isn’t a space pirate! Space pirates are the worst. He would never sink that low! I knew him myself! He would never become one of them!”

“What do you call what you were doing on 187, eh?” Lyogan’s voice was sharp. “Don’t tell me, you were just waiting for us to show up so we could escort you back to Lord Kuriza.”

“Funny girl,” he replied. “I was waiting for someone, aye. You know who? Right, didn’t think so. It was Nitro. Nitro contacted me. He told me his fleet admiral was coming to the outpost soon, and I was preparing to join him there.”

“Why Nitro?”

“He has the largest fleet, my lord,” Boisenberry said plainly. “And he’s the only one expanding right now. He has a defined territory, and he’s using his massive fleets, which have thus far been untouched in these recent PTO conflicts, to take over planets in Frieza’s and Cooler’s territories. I thought he was the best tyrant for me to ally myself with.”

“Nitro’s our biggest threat right now,” I admitted, “but that is only because of his position. If Arcterial or Icer had the same resources as Nitro, they’d be far more potent threats.”

“My lord… incoming message!”

“Who is it?” I barked.

“I don’t know, but it’s marked urgent,” said Ackuran.

“Open the feed.”

There before us stood a narrow-faced furry creature who looked as angry as a space-badger on space heroin. “Hello, Admiral Kracchus.”

“Sir, ships have appeared on the radar! Dozens of them! Hundreds!”

“Stay the fleet,” I replied calmly, raising my hand. At once, our ships shuddered to a stop. “Who are you?” I asked the man on the screen. “What do you want with us?”

“Hello Commander Boisenberry,” the furious rodent shouted. “So nice to see you’re well!”

“Kracchus, that’s Admiral Po,” Boisenberry said in a deflated tone.

“Oh.”

“Yes,” Po grinned, “Thought you could get away from us, did ya? Lord Nitro will be most pleased to hear of your fates. Justice,” he murmured, licking his lips, “oh, it has never tasted so sweet!”

“The only one dying today is you,” I told him bluntly. “You and your master are traitors. You have sealed your own fates.”

“Have we? If you are so confident you can defeat me, then come and get me. I’m waiting, admiral.”

The feed became a blank, buzzing screen.

“How many ships does he have?” My crimson cape was billowing behind me.

“Two hundred thirty-four.” Ackuran shifted at his console. “We have one hundred forty ships, my lord.”

“The odds are not so bad,” I breathed.

“My lord…” Ackuran’s voice shook with fear.

“Prepare the charge, commander. We’ll smash through their arrogant lines and show them the power of Lord Kuriza’s empire.”

Several soldiers raised their fists in silent honor. The lights dimmed to a dull red. The fleet lurched forward.

“Admiral Kracchus… shouldn’t we think this through a little?” Lyogan’s eyes were wide with fear. I put a claw on her neck and massaged her again as I had before. She moaned lightly. Boisenberry stood close to the looking window, his stout warrior frame silhouetted by a million spectating lights. Lyogan’s fear did not subside. “We won’t make it, sir… we won’t survive this… you have to turn back!”

“I must remind Po that Nitro has no right to rule our empire. None of these planets are his, nor are any of us going to be intimidated by him. He has been allowed to ravage and capture scores of planets without consequence. No longer.”

“Sir, they’ve split into a pincer attack!” Ackuran yelled in dismay.

I stood. Suddenly, I felt fear. Looking out both side windows, I saw the dark ships closing in. “N-no…” Po was smarter than he seemed. That tactic was the only one that could wipe us out. Our charge would be for nothing.

“Admiral!” Lyogan’s voice was high and full of fear. The deep red lights were hurting my eyes. I paced back and forth.

“Which side is closing in first?” I asked of our pursuers.

“The left side, my lord.”

“Turn the fleet left. We’ll push through them and return to Kuriza,” I whispered. “Tell the other ships to move as quickly as possible and not to stop. We can’t beat Po. He doesn’t just have the numbers… he’s intelligent too. Clever beast! I feared he might be, but…” I had only ever seen one other admiral try this style of attack. This pincer formation was supremely suited towards corralling and utterly destroying a smaller force. We were lost if we didn’t do something fast.

“We’ll lose dozens of ships that way,” Boisenberry noted.

“But not all,” I replied fiercely. “If we stay here, surrounded by them, we’ll be butchered into oblivion.”

“Aye.”

“Ackuran, do it!!”

“Yes, admiral.”

Our ship lurched right. I grabbed a nearby computer console in order not to fall over. Gritting my teeth, all I could think about was how close we’d gotten… how close we’d been to returning home with 140 ships, tens of thousands of able-bodied warriors, and several new officers to command soldiers and counsel our young king. And now, that hope was fading faster than a dying star.

Silently, the plasma left the black ships, gaining speed as they approached us. We all fired back; my 140 ships were a match for one side of the pincer, but at the very least, we would be taking equal casualties here. And they would be many, either way.

A smaller spacecraft moved in front of mine, blocking a plasma burst from making contact with my flagship. It exploded in a soundless flash of vaporizing flames, before drifting away, lightless and charred. Other ships were exploding around us; a plasma burst washed across the side of my ship, causing us to fall over and the lights to fade.

“We won’t survive another hit!” Ackuran was screaming.

Three dozen of Po’s ships were aflame ahead of us, opening an exit for us. “Hold steady, Ackuran! Push everyone through the opening! Go, go, go!”

“The other side of the pincer is closing in on our rear, sir!”

“Go faster!”

“My lord… the ships are moving as fast as they can!”

“Fine, where’s my space suit?”

“Admiral?! What are you doing?!”

“Saving everyone I can.”

Boisenberry was beside himself. “That’s madness! What could you possibly do to save anyone out there?”

I wasn’t listening to them. Outside the looking glass, the desolate void exploded energy and death. It was time to do something about that. A guard brought me my space suit, and I zipped it over my head in a few seconds.

