Voices echoed deep within the endless darkness, some familiar and some new and strange. Whispers came from the distant, sweet nothings from someone he might have known from a long time ago. He had a son, the voices disappeared, and the thought made him reel; what if Thanatos found out, what if his son got killed? Raven’s words seemed to echo in his mind repeatedly; everything else did not matter.

There was an echo of cheering crowds, maybe a million strong. The cheering crowds seemed to grow louder; he could feel a gush of incredible wind sweep over him. It grew louder, deafening. Cheering and clapping at the mention of his name, this could not be true. It felt to him like he was pulled out from the water; his senses came back to him.

“This man has saved the lives of your ministers in an attack aimed at my life. He has proven himself worthy to the elders and those of the great assemblies of the Empire.”

More cheering followed, the sounds of the crowds grew louder as the announcement echoed from the loudspeakers; was he dead? Indeed the doctors thought he was when he was brought to the palace hospital. A shot to his side nearly went up all the way to his heart, causing excessive internal bleeding and some damage to his liver and left lung. However, the pain appeared to be gone; he was comfortable.

“I have been informed….” The announcement continued, Sorath recognized the voice belonging to Ulri. “…That he is being woken from his induced sleep as I speak, within the hour, you will hear from your new emperor!” The crowds cheered even louder. Has he succeeded in his mission to acquire the throne for himself? He did not do anything for the Empire; saving Ulri was pure coincidence.

He pushed hard; his eyes struggled to open. A voice familiar and sweet encouraged him. “Please wake up.” It was Raven, she was there next to him. Sorath could sense she had tears in her eyes, and the hope within her heart that he would wake from his deep sleep was growing stronger. “I have a son.” He thought the words were only in his mind, Raven responded to them. “Yes, you do.” His eyes slowly opened to a much-relieved Raven; her tears of sorrow turned to tears of joy. He smiled at her, and she leaned in and held him tightly. 

There were not many people around the room, maybe three or four medical robots, a doctor monitoring life support equipment, and Ulri standing by an open window addressing what Sorath assumed were crowds outside the hospital. The pain in his side was gone, he was off the oxygen machines, and the hovering monitoring equipment seemed to lose interest and hover back to their stations. Finally, the doctor noticed Sorath was awake and rushed to him, alerting Ulri of the situation.

“Your majesty.” The address was strange; he did not expect it. The doctor held up a pad of some sorts with images displayed on it. “Can you please tell me what you see?” Although at first, his vision was blurry, he wiped his eyes and tried again. It was a Lorian Rose, he repeated his thoughts, and the doctor was satisfied. It must have been nine or ten more pictures, and Sorath managed to identify all of them.

“You and your primitive ways, doctor Naomi.”

“It works.” the doctor jokes back. “You are ready to leave.” She continued, forgetting her courteousness from a moment ago.

Very slowly, Sorath lifted himself to an upright position; the world was spinning around him; a headache plagued him for a moment but passed a few moments later. Raven held his arm assisting him; he appreciated the assistance and slowly stood to his feet. But, again, the world around him was moving, nausea crept upon him, but he held it back.

“How long was I out?”

“Fourteen days.” The words came as a shock from the doctor; he couldn’t believe it. His thoughts dwelt to Archon Tristius; seeing the old man lay on the floor lifeless was all he could remember.

“Did Tristius make it?” He directed the question to Ulri, knowing he was the only one aware of who he was.

“He did not make it, your majesty.” Ulri’s head bowed as the words were difficult to speak. Sorath lowered his head in anguish.

“Has he been collected?” Knowing the protocols of the Order, he was afraid the Order had already collected his body, not giving him a chance to say his last goodbye.

“As an honored protector of the empire he lies in state, he will be collected after twenty days.”

“I would like to see him.”

“As you wish, your majesty.” Ulri bowed, though their business was not finished. He looked up at Sorath with a smile.

