Star Trek: Makto EPISODE I: DEMONS OF AIR AND DARKNESS

[div1701]

I'm a newbie here. This side was recommended to me for getting replies to the following story. Star Trek Makto is a Star Wars type Star Trek story set in the Tkon ('The Last Outpost' [TNG]) Age of Makto. Like Star Wars, it is divided up into six parts, Demons of Air and Darkness being the first.

-- Episode I --
DEMONS OF AIR AND DARKNESS


CHAPTER I

CAPTURE AT THE BATTLE OF JULAGON


All the galaxy knew was war. There were always wars, and the Aldrad Imperium was always in them. That vigorous empire had defeated many enemies in their time, but as far as anyone knew they had not been defeated themselves. Not in a single battle, whether is be a space battle or a land struggle. They just refused to lose. As individuals, they were naturally cunning and dominant, and their ships were powerful. There was no stopping them.
Information on the early victims of their quest for domination became shrouded in the past. After so many years, no one cared about extinct species. Of course there were survivors from those species, nomads who travelled the galaxy before settling on foreign planets.
Surprisingly, the Aldradians had allies as well. Those who were not willing to fight them and surrendered before the war could begin. Those races were known collectively to others as alds, a word that seemed to be used more and more as the Aldrad gained allies. How cowardly of those races.

The Tkon Age of Makto saw the war between the Tkon Empire and the Aldrad Imperium. The Tkon Empire, tamer than the Aldrad but fierce when necessary, was perhaps a mysterious Empire. Their homeworld was known as Tkon, and it was in the Delphi star system far from Quodonious, home of the Aldrad. Each planet had a Portal guardian that defended it from intruders. Although that was not what intrigued others. It was the fact that the Tkon had the technology to move stars, often to more strategic positions. It had been heard of, but no one had ever witnessed the procedure or even heard of its use.

The war went on for nearly a century. Skirmishes followed by battles followed by bombardments and then back to skirmishes again. The war was declared by General Makto of the Tkon, which was unusual because the Aldradians were always the main aggressors. Perhaps he just didn't want the Tkon to be the new alds. Managing a war with against the mighty Imperium was a heavy burden on Makto. 'He can't cope,' people would always say. In more than one instance he was on the verge on a mental breakdown. At that time, Tkon officials were concerned with more than their own career, and were quick to help their General. Every time he panicked, by the next day he was back to normal. Of course, some time in the next day he would be panicking again.
His style quickly tired the Tkon people. They were not satisfied with him as a leader. General Makto was a great leader though. If only his people saw it. They barely grieved when he was assassinated by his people's enemies, the Aldrad. To them, it was more of a relief than a tragedy, but in reality that was the only tragedy.
So barely two years into the Age of Makto, the Tkon Empire needed a new leader. That leader turned out to be General Uxdan, who took over after the assassination of Makto. He led the Tkon against the Aldrad for nearly thirty years until his sudden and mysterious death. It was never really investigated, which led to a conspiracy theory among the common people of Tkon. They admired Uxdan, as one of his first duties after his taking over was to gain the trust of the people. He was the one who invented the technology to move stars, a technology that was rarely used. It was after his death that the Tkon started to question the stability of their command. Suspiciously, that general wondering was also eliminated quickly. No one knew why, or by whom. The year of those occurrences soon became known as the 'year of lost truths.'
Uxdan was replaced by his son, the new General Tulak. Apparently a great leader, it was only in his tenth year as leader that his advisor, Subgeneral Eron, discovered that he had been defying his own people to keep himself in charge. Eron, seeking an opportunity to take charge of the Empire, exposed Tulak as a traitor, but they were both killed, Tulak for his actions and Eron for his. Once again, no Tkon leader had lived long enough to retire. Leadership fell on General Tulak's son, Yuldok.
Yuldok was a question to the Tkon people. He was a good leader, but he never brought any breakthroughs for them. All he did was prolong the war without bringing about any serious victories - or defeats, mind. Although in battles he was not in the command chamber, as he piloted his own Battleship, a fighter at heart. Yuldok had a young son, Valos, who would one day take charge of the Tkon Empire as the result of a decision made by Yuldok. The line of Tkon leaders was a strange thing, dating as far back as General Bastu in the Age of Bastu, who made the outpost portal guardians in his image. It had been that way for centuries, one leader moving onto the next following the death of the predecessor. Change was not on the minds of the Tkon people, as they hated it, but they had to face it constantly.

The war between the Aldrad and the Tkon itself was terrifying, even for the Aldrad Imperium, as they thought the Tkon might beat them. A few times it almost ended peacefully, especially during General Uxdan's reign. Peace was on his mind more than revenge, an uncommon occurrence for a Tkon leader. General Yuldok was a skilled and experienced leader who always seemed to be one step ahead of the Aldrad, a fact which infuriated the Aldrad leaders. The prolonging of the war was irritating, but the Tkon people knew that Yuldok was proceeding according to some master plan. They thought that, anyway.
But then one thing changed all that. General Yuldok discovered that the Aldrad Imperium was sending seven fleets to Tkon. Yuldok responded by sending his own fleets, and leading the battle himself. The Aldrad were hoping for a response, as they thought they would finally defeat the Tkon Empire. An optimistic view, perhaps, but it had worked before on other enemies. Both empires sent massive fleets, as promised, which met at Julagon, a star system between Tkon and Quodonious (the Aldrad homeworld). The Battle of Julagon lasted for six hours. Until the last hour, it was not clear who would emerge victorious. General Yuldok took it upon himself to go after the Primeship, the massive flagship of the Aldrad. His optimism was not well-founded, as he was captured. The first ever Tkon leader to be captured by an enemy. He wanted to die when he realise that his capture was imminent. He was in his ship long enough to see the last Tkon Warship destroyed. The battle was over, the war was over. And soon the Tkon Empire would be over.

With the remains of the Tkon fleet floating in space, the Aldrad fleet returned home. Yuldok was being held on the Aldrad Primeship. It was the flagship of their empire, and was commanded by One Serax, a ruthless and well-known One among the Aldrad and their enemies. One was his rank in the military (all Aldrad men had military careers). It was a powerful rank, for as well as experience and professionalism, to become a One it was required to be physically and mentally strong. Yuldok had never met Serax, and all he knew of him came from rumour. Rumours that told of his supervising of massacres, his legendary personal interrogations of prisoners, and his successes in battle and personal combat.
Yuldok's mind, while in the cell, was on other things. He had not been fed for three days, and every time he forgot about his starvation it came back to him. If he was not fed soon he would die of starvation, which did not matter because he suspected the Aldrad were going to execute him anyway. His capture was his own fault. He had piloted his own battleship and went after the Primeship. He wanted a great heroic death, but he should have known better after being in so many battles.
The rumbling in Yuldok's stomach distracted him from his current activity. He was performing a Tkon ritual of preparation in that cell. Preparation for his death. There was nothing to stop him praying to his gods. He doubted the Aldrad soldiers would care even if they did know what he was doing. He focused on the words of the ritual, but he hadn't prayed since childhood, and it was difficult to remember the words. He was not very religious, but this seemed a time to be religious.
Suddenly the words came to him. How, he did not know. He chanted quietly, without alerting the attention of the soldiers in the corridor outside.

Bastu, lead us to glory,
Crotab, bring us victory,
Molaz, prevent death,
Rivoa, spread your joy,
Eybrin, cross the path,
God, lead us to the gates of Greatness.

Cimi, do not lead us to despair,
Frosu, do not turn your back on us,
Plotan, lead us to our happiness,
Vulag, love us,
Joko, hate us, as we hate you,
God, forgive us for our failings and misdeeds

A sudden jolt made Yuldok jump on the spot. He sat back from the ritual position and turned to see the door opening. It slid to the side revealing an Aldrad One. It was none other than One Serax, commander of the Primeship. An all-business man who only went somewhere if it was absolutely necessary, to himself or others. The black military uniform of the Aldrad was distinguishing. Even the Drozaks were all allowed to wear relaxing uniforms. During an infiltration mission before he became General, Yuldok had realised how uncomfortable the Aldrad uniforms were. If there was a reason for the Aldrad wearing them, no one seemed to know it.
As Yuldok remained sitting, Serax walked around for a moment before speaking. Perhaps he wanted to remind Yuldok that he was to die. There was no need for that in fact, as Yuldok knew that was his fate. The only question was: would they interrogate him first? No matter, all Tkon officers were trained to resist torture and telepathy. That was why no one had ever infiltrated their homeworld. Only ship battles brought the Aldrad victories against them. It was something the Tkon were proud of, not that they were proud of losing those ship battles.
Yuldok looked up at Serax. Serax returned the glance. He was menacing. Just his appearance was enough for anyone to fear him. He gave an evil smile. Without words, he had reminded Yuldok that the Aldrad had won. It seemed that the rumours about him were true, partly at least. He was a terrifying man.
Serax himself took great pleasure in this meeting. Although Aldradians remained emotionally detached, anyone would take pleasure from winning a war. With the distress over, now they could examine the results, and, best of all, take revenge freely on those who had caused them the grief.
'General Yuldok. Finally we meet,' said Serax with a tone of humiliation.
And he had a right to as well. That was how Yuldok felt. His reign was short, and he had brought about the Tkon's biggest defeat as well. The thoughts that flooded Serax and Yuldok opposed, as they had been bitter rivals for years despite never having met. In person, anyway, they had met many times in battle.
The General stood up, but the restraint pulled against him and prevented him from moving very far. They must have feared that he would attack Serax in some kind of last chance attempt at escape.
Yuldok wanted to get to the point. 'A pleasure,' he said, 'so what do you want?'
Serax stopped in his tracks and looked away. He folded his arms. Yuldok sat back down. The silence was rather awkward. Any meeting between war rivals would be.
'I'll give you some time to think about that so when I ask you won't be surprised,' said One Serax. 'Now get up.'
Good. They were going to interrogate him then kill him. Serax's choice of words told Yuldok that. The extra time would give his secret defender squadron time to locate and rescue him, if they stood a chance against the Primeship. Every General in the Tkon Empire had their own defender squadron of six small warships. It was their duty to prevent the capture of their General. They had failed in their primary duty, but the possibility of his rescue still existed. With Yuldok's capture, they had to be nearby. He could only hope that the new leader was keeping things together on the homeworld, if one had been appointed. Judging by their speed to appoint a new leader after the death of General Makto, the possibility of a new leader already having taken charge was very real.
Now more confident, Yuldok looked at Serax again, preparing to make a threat.
'My people may have lost one battle and their leader, but they'll not surrender to the Aldrad,' he said threateningly.
Serax looked around again. He was not taken in by Yuldok's threat, as Yuldok was going to die no matter what. That was what Serax thought, anyway.
'That almost sounds like a promise,' said Serax.
Yuldok realised that Serax thought he was about to inadvertently reveal classified Tkon information as a response to that statement. But no, he was not that dumb. He was no General Tulak, his own father. That fool almost brought the Tkon to their knees in front of the Aldrad. Of course now Yuldok had completed the work.
'It's a guarantee Serax,' said Yuldok in response, 'and if you think I'm going to reveal classified Tkon information, you're even dumber than I thought.'
Yuldok had decided to get right to the point. He did not like the way Serax was so confident of victory, however true it may be. And his confidence that they could shatter Tkon society after Yuldok's interrogation. Obviously they did not know as much about them as they thought they did.
'We can force the information from you, and we both know that would be rather... unpleasant for you,' said Serax.
Yuldok quickly realised that Serax knew more than he was letting on. It was clear that Serax knew something that could not be known, and he only wanted Yuldok to confess to its truth. But that was only a theory. Serax, on the other hand, did not know, and was trying to force Yuldok to make a slip up and give away some useful information.
'So why don't you skip the villain routine and tell me what you want?' asked Yuldok, letting Serax know what he was thinking.
'If you insist,' said Serax. 'We know about your protector fleet. We know they're following us in stealth mode. If you contact them, telling them you're okay, the interrogation will not proceed.'
Yuldok was not going to go ahead with that plan, and he knew that Serax knew that as well. If his death was a certainty, then he did not care about saving the Primeship some temporary damage. Those defender ships were his last line of rescue from the Tkon.
'They'll know it's a trick, they won't listen,' said Yuldok, getting tired of Serax's questions, 'it would be a waste of time. We may never have met, but I know you better than that Serax. I know that you know that they wouldn't believe even me.'
'But they're your defender fleet,' said Serax, 'they're sworn to obey you, no matter what they may personally think. Even if I do know that they won't be fooled, I also know that they'll have to obey you. Like you know me, I know the Tkon. I make it my business to know my enemy.'
Serax was right there. If Yuldok told them to leave they would leave… but alert the Tkon command of the situation. However, by the time they would manage to send a large fleet, Yuldok would be long executed. But even that was wishful thinking. Yuldok's opinion that his only chance lay in those ships was true. If they returned to Tkon for re-enforcements, the request would not likely be granted. For one person, a rescue attempt by a lost empire (yes, the Tkon were doomed unless they did something quick) would be pointless. If he ever returned to Tkon, his first duty would be to pick up the pieces, if there were any to pick up.
'That doesn't matter,' said Yuldok, not denying the truth of Serax's words, 'I will not help you even if I have to die.'
Serax stood tall. He seemed to change in height, like all Aldrad did during emotional times. It gave away his agitation. Clearly this was not going as he had planned. Serax could see Yuldok's defeat in his eyes, but also that he didn't want him to see it. If that was how it was to be, then so it would be.
'So be it.' said Serax, beginning to walk away towards the door. 'But one day I'll watch you die Yuldok.'
With that One Serax headed for the door. That comment did not seem finished. One day? Yuldok was expecting that day to be today. After all, the last known heading of the Primeship was Quodonious.
Serax pressed the panel to open the door. It accepted his clearance level and he prepared to exit. As he did, he stopped and muttered under his breath. It was something he wanted Yuldok to know.
'You're right about one thing, Yuldok,” said Serax, “I should just get to the point. I thought you'd like to know, your execution will be tomorrow.'
Yuldok sighed. He looked down at the floor by some instinct. After all, what does one do when they're told when they're going to be executed? So Serax had talked to him for minutes just trying to get any useful information out of him. At least he had failed. As if that would be a comfort, though.
'That's great Serax,' said Yuldok, 'but you know the Tkon will never surrender.'
And the Tkon would certainly not surrender. They had not surrendered to anyone since their defeat at the Battle of Vusaap against the Drozaks five hundred years ago. Even then they withdrew it once they found out that someone else was about to defeat the Drozaks. The Tkon were a 'fight to the last man' kind of people. Honorable, if that led to anything.
'The Tkon are already defeated. They just don't know it,' said Serax.
With that the door closed behind Serax, giving Yuldok the silence he needed to think over what to do next. Well, he was in a cell, so there was not much of a choice over that matter. His concern was not only over himself, and the welfare of his wife Cardal and son Valos. How would they manage without him? Valos was entering his teenage years. A father was vital at this time in his life. And as for Cardal, he didn't know how he could manage without her, or her without him.
Rather than continue to distress himself, Yuldok decided to pick up from where he left off in the ritual of sorrow. He raised his hands and prayed to the gods. He did not pray for his own life, as no god could save him. Only he could save himself if he had the chance. Instead he prayed for the lives of the other Tkon. Those on the planet would still be trying to figure out the end of the Battle of Julagon that had just taken place