“Admiral Kracchus, please, don’t do this! You’ll die.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Then I’m going with you,” the captain declared. “Two’s always better than one, right?”

“You’re not–”

“There’s no time to argue with me, sir!” she said indignantly, walking over to the bridge’s closet to get her own space suit. Sighing, I shrugged. Looking to Boisenberry, I half-expected him to say something equally as stupid and loyal, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Open the looking window, commander.”

“As you command, sir.” Ackuran sounded tired. “It’s been a pleasure serving under you, Admiral Kracchus.” He bowed stiffly.

“If I don’t make it,” I told him, “give my regards to Kuriza. Lay all the blame at my feet. I should have expected this.”

The commander nodded cheerlessly. In the next breath, I was flying out into the void, Lyogan hot on my heels. Shivering, even with all my space padding, I turned around, and looked out over the fleet behind me. Many ships were aflame or half-vaporized. It was true – the other half of Po’s pincer was closing in on the back of our fleet, soon to swallow it up.

“That’s our target,” I told Lyogan.

“What, not the ones in front of us?” she said, gesturing to the remnants of Po’s left pincer.

I shook my head. “The gap is wide enough already. We’ll take some casualties, but no more than expected. We’ll really lose a lot of ships from this problem back here! Come on, follow me!”

And so we were off in a blur, dodging sailing plasma and exploding spacecraft. Pale, frozen bodies and shrapnel flew around us, but we never lost focus. The stars blurred into lines around me as I flew with all my power. Just as the other half of the pincer was reaching the back of our fleet, I arrived.

Huffing and puffing, I drew two energy beams in my hand – a blue one in my right, a green one in my left. Both boiled and danced like flames.

“Follow my lead!” And with that, I was off to the dark-approaching ships. We had the element of surprise, and our size would make us nimble, but even I knew this probably wouldn’t end well. The best case scenario was that we would stall the ships long enough for my fleet to escape. We’d be left behind, of course, but that had always been the plan.

Huge teardrops of plasma crossed the sky. As I flew, I shot my first few energy beams at those, exploding them in midair before they could reach the retreating ships. After a few dozen such occurrences, Po’s sycophants realized something was wrong and turned their attention to us. As small as we were, we could no longer be ignored. That is when Lyogan and I turned our energy to them. Ripping through dark metal, our light-colored plasma blew up ship after ship. They tried to fire back, but I was too fast. My power level was over 100,000. I would not be so easily defeated. Lyogan, on the other hand…

I drew all the attention to myself. Soaring over the fleet, I rained vicious hellfire down upon them. Some were sturdy enough to take a few good shots, but none of them could survive many. Even so, my energy was running out. I didn’t have enough to take all of the ships out. I looked back over my shoulder. The fleet had moved through the broken pincer, mostly intact, and was shooting off to the stars, to Lord Kuriza. Po would be a fool to pursue them, and he did not. Instead, every ship in the fleet now focused on Lyogan and me. I was panting hard. My fur was wet. I had taken out a dozen ships. It wasn’t enough.

After blasting through one more ship, I found Lyogan, and we huddled amongst the wreckage, trying to regain some energy and survive just a little bit longer.

“So, this is what you wanted, is it? You wanted to die out here with me?”

She smiled. “Sure as hell beats dying inside one of those metal death traps.”

“I’m going to try one last attack. It’s going to use up all of my remaining energy. I don’t think it’ll be enough, but it’ll take out a lot of Po’s ships – at least I hope it will.”

“Right, I’ll help you, sir!”

Jumping away from the rubble, I raised my right hand. “I learned this technique from Lord Kuriza himself. It’s the signature move of his family. Supernova!!!” I roared, and a red dot appeared over my pointed index finger. The burning ball of energy grew with every screaming grunt I unleashed – from the size of a head to that of a small space ship, to that of a building, larger, larger, larger until it was the size of a moon. Lyogan was screaming too, shooting blue-white energy beams into the side of the swelling sphere, making it grow even larger. My vision went blurry as I grit my teeth and put every last bit of energy I had into this attack. I had never strained myself like this before. My throat was burning. My head was swimming. My bones were on fire. It was all over.

Rising above the rubble, I hovered with the giant ball above my fingertips, breathing so hard I had to hunch forward so as to not pass out.

The ships were waiting for me like hungry animals, though they had not expected this attack. When I threw my Supernova, the ones in Po’s vanguard had not enough time or maneuverability to get out of the way. A brilliant flash of red light exploded across space. Plasma was racing towards me. It was so warm I could feel it through my space suit. I closed my eyes, accepting my fate. It was all over. I had done all I could do.

She pulled me down by my neck, jerking me hard. The plasma just barely missed us. Crashing into floating debris, we hugged one another, exhaustion overtaking us. I knew neither one of us could dodge again.

“H-ho-how many…?” I asked, for there was nothing else on my mind.

“A lot of them, admiral… but not all.”

“No, of course not…”

“A-are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s make them work for it,” I muttered, pushing off from the debris, flying slowly away from the fleet like a wounded bird.

At once, a flash of light overtook my vision and I let out a scream – I thought this was it. Yet, what was now there in front of us was not angry, burning plasma, but a small, two-seat ship. And piloting it was none other than Commander Ackuran.

“Sorry sir, I couldn’t leave you behind.” He opened the cockpit and drifted out into space. He was wearing a spacesuit too.

“G-go… go with Ackuran…” I begged Lyogan.

“No, sir, you don’t understand,” Ackuran interrupted me. “You’re both leaving. I’m staying.”

“Wh-what? N-no!!” I sobbed. “No, not you!”

“Sir, we wouldn’t be able to get away safely if I left either one of you here. You’ve both spent all your energy. I have some energy left to spare. I can distract the fleet long enough for you to return to Lord Kuriza and the others. Please, there’s no time to argue. Which one of you will drive?”

“Me,” Lyogan breathed hard. “I’ll do it. I’ve flown this kind of ship before.”