“The council of Elders and the ministers of the empire, if you’d accept, decided to crown you emperor of Prion.” Sorath figured as much; his mission on Prion was complete. He was not looking forward to the briefing with Iphis.

“It will be my honor to accept this burden.” He replied with a somber tone; everyone in the room picked it up but chose to ignore it.

“The people outside are waiting to see if their new Emperor is well. Would you indulge them?” Ulri gestured towards the open window; he thought about it for a few seconds and saw it as his duty to follow the instructions and customs of Prion. He nodded. Sorath drew his attention to Raven. “Only if you accept me as the new emperor.” His tone was severe, but Raven looked him in the eyes and smiled.

“The Royal Guard accepts your ascension, your majesty.” Sorath smiled; the room was slowing down around him; he felt easy enough on his feet to move around by himself. He walked towards the window but was stopped by Raven; she almost wanted to laugh.

“Do you wish for the galaxy to see how much of a man you are?” In confusion, he looked at her, he looked at Ulri, and then to the doctor. The doctor found the courage to point down at his body. Sorath looked down and realized that he did not have a shred of clothing on. There is no need to try and hide anything now; everyone in the room saw him in all his glory.

“Of cause not.” He laughed back, he tried to hide his embarrassment, but Raven knew better. She pressed a button on a console close to her; two robots appeared from a hole in the ceiling with clothing at hand; faster than any human or even Sorath himself, they dressed him in a formal uniform of the monarch. Now he was ready.

Ulri went ahead of him, he announced: “Citizens of Prion, with great pleasure and a humbled heart, I wish to announce to you this: The emperor has woken!” The crowds were cheering louder than ever, then after a few moments, it went silent; everyone was anticipating the appearance of their new Emperor.

“What is the protocol here?” Sorath directed the question to Raven; she was surprised he asked her.

“I suppose you should smile and wave.”

Ulri turned around and smiled at Sorath. “The people love you even though they haven’t seen you yet…. So there is no need to say anything. Appear before your people, and I will signal you as soon as you can come back in.”

Sorath nodded; he walked up to the window, nervous, something he had not known since childhood. The first to see him appear by the window cheered and yelled with excitement, and the rest of the crowds joined in. Sorath felt awkward; not knowing what to do, he took Raven's advice; he lifted his left hand and waved with a smile on his face as broad as the hospital wall. This aroused the crowd even more, the reaction of which not Raven or Ulri could have anticipated. The people of Prion had not been this excited at the crowning of their last emperor.

Minutes went by that felt like hours; he was unsure how long he was supposed to keep waving and smiling; the cheering never ceased. Finally, it was time; Ulri touched him on his shoulder, signaling that he may return. It was the longest five minutes of his life. Wiping the sweat off his brow, he looked at Ulri.

“I would like to see him.” His voice low, his eyes heavy. He was struggling to keep the pain hidden.

“Right this way.” Ulri gestured.

 

 

The repairs on the palace had already begun; all around them, construction robots buzzed around going here, going there. Few humans could be seen roaming amongst them. The palace guard had been doubled, pulled from the Assembly Buildings and the residences of influential politicians. They were prepared for another attack. They have accomplished much in the fourteen days he was out; the damage was more extensive than he thought.

“About the matter of the attack.” Ulri broke his train of thought, he was trying not to think about it, but it was hard to ignore. “We are not sure who planned the attack, but you and me both know where they came from.”

Sorath did not want to think about it; he wasn’t sure if it came from Thanatos or Iphis; deep down, he knew the answer, and he didn’t like it.

“The Morningstar is docked at the edge of the system, our spies struggled to find the ship, but it hasn’t moved in days.” Ulri was suggestive, the ship's resources were well known by him, and he never knew there would be assassins on board the vessel. They must have been ordered from outside the system.

“Our surveillance stations have picked up on chatter between the Morningstar and an unknown ship from beyond the system. There was definitely coordination between the two. If you don’t mind me saying, your majesty, I do not trust the captain of the Morningstar.” There it was, Ulri was planting the seeds; somehow, he knew the short Politian had a point. He also did not trust his captain; the man was deceptive and ambitious, a dangerous combination.