Xora, defeat our enemies,
Grod, Serve the Gods,
Qotrol, kill the beasts,
Buxdan, slay the Drozaks,
Inin, slaughter the unwanted,
Burl, live as you did,
God, prepare us to cross the line of change

Fendor, preserve the peace,
Hulux, end the suffering,
Zuzmuk, return to life again,
Noopuv, restore the Boals,
Ploab, go through the gates,
God, walk with us

That was as far as the ritual chant went. The Age of Makto was not over, so a verse for that would not be added yet. Yuldok wondered what the words for that would be. A prayer for each leader was traditionally added, as a new age of Tkon history dawned as every fifth leader took control. Yuldok would be the fourth of the Age of Makto. What would he lose by predicting how the rest of the chant would go?

Makto, break up, not down,
Uxdan, prosper as before,
Tulak, die as a traitor,
Yuldok,....

Yuldok just couldn't come up with a line for his own leadership. He was not a bad leader, or a good one.
Suddenly the trembling of the floor increased. The ship was changing direction. Yuldok's hands dropped from their ritual position and his concentration was lost. It should never have been done on a ship, anyway. Only on the homeworld of Tkon.
Should he have taken One Serax's threat seriously? He would not under normal circumstances. But this was different. And Serax had nothing to be confident about either. The Aldrad were corrupt. Serax probably had a dozen officers plotting against him himself.
After all, they lived in difficult times.

The corridors of the Primeship were long and dark as usual. Militaristic. Aldrad stile. One Serax proceeded to the meeting room at his usual quick pace. General Yuldok was being a fool by resisting the might of the Aldrad Imperium. The Tkon were beaten. Yet another war had ended with the Aldrad on the winning side. That was of great pleasure to Serax, as he was commander of the flagship.
He was alone in the corridor, but he could hear footsteps. Aldradians had great senses. He would have heard a fluss scurrying twenty lokbas away if there was one Of course, it wasn't a fluss. It had to be an officer.
'His death will be entertaining, sir.'
One Serax turned round to see Two Ional approaching. Had he been eavesdropping? He would not dare. Ional was second in command of the Primeship. He often shared conversations with Serax, but was only indirectly involved with the mission of the ship. Oh, how he despised that. Serax could see Ional leading the Aldrad Imperium one day. Although that day would be the end of the Imperium as they knew it. Ional's constant attempts to involve himself in Ones-and-above business was particularly annoying to Serax. Although Serax himself remembered the curiosity he suffered from when he was Two. The jump in rank was overwhelming, as suddenly he became involved in the decisions of the Imperium itself. However, with that jump in rank came his own Two, Ional. And it had been the same ever since. Someday Ional's attitude towards the chain of command would be his undoing.
As Serax began to walk again, proceeding towards the meeting room, Ional caught up and began to walk alongside him. Serax's thoughts had made him completely forget what he had even said. Oh yes, the entertaining death. He was correct. Yuldok was going to be executed at the Quodonious Execution Stadium. Thousands of Aldradians as well as Wuts, Nells, and Skrets, or the alds as others called them, would be in attendance, with millions more watching the live holotransmission of the event. As well as being at the stadium for the execution, Serax was going to acquire the transmission and install it into a portable hologizer, and display it in his office.
At the moment, Quodonious was a popular planet because of such venues the Aldradians brought to their people and friends of their people. Despite the anticipation he was already feeling, Serax was planning an added bonus for himself as well. A personal gain from the death in the form of satisfaction.
'I intend to hologize it and release it to the Tkon,' he said to Ional.
Ional smiled. That would certainly infuriate them, but also remind them that they were doomed. One Serax had been discussing the future of the Tkon people, as the Aldrad were sure that they would surrender, with the Emperor and the High Lord. However, before that they had to discuss Yuldok's interrogation. It had to proceed quickly, but Serax had the feeling that it would be pointless. After his discussion with Yuldok, he realised that it would be ineffective. Aldrad interrogation techniques were more deadly in rumour than in fact. Surprise usually filled the prisoners, as they expected a more vigorous and painful interrogation, and it was rarely provided. The only reason the rumours concerning the interrogations of the Aldrad remained intact was because those prisoners did not live to tell the tale of their mild interrogations.
Right now, however, Serax had to inform the Threes of his decision.
'The execution showing has already sold out,' said Ional.
The Aldrad military sold expensive tickets to see the real execution of Yuldok, and not a worthless holorecording. As holorecordings were often faked, most people wanted to see the real thing. The news of his execution had only reached Quodonious three hours ago, but already there were no tickets left. That really pleased Serax, as it reassured him that Yuldok's execution was in the interest of the common people as well as the military of Quodonious. At least he didn't have to worry about going against the interests of his people, as he had been before.
'It seems the Aldrad share my hatred of this man,' said Serax reassuringly, 'but if he co-operates during the interrogation I can't kill him right away. There will be chaos.'
'What are you planning?' asked Ional.
And so Ional was asking questions again. What was worse, he didn't realise that Serax was not going to answer his query. Serax was tired of Ional's questions that the Two knew he wasn't supposed to know. Twos were below Ones. The Ones received their orders directly from the Emperor, and those orders were none of a Two's concern, and certainly not the concern Threes, the Aldradians who commanded regular ships. Usually Battleships and Space Stations. Serax had a feeling that Ional would tell them what he knew if he was told the plans. However, Serax was already going to meet with the Threes to tell them the brief plans. Very brief, that is. Threes were 'the little people' of the Aldrad. Serax respected them, but one day they would rise to a more respectable rank to go with it.
'That is none of your concern, Two.' said Serax, voicing his thoughts. 'But rest assured his punishment for refusing to help will be so painful he'll look forward to his execution.'
That would fend off Ional's questions. It was a slight exaggeration, but there was an element of truth in it. Ional paused. It seemed he was ready to change the subject of their discussion.
'There is much disorder among the Threes. Disagreement about what should be done with Yuldok,' said Ional, with a slight uneasiness.
At least he was not asking questions, but Serax didn't care about the order among the Threes. They had no say in Yuldok's fate. Besides, he doubted any of them would oppose the scheduled execution. That would be incomprehensible for an Aldradian, from an Aldradian.

One Serax and Two Ional approached the meeting room. The large doors identified the important room. The familiar insignia of the mighty Aldrad Imperium was spread across both doors. The three small stars around the large central one, signifying Quodonious and their allies. In all truth, the Aldradians themselves were all that mattered in the Imperium. To Serax, anyway.
Serax stopped at the doors to enter his authorisation code into the panel at the door. He raised his hand and placed his hand on the scanner. The controller scanned his hand and let out the familiar bleep of approval. The doors slowly opened as Serax backed away from the control and towards the entrance to the meeting room. The opening of the doors revealed the large, dark chamber with the long discussion table. As well as for meetings, this was where Serax ate his meals. Alone. He did not socialise with under rankers.
The Threes of the Primefleet, all twenty-six of them, were seated around the long conference table. Serax could hear a dozen conversations at once when he entered. None of them seemed to notice him at the doorway. It was only then that he realised that Ional was still by his side He turned to him.
'I will handle this, remain here,' he said to Ional.
Ional raised his eyebrow.
'Yes, One,' he said in obedience.
He placed his hands behind his back, and stood stationary at the doorway. Clearly he was not enthusiastic about his lack of participation in the conference.
One Serax walked away from the doorway and approached the table. After surveying the Threes, who had still hardly noticed him enter, he sat in his chair at the foot of the table. So they had not noticed him.
Serax stood up and put his hands on the table.
'Silence, my comrades,' he said loudly to get the attention of the Threes.
There was immediate silence from the Threes. The room was so large their conversations echoed for a second or so before complete silence filled the room.
Serax reseated himself. The Threes were all looking at him in anticipation of the discussion of the plan. But they weren't not going to be completely satisfied by what Serax was going to tell them, unless, like few Aldrad, they were eager to please. Serax began to speak.
'Threes of the Primefleet,' began One Serax, 'this is One Serax speaking for the High Lord of the Aldrad Imperium. Today's objectives are as follows. Locate and eliminate General Yuldok's Defender Squadron. Maintain scans for other ships. Arrive at Quodonious by evening. Of course Yuldok's execution will take place in the Execution Stadium in the capital tomorrow at noon. I expect you've all got your tickets?'
A slight murmur from the Threes followed.
'As for the interrogation of Yuldok, I'll take care of that personally,' continued Serax,. 'This concludes the orders.'
He awaited disagreement, as Ional had said that there was chaos among them. But for a few moments there was silence. The Threes looked at each other in confusion. They already knew everything Serax had told them. But, as far as Serax was concerned, they needed to know that and nothing else for the moment. To discuss anything more would be an error on his part.
Moments passed, but after ten seconds or so a Three suddenly stood up. Serax recognised him as Three Pulad, commander of the Battleship Annihilator. He had received numerous commendations from the people he had served under, so what he had to say had better be good. He would not dare to object, even if he was an objective person, as only the Twos and above could get away with objecting.
'Three Pulad. What is it?' asked Serax impatiently.
'What about the Tkon people?' asked Three Pulad, in a tone which told Serax that Pulad had been waiting to ask that question for longer than those ten seconds.
So it wasn't an objection, but he was wanting to know things that he was not meant to know. Although Serax was a rules-man, he decided to enlighten the Threes. The war was over, the Imperium was victorious, so what harm would it do?
'What about them?' he asked. 'They are defenseless, their fleets are gone. They have no leader. But to annihilate them would be pointless. Slavery, my good Three. That sounds good to me, anyway. I'm confident that no one has any moral objections?'
Silence ensued while Pulad reseated himself. That should have satisfied the Threes. No more questions, at least, for a while. His orders from the Emperor were to proceed directly to Quodonious and hand Yuldok over to be executed once his interrogation proceeded. However, he was now sure that Yuldok's interrogation would not go smoothly, if Serax's initial talk with him was anything to go by. As for the Defence Squadron, the Primeship had not detected any ships, but Serax knew they were out there. All they had to do was wait.
One Serax stood up. He prepared to leave. There was a lot of work to do over the course of the day. At least there was a lot to look forward to the next day, ending with the execution the Aldrad had been waiting for since General Yuldok killed the old High Lord.
He abruptly turned around and left the room. The Threes resumed their previous discussions.