“Alright, go then!”

“Ackuran!!” I shouted, my hand outstretched, as Lyogan pulled me into the hovering spacecraft.

“Goodbye, admiral. Please make sure Lord Kuriza wins the war,” he said sadly, smiling and turning away.

In the blink of an eye, he was shooting towards the fleet, a white aura wrapped around him. Their plasma was trained on him, shooting up and up and up as he flew over the fleet, trying to hold them off for as long as he could. But his power level was only 24,000. He didn’t have that much energy to spare.

She put me in the back seat and then we were off, flying at the limits of the tiny scout craft’s capabilities. If we would have gone any faster, the little ship would have torn itself to pieces. I kept my eyes on the fleet. The ships were too dark to see now, like black icebergs on Planet Frieza 01. But I could see the flashes of plasma, like angry lightning, shooting upwards unceasingly.

And then they stopped, and the void became dark again.

“Rise, Kracchus.”

My eyes rose with my body to look upon the crimson-pale king, draped in his fine silks and attended to by young Arcosians and steadfast guards. Master Sapras stood to his left, Lingon to his right. In the dim light, perfume rank in the air, I couldn’t hide my shame.

“My lord…” I began, unable to find the words.

“Enough.” The boy king raised his hand. “What is the status of the fleet?”

“Ninety-seven ships, my lord.”

“And Uncle Nitro’s?”

“We destroyed at least a hundred of them. I cannot give precise numbers.”

He was more mature now than when I had last seen him. He held himself in a dignified way that reminded me of his father. “Excellent. Sapras, get the full report from Kracchus. I’ll be in my chambers if you need me.”

In a wisp of sweet perfume, flowing multi-colored silk drifting through the dark doorway, I was alone with Sapras. We wore our armor unabashed, and I couldn’t help but think that things had changed since I’d left.

“It’s unfortunate that you ran into Po’s host, admiral,” he said apologetically.

“We shattered his fleet. That’s all that matters, right?”

“Not exactly.” Sapras tittered and collected himself. “There are more foes than just Nitro.”

“But Nitro’s the strongest. He’s the one pushing forward.”

“He is. He has the largest fleet of us all, if the numbers are to be believed. But I think he is a star who will burn out quickly – this rapid expansion strategy of his… he cannot hope to hold the planets that he’s claiming – not if we, or Arcterial, or Icer have anything to say about it. He has taken us by surprise, but that surprise will not last long, admiral. Soon, he will be pushed back to his original territory, and the real battles will begin.”

“How many ships do they have? Do you know?”

“I have guesses,” the historian admitted. “I have sources – spies within every empire. They tell me what they know, but they don’t always know the truth.”

I folded my arms, my fur standing on end. “Out with it then.”

“Seven hundred sixty-three ships for Nitro. Four hundred eighty-nine ships for Bael. Four hundred twenty-seven ships for Arcterial. And for Icer…” Sapras paused, thinking about which words to choose, like he was choosing between the choicest of meats for dinner, “I don’t actually have a reliable sources for him, I’m afraid. My best guess would be that he has around three hundred or so ships in his fleet.”

“And what of us?”

“Well… with our recent additions… seventeen ships… That brings the total to five hundred thirty-one.”

“That’s not bad.”

“Not great, either. Lord Nitro should not have such an advantage over us,” Sapras said with worry. “Not only is he stronger than Lord Kuriza, but he commands more warriors…”

“Not so many as your sources would have you believe,” I noted. “We took out at least one hundred of his ships. His advanced fleets are reeling; they’re wounded. The time is ripe for a counterattack.”

“True, but know this admiral: should we wage large-scale war against Nitro, Arcterial (and perhaps the others) will swoop in behind us to wipe out whichever side wins. It’s a strategy I have seen play out far too often, with too much success for it not to be employed by at least one of our other foes.”

“Let them try,” I said in defiance. “You have spies; I have the ships. We can plan accordingly.”

“Oh, yes, admiral.” It looked like Master Sapras was stifling a smile. “That may work. By chance… do you know the tale of Captain Baurbocco?”

“Never heard of him.”

“I assumed as much.” Sapras walked over to the looking window. A forested planet lay within view – and beyond it, an army of stars. “He was a captain who worked for Lord Kuriza’s grandfather about seventy years ago.”

“He must have been a skilled warrior.”

“Oh no, no.” Sapras’ eyes lit up like latent amber flames. “He was dreadful, an absolute oaf! But he did do one thing right… One time, Captain Baurbocco got marooned on a planet not unlike this one below us,” he said, gesturing to the window. “And that drew the attention of Sar-kal the Slayer.”

“Never heard of him.”

“The history books have,” Sapras said dryly. “It was poetic justice, in a way, how Baurbocco and Sar-kal met their ends. I certainly cannot complain, as the historian who documented the events. Anyways, back to the story. Baurbocco let us know what was going on, and King Cold’ fleet arrived above the planet before Sar-kal could escape. The Slayer had been a particular thorn in Cold’s side for more than a decade.”

“So they trapped him?”

“I suppose. Baurbocco did not survive. Before any of us arrived, Sar-kal killed him. It would have been a much more melancholy tale had Baurbocco been an officer of higher rank, or a man with a better bloodline. As it were, King Cold replaced him easily with a young soldier named Shyotai.”

“I fail to see the point of this story,” I told him.

“You see, Kracchus, history has a way of repeating itself.” His eyes were glimmering like stars. “There is only so much a man can do before he repeats the mistakes of his forefathers.”

“Go on then.”

“I have a plan for how to defeat Nitro without rousing the prying eyes of Arcterial or Bael. It’s dangerous, and you may end up like Baurbocco. But it’s the only way, I think – the only way to assure Kuriza’s uncle does not win.”

“Alright, tell me.” I sighed, shaking my fur. “You already know that I’d die for him.”

