1.1
“Each planet’s ruler controls intra-planetary laws and customs. Past actions have forced the Alliance to no longer leave anything else to chance.” – ‘The Iron Alliance’
Metabode
Aaron Orilis scanned the monitors aboard the ship with indifference as it flew through the grim Metean sky. There were no signs of radiation according to the instruments across the smooth control panel, but that didn’t mean much to the King of Orilix. Every aspect of the spaceship that now carried them had been reverse engineered and furthered from scavenged Metean technology, and they had not seen the red-bomb coming.
“My King,” the tall Orlixi sitting next to him advised through a mess of auburn hair that nearly obscured his eyes. The pilot pointed towards the outline of a massive city growing on the gray horizon. “It’s right where the map indicated.”
“Metallurg,” Aaron tested the word aloud. The fabled city of the Meteans still haunted stories to this day. Legend had it that this was the city where the Meteans had first discovered space flight. That it was from Metallurg that the armies of Metom the Great had set forth to conquer all of Solixia.
“The ship detects no life,” the pilot added somewhat nervously.
Aaron nodded. The others aboard the ship had crowded behind the cockpit’s door in order to see the city. He could feel the same touch of fear in each of them. Yes, it was said that all of the Ironskinned had died from effects of the red-bomb, but their complete destruction had never been proven.
No one had dared Metabode. Until now.
“Set us down where there is a clear path to escape, Koran. We don’t know if the city’s defenses still hold,” Aaron ordered, looking back into the eyes of the others. As King he did not fear meeting life on the surface, but he did have to ensure the safety of his company.
He withheld a smile as he met the eyes of a shorter woman with straight blonde hair falling just below her shoulders. Instead, he took the moment to study her nearly perfect face. If any had to be sacrificed for their escape, he would make sure it wasn’t Leena.
“Prepare to enter the city,” Aaron commanded.
His words sent the other four Orlixi scattering to retrieve their ventilation masks and s’ore powered weapons. Already, they wore protective gray body suits that had been tested against the highest levels of radiation in the royal laboratories hidden within the bowels of Orilix.
The King flashed a look to Koran.
The pilot nodded in understanding. “I know the plan, my King. We will leave with you or not leave at all.”
Aaron patted the man on the back and picked up the glowing breathing apparatus from where he had left it on the seat beside the pilot. The s’ore that powered the filtration devices within the slick looking mask glowed with a familiar orange light.
Taking a deep breath, the King strapped the clear mask over his face and felt the perimeter of the apparatus tighten against his flesh. The devise had been built by his best engineers on Orilix, but simulations could never prepare them for the actuality of the Metean air. He would have to trust that it would work long enough for them to gather any information the Ironskinned had left behind on their hidden reserve of s’ore.
“My King,” Leena said as she appeared before him. “We stand ready.”
Even with the strange mask covering her pale face, she was still very attractive. Some might even say beautiful. Aaron felt the familiar pull of desire towards the woman and forced himself to shake it off. There would be time for that later.
He hoped.
Aaron followed Leena to the back of the ship where three others sat along one of the benches that lined the silver wall. Each had been equipped with a glowing s’ore rifle that hung delicately at their waste. The weapons would be good for some ten shots each before they would be left only to steel.
Rations, the King thought with disgust as he carefully unlocked the ornate weapon case that rested on the bench against the other wall. A few decades ago this mission would have entailed bringing enough s’ore munitions to incinerate all of Metallurg. Now, they could barely afford the four rifles one cartridge apiece. But it was nothing he couldn’t handle.
The King smiled as the sight of his great s’ore blade always bade him to.
The thick sword was some four feet in length and another two across. In the light of the space craft, the s’ore infused steel gleamed like a gemstone. The razor sharp, edge of the blade could handle a small amount of s’ore infusion. When combined with s’ore, the blade was a searing star, able to cut through anything in its path.
“You all were chosen to follow me on this mission for a reason,” he said sternly. “I know that you will not fail me, whatever awaits us in this hell.” He made sure to meet each of the others eyes individually in order to instill as much confidence as possible.
Besides Leena, there were two of his King’s Guard – Fend and Fain – and a young engineer who had been the first to volunteer for this mission.
His name was one Aaron was particularly fond of, Amon. Amon was one of the best they had at manipulating Metean technology. To the King’s understanding, the engineer had transcribed some of the few portions of Metean written language they had deciphered to date.