One Serax walked up the corridor as he made his way for the command control room. There, the important decisions were made, whether they be tactical, strategic or operational. Since a visit from the High Lord or Emperor, or even another One, was a rare occasion, the decisions were almost always made by Serax. Normally, the pressure would make a One uncomfortable, but Serax was used to and comfortable with the pressure. In fact, if it went away, he would miss it.
He entered the main elevator and headed off towards the command control room. It was imperative that those ships be eliminated, soon and efficiently. An efficient operation, as Aldrad operations always were.


CHAPTER II

ACROSS THE JUNGLE


Crugave looked up. The trail of smoke had disappeared from the sky, so he could no longer track the path of his crashed pod. Not only that, but there was still no sign of Tarlax. The dense forest only slowed him down further. There was almost no sign of getting help. Idan? Who had even heard of that planet anyway? Crugave certainly hadn't until his ship had been destroyed in orbit by an unknown vessel. He and his comrade Tarlax had fled the ship in pods. The only logical thing to do was to land on the planet below them. Crugave's pod had destabilised before it landed, so he jumped out with a parachute and landed himself. Now, eight hours later, he was still searching for either the crashed pod or Tarlax.
The fresh air was peculiarly fresh. The two suns were shining down on the planet Idan, but the trees blocked out the light from them both. Only cracks of light had shone through. Not that Crugave had time to admire the sunlight, he was running through the massive and seemingly endless forest. He hadn't yet encountered a single clearing or seen a single bird. When in orbit, he hadn't thought to scan for life on the planet before ejecting the pod. It seemed like the higher priority was ensuring that he got out of there okay.
Panic filled Crugave's mind. The thought had crossed his mind that he could be stuck on this planet forever. If nothing could be salvaged from the wreckage (if he ever found it) then he would have to construct a message beacon from the resources of this planet. He could only hope that he would find Tarlax, alive and in a functioning pod.
Splash, splash. The dirt turned to mud. At least it rained on the planet, though it was not raining at the moment. Strange. In fact, the weather seemed to good to imagine. It was hot, but not too hot. It was not stuffy, as Crugave did not gasp for air. The air was still, but not for Crugave, as the air pushed against him as he ran. He felt somewhat less heavy than he was on his ship or his home world. If it weren't for the fact that he was stuck in the middle of nowhere, Crugave would call the place a paradise for him. Only his worries held him back.

Two more days passed. Two days in Crugave's 'time', anyway. The days were much longer on Idan. Each day lasted 71 hours, and the night took up only a small fraction of it because of the twin suns.
Regardless of the long days, Crugave was still searching for Tarlax. Fortunately his portable food generator was still functioning, but after another day it would need recharging, and he doubted he was going to find a recharger anywhere on Idan.
Suddenly Crugave heard a sound. It was very quiet and quick, so he may have been mistaken. In fact, the more Crugave thought about the sound, the more he thought he hadn't actually heard anything. Had he? Had he? He kept asking himself that question. Eventually he decided that he hadn't heard anything. He only thought he had heard something because he wanted a sign that he wasn't on an empty planet.
Another day without luck, it was getting dark again. Crugave stopped dead and sat down, his back resting against a tall tree. It was good to sit down, as he had hardly stopped to do it. He must have travelled a few dozen kilometres that day. Was it time to give up? There was no giving up in it. If he gave up he was dead. If he kept trying he could just wear himself out needlessly.
With the darkness fading, Crugave took his pulse pistol out of his jacket and fired at a group of branches to start a fire. He had learned that the nights on Idan were cold, much colder than those on his home world of Sodooj. His thick jacket would keep him warm at least, but the trees blocked out any heat that could possibly reach him. The previous night he had been unable to sleep because of the cold.
The silence was disturbing. Crugave had not spoken to anyone for days now, and he was normally a talkative person. He was afraid that if he didn't meet anyone soon he would have to start speaking to himself to keep himself sane, if that made any sense.
As he felt himself tiring, he rested his eyes as he lay against the foot of the tree. It took him three hours to fall asleep.

BOOM!!!
Crugave woke up with a start. It was broad daylight, and he had definitely heard something that time.
The fire was out. Crugave rose to his feet, and looked in the direction he thought the sound was coming from. Smoke! Joy! There was life on Idan! Could Tarlax be sending him a signal? Crugave could only speculate, but whatever the case, this was a very good sign. He fastened his jacket and ran towards the smoke trail.
BOOM!!!
Another explosion, if it was an explosion. Crugave was still running towards the smoke, but something inside him told him that something was wrong. That Tarlax should be so nearby was a little too convenient. However, there was no way Crugave could turn back. To investigate the source of the smoke was a necessity.
The smoke drew nearer. Or rather, Crugave drew nearer the smoke. He could now hear something else. Many things, in fact. It could well have been music. So it could not be Tarlax, unless he was passing the time by dancing across Idan with the local phantoms.
Crugave became aware that he was approaching a clearing in the jungle. Finally, it had only taken six days, but he had found life. Whether it was friendly or hostile he didn't care. He had a feeling he would be disappointed by what he would find.
BOOM!!!
This time Crugave could see the explosion. He hadn't caught what had caused it, but the explosion came directly above him. The sound was much louder.
He entered the clearing moments later. In all his days, he would never be able to describe what he saw. A dozen aliens, all female, all wearing the same small thin robes, were dancing around another alien in the middle. The other alien was male, and was fully dressed, and had his hands in the air. More aliens were standing around the dancers. But of all the dancers, standers, and the apparent leader, none of them noticed Crugave enter the clearing. He had not moved any closer, as he felt that it was not his place to be noticed by these primitives. He was right, he was disappointed.
The explosions were being set off by small rockets launched at the back. Crugave guessed that he was witnessing some kind of alien ritual. These were a primitive race, but they have seen Tarlax and be able to tell Crugave where to find him. He had to say something. He could only hope that the aliens were good with language, because he would not be able to learn theirs.
Crugave approached the large group. He was noticed this time, but all of the aliens. The dancers stopped, as did the music, of which Crugave still didn't know the origin of. The standing aliens turned to look at Crugave. They were all afraid. Terrified, in fact. All except the leader, who did not seem shocked, but in fact analysing Crugave. He broke off from the rest of the aliens, passed by the dancers and standers and approached Crugave.
Crugave's instinct to this was to grab his pulse pistol and prepare to defend himself, but something reassured him that there was nothing to fear. He did not know how that came across.
The alien slowly approached. Crugave felt that he was going to have to make contact.
'Stand back,' said Crugave, 'don't come any closer. I'm prepared to defend myself, if I have to.'
The alien stopped. Crugave didn't know if he had understood and obeyed or not understood and stopped as a reaction to the fact that Crugave had spoken.
The next part would be impossible to describe to anyone afterwards. For some reason, Crugave put his pistol back into his jacket and approached the alien. He did not know why, and that terrified him, though the actions were far from against his wishes. For that moment, he meant to put his pistol away and greet the alien. But he didn't mean to mean to do it. It was frightfully confusing. He supposed that the aliens did not need words to make their point. He could not even begin to imagine the telepathic powers they possessed.
'My name is Crugave,' said Crugave, introducing himself to the lead alien, 'I'm a Grunali. Who are you? Can you speak?'
The lead alien backed off again. He seemed to fear the use of words. Crugave did not believe that the aliens had language. After his shock dissipated, he approached Crugave again. For some reason, Crugave did not feel threatened. He wanted to know about these people.
The alien raised his arm and placed his hand on Crugave's forehead. Crugave did not know why, but it felt like something was moving inside his brain, and it was mildly ticklish. He guessed that the alien was probing his mind with telepathy. But Crugave could not probe the mind of the alien. What was he doing? Crugave's instinct was to remove the alien's hand, but something held him in place.
After a few seconds, the alien put his hand down and placed both hands on his shoulders and slid them off to face Crugave. That was the greeting from members of Crugave's world.
The alien looked directly at Crugave.
'Your name is Crugave,' said the alien.
'Yes, like I said,' said Crugave, glad to have finally made verbal contact with the aliens.
'My name is Plathus,' said the alien. 'We have been waiting for you.'
'What?' asked Crugave in disbelief. How could they have been waiting for him?
'You are the prophet of the stars,' said Plathus, 'we have been rejoicing your arrival since we seen the vessel of the gods spread across the lands. You and one other came down from the sky to meet your people.'
So Tarlax had made it to the surface. That was a relief, but it appeared that the aliens had not yet encountered him.
'Lets start from the beginning,' said Crugave, 'who are you people? Tell me all about you.'
'My people are the Ungal,' said Plathus, 'surely you must know that if you are who you say you are. You are responsible for all life. But if you don't know about us, I'll explain now.'
Plathus began to walk away. Crugave walked alongside him. As they passed the dancers and the standers, they also followed closely behind.
'We have been passed down from the gods. We have existed on these lands for many thousands of years since the great god Solman brought us down from the heavens to experience mortal life. At that time the great Ungal Vetrake promised that one day we would return. I and many of the others are descended from her. It took us three years to arrive here from the skies, and Vetrake constructed the first village single-handedly. The village expanded, with a new segment built every few years as our population has increased. For thousands of years that has been the way of things.'
“What about your telepathic abilities?' Asked Crugave, 'they're certainly curious.'
'It seems our gods have more important things to worry about. But, nonetheless, I'll explain,' explained Plathus. 'We can access the thoughts of others with physical touch, if we want to do it. It is fortunate that we can, otherwise we would never have understood you. What you call talking is frightening, yet... fascinating. It terrified me at first, but now I want to explore it more.
'With the telepathic link, we can also manipulate the thoughts of others. Some Ungal have even developed the ability to do that without physical contact. I have yet to master that ability. If you experienced an unexpected urge to communicate back there, then it must have been another of the Ungal around me. At first I expected you to run away.'
That explained why Crugave previously felt compelled to communicate with the Ungal. He wanted to learn more. The surprise of him being called a god by Plathus had to be good. Perhaps he could use them and their abilities to get off Idan, though they did not strike him as technologically sophisticated people, a problem that could eventually be overcome if he tried hard enough.
'Well you'd better tell your people not to probe my mind remotely,' said Crugave, paranoid that they would learn things about him that he didn't want them to learn.
'They will never do it again. May your thoughts be without company.'
As confused as Crugave became by that statement, he continued.
'I want to learn everything about the Ungal,” said Crugave, 'you are a fascinating people, and the gods want to evaluate your progress in this world.'
That was of course a lie. Crugave was merely trying to learn about them so it would be easier to manipulate them. This was not an altogether bad thing, however, as he was only trying to get away from Idan. He had an idea that the Ungal were his only hope. His first priority was still to find Tarlax, but that was his next one.
'I just need to know one thing, though,' began Crugave, 'have you seen any more of the gods besides me today? Perhaps someone that looks just like me? He could have asked if you had seen me?'
'There is one other,' replied Plathus, 'we seen you both fall from the sky. You are the first we have met and talked to like this.'
'Are you sure?' asked Crugave. 'What about the rest of the Ungal?'
'They have not seen anyone enter the primary village,' said Plathus, 'I am sure. They would tell me if they had seen anyone.'
'Well if you or any of the Ungal do see him,' requested Crugave, 'you must tell me. He will answer to the name of Tarlax. You must tell him that I am in the village.'
'You are staying with us?' asked Plathus.
'I must, for now,' replied Crugave, 'like I said, I want to learn about your people. I consider it a great privilege to be here.'
'Well we are heading towards the village right now,' said Plathus, 'we would be honoured of you would join us.'
'I would be honoured to,' said Crugave, 'and now, you were telling me about the Ungal? Please continue.'
Crugave and Plathus continued towards the village, with the other Ungal not far behind them. He had a feeling that learning about the Ungal would be beneficial to his overall plan, whatever that may be. In any case, with them aiding him, the probability of finding Tarlax would increase.
'The Ungal's worshipping of the gods goes as far back as our arrival on these lands. We offer our lives to them every day, as well as everything we possess. As far as we are concerned, our possessions are as much theirs as they are ours.'
Crugave was not sure what to make of that comment. But if he was worshipped as a god, he could use that fact to take what he wanted from the Ungal. That made him feel a but guilty already, as at heart he regretted what he was going to have to do - build up a trust between him and the Ungal until they got him off the planet, where he would have to betray them. They seemed like a pleasant race, and if circumstances were different he would be happy to stay with the Ungal to learn about them for reasons other than to escape. Although Idan was not a nice planet. Crugave did not like the jungle, as a bad encounter during childhood had taught him. He did not like the plant life or animal life. He had not encountered much of either on Idan, and certainly nothing dangerous, but a few days was not enough to give an honest judgement.
'Tell me, how well do the Ungal know this planet?' asked Crugave.
'We are very well travelled,' replied Plathus, 'we know the planet, as you call it, very well. There is no such thing as having been everywhere, however, but we have travelled in all directions from the village, and kept on going for months without turning back.'
'Is it all forest?' asked Crugave.
'All questions, so be it,' said Plathus, 'but to answer your question: no.'
'So what's there to see?' asked Crugave.
Plathus replied, 'the forest goes on, but there are breaks for rivers, lakes and oceans.'
'Oceans? I didn't see any of them from orbit,' said Crugave.
'Orbit? What is that?' asked Plathus.
Crugave realise that he had said something wrong. 'No,' he said, 'orbit is how we describe seeing the land from above in the heavens.'
'Very well,' said Plathus, continuing his description. 'We also see boundaries of the forest, where there are mountains.'
'What about deserts?' asked Crugave.
'No,' said Plathus, 'if there are, we have not seen them. Travelling is a common pastime to the Ungal, you know.'
'I can see the attraction,' said Crugave, 'but while we're on that subject, seeing as I am the prophet of the stars, and your people do enjoy a good journey, could you send some of your people into the forest to search for my companion?'
'Certainly,' answered Plathus, 'what's his name?'
'His name is Tarlax,' said Crugave, 'if your people find someone in there, they'd better make sure that it is him.’
'Very well, I'll see to it after the ritual service in the Temple of R'Dume has concluded.'
Crugave had a feeling that Plathus was not going to call off the ritual service to start the search.
'You know, one of the most important things to us is the land we walk on,' said Plathus, 'Idan, you call it. The treasure the gift of land that the gods have given us, if we rejected it we would be saying that we do not appreciate it.'
Crugave had to admit, he did not share the Ungal's love of the planet. From what he could tell, Idan was just a planet with long, long days, endless forests and the mighty-strange Ungal people. However, those mighty-strange people were his only hope to get off the planet.