“I do.” Sapras smiled, flashing his teeth suddenly. I stepped back, almost in revulsion. I had never seen the beast so elated. “It will take time, I fear, to set this trap. Months, perhaps – a year if we’re unlucky. But before we try my idea, you have to assure me that Kuriza’s empire will last that long anyways.”

“Of course it will,” I laughed loyally. “I’ll not let anyone near him! They cannot touch my lord!”

“Perhaps,” Sapras nodded, eyeing me queerly. “We do have five hundred ships.”

Chapter VII: The Bleeding Empire
He sat on a throne of silver and sparkling jewels. Lord Arcterial wore our species’ second form well. An alien in smoky grey robes had been talking with the giant Arcosian, but when I was escorted into the throne room, he left. His skin was sickly white with pinkish bits on his ears and around his eyes, and on the crescent-shaped fleshy appendage growing from the back of his skull. His hair was pulled back; his beard was trimmed to a point. Every step he took reverberated with grace. He didn’t so much as glance in my direction as he passed by, though his perfume hung in the air long after he left, sweet and tinged with sharp alien spices.

“Senator Sanu,” the seated man said commandingly. “It’s good to have you here. I hope this trip wasn’t too taxing on you.”

I shook my head. “It was fine, Arcterial.”

Standing next to the man, a red light blinking from a metal box that had been surgically implanted in his throat, was the lizard traitor. The rumors were true. He hadn’t killed the beast; I suppose that should not have surprised me. Cooler had wanted Zashisaro for himself after what he had done on our homeworld. But then our king got himself killed on Earth. Still, I was uneasy. Why was Arcterial using such a treacherous creature as one of his advisors? There were others, of course, but none were as distinguished or intelligent as Zashisaro, I’d wager. They stood around or pretended to work on their computers. Meanwhile, the greatest threat to the Planet Trade Organization, at least at one time, was now allied with its self-proclaimed king. Not that the lizard had a choice – that device in his throat surely compelled him.

This place looked as miserable as I expected. Though his throne was regal, and so too was he, Arcterial’s servants looked dejected, tired, scared. He himself sported several new scars across his chin and chest. The grief was still plain upon his face, even though it had been months since his children had been lost.

“Have you brought an army with you?” He sat brooding upon his throne, but I was not intimidated. I was a senator of Planet Arcose. At the very least, I was his equal.

“No. I have not, sir. The senate has not voted to name you our king.”

He clenched a fist. “You voted no, or have not voted at all?”

“We have yet to vote, Arcterial. But I do not see you winning any vote we take.”

“No, that would go to Kuriza, wouldn’t it? My grand nephew. A boy deserves the allegiance of the Arcosian army, not a man?”

Remaining composed, I recited, “It is most likely we will vote to abstain from any further involvement in these wars.”

“Typical. Your lot have always been cowards!” Arcterial stood, his deep purple cape swinging behind him like a fluid pendulum. “Arcose is a planet under the Planet Trade Organization’s treaty! You owe your allegiance to the rightful king.”

“Have you declared yourself, Arcterial?” I was unsure; as of leaving my homeworld, he had made no formal announcement.

“Of course I have, you miserable fool! My grand nephew was going to – I learned from an inside source – so I declared first. I am the rightful ruler of the Planet Trade Organization, not him.”

He was fuming; his eyes were bloodshot. All of his men looked to me. I stood alone in this mad gale. “Forgive me, sir, but is it not true that the kingship passes from father to son? So would not King Cold’s line go through Cooler, and then Frieza, and then Nitro before coming to you?”

He waved me off. “What we need right now is a strong leader. Our empire will not survive if we let a boy take over. It is too critical a time!”

He conceded his right to rule in those words, as flagrantly as any politician. I nodded, knowingly. “Kuriza, Nitro, and Nitro’s daughter stand before you in the line of succession, Arcterial. That is a fact that most Planet Trade Organization councils, outposts, and armies will know and respect. They will be compelled to join Kuriza, even if he is just a boy. It is his right to rule.”

Arcterial wanted to kill me. I could see it in his eyes. “My grand nephew has a host of our kind on his ship. Where did he get them from?”

The accusation took me by surprise. His anger truly was blinding. “I-I… there are no sanctioned soldiers serving Kuriza, sir. He may have friends or some who chose to follow him on their own, but we have not given him any–”

“Quiet, you fool! I oughtta destroy your homeworld for daring to oppose me!”

It took me a moment to catch my breath. “A-arcterial… Arcose is your homeworld too. You would wipe out your own species over this?”

“Why not?” He looked insane. Spittle ran down his mouth. He paced in front of his throne; none of his soldiers dared look at him, but they were all watching. They were fearful for their own lives, I could tell. They didn’t care about me. In fact, they probably hated me for rousing such a fury in their master. I could see this outburst was not out of the ordinary. Probably not since…

“We are trying to act prudently here–”

“Arcose is in the Planet Trade Organization,” the man reminded me. “You owe your allegiance to me. It’s that simple. You go back to your damn senate and tell them they have one choice to make if they want to survive the year.”

“Is that a threat, Arcterial?”

“It is a statement of fact. I do not tolerate rebellions in my territories.”

“But, sir… we have already gone over this… Kuriza is the rightful ruler…”

“Silence!” The tyrant turned to his sycophant. “Zashisaro, bring me Torlini.”

“At once, masssster,” the slave hissed pleasantly.

We stood in tension-bound silence, Arcterial glaring at me. “We don’t want war, Arcterial,” I said boldly, trying to defend my planet. “We have suffered too much already. We need time to heal, time to recoup our losses.”

“Now is not that time,” he whispered coldly. “Not until my empire is secure.”

Zashisaro returned, a gold-dipped skull in hand. Its eyes were dark rubies; its teeth were polished silver. The skull was elongated, with uncomfortably large eye sockets and a protruding jaw. I did not recognize the species of this fallen alien. The lizard kneeled before his lord and presented the trophy like a cup of a wine. The Arcosian snatched it without so much as looking at it. His face had gone a dark purple in either fury or embarrassment. I would guess it was the former.