“What would you have me do?” He finally asked Ulri; the little man seemed satisfied.

“I trust that not all the personnel on the Morningstar are involved in this attack….”

“Captain Rogers usually works alone.”

“Then it will make things easy. Lead your personal guard onto the ship and arrest the captain, bring him back to Prion to be trailed, and you will be a bigger hero to the empire yet.”

Sorath was uneasy about this; he would have to consult with Iphis before he made a decision on the matter, it took too much for him to become the emperor, one false move, and he could lose it all. But, first, he had to pay his respects to Tristius; the man was more than a father to him; he was the reason Sorath was still alive and able to complete his mission.

It took more than a standard half-hour to enter the hall where Tristius was lying in state; no one was there, not even guards. An unworthy reception for the true hero of the day. If the people of Prion knew this, they would not have crowded outside the hospital window but instead filled this hall to salute a fallen hero.

Sorath could almost not build up the courage to walk up to the body of the most extraordinary man he ever knew. His left hand shook. It was a new sensation for him; he had never known these feelings he was feeling at that moment. Sauntering up the altar stairs, he lowered his head in respect; he knew not what else to do. Tristius’s presence that was always felt in any room he entered was not there anymore. The man was truly gone. How were they able to save him but not Tristius? Sorath’s thoughts were racing, anger-filled thoughts replaced with regret soon after and finally a deep sorrow. He would never have the opportunity to thank his mentor for shaping him into the man he was.

He finally stopped next to the glass-domed casket; he lifted his head slightly and looked at the old skinny vessel of a once-great man lying lifeless in its final bed. His chest closed up, a pain shot up into his head from his back, and finally, a tear emerged from his left eye.

“When I left Prion, you were the only Archon willing to train me; they said I was not going to live past thirty. So you took me in and loved me like a father and trained me as a true heir; you were always there for me. Now you lay in this closed casket, very close to my touch but very far from my heart. I loved you, dad.” He lowered his head once again, his sorrow growing like a bottomless pit. He thought deeply; nothing pained him more than Tristius’s last words. The man trusted him and thought he would listen, but he refused Tristius’s request.

There was no way out through the chaos and death; he was stuck in the order no matter what. But, on the other hand, Iphis had allies everywhere; there was nowhere to hide; he would only leave the Order if Thanatos was gone and Iphis too. Then, Izzar would be free to rule the order, and he was almost sure his young brother would release him from his burdens and send him off to some distant world to live out a life in exile.

There was no escaping his thoughts; the body lying before him was a testament to his future; he would not die peacefully in his old age. He lifted his head in anger; he knew what had to be done; his mother had gone too far this time. Sorath needed to be patient; the time for revenge would come at a later time. For now, he had to focus on strengthening himself and emerge from this bottomless pit of sorrow.

“Mister Ulri.” Sorath knew the stout minor politician was lingering close by.

“I’m here to serve, your majesty.” Although Sorath knew the little man was anticipating an order to raid the Morningstar, he was not planning on gifting the Politician the satisfaction of that sort just yet.

“The empire is still in mourning for their late emperor, right?”

“Yes, your majesty.” He replied quickly.

“When will the state of mourning be lifted?”

“Until your official coronation, your majesty.”

“Tristius will not be taken by the Order; I want him to have a state burial in the palace as my father.  The public does not know who I am or where I come from, so I want him to be buried with full honors.”

“As you wish.” Ulri was unhappy; he was hoping to get the order to arrest the captain of the Morningstar for conspiracy and murder.

“I need to contact the Order with a secured, unmonitored line.” His demand was forced and aggressive; the revelation of the Morningstar’s communications being monitored was alarming. All ships belonging to the order were equipped with the best cloaking devices and signal jamming technologies; no single person or organization could crack their encryptions. Yet here was the Prionesse intelligence listening in on them from the start. Something was not adding up.