As the door to the pilot’s chambers sealed behind them, Aaron took his sword from its protective casing and readied to face anything that awaited them.
The others would follow their King’s bravery, even if the true reason Aaron went ahead was to be the first Solixian to step foot on Metabode in over a thousand years. A thousand years from now, everyone would remember his name because of it.
Even the King tensed as the spacecraft’s far wall split neatly in two, slowly separating to reveal the dark land of their ancestor’s enslavers.
Just before the automated process had finished, Aaron leapt through the opening and activated the s’ore resting in the hilt of his blade. The edge of the great sword was instantly framed by the fiery glow of s’ore.
Aaron waited for a moment on the broken ground of Metabode, carefully studying his surroundings. Nothing moved on the bleak and cracked plains of the alien planet. Satisfied, he deactivated the s’ore reserve in his blade and ordered the others to follow.
Metallurg (Metabode)
Inside the abandoned city, the group silently snaked between the shadows of the great buildings. It seemed that each of the structures, no matter how elaborate or simple, was built of the same gray-black material.
As they wound their way towards the great tower in the city center, it was apparent that Metallurg had escaped much of the red-bomb’s destruction. Only one in four or five of the strange structures had suffered significant damage. Fewer still had completely collapsed.
“Amon,” Aaron beckoned.
The young blond headed engineer was quickly beside him. “Yes, my King?”
“You’re certain that this was all planned,” the King hissed under his breath. “That the city was purposefully spared by the Alliance?”
Amon nodded. “According to the Voice of Orilix.”
Charlotte, Aaron smiled.
Now there was a true catch of a woman. The Voices of each planet were the hardest to bed of all the imposing women the Colony turned out. Many would say that they were impossible. The four Voices were only one step below the Madame Speaker herself – far above simple Agents. The King had already corrupted several Agents with little difficulty. Charlotte was a challenge worthy of his pedigree.
Nothing is impossible for me, he thought with a grin.
“Based on the structure of their own weapons and ships,” Amon continued, glancing warily at the s’ore blade Aaron balanced expertly in his hand, “s’ore was just as important to them as it is to us. Therefore, it stands to … um … reason that any hint of hidden reserves would rest in the great tower – which served as home to those of Metom’s own blood … and of course to Metom himself.”
Aaron frowned. “By the stars, man! Don’t say that name aloud.”
The group froze as if they waited for the Great Emperor to descend upon them from out of the green-gray sky. Thankfully, there was no further sound in the ancient city; however, the King didn’t think that the venomous silence was any better. He felt sure that something was watching them move through the abandoned streets.
“I’m sorry, my King,” Amon apologized nervously a moment later. The engineer’s blue eyes swept the empty street and buildings in front of them, as if he alone could stop the impending Ironskin ambush he had triggered.
The sound of crumbling stone came suddenly from behind them, causing the engineer to fire his s’ore rifle at one of the strange buildings. Before Aaron could stop him, the glowing round burned through the near wall and detonated within. The alien crafting material of the Meteans fell like rain upon them.
“Are you trying to get us killed?” Fain roared as he snatched away the engineer’s rifle. “My King, I told you he did not need to be armed.”
Aaron raised a hand and cut the guard off. “Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise, Fain. If anything is left in this city it will certainly come for us now.”
“The Starmother’s blessings cannot reach this hell,” Fain growled.
The King shrugged at the guard’s words but made no move to give Amon back the weapon. If anyone were going to be jumpy, he thought, I would have guessed Leena.
He briefly met her starry blue eyes. Then again, she is a very strong woman. And beautiful.
He had first met Leena almost a year ago to the day. She was the Starcaptain – another designation of Solixians turned out by the Alliance – of one of the merchant fleets that traveled the galaxy. Leadership had always impressed him. And with a few words, Aaron had ensured that she became a personal advisor on the mission. That she was always near.
Leena provided her King with a smile that made him want to rush back to the ship with her in tow.
No, I have to hold off … for now.
As planned, they had grown close on the flight to Metabode; maybe not as close as he had liked, but certainly enough that his stature and looks could seal the deal. But now was certainly not the time. Sometimes he hated responsibility.
“Let’s go,” Aaron said after a moment of fantasizing. “Perhaps the Starmother watches over us after all.”