“Look, senator.” He raised the skull to my face.

“I see it. It’s beautiful.”

“It took him two months to die,” the man muttered so that only I could hear him. “Every day that pathetic worm lay in agony, pleading for death. I made sure he was in excruciating pain every single second he breathed, until his body could no longer handle it. I made sure he paid for his sins against me, Senator Sanu. I am a man of my word. I do not let those who wound me get away unscathed.”

“I would suggest you turn to your immediate foes then, sir,” I cautioned him. He would be an absolute imbecile if he attacked Arcose. He’d set everyone against him; I knew he knew that. His threat was as empty as Zashisaro’s loyalty. If that beast didn’t have that metal device in his throat controlling his movements… “Kuriza, Bael, Icer, Nitro. Those are the men you must kill if you want our support outright. If you simply take out Kuriza, and Nitro and his daughter… that would be enough for the other senators. You know as well as I do that they are the only threats to your power at this time, except for the Galactic Bank of course.”

“Icer has not declared himself king. I don’t know what game he’s playing,” Arcterial said, stepping back. “But he killed my daughter. He set up an ambush and then lied that space demons got her…”

“Sir, they did.” I was shocked at his blindness. “The only witness…”

“Bought and paid for by Icer. There are no space demons.”

“They have killed millions, Arcterial. Wiped out entire systems in Frieza’s and Cooler’s regions. They are a known threat, and as much as you may hate your brother, you cannot let that hate blind you into thinking a true threat does not exist. You hurt only yourself by doing so.”

“I will kill them all,” Arcterial promised. “And when Icer lies dying at my feet, he will admit that he made up these demons. He will admit that they never existed.”

“You don’t believe that.”

Arcterial grinned. I didn’t know what to take from that. “Kuriza, Nitro, and Yuki are my primary concerns at this time, you’re right about that. Icer may be more dangerous than any of them, but he can be dealt with last. First I must wipe out Kuriza, then I can turn to Nitro. His daughter will die with him, but if she escapes, it’s no matter. No one will support a monstrous half-breed such as herself.”

“You may be right.” It was a good point. There was some rationality still in this man’s brain; he was not yet lost. Maybe his emotion was understandable. He’d lost both of his children in the span of a few days. And all of that had happened less than a year ago. I wondered what I would do if I held as much power as him and had just lost all of my children.

“Once Kuriza is dead, I will threaten to destroy Faeri,” he declared. “They will surrender their fleets, and I will execute Bael openly, for all the universe to see. Everyone must know the price of rebellion,” he said, eyeing me. “There are many foes yet to deal with, and little time to unify this empire before the Galactic Bank or some other upstart alien coalition attacks us, to see if the Planet Trade Organization has finally become too weak to defend itself. I know what is going to happen, senator. I’m aware of the timetable and the stakes. That is why I need the reserve army on Arcose. I need to move quickly, to crush everyone before we all go down in flames. If you’d rather put your trust in a boy, or a recluse, or a monster… do so. But you will secure the fate of our species if you make such a mistake.”

I nodded curtly. “I’ll let the others know. I cannot promise that our vote will go in your favor, however.”

“It better not go in favor of Kuriza or Nitro,” the man said. He didn’t even mention Icer, but that was fine. There was no way we would pick Icer as our king. No one would. He was the odd man out. He was the only one I was certain would not survive this conflict.

Shortly, I was away, like that grey-robed alien before me. Returning to my ship, I made my way through empty hallways which were decorated in bleak indigo metal. I saw no one on my way back at first; this place was dead. Arcterial’s home base betrayed his current state. Even if he boasted and threatened me, I knew he lacked as large a fleet as the Faereth or Kuriza, or perhaps even Nitro at this time. He was still gathering forces, but he would struggle to match the other fleets soon. Of course, it helped that he was as powerful as he was. Should he find the Faereth Fleet, he could smash them himself. But he would have to transform into his final form to do so. And even that might only barely be enough.

Rounding another corner, approaching the landing pad that was outside the throne room, I ran into another Arcosian. I recognized him, for his father had been a former senator I had known well (who had lost his last election, it must be said). “Desolé?”

The younger man stopped, surprise coloring his face. “Senator Sanu?”

“It’s good to see you.” We exchanged a robust hug.

“What are you doing here, my lord?”

“I had a meeting with Arcterial.”

“Oh, he wants the army, right?”

“That’s correct.”

“My lord… you didn’t give it to him, did you?” There was apprehension in his voice.

“I said we would vote on the matter.”

He shrugged. “If you give it to anyone except Kuriza…”

“I know. He’s the rightful ruler of the Planet Trade Organization.”

“Madness.”

“I know.” A silence fell over us. “How are you doing?” I asked at last, a little awkwardly.

“I’m okay, sir,” he said, averting his eyes.

“Arcterial doesn’t believe you.

“Huh?” The genuine shock on his face took me aback.

“About the demons…”

“Oh, yeah, that… well, that doesn’t matter. The past is the past, I guess. Anyways, I’ve got to go, my lord. It was nice seeing you again. If you see my father, tell him I’m doing well. I’ve been busy, but I’ll return home to visit as soon as I can.”

I had not the heart to tell him his father was no longer a senator. “I will, Desolé.”

The young Arcosian scampered out of there, his head bowed, his feet moving as quickly as possible. I wondered what was going on. Why didn’t Desolé care that Arcterial didn’t believe in the demons? He had been so adamant in his report, which had been sent not only to Arcterial, but to Icer and Cooler and the rest of us. He had sent his tearful message to every outpost, to every planet, warning us all of the impending storm. But now…? What had come over him? He was acting suspicious. If only I had the time to investigate.

I sighed, rubbing my temples, as I passed through the next door, out to my landing pad, and wondered what I would say to the other senators waiting for me back home about this madman who had named himself king.