 

 

Moments later, Sorath found himself in an isolated spherical room with a single holographic projector in the center. It had been a while since Sorath had spoken to his mother; his hands were sweaty and his brow wet.

“I am glad to hear that your mission was a success.” Iphis was in good spirits, things were going as planned, and soon she would seize complete control of the Order.

“Why did you attack the palace?” Sorath completely ignored his mother’s good cheers. His tone was direct, angry at best; she sensed it and backed off a bit.

“I have heard about the attack. I assure you, I have nothing to do with it. The attack worked perfectly to our advantage, a genius plan I assumed you came up with.” Iphis was sincere.

“You know how much I admired Archon Tristius….” His thoughts stopped him, thinking back on seeing his old mentor lying in the glass coffin.

“Never mind…” He continued. “I have officially been designated as the next emperor of Prion; my mission was a success.”

“You have done well, my son. Remain on Prion and build your connections there. I will contact you when I need you.”

Sorath thought back at what Tristius asked him just before they were attacked. Unsure about the request, he felt driven to try. He looked at Iphis in the hologram, but he looked straight through her.

“Minister Ulri expects me to arrest Captain Rogers; he believes he is linked to both the assassination and attack on the Palace two weeks ago.”

“Perfect.” Her response was surprising. “That will work perfectly to our advantage; he can be branded a rogue assassin, and if he tries to speak about the Order, people will think he has lost his mind.”

He could see the genius in the plan; it would also improve relations with the Prionesse people and instill further trust in him by the government. Moreover, Captain Rogers would not fire upon Sorath if he had to approach the Morningstar; besides, the ship belonged to Sorath and would now become the empire's flagship.

“I will speak to him before you go to the Morningstar to arrest him; he will not resist you.” Iphis was cold; anyone in her employ was mere pawns; he wondered when it would be his turn to be tossed into the ashes of her success. Family meant nothing to her.

“It shall be done as you please.”

“Good.” She brushed the conversation; she had other matters to attend to.

“We still have a few more days of travel before we reach Dessix; the fleet is ready to attack. I anticipate a schism in the Order; I need you to ready the fleets and armies of Prion to stop any sort of insurrection planned. Archon Tristius might have been your biggest Ally, but he was fanatically loyal to Thanatos, and so is the new Archon. I do suspect some sort of resistance when the news of Thanatos’s death reaches him, so I need you and your empire to be prepared.”

“It shall be done; I will await further orders.”

The hologram image disappeared, tears filled his eyes. He knew she was behind the attack; there was no one else involved. Though he despised Captain Rogers, he was a dutiful man and would never give out orders without the consent of his superiors. The man was about to lose everything, forty-two years of selfless duty to a cause he believed in.

He had no choice but to follow through on orders, things were about to change drastically, and he did not want to find himself on the wrong side of the war. There has never been such division, such conflict in the entire existence of the Order of the Ipsimus. Sorath was afraid that the instability might cause the whole house of cards to come tumbling down, leaving Iphis nothing but a ruined galaxy to control.

The thought of failure troubled his mind; his words could not escape his mouth to plea to Iphis to call off her attack. By now, however, the news of her approach to Dessix would have reached Thanatos’s ears, and if she called off the attack, she would lose her life as an example to the rest of the Order. Although fear and intimidation have been the sole methods used by Thanatos in the last decade, the Order was crumbling; he was grasping at anything to hold on to power.

He wiped his tears and turned around; he had to face his obstacles; there was no other way. Outside the room, Ulri was waiting like a vulture, knowing Sorath would speak to the powers that be, and he would get his answer on the arrest of Captain Rogers.

“I will lead the arrest myself,” Sorath said without looking at the little man. “I want only Raven to accompany me.” His demand was final; there was no room for Ulri to give a response. So Sorath kept on walking down the long corridor without acknowledging the politician's requests.