The image of the primary Ungal village was staggering. Crugave, Plathus and the other Ungal had arrived there after twenty minutes of discussing the Ungal. There were dozens of homes with a unique design surrounded by beautiful scenery, including, well, tress and grass, but also a river flowing across the village and a waterfall at the back, all organised in a delightful manner. Crugave and Plathus entered the village and headed for the primary complex, a structure, the place Plathus said was closest to a command chamber. The Ungal had no real leader, as they all thought for themselves. Crugave had a feeling that he could provide that role.
It was then that Crugave realise that he was very hungry. As he walked towards the complex, he took his portable food generator out of his pocket and checked that it was still charged. It in fact was not. Getting something to eat here in the village was one of Crugave's priorities now, and he had a feeling that the Ungal didn't exactly have fine dine to offer him. He wouldn't he surprised if they had nothing more than the basics from the lands, and he didn't know if they had farmers.
'Just in here,' said Plathus as they entered the complex, 'this is where everything important happens. I don't have to be at the Temple for another few minutes.'
The complex was not very complex. Crugave was disappointed. It was a dark and dimly lit chamber (lit only by lanterns and candles) with messages carved in stone across the walls.
Plathus pointed Crugave in the direction of one of the stones.
'One of our proudest achievements,' he said, 'it was written by Zuzul, one of our oldest monks, over twenty years ago. He rewrote the prayers to the gods, hoping to draw their attention. These are the Stoned Scriptures. The actual scrolls can be found in the Temple, if you want to know anything about our faith or beliefs. Initially I thought you came here in response to Zuzul's requests.'
'It's part of why I've come,' lied Crugave, 'but obviously there's a lot more. Have your people ever heard of warp drive?'
'I don't know that word,' said Plathus, 'and I wouldn't say that any of the Ungal do.'
'What about antimatter?' asked Crugave.
Plathus shook his head.
If the Ungal didn't have warp technology, then Crugave would have to get them to develop it. His plan suddenly became so clear in his head. One step at a time, that is how races develop. But the time between steps varies for each race. Assuming he got no word from Tarlax, Crugave could still get away from Idan in less than a year. He made his decision. He was going to advance the Ungal a few hundred years in a matter of months.
'Plathus,' said Crugave, 'are any of your people scientists? Or engineers?'
'Our people have many skills,' said Plathus, 'they will surprise you.'
'Specifically what I asked, though,' said Crugave.
'We have people that study many things,' said Plathus, 'they study land, sky, people, the world around them.'
'Are any of them interested in technology?' asked Crugave.
'If you want someone interested in that, you're best to turn to Mulace, one of our younger residents. He's very interested in what he sees around him. He likes fixing things that break down, and he's made a few inventions of his own.'
'Excellent,' said Crugave, 'so where can I find him?'
'You'll probably find him somewhere in the village,' said Plathus, 'have a look around the place. Talk to people, like you've talked to me. Don't worry, they'll understand you. They won't be afraid of talking once the others have gone over the basics.'
With that Crugave departed from the complex. He was not interested in religious stones. Religion and faith were very important to the Ungal, it seemed. His plan could very well come into conflict with those ideals. However, he had the name Mulace. If he could find this individual, he could get his help.
Again, he was just about blinded by the sunlight when he walked outside. The Ungal were going about their business, whether that be talking with other Ungal, planting trees, chanting, dancing or praying. Crugave did not like it. He was too used to his own homeworld, where there were no people like that. Where did the Ungal work? Did they have a barter system? Was there violence among them? It seemed not, and Crugave did not believe it. In his opinion, there was no such place as a paradise.

The Ungal were fascinated by Crugave and his arrival. As he toured the village, he had to fend off the attentions of several of them. It was a real distraction, as the primitives were of no interest to him.
As Crugave walked, he realised that the sunshine was too much for him, and he removed his jacket and carried it. As he flung it over his shoulder, his pulse pistol fell out the pocket and fell to the ground. The Ungal who were behind him let out a shriek of alarm.
Crugave turned to the Ungal. 'I'm sorry about that,' he said to them, 'just go about your business. It's not a weapon.'
He bent down and picked up the pistol and put in a pocket in his pants. Carrying hid jacket, he resumed his touring of the village.
There was more to see than he initially assumed. Apart from the Ungal residences, which were made out of some material he didn't recognise, there were a few stone figures in the main square. They were arranged in curious positions, which Crugave thought had something to do with the Ungal's mysterious beliefs. If Plathus was anyone to go by, the Ungal were certainly peculiar.
He approached what seemed to be the main stone figure. It was smaller than the rest, and was a well-made statue of a female Ungal with her arms wide out. It could have been Vetrake, the legendary Ungal that Plathus mentioned earlier. In fact, it was very likely to be Vetrake because of the fact that this statue was the head of the square of the primary Ungal village, and in the clearing Plathus had said that she was very important in Ungal history.
There was something inscribed at the bottom of the statue, on the statue rest. It was apparently some kind of writing. In Ungal, of course, so Crugave could not read it.
Crugave was rather surprised that the Ungal had writing but not speech. Well, Plathus was fascinated by speech, so it seemed that he would introduce it to the Ungal. That meant one less thing Crugave had to take care of himself.
As a female Ungal passed by behind him, Crugave turned to her.
'Excuse me,' he said to her.
The woman seemed shocked. This was probably the first time someone had ever used words to communicate with her.
'Lord Crugave of the Gods,' she said, 'I feel honoured that you would choose to speak to me. Plathus has explained the art of speech and conversation to us. He learned it when he probed your mind.'
'Yeah,' said Crugave, a little uneasy himself, 'but I'm not talking to you to honour you. I need to ask you something.'
'Certainly,' said the woman, 'what is it?'
'This writing,' said Crugave, indicating the inscribed message at the foot of the statue, 'what does it say?'
'Does the Lord Crugave not know the word of the Ungal?' asked the woman.
'Of course I do,' began Crugave, desperately trying to think of an excuse, 'but it's just that your writing has changed a bit since our last meeting.'
'It means 'One Day They Will Come',' explained the woman, 'don't you know that? It was Vetrake's promise to us when she completed her work on this village. She was standing on that exact spot when she used her telepathic abilities to tell us it, you know. That's why the statue of her is there.'
'Oh,' said Crugave, 'very well. If you say so.'
The woman continued her trotting across the village. Crugave was curious as to her referring to him as 'Lord Crugave'. Plathus had clearly called him 'the prophet of the stars'. Crugave didn't know what that meant, but he did know that... he didn't know exactly what the Ungal thought of him. If his plan was to commence at all, that would be the first thing he would have to find out. He had a feeling that Mulace would not be help there, but at least he had the name to find him later. Plathus was the leader of the Ungal at the moment, it seemed, so he would be too involved in leadership to help, although Crugave had a feeling that anyone would be happy to help.
Resuming his trek across the village, Crugave interrupted a group of what seemed like teenage Ungal in the middle of a discussion. They were alarmed when Crugave approached them. He conducted the greeting of his people, as he had a feeling that they would be familiar with it by now. As a matter of fact they were.
'I can't believe it,' said one of the teens. 'He's going to talk to us.'
'Is it such an honour?' asked Crugave. 'I was wondering if any of you knew much about the beliefs of your people.'
'We all do of course,' said another teen, 'but if you want to know a lot you're best to ask Tolune here,'
Another teen, apparently Tolune, smiled awkwardly.
'Okay,' said Crugave. 'Tolune, who am I?'
Tolune looked at his friends, a little dazed from the question. He must have mistaken it for a trick question. After all, who asks someone who they are when they already know?
'You're Crugave! The prophet of the stars!' exclaimed Tolune, as if it was obvious.
'I know that,' said Crugave, 'but what does that mean really?'
Tolune paused again. He was having difficulty talking with Crugave, whom he thought was a God.
'We don't know that much,' said Tolune, 'you should read the scrolls in the temple. You'll find what you need to know in there.'
'I'm asking you,' said Crugave, not realising that he was beginning to sound threatening, and to teenagers as well.
'Oh well,' said Tolune, 'in the scrolls it tells that the prophet of the stars will be the first visitor from the gods to us in thousands of years. They will restore what we've lost, help us learn more, and then return to the gods.'
Crugave smiled. That seemed a bit of a coincidence. 'Thank you,' he said to Tolune, before he started walking away.
'Crugave!' shouted one of the teens as Crugave walked away. He looked back.
'Thanks for coming back to us,' said the teen.
Crugave nodded, but didn't smile.

The scrolls were old and dusty. Crugave was in the Temple of R'Dume, the sacred place of the Ungal. It was an old building, the oldest looking that Crugave had seen so far. It was surprisingly empty, but the Ungal in charge there had told him the procedures for reading the scrolls. Crugave was allowed to read from all of them, but many of them were restricted to certain Ungal. In fact, one set of scrolls had never been read. The monk had told Crugave that they could only be read by the lead monk, who had recently died, and a new one was still to be appointed by Plathus, who in fact was the leader of the Ungal.
The scrolls were written entirely in Ungal, but over the last twelve hours the Ungal had rushed to compile a translation pad for Crugave to enable him to read the text. They spoke of the passage of the Ungal from the sky to the ground, the religious icons among the Ungal people, and the development of the Ungal faith. The only part which Crugave needed to know about was his part in it. He had been searching for the section on the prophet of the stars, but he was in no hurry, as reading the scrolls gave him an insight into the Ungal mind.
After an hour of reading, Crugave finally came across the section he wanted to find. The prophet of the stars, it said, would visit the Ungal people for a time and then return to the sky after teaching the Ungal about how they should be. A brief description, perhaps, but that was a delight to read. His plan fitted in perfectly with it.
His plan, which he had in full focus now, would be to advance the Ungal culture to the state of developing the warp engine, which he would install on a ship and return home. That would, in fact, take a long time, perhaps longer than a year, perhaps two, but it would be worth it. And if he ever needed help after that, he would know who to turn to. He just hoped they wouldn't realise his deception and come after him!
Crugave put the scrolls aside and looked back. The monk was praying over at the other end of the temple. Standing up, he made his way for the door, as he wouldn't want to ruin the monk's prayers.

'I'm looking for Mulace,' Crugave said to a passerby.
'Mulace?' asked the passerby. 'You'll find him in his chambers. Just over there.'
She pointed to a small building just beyond the hedge. Crugave followed her indication.
'In there? Are you sure?' Crugave asked.
'Absolutely, I just came from there,' she said.
'Thanks,' said Crugave.
Crugave immediately headed for that building. He had a feeling that the woman wanted to say something else, but night would fall soon and he still had things to do before then. Mulace was his prime concern. Crugave wanted to evaluate his usefulness to his plan. If Plathus was right, he was the closest thing Idan had to a scientist.
As Crugave approached the door to the building, he raised his hand and knocked.
There were a few moments of silence as Crugave waited for Mulace, or someone else, to answer the door.
The door opened and a young male Ungal looked out.
'Crugave, I've been expecting you,' said the resident, 'my name is Mulace, if you didn't already know.'
'I did,' said Crugave, 'how did you know I was coming?'
'Plathus came round,' said Mulace, 'he advised me to prepare well for your visit.'
'Prepare for my visit? I only need to ask you a few questions,' said Crugave.
'Come in,' said Mulace.
Mulace went back into the building and Crugave followed, closing the door behind him. He expected to see science equipment, but didn't. A scientist? If Mulace was the closest thing the Ungal had to one, Crugave wanted to know how they arrived at that conclusion.
'Plathus said you wanted a scientist?' asked Mulace.
'Yes,' said Crugave, 'I need the services of a scientist. Plathus recommended you.'
'I can see why he would, but I'm not a scientist,' said Mulace, 'it's just that a few years ago I invented a batch of everyday things. Pretty standard now, and looking back at it it's not that remarkable.'
'It's a start,' said Crugave, 'I need you to help me build something called a warp engine.'
'I don't know what that is,' said Mulace, 'but maybe if you describe it for me, I'll give it a shot.'
Crugave thought for a moment. Mulace was underestimating what he was being asked to do. One step at a time, it seemed, was how they would have to take it.
'Okay, first things first,' said Crugave, 'show me what you have that you would call 'modern'.'
'Right this way,' said Mulace.
Mulace led Crugave to another section of his chambers. Inside was a table of instruments. There was a long rod with some kind of mechanism at the top, a round metal bar with something around it, and a hand-shaped object that could be a scanning device. There were also some other items that Crugave could not describe.
'I've been studying these, hoping to advance them,' said Mulace, 'but so far I've not had much luck.
'Good,' said Crugave, 'at least I know I've not been wasting my time by coming here. So what exactly are these?'
Mulace picks up the rod. 'This is a pressure reliever,' he said. 'When you hold it and pressed your thumb against it, it releases a neural shock throughout your body. It relieves pain, and all other negative feelings.'
'Curious,' said Crugave, 'but not really a standard device. I was meaning what do your people have that show how advanced your people are as a culture.'
'Oh,' said Mulace, 'of course. I'm sorry if I irritated you with my stupidity, but all we have you have already seen.'
'Well then lets get started,' said Crugave, 'we've got a culture to advance a few hundred years. Isn't that my job? As the prophet of the stars? To help your people find your roots and then leave the way I came?'
'Yes, I think so,' said Mulace, 'but I haven't paid much attention to the scrolls.'
'You should,' said Crugave, 'they are a joy to read.'
And with that Crugave set to work. Little did he know it would take him over a year to complete it.


Chapter III

TRAINING AT EXDON


Thunder could not have made more of an impact than the crash of Etrin Jonal's pod should it happen. She was going at such a speed that everything around her was a blur. Just the way she liked it, mind, as she was a fast flyer. She had a feeling that her supervisor, Kabal, would not think so highly of her high-spirit piloting, as he had never done before.
Etrin gazed down at the booster controls. The boosters were already at full strength. If they weren't, she would have given them another press. However, her thrill was put down when she checked the progress meter. The course was nearly over. Had she hit those two markers again? She hadn't noticed it, but if she had she would be getting a mouthful from Kabal.
The sun scorched down on her. It had been an incredibly hot day in the city, so it could be imagined how hot it was on the training grounds near the desert. Fortunately the speed made the wind blow against Etrin's face, saving her from the heat.
Suddenly the alarm beeped. She had to start slowing down, she was approaching the end of the track. She flipped the lower lever to decrease speed.
The drop in speed was so sudden that Etrin would have been thrown forward had she not been restrained by the forcefield belt. As she slowed, she started to gaze at the monitors to see how she had done. Yes, she had hit the two markers. Anticipating the reminder of piloting safeguards from Kabal, Etrin sighed. The craft quickly slowed to a halt, as Kabal came into view. He looked impressed for the first time since Etrin had met him.
As the craft came to a full stop, Etrin decreased it's hovering height, took off her helmet and jumped out the side of the craft. She approached Kabal, who was holding a stats display.
'So?' Etrin asked Kabal. 'What do you think?'
'It's not what I think, it's how the computer analyzes the flight,' said Kabal, critical as usual, and with a touch of irony.
'Care to venture a guess?' asked Etrin.
'It was... an improvement,' announced Kabal.
Coming from Kabal, that was a compliment. She had never heard him speak highly of anyone. Except for Yulad, of course. Oh Yulad, the first pilot Kabal had trained. Kabal would never stop going on about his excellent piloting skills. They were wasted, as Yulad's ship was destroyed the day he ventured out into space. By the Aldrad Imperium, Etrin recalled, but that was about ten years ago.
'You came close to Yulad's bottom score,' said Kabal.
'Close?' asked Etrin, unclear as to what he was referring. 'Close as in just below it or just above it?'
'Above,' said Kabal, as if he didn't want to admit that fact.
Etrin Jonal deactivated the hovering rockets of her pod, and deployed the landing struts. Kabal looked on disapprovingly.
'I've told you again and again Etrin,' he said, 'deploy the landing struts first, and then deactivate the hovering rockets.'
'Yeah you have told me,' said Etrin, 'but if it wasn't safe, I think that after doing this a dozen times we would know it.'
'Very well,' said Kabal, 'if you prefer taking shortcuts through life.'
Etrin walked away from her craft. She expected Kabal to take her to the Evaluation Room, the room where pilots read the computer's analysis of their flight. It was always agonising, as the computer did not play favourites with the pilots. The artificial intelligence was critical, strict and even cruel - just as Kabal had programmed it to be. Etrin could not even begin to imagine the number of people that had had their future decided in that room, as Exdon was not just a home for her people, the Triarians, but people from all over the sector, and sometimes farther, came for the planet's legendary pleasure and training facilities. The Exdon Flight School was legendary, and Etrin felt honored to have got a place in it.
'Are we going to the eva room?' asked Etrin.
'It's the Evaluation Room,' said Kabal, as he had many times before, 'and yes. If you'll just follow me.'
Kabal led Etrin to the Evaluation Room, but she knew the way already. It was not a long walk from the track. She had been through the eva room experience three times already, but the tests had got harder each time, and each time Etrin had barely passed. She was getting worried that sometime the computer would tell her, in that dry voice it had, that she had failed, meaning that she would either have to restart the program or drop out of Flight School. Kabal would certainly like that. Etrin had the impression that he enjoyed failing candidates. One day Etrin would give him a taste of his own medicine. She wasn't sure if he even knew how to fly a ship. The only thing he seemed to know anything about was criticising his recruits, talking highly of Yulad, and leading candidates to their doom in the eva room. Oh how Etrin Jonal loathed him.

The doors to the Evaluation Room opened, and Kabal walked in and sat at the desk. Etrin Jonal followed and sat in the candidates chair, or the 'death seat' as the students called it. She was uneasy, even after having gone through the evaluation program several times. If she didn't pass it, she was out. Just like that.
'Computer, analyze flight number 84T3M,' Kabal ordered the computer.
Then came the agonising wait. Etrin sat in silence, but Kabal went for drink of plagease. It was as if he was trying to show how much he didn't care. Etrin could hear the sound of the computer scanning the facts and organising a conclusion, and the vital grade.
Kabal sat back down in his chair, sipping his beverage.
'Oh, still too hot,' he said.
Etrin eyed him. She did not like his attitude, even if he was her instructor.
'Look Kabal, I'd rather sit in silence,' said Etrin.
'If you'd like,' said Kabal, 'but from my experience students become uneasy while they wait for the results.'
'Look, let's just wait,' replied Etrin.
So they waited in silence. It took a full minute for the computer to come up with a conclusion. Kabal's console beeped to signify the completion of the analyzation. He put his beverage on his desk.
'Computer, give us your analysis of flight number 84T3M,' ordered Kabal.
Now it was time for life or death, as far as Etrin Jonal was concerned.
'Flight Number 84T3M,' began the computer, in its usual shrill voice, 'Pilot: Candidate Number 53E1. Name: Etrin Jonal. Analysis of flight: 21% improvement of efficiency in comparison to previous flights by candidate. Markers 6 alpha and 6 beta hit. Average speed: 54 metres per second. Average distance from center of track: 0.9 metres. Above recommended speed limits for land travel. Response time adequate. All safety precautions met. Assessment: 85.1 points for flight. Grade C pass.'
Etrin Jonal leaned back in her chair. She was so relieved, and what was better, she was finished for the day. She smirked at Kabal, who had already resumed his beverage.
Etrin stood up. 'See you tomorrow, Kabal,' she said.
'Make sure you're on time,' said Kabal, 'you're moving up to a higher level of flight training tomorrow, and I want to go through some new procedures and safety precautions with you.'
'Sure,' said Etrin.

'What'll it be?' asked Galod.
Galod owned the bar. Etrin Jonal always went there to celebrate after passing a flight test. Galod was not a Triarian. In fact, she wasn't sure which race he belonged to. His head was unusually small, his skin colouring was rather green, his eyes were stretched vertically across his head, his nose was large, and he had arms above his shoulders as well as below. Helpful since he served the food and drink as well as the waiters and waitresses. He took an active role in the running of the bar. He talked rather strangely as well, Etrin had heard nothing like it in her life. Kind of how she imagined fish would take if they could.
'The usual,' said Etrin.
'Back in a minute,' said Galod before heading off.
As she waited, Etrin surveyed the bar. She knew a lot of people there, and a lot of them were friends of hers. Friends, perhaps, but she didn't trust a single one of them. Most of them were aliens, much of them were criminals, many of them had killed. Only a small number of them were actually natives of Exdon. One of them approached Etrin. She was a friend. Her name was Sodrid, and she was a Triarian.
'So how did it go?' she asked.
'Passed,' said Etrin, 'no thanks to Kabal.'
'Don't worry,' said Sodrid, 'when you pass the final exam you won't have to see him again.'
'Yeah, if I get that far,' said Etrin.
'You will,' said Sodrid, 'you're a great pilot.'
'I don't care about being a great pilot,' said Etrin, 'all I want to do is learn how to fly a ship so I get leave this rust bucket of a planet.'
'I'm with you on that one,' said Sodrid, 'but it's normal to think you'll fail. Even if deep down you know you'll pass.'
'You're just being supportive because you're my friend,' said Etrin.
Suddenly there was a loud crash from the other end of the bar. Both Etrin and Sodrid looked over to see what was going on. An small, round, red alien with two heads jumped off his chair and inspected the floor, on which lay a now-dead body.
'I told you not to anger me,' said the red alien. He said it in his own language, but since Etrin spoke Lunganite she could understand him. The alien took a loud sniff with his huge nose and left the bar.
Etrin looked over at Galod at the bar to see if he would react. She didn't suppose he would, but he did point to one of the waitresses. 'Clean up that mess,' he ordered the waitress.
Etrin and Sodrid no longer took notice. They resumed their conversation. Fights broke out all the time on Exdon, some were quicker than others. The Triarians had a high regard for freedom, so people could do what they wanted. If anyone was dumb enough to offend a Lunganite, then it was their own fault.
'Friendly,' said Sodrid.
'I've seen him in here before,' said Etrin, 'he's never in a good mood. His wife has left him, you see. He's been drinking a lot.'
'A drunken Lunganite, there's a danger you shouldn't be anywhere near,' said Sodrid, laughing at the same time.
At that time, Etrin just couldn't stop thinking about her approaching final examination. She had heard about people freaking out at it and ending up in a medical installation. Etrin doubted she would be that afraid, but she did have a feeling that Kabal would not offer any support, or let her on the track to practise. He always said that the track was not a playground. An understandable concern, perhaps, but as far as Etrin was concerned, the more practise, the better. The examination was in three weeks, and for Etrin Jonal time moved as quickly as her pod when she was at the helm, so it would come quicker than it originally felt like it would.
Etrin Jonal was finally served her drink. Galod smiled at her, but she didn't return it. She knew Golad liked her, but she was too repulsed by him to like him back. That didn't stop her from flirting with him a few times just to tease him. It was fun, but it was torture for Golad.
Sodrid looked at the time on the wall. It read '73:10:35'. It was almost time to leave. She looked at Etrin as she stood up.
'Wish I could stay and chat, but I have to be leaving now,' said Sodrid.
'See you tomorrow, same time, I guess,' said Etrin.
Sodrid left quickly. Golad came over to Etrin's table and sat down.
'Haven't you got customers to serve?' asked Etrin.
'We'll be closing soon,' said Golad, 'we don't get many customers at this time. Besides, I thought you could use some company. You've barely started your drink.'
'I'd prefer to sit alone, if you don't mind,' said Etrin, not in the mood for Golad's advances. She knew he was coming to it.
'Fine, if you wish,' said Golad, as he stood up and returned to the bar area.
As she was alone, Etrin sat to think about her upcoming exams. The fact that she had passed her test did not reassure her that she would pass the final exam, because it was known to be much harder than anything people had gone through in their lives.


'So it was composed of diryanide?' Tarlax asked Icu.
'Affirmative,' said Icu.
That gave Tarlax some kind of answer. Ever since he has come aboard his ship he had been trying to find the identity of the attackers of his ship that was destroyed over the planet Idan. He thought about it again. Foolish Crugave had plummeted down to the surface of the planet. As Tarlax deployed his parachute, he had activated his portable transporter (which Crugave didn't know he had) to beam to his nearby vessel (Crugave didn't know about that either). He didn't care about Crugave, didn't care to rescue him. From his experience, friends and comrades came and went. He couldn't waste time tracking Crugave on the surface of Idan, as by the time he would be rescued the attackers would be long gone.
Icu was Tarlax's computer. It was more than that, it had a personality of its own. It's original name was Icusanne, but he had eventually shortened it. Whenever he left his ship, he would download Icu into his wrist computer. He didn't like doing that, as losing Icu's program would be a great loss. He relied on Icu more than he would care to admit. In his ship, Icu did all the work, fought the battles, and analyzed Tarlax's findings while Tarlax himself sat back. However, this time it was different. He had a feeling that the attack over Idan required his attention, and felt that something big was about to happen. After all, he had never seen or heard of those people before, and he knew about all the races in the galaxy that were worth knowing about, and any race that could have powerful ships that appear out of nowhere like 'demons of air and darkness' would certainly be worth knowing about.
'Icu,' said Tarlax, 'looks like we've stumbled across something big. Any ship composed of diryanide must have sophisticated builders. We have to find them. Can you pick up their warp trail?'
'Negative,' said Icu, 'but weapon signature may give a clue as to the origin of the vessel.'
'Well analyze the weapon signature,' ordered Tarlax.
'Weapon signature unidentified,' said Icu.
It was at times like this that Icu seemed so mechanical.
'Icu,' said Tarlax, 'why suggest something you know wouldn't work?'
'Scanning,' said Icu.
'Scanning?' asked Tarlax. 'Scanning what? I haven't told you to scan.'
'Debris detected,' reported Icu, '3 rokolites ahead. Life signs detected.'
'Life signs?' asked Tarlax. 'In that case, alter course, let's take a proper look at that debris field.'
Tarlax had a feeling that he had encountered the remains of the anticipated Tkon-Aldrad battle. He had not yet heard the outcome of that battle, but he was about to find out. As he approached the debris, and there was lots of it, he could see that most of it was from Tkon ships. So the Aldrad were the victors. Tarlax never had a doubt that they would win, judging by their war record. Only fifty years ago they had fought the Croniks, and already their race was forgotten. The Tkon would quickly follow unless they had a miraculous and sudden recovery. According to Crugave, the Tkon had sent the majority of their fleets to Julagon. Tarlax reasoned that it was the Tkon's last chance.
'Identify source of life signs,' ordered Tarlax.
'Three life signs detected at following co-ordinates,' reported Icu.
Tarlax was shown the co-ordinates on the display screen. Suddenly Tarlax had an idea. Everyone had their chance in life to rise to power, and this was his. So the Aldrad were the victors, but they still needed information about the enemies encountered by Tarlax. By offering three Tkon prisoners, which the Aldrad would welcome, and information on the aggressors which only Tarlax could provide, Tarlax could get membership of the Imperium. The true controllers of the galaxy.
'Icu, we're going to be using the grapplers, activate them,' ordered Tarlax.
'Grapplers online,' said Icu.
Tarlax could now see what he had been scanning. A large piece of debris was floating about the area, and it could easily support life, assuming they knew how to stop the air from blowing out into space.
Tarlax tapped his computer panel. 'Icu, lock grapplers onto these co-ordinates and pull debris into the rear docking hatch.'
'Grapplers activating,' said Icu.
Tarlax pulled the lever to his right to stop the ship. Icu would need all the help it - or she as Tarlax had started to call it - could get.
The grapplers flew into space at high speed and grabbed the outer hull of the debris. Tarlax could see it come closer until it went above his sight. A few moments later, there was a bump as the two vessels collided. Tarlax took his pulse pistol out of his jacket.
'Icu, shut docking doors,' said Tarlax, 'and also blow debris vessel out of the docking hatch as soon as no life forms are aboard.'
'Confirmed,' said Icu.
Now it was time for Tarlax to meet his 'guests'. He wasn't going to tell them his plans yet, he wanted them to hear it from the Imperium when they were taken into custody by them. He stood up, but turned to face forward as he prepared to give Icu his final order for the moment.
'Resume course Icu,' ordered Tarlax, 'and tell me if anything else happens.'

'Thank you for rescuing us,' said the first Tkon 'guest', 'on behalf of the Tkon Empire, I convey our gratitude.'
'Who are you all?' asked Tarlax, hoping for one of them to be a command officer, making his upcoming trade more valuable.
'I am Trainee Elkrak,' said another of the Tkon, 'I served on the Tkon Warship Destroyer. But only for a few weeks, I'm still training.'
'My name is Rodo,' said the first Tkon again, 'I command the Destroyer. This is my first officer, Singol,' he continued, indicating the third Tkon, a woman, who gave Tarlax a fierce look. He didn't like it.
'What's going to happen to us?' asked Singol.
'I haven't decided yet,' lied Tarlax, 'do you want me to return you to Tkon?'
'No,' said Rodo, 'the Aldrad will be about to make their move. If you deliver us to the nearest Tkon colony, we'll be deploying ships to rescue General Yuldok.'
'Yuldok has been captured?' asked a startled Tarlax, who was familiar with the Tkon leader.
'Yes, the Primeship took him from his ship,' said Rodo, 'we heard One Serax was aboard. If we don't get him out of there, he'll be executed for sure.'
As far as Tarlax was concerned, he had that Tkon commander. He didn't care about much else. He turned and walked back to the cockpit. Commander Rodo and the other Tkon began to follow him, but the forcefield stopped them. They backed off, startled.
'What is this?' asked Rodo, 'why have you trapped us behind this forcefield? Lower it immediately!'
'Do I look like one of your officers?' asked Tarlax. 'I don't follow your orders. And as for rescuing Yuldok, you can forget that. In a day, you'll be in a cell on some Aldrad prison anyway. Yuldok will be dead, and the Aldrad Imperium will control the galaxy.'
'The galaxy's a big place,' said Rodo, 'I'm sure there are people out there that will make the Aldrad look as weak and pathetic as mice do to us now.'
'I don't care about the welfare of the Aldrad,' said Tarlax, 'all I care about is me. And that means I don't have a conscience, I don't care about anyone else, and I certainly won't put others above myself.'
'I should never have trusted you,' said Rodo, 'if that would have helped. You're a Grunari. They're known for their lies, their deceptions. Their entire race is one of treachery, of misleading.'
'Ever heard of discrimination?' asked Tarlax. 'Feel free to judge me, but don't judge my people.'
With that Tarlax returned to the cockpit. He had to get back to his scans.

'Our Tkon visitors know what's going to happen to them,' Tarlax said to Icu as he sat back down.
'What would you like me to do?' asked Icu.
'We need to get back to our study of the attackers,' said Tarlax, 'show me the schematics of the ship.'
On Tarlax's display, the blueprints of the attacking ship was displayed. Tarlax looked at it in detail. It was a bit vague.
'Icu, magnify the dorsal view by a factor of 4,' ordered Tarlax.
The dorsal view zoomed in. Now Tarlax could see the design of the hull in great detail. As he glimpsed the image, something caught his eye. There was insignia on the vessel. It read 'Iconian Warship'. Tarlax was sure he had never heard of the word 'Iconian' before, but the database might.
'Icu, scan database for mention of the word 'Iconian',' said Tarlax.
Tarlax sat back a moment while Icu scanned for databanks. He thought over that word again. Iconian. It seemed unknown, but somewhat familiar, as some words could be. Already he felt like he knew the people as aggressors. The facts were: they had appeared from nowhere, they had attacked and destroyed his ship with warning, and then they had left just as quickly as they had come. They had not come the same way they had left, as they left using conventional warp drive. That meant that they were still out there somewhere. Far away by now, but perhaps someone else would encounter them.
'Iconian,' said Icu, 'one occurrence in contemporal Grunari database.'
'Tell me about it,' ordered Tarlax, eager to hear more.
'In the Tkon Age of Ozari,' began Icu, 'Commander Tronin of the Tkon Empire reported an intruder in the main base of Tkon Command on the planet Tkon. Like a 'demon of air and darkness' he had come out of nowhere and he attacked the commander. He identified himself as an Iconian, but when he faced capture he vaporized himself. The incident had no witnesses, but Tronin swore that it was true. Few people believe this story.'
'I have to believe it,' said Tarlax, 'because it's another part of the puzzle regarding these Iconians. I don't want to track them down myself. The Aldrad will do anything to learn about them. Assuming no one else has encountered them, I will benefit from this knowledge.'
Like Crugave, the other deceitful Grunari, Tarlax's plan was so clear in his head. Crugave and Tarlax, former comrades, were apart, one on Idan, about to lead a civilization, the other, heading for the Aldrad Imperium, not sure about what will await him, but hoping to rise to power in his own selfish way using his own selfish methods. Commander Rodo was right, the Grunari had a history of lying for personal benefit. The Tkon on the other hand were known to be honorable, truth-telling diplomats. They would call people like Tarlax barbarians, who did not deserve life. A pity that the Tkon were destined to die the moment their star went supernova.


Chapter IV

EXECUTION ON QUODONIOUS


One Serax entered the command control room. Among the familiar officers there were Two Ional (of course, he seemed to be everywhere), Three Zarin, Three Luliq, and several lowly officers that had not reached their numbered rank yet. He came into full view of everyone else, as he like everyone to know that their leader had returned to command. Two Ional was at the science station discussing something with the strategy officer. Serax approached them, awaiting a report.
'One Serax,' said Three Luliq, startled.
'Report, Two Ional,' ordered Serax, ignoring Luliq.
Aldrad officers always addressed each other by their rank as well as their name, no matter how friendly they were with the other.
'We think we've found them,' said Ional, 'eight small ships, which is not what we expected. And they've been at our back door since we left Julagon. They're right behind us, in stealth mode.'
'Prepare for attack maneuvers,' ordered Serax.
At last, they were about to eliminate General Yuldok's defender squadron. At the back of his mind, Serax was thinking that it was a bit too easy for them that the enemy should be so close, and so vulnerable. But then he thought that the Tkon were incompetent, and they were incapable of formulating a cunning defense. True, some individuals had surprised others in the past, but as a race, Serax knew them as he knew Yuldok. Out of options.
Serax sat in the command chair. Two Ional walked to the lower walkway of the control room, preparing to give the orders given to him by Serax.
'Deploy armor shielding,' Ional ordered the defense operator.
'Shielding activated,' replied the operator.
Serax anticipated a quick reaction from the Tkon ships. He was right.
'The Tkon ships are moving into attack formation,' reported the sensor officer.
'Fools,' said Serax, 'if they dare to take on the Primeship in hope of some pointless rescue. Arm the rear torpedoes.'
'Locking torpedoes to compensate for the maneuvers,' said Three Zarin, who was manning weapons.
'Shall I summon the Primefleet?' asked Ional.
'No,' said Serax, 'we don't need any help here.'

The Primeship slowed. The Tkon fighters were circling the massive ship and firing their phasers at critical points of the battle hull. However, the Primeship was picking them off one by one, like swatting flies while walking through an infested garden. Easily, as well, as a maximum of two shots was used for each ship. Within two minutes it was all over, and the Primeship began to pick up speed again.

General Yuldok felt that increase in speed. And he had felt the torpedoes fire from the ship. They had woken him up, after he had gotten to sleep, probably the last sleep he would go through before his death. He had one chance, but he dared not think of it, he dared not formulate it. It was, in fact, already formulated, but he must not think of it anymore. He felt himself dozing off again.
Suddenly the com activated in the cell. Someone was calling him.
'Yuldok, this is One Serax,' said the comvoice of Serax, as calm and as mocking as ever, 'incase you want to know what interrupted your sleep, it was our torpedo fire, and the destruction of your defender squadron.'
Yuldok remained silent.
'This is a two-way channel, you can reply,' said Serax.
Yuldok remained silent still.

Serax closed the channel. Two Ional stood by him, with a grin on his face.
'Was that necessary?' he asked, half-joking.
'I won't be able to do anything like that after he's dead,' said Serax, 'besides, I don't want him to forget that we're thinking about him up here.'
'We need to issue new orders to the Primefleet,' said Ional, 'as far as they know, we've still not located the Tkon ships.'
'Tell them to rendezvous at Quodonious,' said Serax, 'they can spend the night with their families on the homeworld before the big event tomorrow.'
'We can bring it forward,' said Ional.
'No,' said Serax, 'it's raining on Quodonious today. I wouldn't want to spoil the mood.'
'Shall I return to my duties?' asked Ional.
'Yes, do it, make it so,' said Serax.
'A simple yes would suffice,' said Ional.
Serax did not like Ional standing up to him, but at least he was leaving Serax alone with his thoughts. So far he had not thought beyond Yuldok's execution, as it was on his mind all the time. He had to start planning, as the High Lord of Quodonious had entrusted the future of the Tkon people to him. The Emperor would normally handle such operations, but he was on his death bed, yet he still would not retire. Serax knew that the death of the Emperor would mean advancement for him, possibly an advancement to High Lord, replacing the current one, who would become Emperor.

General Yuldok woke up. This time it was not because of a sudden noise or movement. He had just went through his natural sleeping cycle, which meant it was now the day of his execution. He sat up. The cell was just as it had been when he went to sleep, except now it seemed a bit bigger. He was looking at things differently. His nervousness was getting the better of him.
He knocked at the door, hoping that someone would respond. No one did, so he sat back down, and started praying. He didn't say anything, as his mind was too busy. Time seemed to be passing rapidly, yet painfully slowly.
After what seemed like an hour the doors opened and two guards entered. They were wearing masks, and they simply grabbed Yuldok by each arm and took him out of the cell. Thankfully the corridors were dark, so he was not blinded by the light. One Serax was standing in front of him as his hands were electronically tied together. He could not move them because of a restraining field around his hands.
'It's time,' said Serax.
'I'll decide when it's time,' said Yuldok in response.
One Serax led the two guards and Yuldok across the corridor. Yuldok could think of nothing else but his people, and how they would recover from the Battle of Julagon.
'I'm sorry we did not have time to interrogate you,' said Serax, 'your defender squadron were in stealth mode.'
Yuldok did not reply. His head was down. Serax assumed he had admitted defeat. Yuldok was not far from it.
'We're approaching the docking bay,' said Serax, 'do you have anything to say?'
Yuldok still did not say anything.
'A little quiet recently,' said Serax, 'lets see what you have to say when you're strapped to the base of the Execution Stadium, ready to be liquified by the Primeship above you.'
Serax, Yuldok and the guards arrived at the docking bay. The guards escorted Yuldok inside, and the doors closed behind them. Serax, on the other hand, was leaving a little later. Two Ional was joining him in the transporter room so they could beam down to headquarters in the capital, where they would meet with the other Twos, Ones, the High Lord, the Emperor, and other important officials. Delegates from the Wuts, Nells and Skrets would also be there. The delegates and Aldradian leaders would be seated in the north stand, and the rest would be filled with civilians and lowly officers, whether they be from the Aldradians, the alds, or other alien races. They even had a few Triarians and a few Grunali.
One Serax left the docking bay and headed for the conference room to have breakfast. He always ate there alone.

One hundred thousand people of races across the galaxy were all talking, shouting, singing, yelling, screaming, chanting, and chatting all at once. It was a bright day on Quodonious, which was the hub of commerce at the moment, even more so than Exdon, the planet that had convinced itself that it was important. Quodonious was where the action really happened.
One Serax sat down. On either side of him was One Ruon, who commanded a fleet a few star systems from Quodonious, and Two Ional, whom he couldn't seem to get rid of. He could see General Yuldok being escorted to the center of the base of the Stadium. The guards were armed, despite the fact that Yuldok's hands were still tied together with the restraining field.
The High Lord and the Emperor were at the bottom, three rows below Serax. The Emperor should not have come because of his ill condition, but he had insisted. The High Lord was still young and energetic, as he was still under 300. The Emperor must have been over 500 years old.
As Serax sat, he hoped that the Aldrad One below him did not increase in height during the event and block his view. Serax was tall, but he felt small compared some people he had met. He could see Yuldok was now strapped to the base. Looking up, the Primeship was in position, ready to fire the beam that would liquify Yuldok's body.
Yuldok, in the meantime, could see so many of his enemies all at once. He had met them all in battle, but most of the mocking came from the general public. They were preparing to start the countdown to his execution, but first the officials would say a few words.
The High Lord stood up and prepared to make an announcement.
'Comrades and friends of the Aldrad,' said the High Lord, 'this is the High Lord of Quodonious speaking for the Emperor. The countdown will commence momentarily. But first, we'll give Yuldok a moment for his final words.'
All attention was on Yuldok, including that of One Serax. Judging by his ignorance at him earlier, he did not expect Yuldok to speak.
The silence was deafening, but at last Yuldok raised his head as high as he could and looked directly at his enemy, One Serax, who knew he was looking at him. He returned the menacing look. Yuldok took a breath, which he felt confident would be his last. 'DIE BARBARIANS!!!!!' he shouted in his loudest possible voice.
A sudden outrage filled the crowd. They were all shouting, but they managed to organise themselves and start the ten-second countdown.
10, 9, 8, 7
Many looked up. The Primeship was lowering, arming the beam.
6, 5, 4, 3
They all looked at Yuldok, ready for the next big victory of their people. They couldn't help but wonder when they would be asked where they were when Yuldok was executed, and how impressed the asker would be when told that they were in the stadium watching the even live.
2, 1
The Primeship fired the beam a bit before 0 hit. The crowd followed the beam down to the base, where Yuldok was lying.
Then it happened. Without warning, six individuals appeared out of nowhere, in a way like 'demons of air and darkness', and shot Yuldok free. It happened so fast that by that moment no one had realised that anything was wrong. They masked strangers took Yuldok and dematerialized, with him. They were gone. The beam from the Primeship hit the base like it was supposed to, but it didn't accomplish its task.
The stadium was filled with light. Everyone covered their eyes, but not Serax. He activated his communicator.
'Primeship, return me to the ship now,' said Serax, not wanting to give the rescuers a chance to get away with their prize.

One Serax entered the command chamber. For once, Two Ional was not there. He quickly sat in his command chair, with no time to waste.
'Send new orders to the Primefleet,' ordered Serax, 'a ship is leaving Quodonious. Follow it and destroy it.'
'Orders received by all ship,' said the communications officer, 'except for one. One of the Rocket Shuttles has not received orders.'
'Send it again,' said Serax.
'I am,' said the officer, 'I'm not picking up anything there. It's gone, the Rocket Shuttle is gone.'
'What do you mean?' asked Serax.
'It was there just a moment ago,' said the officer, 'but it's just vanished.'
Serax had a decision to make, and he made it quickly.
'We'll deal with this later,' he said. 'Pursue that ship.'

The Primeship picked up speed. The rescue ship was still ahead of them, and also gaining speed. One Serax was suspicious.
'How can a ship go so fast?' he asked a nearby Three rhetorically.
'It's still accelerating,' reported the flight controller.
'It should be tearing itself apart,' remarked Serax.
'We will if we don't slow down soon,' said the defense officer.
The decisions were mounting. The big event had fallen apart, and Serax had not given himself a chance to react. He could not until he had either stopped that ship or died in the attempt. But perhaps there would be another chance. He could not sacrifice a thousand lives aboard the Primeship, not to mention the approaching Primefleet, just to recapture a stolen captive. Assuming that they were capturing him, as he could have arranged a rescue. That ship was certainly not Tkon, and they were not heading for Tkon space. So who were they, and where were they going? Serax would do anything for that information.
But it wasn't time to lose lives needlessly.
'All stop,' he said.
The flight controller decreased speed. The alien ship gracefully continued accelerating. One Serax sighed. Now he would have to face the consequences of Yuldok's escape. He should have killed him when he had the chance. The next time he saw Yuldok, he would. He promised himself that.