Altarin VI had the best Ijukun blood spices this side of the galaxy. I stopped by the floating asteroid market to pick up a few things on my way home, and decided, once I had put my groceries back in my ship, that since I had made good time, I could spend a few hours relaxing. That’s just what I needed.

A weather-beaten winesink dug into the grey-brown rocks further up the road, a short walk from Altarin’s marketplace. I couldn’t count the number of times I had lifted up the heavy metal latch and climbed down the stairs into the dim-lit, smoke-filled bar underground. This place was like my second home.

On the next door, the wood rotting from the hinges, there was a poster with a blue-skinned female space pirate on it that read: ‘Large Reward offered for any information on the self-proclaimed ‘Blue Queen’. Contact your local Planet Trade Organization officer with any leads, or for more information.’ The poster was ripped and its edges curled – long had it rested on this crumbling door. I knew nothing of the Blue Queen, whoever she was, but I was fairly certain that no one on this asteroid would give any leads to the PTO, even if they knew anything. She was still out there, doubtless, and we would never catch her.

I ordered the Altarin Firefly – a mix of local spices and space rum and chilled fire wine. It was the specialty of this bar, and I’d be damned if it wasn’t my favorite drink in the universe.

My cloak thrust over me, I took a seat in the back, finding an unoccupied table out of the light. There, I sipped sweet nectar and went over in my head how to approach the senate about Arcterial. I knew I had to be prudent. Any mistake could result in millions of deaths.

Next to me, a Sobren, a Frog-faced alien, and a black-furred Heoli took their seats. I could smell the alcohol on them even from where I sat. They were already drunk, and in each of their claws, fresh glasses swirled with dark liquid. I tried to ignore the three, but their voices rose above the general din of this disreputable place.

“He declared lass night,” the Sobren cackled, his long black braids of hair swinging back and forth after he leaned his head back to take a shot.

“Nitro ain’t gotta chance!” the oily-skinned, frog-like one croaked. His skin was black and orange, the colors spotted and fading into one another. On his neck and chin, the colors dulled almost to a green-grey color. “Not with Arcterial ‘n Kuriza already declared!”

“We g-gotta chhhhhoose ssssides soon!” the Sobren hiccuped. “Whaddya boys think?”

“Kuriza’s king! He’s the real one!” the froggy squeaked. “He’s the son of Frieza!!”

“Arcterial’s more experienced,” the Heoli muttered, his red-yellow eyes staring down at the table. He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “I’d take him over the kid any day. Even if his fleet’s smaller, he’s smarter. He’ll outwit the boy and destroy him soon enough.”

“Yeh, b-but whaddabout Icer?!” The Sobren’s face was flushed pink. “He could make himself king too, everyone is!”

“Icer’s no king!” the froggy complained. “No king for me, no king at all!”

That made the Sobren laugh. “He’s biding hissss time, yeh? Lots of other armies out there.”

“I heard that Faerin Bael’s gonna smash ‘em all!”

“Fuck the Faereth,” growled the Heoli. “They don’t have a chance. Any one of royal Arcosians could destroy their fleet by themselves. It’s just a matter of time before Bael comes face-to-face with one of those monsters.”

“Thass right! I wanna join space pirates,” the Sobren said with petulence. “I’ve alwaysss wanted to be a space pirate, yaaargh! I could get a sssssweeeeet bandana hah, and baggy pants and a p-p-pirate shhhirt, and…”

“You’re too drunk, fool! If we join a band of space pirates, we’ll end up dead for sure. What do you think’s gonna happen to all the fleets and officers and planets that haven’t joined sides yet? When it’s over, the winner’s gonna wipe ‘em all out!”

“Heh, yeh! I dun wanna die!” The Sobren whooped, downed another shot, and flung the glass at the wall. “That’s it, less join Arcterial!!”

“Hey, but what about Admiral Articho?!”

“Whaddabout him?”

“He’s got a fleet too.” The froggy sipped his dainty red-liquid drink from a wide-rimmed glass and sighed. “A big one, I heard! Most of Cooler’s ships!”

The Heoli’s eyes flashed up. “It’s a pity Cooler’s children are dead.”

“Whass Articho doing with ‘em?”

“No one knows for sure, but I say we join him! The rumor is he’s leaving the Planet Trade Organization with his fleet to set up a new empire far away! Getting out of the wars sounds good to me! I’d rather join a new empire than fight a bunch of wars for a dying one! The Planet Trade Organization’s finished! Let’s jump ship boys!”

“Now thass a plan!” slurred the Sobren. He took another drink.

I couldn’t help but snort with amusement. The sharp-faced froggy turned to me and scowled. “What’re you laughing at, stranger?”

I stood with my empty glass. I had had enough of these unsavory fellows. “It doesn’t matter who you join, you sad drunken fools,” I told them, “because soon enough, the Galactic Bank will descend upon us, and no one will escape their wrath.”

“Whoa, he’sssss an Arcosian!” The Sobren’s pointing finger trembled.

“Arcosian, stop!” the froggy man squealed. “Come back!”

I turned to them again against my better judgment. “What?”

“Who’s side are you on?” the froggy asked. The Heoli’s molten eyes never left me. The Sobren downed another drink.

I smirked, despite my position. “It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because as a senator of Planet Arcose, I am but one voice in seventy-seven. Together we choose who to support; it matters little what an individual wants.”

The frog-faced alien and the Sobren had their mouths wide open, staring at me in fear and wonder. It was not very often they met someone of my position. Nor could they guess at my power, but that was good. I didn’t want any confrontations here.

“You lie,” the Heoli sneered.

“Excuse me?”

“The Galactic Bank. They aren’t coming for us. You lie.”

I shrugged, betraying a small smile. As I went to leave, the Sobren lunged at me, swearing under his breath. I felt him coming. Without turning around, I slapped him across the face with my tail, sending him back into the froggy alien’s chair. Both of them hit the ground hard, hollering and splitting wood. Looking over my shoulder, I saw the Sobren lying there dazed, a large wound opened across his face, below one eye and extending above the other. Blood was just beginning to seep out, in dark tears. The frog alien was stuck under his friend, and he had not the strength to escape from the bigger alien’s pin. Soon, the Sobren was snoring, though the frog continued to struggle to get free.

The Heoli did not move. Leaning back in his chair, his arms folded, his eyes pierced me like a blast of winter. Other patrons muttered annoyingly from stools and chairs all around. It was time to leave.

Sitting on a stool at the counter was a woman in thick baggy clothes. She wore a dark hood, from which tufts of white-blonde hair spilled out. Leaning forward, she sipped her drink – straight space whiskey. I admired her tenacity. Her blue-skinned fingers gave me pause – I thought back to the poster for a moment, then shook my head. She felt me staring and turned her face. I could see two pale blue stars beneath her hood, wrapped in darkness. Besides her eyes, I could see nothing else of her face. Shivering, I stepped away from the space pirate and found the bartender.

“One more for the road,” I sighed, setting my glass on the bar counter. The bartender took it and instantly filled up my glass. I gave him an extra tip for the broken chair and was on my way, back out into the cold, dark universe.

The sky was a churning inferno. Falling stars burst forth from the cloudscape every few seconds, burning out long before they reached the ground. The city was melting, countless pillars of smoke rising above the red glow of rampant fires. Ancient buildings collapsed; Arcosians fled, screaming. In the air, ships sprinted and let loose their cannons. The Arcosian army was up there with them, but they could not stay this sudden tide. Not quickly enough, it seemed. Ships and warriors soared like birds amongst the clouds, trading lives. Thousands died before my eyes – nay, millions. Arcose was in the midst of a deep thaw.

The great senate hall, the governing seat of my people, was half-collapsed. Buildings old as the dawn of our empire were rubble now. I watched a dozen different places, markers I had known all my life, fall forevermore. Where my children were, I could not guess. I stood on an overlook, my ship docked behind me. The wind was cool, but not so cold. A glittering, color-changing aurora snaked across the midnight blue sky. A thousand lives were swallowed in the next gust of wind.

I shuddered, hoping for my family. And yet…

“They’re comin’ in hot!” a woman said over my scouter. She was using the same frequency as me – a friendly, no doubt.

“Identify yourselves!” a man shouted in dismay. I recognized him as a lesser senator – a second or third term man whose name escaped me in that moment.

“We are the Planet Trade Organization!” a voice said in fervent vigor. “Stand aside and let us sweep clear the rebels!”

“Who’s there? Who is this?!”

The comm crackled and bled, and fire rained down from the heavens. I shivered. It was not an especially cold day on Arcose.

Arcterial’s voice hammered my skull with every building that fell. Arcosians took to the air, pushing the raiders back. From above, larger, imperial ships came down upon the assaulters, decimating them with energy and ki and overwhelming numbers. Together, these new ships and the Arcosian force was able to trap the raiders between them, and it was butchery to watch what happened to those who dared attack this planet

“NITRO! NITRO! NITRO!” they were screaming.

Pale as snow, they decimated all who stood in their way. Fiery tears leaked down the skyscape. The rout was complete. Suddenly, and utterly, the assaulting force was broken, with the first signs of dawn. Fire was exchanged in the air; the power levels I read grew and wilted like an ocean in bloom. It was not long before this assault was over.

It did not surprise me that this new force did not attack us. The remains of the Arcosian army hovered protectively above the city, smaller than before, dwarfed completely by the spacecrafts blocking out the moon.

“My family… tend to them! Go, now!” I shouted into my scouter, changing to my personal frequency. The servant who had been unloading my ship obeyed as loyally as she could. I cut the comm.

Everything had happened too quickly. I was numb with shock; I could hardly process what I had just seen and heard and felt. Before me, another building fell in on itself as fire spit into the sky. The wind picked up, and my cloak trembled against me. A twisted, blackened ship screamed into the snow below my overlook, shattering metal and rock. Smoke rose from the crater where nothing moved.

This was not what I wanted for our planet. Had Arcterial sent a force ahead of his fleet to attack before I could return with my message? Tears in my eyes, I took to the sky, flying to the only place I knew my voice could be heard. And yet, my thoughts turned to my family again. Were they okay? Had they escaped this onslaught? I had wanted to be with them, but my duties as senator made me neglect them. I hadn’t had time to keep them in my thoughts on the trip to Arcterial’s palace, and now…

They could be dead, I knew. I would not run from my grief like King Cold’s little brother. Roaring audibly, I turned in midair. The wind felt good on my face. My aura appeared in an instant, and I was flying the other way, towards the countryside, where smoking craters and burnt fields awaited me. My own home was blocked out by smoke rising from a field before it. I shot through the smoke, my ki exploding like fire around me.

Landing softly in the snow, I approached my home. It looked untouched. A few of the outer fields were damaged, but nothing seemed to be too out of the ordinary. A black-eyed bird sitting in my iciclean tree ruffled its feathers, sending a few puffs of snow onto my shoulders. The tree was bare, save for one baby pink flower that was sprouting on the lowest branch.

“How are they?” I clicked the scouter finally. Trepidation held my throat; I almost didn’t want to know.

“Your family is safe, Senator Sanu,” the breathless attendant replied a moment later. “Your wife brought your children to the countryside when the battle started! They are all okay.”

“Very well. I’ll be in in a moment.”

“M-my lord? Don’t you have to meet with the other senators?”

“They can wait a few minutes. I want to see my family.”

So I did. It was my own house. I stepped forward, unlocking the door softly. I hadn’t seem them in a few weeks. Work and travel had kept me away from what was most precious to me, but I would never allow that to happen again. Especially if Arcterial soon received the news that I knew he would. But there was nothing I could do about that.

Wiping the frozen tears from my cheeks, I entered my house.