Etrin Jonal entered her home after another day of hell at the training center. It was all caused by Kabal, of course. There was no test that day, but he didn't need that excuse to cause mayhem for Etrin.
She turned on the lights and sat down on her sofa.
'Computer, play me some music,' she said to the computer.
Some pleasant and soothing music from Triarian history played. Etrin sat back with her eyes closed. Sometimes she liked to get away from her life, from what was going on around her. It just seemed that so much was happening recently. According to Sodrid, the Tkon had surrendered to the Aldrad Imperium. Etrin didn't believe rumors, but if it were true Etrin would be happy. No more battles dangerously close to Exdon, no more Aldrad coming down to Exdon to recruit officers. It could be over. But it was still a rumor, and Etrin would not pay any attention to it.
'Computer, do I have any mail?' asked Etrin.
'Affirmative,' said the computer, 'three messages.'
'Any from friends?' asked Etrin.
'One message from Sodrid,' replied the computer.
'Play it,' said Etrin.
Suddenly Etrin could hear Sodrid's voice as the computer played her mail message.
'You'll never guess where I've been,' said Sodrid, 'I've been on Quodonious. Yeah, that's right. Ringon invited me to General Yuldok's execution. I know I shouldn't have went, but, well, that doesn't really matter. Everyone from Quodonious to Julagon knows it, so I'll tell you now. Yuldok escaped. It was a total waste of time, so me and Ringon spent the rest of our time on the planet by getting acquainted with two people we met there. Ringon ended up with a Wut! She couldn't yet over his long neck. Eventually I got bored and just left. I'll probably be back on Quodonious by tonight. See you then, meet you at the usual time in Golad's bar.'
Etrin Jonal hadn't really listened to that. The moment she heard the word Quodonious she knew it would be about either the Imperium, which she hated, or General Yuldok, who she didn't really hate but he was getting himself into trouble a little too much. Not that she knew much about it.
The music resumed. Etrin felt comforted by it's soothing notes and casual rhythm. She loved Triarian music. It was so much more relaxing than Tkon's threatening music, or some other kind. The Aldradians did not have music of any kind, although they did occasionally sing. Curious.
'So what are the other messages?' Etrin asked the computer.
'One message from Mr. Agrit Jonal,' said the computer.
'I'll take that tomorrow,' said Etrin.
'One message from Exdon Flight Training Supervisor Kabal,' continued the computer.
That did shock Etrin. A message from Kabal? It must be urgent for him to call.
'Okay, play it,' said Etrin.
Kabal's voice came through. 'Etrin Jonal,' he said, 'this is Supervisor Kabal. Your final exam has been brought forward to tomorrow first thing. Prepare well. I'm sorry to impose on you like this, but the news didn't reach me until after you had left today, and there was no other way for me to contact you. Good luck.'
Sure, good luck. He was probably the one who brought the date forward in the first place. Etrin had never been so nervous in her life. An exam the next day? She had to look over a few notes she had. And she had arranged to meet Sodrid at Golad's later. Well, she would have to cancel it. No, she would invite Sodrid up to discuss it with her. That way she could insult Kabal without customers knowing her business.
Once again, the music resumed. Etrin sat back, but she only had a moment before she would have to start looking over her notes. With an exam looming, she had to study. In her case, it was vital if she was going to pass and accomplish her dream of travelling through space, and going where no one had gone before. That dream was shared by some of the most famous Triarians, as well some enterprising famous explorers. If only they were alive in Etrin's time, then they would truly be exploring the unknown.


Chapter V

THE DIVIDING LINE


'This is very complicated,' said Mulace. 'I can't really understand how it works.'
'It's simple,' replied Crugave, 'if you study the circuitry then you'll start to know how it works.'
'I've done that, but it's more complicated than anything I've ever worked with.'
Crugave had been working with Mulace for two days, Ungal time. The scientist had surprised him in some areas, but baffled him with his stupidity in others. Mulace had had some success in understanding the portable replicator, but that was only when Crugave explained it as basically as possible. Mulace had started to buld a basic replication unit, but he did not understand the pulse pistol, which Crugave had told him was a scanning device. He hadn't wanted to seem hostile.
'Fine, we'll leave that until later,' said Crugave.
To add to Crugave's problems, the Ungal were having no success in finding Tarlax. Or the ship wreckage. They had covered a great deal of land for such small a time, but Crugave was beginning to wonder if perhaps Tarlax was dead. As far as Crugave knew, he had no way of escape except to head for Idan the same way he did. Thus Tarlax was definitely somewhere on the planet. The Ungal had to keep searching.
Suddenly someone entered Crugave's reisdence. It was Saline, one of the younger Ungal women. She worked with Plathus, and sometimes performed the religious ceremonies. She was one of the few Ungal who could manipulate people's thoughts with her mind, but she did not like using that ability. So what was she doing here?
Mulace went to greet her. They were friends, as far as Crugave knew.
'Saline, hello,' said Mulace, 'is something wrong?'
'No,' said Saline, 'Plathus asked me to give Crugave a message.'
Mulace turned to Crugave, expecting him to respond.
'What's the message?' asked Crugave.
'Perhaps we should take this outside,' said Saline.
Crugave stood up. He half-feared that Saline would control his thoughts when they left the building. As the left, Mulace returned to the lab in the next room to work on his replication unit.
Crugave and Saline began walking through the village. For some reason, the Ungal liked to walk as they talked. Curious, as Crugave had taken up the habit as well.
'So what is it?' asked Crugave.
'Well it's more of a request that a message,' said Saline.
'What does Plathus want now?' asked Crugave.
'Well it was my idea, Prophet of the Stars,' said Saline.
'Call me Crugave,' said Crugave.
'Okay, Crugave,' began Saline. 'Plathus and I would like you to conduct the ritual service in the Temple of R'Dume this evening. It's simple, Plathus will guide you through it. It would mean so much to the Ungal.'
'I guess I can't say no,' said Crugave, aware that he couldn't say no, 'I'll be there in two hours. Tell Plathus to meet me there, so he can walk me through it first.'
'I'll be there too,' said Saline, 'I know more about the ritual than Plathus.'
'See you later then,' said Crugave.
Saline left without saying goodbye. Crugave turned to return to his residence. However, after Saline went out of sight, he realised he needed to ask her something as well. He began pursuing her. She came back into view moments later. She was standing talking to two other Ungal. As Crugave recalled, they were called Vultrig and Olgik. Crugave hadn't spoken to them, but as far as he knew they were one of the only Ungal that had considered the possibility that Crugave was not who he said he was. Deciding to listen to the conversation without being seen, he remained behind the corner of the building.
'So will he be conducting the ceremony?' asked Vultrig.
'Yes,' said Saline, 'as I said he would. I'm sure that will settle your concerns about him.'
'Hardly,' said Oglik, 'don't you realise that he asked us not to probe his mind for a reason? He's not the Prophet of the Stars, if there even is one.'
'You two are hardly religious at all,' said Saline, 'obviously you don't support our beliefs.'
'What about you?' asked Vultrig. 'And the other Ungal? You are letting your beliefs convince you that he is this god.'
'He came from the sky,' said Saline, 'just as the scrolls promised he would. Have you ever seen anything like that? He looks unlike any Ungal. He brings us speech, which no Ungal has heard before. He is without a doubt the Prophet of the Stars.'
'This is a warning,' said Oglik, 'when I'm proved right, I'll remember what you've said here.'
'What about the things he's been teaching Mulace?' cut in Vultrig. 'These magic tricks with technology?'
'He has come just as predicted in the scrolls,' said Saline, 'that's all the proof I need.'
'What about the final chapter?' asked Vultrig, 'no one but the elders can read that, and the elders we have now are refusing to do it. Maybe they show that Crugave is not who he says he is.'
'Blasphemy,' said Saline, 'the work of misguided people. All you see is doubt. It is you people who don't know the meaning of the word faith.'
With that Saline walked away and entered the Temple. Crugave had a few things to think about. First, he had to avoid Vultrig and Oglik, and second, he had to find out about this final chapter of the scrolls. It worried him greatly.

'Still no success,' reported the lead Ungal searcher. Crugave didn't know his name.
'Carry on,' ordered Crugave.
The searchers entered the Temple of R'Dume, as most of the Ungal were doing. They were preparing for the ritual service. Plathus had gone over the basics of it with Crugave, but Saline was a bigger help. As far as Crugave knew, Mulace was still working on the replication unit. He was not very religious.
Crugave himself entered the Temple. At the conclusion of the ceremony, he was going to read the forbidden final chapter of the scrolls, which even the elders would not read. They were not going to give him permission to read it until Plathus ordered them to allow it. After that, Crugave was going to return to his residence and have dinner. The next day Plathus was going to be appointed leader of his people. After Crugave had told the Ungal that they would be exploring the sky, they had decided to appoint a world leader. Plathus was going to be that leader. They would have to call him Lord Plathus. All of them except Crugave, that is. He was still unofficially Lord Crugave, but he had only heard a select few Ungal call him that.
Dozens upon dozens of Ungal were praying, and chanting. Crugave walked up to the circle of scrolls and placed his hand on the center pillar, as Saline had told him to do.
'This ritual commences,' he said.
The Ungal all looked up, and an immediate silence filled the room. They were not aware how anxious Crugave was. Looking around, he could see many familiar faces. Fortunately, Vultrig and Oglik were not among his audience.
'As the great Vetrake communicated through thought across the minds of the Ungal, ''one day we will return to the sky''. That day is coming, so let us prepare. Now we will recite the Order of Vetrake in the first order.'
Of course, the Order of Vetrake originated with pure thought. The Ungal were still having trouble talking. Half of them were now using the new Ungal language, but many were still insistent on speaking Grunali.
The Ungal began to recite the Order of Vetrake. Crugave listened rather than join in, as the chant was in Ungal language.

Bodrik Glera Volik
Vetrake Fe Lamonis
Mergat Zernaxanis Korin Korin
Pogul Ungal Buquate Re
Jolidge I Re'Grone
Re'Grone Vetrake

Loran I Erulin Fe
Vetrake Fe Lamonis
Tryiplit Grok Korgim
Ol Ungal Vetrake
Drolain Change' Ling
Olaxin

Re'Grone Vetrake, Hiprin Ungal

The chanting stopped. Crugave was not going to pretend he knew what they were talking about. Probably something about 'returning to the sky'. There was something about Vetrake in there as well. Now the responsibility to continue the service fell on Crugave again. He looked at his audience.
'We worship the land we walk on, it is a gift from above, and the work of the light,' said Crugave, in a rather monotonous tone, as he imagined rituals always were. 'We worship the gifts of the land, provided by the entity beneath that sprouts our resources from the ground. Let us show our appreciation by saluting the... Prophet of the Stars.'
At this, Crugave saw that the Ungal were giving him the Ungal salute. He imagined that before he came they had done it in the direction of the sky.
'Now, we will read the scrolls,' said Crugave. 'Chapter 5. The New Age.'
The Ungal went forward to step up to the circle of scrolls. It was Crugave's time to rest while they read from the scrolls. He leaned his head back, exhausted.

Hours later, Crugave was seeing Saline out of the Temple. He had said he would be remaining for a few minutes. His unspoken objective was of course to read the final chapter of the scrolls, and see what it said about the Prophet of the Stars. He wanted to see what even the Ungal didn't know about their faith. Fortunately, the elders had all retired to bed. Saline was at the door.
'Shall I tell Mulace you'll be late?' asked Saline.
'I didn't tell him when I would return,' said Crugave, 'you shouldn't bother yourself to make such an effort.'
'Very well,' said Saline. 'Goodnight, Crugave.'
'Goodnight,' said Crugave.
Crugave closed the Temple doors. He then turned back to the circle of scrolls and stepped up to the last one. He already had a feel