The Chillrose Hall had stood proud for a thousand years. Exquisitely-crafted blue marble halls, as wide and empty as a winter tundra, dominated the building, as did white marble fountains with Caecondi ponds beneath. Colorless engravings lined the walls of legendary heroes and stories of my people. All of this had been done by stone masons of a bygone era, utilizing an amount of skill and passion impossible to mimic today.

Ash fell from the sky, and the smell of smoke was almost too much to bear. The roof was half-collapsed, the ancient craftsmanship lying in dusty heaps all over the floor. Half of the senate seats had been crushed under the fall. At least marble does not burn.

We who remained stood in a loose circle, weary and uncertain. Fifty-two senators had made it. At least sixteen of our peers were dead, with the rest either off-planet or missing. We would do. We had to act now. There was no waiting anymore. I watched another blue marble pillar crumble into a pile of dust ahead and shuddered. It brought tears to my eyes to see such beauty disappear.

“Lord Nitro has offered protection for all his people, my noble senators,” the armored alien said. “He asks only for Arcose to pledge loyalty to his Planet Trade Organization.”

“What’s your name, soldier?” an older senator asked.

“I’m Commander Tanarilo, senior officer in Admiral Po’s fleet. I have saved your planet from a serious foe,” he said, clicking his fingers.

“Bah, space pirates, more like it! They came out of nowhere! But our defenses would have stopped them without your help. Why do we need to serve Nitro because of that?”

Two more soldiers entered the hall, carrying a body. They dropped the corpse in the center of the circle and flanked their commander. “A Faerin,” Tanarilo noted coolly. “Bael sent a scouting force here to test the Arcosian defenses. He’ll soon engage in a total assault. You do not have the numbers to push back the entire Faereth Fleet, my lords. It would be wise of you to accept our help. Lord Nitro can be here in a few days. For now, Admiral Po’s fleet will provide security for Arcose, lest Bael attack before our king arrives.”

There was a stark silence. A few politicians exchanged dumbfounded looks; others stared at the corpse in shock or brooding thought. Two women to my right exchanged whispered words. Tanarilo folded his arms and stood as confidently as if he had just killed a king.

“By what right does Nitro claim to be our king?! Kuriza is still alive!”

Tanarilo shrugged. “He chose to be the new king of our empire, good sir. A kingship is a position for a strong man. Nitro is strong. He is the last son of the previous king; he has a large, well-regulated empire, and his fleets dwarf anyone else’s. He has begun taking back planets that the pretender Arcterial and the child Kuriza have sought to steal from him. Already, his empire contains a majority of planets in the Planet Trade Organization. You would be wise to join Lord Nitro, my good senators, for he is the future of our empire – the only future that will last.”

“He has no right to rule!” another senator spat in disgust. “I don’t care if he stole planets from Kuriza, that boy is the rightful king of our empire!”

“Kuriza will be dead in a fortnight,” Tanarilo sneered. “Choose now, or choose then. Lord Nitro is our king. He will crush any who oppose him, and it will not take long.”

The murmuring grew into more agitated talk. The senators were besides themselves. Not one of them supported Nitro, I knew. Our only decision was between Arcterial or Kuriza. Nitro was unpopular in the universe – it’s just a simple fact. He commanded little respect when compared to his brothers or father. He lacked charisma and was not seen by many as very intelligent. Yes, he had a better claim than Arcterial, but that didn’t mean he had more support. We had three options here, and following Nitro was not one of those options.

“Shall we take it to a vote then?” old Senator Tu’andar whispered. At once, everyone hushed and listened in on the wizened, yet wise man who had served in this hall longer than anyone else. “All in favor of joining Nitro’s empire, raise your hands.”

A few did, in fairness. Perhaps not everyone was against him, or perhaps they were just scared. But they were in the extreme minority.

“All in favor of joining Arcterial’s empire?” Seven or eight hands were raised. The mood remained muted. Ash drifted from the stone wound overhead. I dared not step forward.

“All in favor of joining Kuriza’s?” More hands were raised – more than a dozen. But they were not enough.

“And…” the elder statesman looked around, his face pale, his mouth gaping slightly, “all in favor of leaving the Planet Trade Organization altogether?”

Their hands shot up, all around me, in roars of triumph and fearlessness. I felt my own rise with them, unwillingly at first.

Tu’andar slouched forward in a heavy sigh. “Very well.” He faced Commander Tanarilo. “We reject Nitro’s claim to rule over us. We reject everyone in that cursed family. Just because we’re Arcosians doesn’t mean we owe your lord our loyalty. Now get off our planet.”

The orange-skinned, semi-furry man bit his finger and smiled widely. “I’ll be back,” he spoke softly, “with your king. You’ve made a big mistake, boys.”

“Maybe we have,” the old man said gravely. “But we’re done dying for you. The people have spoken.”

Their cheers made it hard to think. The three Planet Trade Organization representatives left angrily. I knew they wanted to kill us – they’d fail, of course – but also knew that Nitro could not match our bluff. He would never destroy his homeworld, nor would Arcterial, nor would Icer, nor would Kuriza. We had only Bael to worry about, and like as not, he wouldn’t even make it here. Not with everyone else hunting him. Not after news of what happened here got out. But what if they didn’t find him in time? He was on his way, wasn’t he?

Fear grabbed me. I thought of my family. I tried to raise a motion, but the senators were busy celebrating our newfound independence. We were mad, I thought then. We were stupid, idealistic creatures. We needed Kuriza, or Arcterial, or Nitro. It felt cold again to me, this world. I had never felt more lonely than in that moment. We would die – this decision had killed us.

The one thing I never expected, as we watched Tanarilo and his lackeys return to the fleet that would no longer protect us, was that it was the royal family who needed us more than we needed them. Perhaps that’s the only reason we did end up outliving all of them.

Planet Trade Organization Leaders: End
This section will detail who is in charge of the Planet Trade Organization as of the end of this volume: