2/10/2048 (military calendar)

Cornot (Capital), Verliance Aristocracy

Dreotan Region, Aldrida, Alagore

 

*****

 

Finally able to leave the dining room, the little-known slave girl named Assiaya quickly entered the kitchen and stopped at the metal door. Closing her eyes, she took the moment to take a deep breath while releasing the built-up of tears. Being the mighty Kallem Verliance, she learned to keep her emotions in check while the family was having dinner, as showing such a thing to one master could have disastrous results. And hearing the son, being out of there, was the only relief she could get, at least just for a moment.

As the slave girl stood by the door, recollecting form, she felt without warning the freezing chill hitting her ear skin because her body was used to the warmth from the dining room. She was wearing a conservative servant dress, with the primary color being dark purple and overlapping shoulder pieces, the rim's colors almost like a rainbow of colors. While purple was a rare color, her master enjoyed ensuring that his servants were well-dressed and mannered, believing it directly reflected on his statues. While she found the dress beautiful and comforting, the fiber did little to retain heat well.

It did not help that the ugly, gray solid stone that made up the kitchen walls only helped contain the cold within the kitchen, unlike traditional kitchens where they were warm. This was a vampire's kitchen. Unlike in a typical kitchen where food was cooked before serving, the sustenance needed for vampires was blood. That meant there was a solid importance for keeping stored blood and blood-rich organs cold to maintain their flavor and longevity.

"What do you need this time, Lat?" the J’avais chief demanded.

Seeing what looked like a giant man, a terror feeling rippled down her body from his tall size compared to her. Being a J'avais, he was twice her size, maybe more.

Assiaya had always hated dealing with this man as he took joy in intimidating her at every opportunity. While he had always treated others disrespectfully, the j'avais always took the extra effort to insult her. It could be because he was stuck in this freezing kitchen all day, but the attacks always felt personal. Always stating her race over her name.

"My master wishes for three more drinks," Assiaya said. "Two Brashes blood and one Nroon blood for him. Oh…, and he asked for his special twist within his drink."

"Stupid twist," the J'avais annoyingly said. "How could you almost forget something as important as that?"

Feeling a sudden shame from the outburst, Assiaya glanced down as she questioned herself. While she had grown used to the hatred toward Lats by most races, it always hurt as she struggled to understand why.

"You must remain strong."

“I know…. It is so hard though.”

She knew that her mental thoughts were correct. Everyone seemed to want to bring her down, but she hoped she would be safe if she did well.

With some grumbling from the j'avais, three drinks were placed before her. The first two were orange blood with a lime-like flavoring added. Her master drink was red blood with a blue tint. She placed the drinks on the tray and headed toward the metal door. As she exited the dining room, she heard the man grumble in his language, which she couldn't understand but figured was another insult.

She was forced to stop momentarily as her body adjusted from the freezing kitchen to the warm dining room. Over in the distance of the massive room was a grand fireplace, consuming the raw wood within its mouth; the actual heat did not come from it. Ventilation throughout the room brought the necessary heat from pipes that ran through the walls.

While Assiaya hated the dark and gray colors of the walls in the kitchen, she had always loved the rich colors and culture of the dining room. While maintaining the stone walls of this palace, different designs are built into them to add life. In addition, they were designed with far more artful taste throughout the room. Banners, paintings, crafts, and more were spread across the walls. The tables had fine cloth, some with the symbol of the Verliance, while others had other types of art.

From her time as Kallem's personal slave, she had learned that he enjoyed acquiring different types of culture. Either from other races, the people he conquered, or from his vassals as tribute. She knew when he defeated her former country, the Confederacy of Daru'uie, that he demanded different types of art as part of his tribute, which she had seen many times scattered throughout his many palaces.

Sometimes, Assiaya would stop what she was doing and stare at all the different types of art. Kallem was a practical man - or so many of his underlings said in gossip. Knowing that she knew her master must have chosen these art pieces for a reason, she wondered what he saw. She wondered if her master enjoyed seeing the different parts of the outside world through these images or if they reminded him of something he lost or the places he had conquered.

For her, being stuck within these walls for half of her short life, she rarely got the opportunity to see the outside world. The only rare moment she gained to see the outside world was when her master wanted to bring her along with his duties. While she had developed many opinions on the many pieces of culture that filled this palace, she wondered if this was how the wider world honestly looked, how people acted among each other when free. The wonders of what communities could do living together with their friends, family, and fellow citizens.

Among the dozens of art pieces throughout the palace she had studied over the years, her favorite was a grassy cliff looking over a valley. A man and boy sat on the edge, staring at Tekali and all the beauty she brought to Alagore. While Assiaya was not a boy, she always dreamed that one day she could sit there and see those same sights as in the painting with her family.

"Just have faith. One day, Tekali will bless your determination."

While Assiaya wished for a long day like in the painting, she understood the voice was a fool.

Noticing that her body had finished adjusting to the dining room temperature, Assiaya headed toward the main dining table. Handcrafted from the finest oak of Aldrida, from which people she did not know. At the table were three vampires. A daughter named Ornnallia, a son named Ere-hian, and her master - the family's patriarch, Kallem Verliance.

As Assiaya approached, she was forced to stop as fear-stricken her still. Seeing that the son had come out of his chair because of another outburst toward his father.

"How could you think like that, father," Ere-hian yelled.

"I am not going to draft them when there is no need to," Kallem calmly replied. He then noticed Assiaya and signed her to serve their drinks.

Seeing the opportunity to deliver their orders, she snuck past the son and reached the table. She slowly placed the blood drinks on the dining table as she was worried about spilling them again, starting with the son's berth drink. Without looking toward the son, she could feel the hatred emitting from him, making her quickly walk over to her master and deliver his red Nroon.

"Why not?" Ere-hian said. "They belong to us now. If we call to arms, we could finally bring death to those Noble Elves once and for all and gain respect among the Unity members."

After finishing handing out the drinks, Assiaya stepped back against the wall as she was trained to do and waited to be called upon. Assiaya watched as Kallem ignored his son's questions and lifted his drink, bringing it to his nose. Her master stopped and took a slow and long smell of the aura from the blue addition within the glass.

"Are you going to answer me?" Ere-hian said.

"Stop whining," Ornnallia calmly replied.

Ere-hian leaned against the table, glaring at his sister. He then turned back to his father. "We are missing the greatest moment of our lives, father. Sitting here and doing nothing while the Unity claims all the glory."

Kallem Verliance took a slow drink, enjoying the taste before setting his glass down. "Son. Only the fools rush to war when they do not need to."

"Father?" Ere-hian said with a baffled look. "If we wait, our chance will be gone forever. The Unity might see our passiveness as a weakness. Either we summon our armies and take out our enemies once and for all or be seen as cowards."

"Passiveness is only a weakness if you allow it to be my son," Kallem said. "I have accomplished what was needed for our people to thrive in this new future the Unity is promising us. It would be wise, my son, not to throw it all away because of overstretching with the sole reason to impress others. Blindly going into war to please others does not earn glory, respect, or loyalty to oneself, especially if you offer yourself so cheaply."

"I am no whore, father," Ere-hian stated. " There is no glory in waiting. There is no way to gain glory and respect by allowing others to fight for you. The Unity was clear: all who do not assist will be left behind."

"Unless they are forgiven. I also read the Kardra, son."

"I hate agreeing with my brother, but he is correct father," Ornnallia said. "That emissary is always preaching that you need to do more."

Assiaya watched as she had grown used to these kinds of intense arguments. Kallem had always required his children to eat together, to their annoyance. Family dinners usually follow a similar path. The son wanted to prove himself to the Unity, seeing them as a great power that would solve their problems and bring great fortune. The father, though, has been far more reserved on the matter. Always calm his son. The daughter mostly sat quietly during these meals, minding herself.

Noticing the sudden silence, she looked toward Kallem and saw him staring at Assiaya. Feeling suddenly afraid and ashamed, she glanced down as she was too scared to meet the son's gaze.

"Am I the ruler of these lands or the Unity?" Kallem calmly asked his son.

"Maybe you shouldn't be, Father," Ere-hian boldly said, staring directly at his father's gaze. "The world is changing, and your ways no longer matter. We must-."

Kallam waved his hand as he ignored his son's outbursts. "If you wish to challenge me, then do so. If not, leave this table now."

Feeling the tension rise within the room, Assiaya gazed up and saw the two staring at each other. It looked like they were having a contest to see who would blink first, one of the few childhood games she remembered of her old life. For a moment, she thought Ere-hian was about to challenge his father for the throne, which terrified her if he ever became ruler, as she knew she would be his first victim.

However, Ere-hian looked at the table with frustration, showing he would not challenge his father's will. Looking for an outlet for his anger, he knocked his drink that Assiaya delivered to them onto the floor. The glass nearly hit Assiaya as some drink's blood spilled on her uniform.

Ere-hian stopped and stared at Assiaya with deep-seated hatred in his red eyes. Based on the son's eyes, he intently aimed for her. He looked toward his father and back at her.

“Ere-hian,” Kallem said.

"She is a slave," Ere-hian said. "I do not understand why you value this barely of a Lat over the others."

Before Kallem could respond, Ere-hian marched out of the room.

Assiaya watched as her master touched his chin, taking a frustrating breath. She then watched him look over to her.

"What are you waiting for?"

Realizing that her master was referring to her, she grabbed a wet towel and cleaned the blood off the floor and wall.

"Why is he always being this dramatic?" Ornnallia asked.

"He is young and eager," Kallem replied. "As he said, he does not want to be left behind in the most eventful time in world history. It is not in a young boy's nature to pass on the creation of his own story, and this is probably the most eventful time for at least another hundred years."

"Then let him go," Ornnallia said. "If he wants to rush off and have a story, who cares? It would be no stain to you. If he fails, that is on him. If he succeeds, it will reflect positively on you."

As Assiaya cleaned, she realized her master didn't quickly respond to his daughter's question. She looked up and saw him staring at his half-Nroon blood drink.

"Not all stories of oneself meet the caliber of one's true self," Kallem said.

As Assiaya cleared the floor, she heard steel boots impacting the stone floor. She saw a male vampire, a General based on the uniform. This was a strange sight for her as Kallam ensured that all business was prohibited in this room during family time. They would only interrupt the family meal if it were vital for the Aristocracy.

"My lord, I have news from the occupied territories."

"It never stops," Kallem commented. "Speak now."

"I have a message from Toriffa."

Toriffa, a name Assiaya has heard many times. Before being taken from her home, Toriffa was once a major city within the old confederacy. While she doesn't know much about them, she has heard comments from Kallem regarding how Toriffa was essential for maintaining his rule over Nevali Region.

After gaining a new wet towel to finish cleaning the mess, Assiaya returned to cleaning the floor. However, she couldn't help herself but stare at the General. Two more soldiers entered the dining room, dragging a Neko male.

"Tell him what you told me,” The general demanded.

The Neko glanced around with a terrified look. Probably realized that he was in the beast den with no way to escape from these blood-sucking people. A sight she had seen many times while in her service. "My…, my..., lord instructed me to come to you, your Highness."

"Skip the nonsense and get to the point," Kallem ordered.

"Hispana has taken root within your lands," the Neko said.

“Scouts,” Kallem said. "How is this unusual during a war?"

The Neko looked around as his body was shocked. "I do not know. I was told to inform you that a Templar was spotted among the other City-States, trying to recruit them for a rebellion. Something about a new age beginning and that we would regain our freedom."

Standing with a blood-soaked towel, Assiaya was confused by the meaning of the words the Neko said. She looked toward her master and saw a concerned look. Knowing when not to press, she backed away to toss the towel.

Once Assiaya headed toward the door, she reflected on the meaning of the words. The more she thought, the more she realized that the Coalition might be trying to free the people of Daru'uie from the Verliance Aristocracy and Unity grip. The Templar part seemed to concern her master to the most significant degree, which meant maybe this could happen. If they were successful, then she would regain her freedom. Finally, she can be taken away from this place and rejoin her people.

"I told you to have faith."

"Thank you for this knowledge," Kallem said. "General, reward this young man and prepare gifts for Toriffa loyalty. Then, prepare a recon force to investigate the situation. Mobilize a Battle Group from the nearest Order in the region; once we get their report, I want to be ready to leave quickly."

Hearing that order, the reality of being free slipped away. Whatever those Hispana soldiers were planning, Kallem would stop them with brute force, especially now that he knew about them. The dream of seeing the cliffside slowly faded as she heard her name again, reminding her that her place was only to serve.

"Our hope went away. You were right; everything is hopeless.

Exiting the dining room while carrying three blood-soaked towels, she stopped after noticing the opened window. She stopped and looked out the glass window. Gazing out at the nearby lake. It was one of the darker nights compared to the lighter nights that usually shine on Alagore, so she could see the reflection of the moon Virmina. The sight was beautiful, enjoying the natural beauty of the world.

"If Tekai still believes, then I shall. She wouldn't let the world fall to ruins. I believe something good must follow."

Then she noticed a star that was unusually bright that night. She couldn't understand but felt a strong urge to look out. That was before she heard her name being called.

 

2/15/2048 (military calendar)

CIA-operated Spaceship

Lunar-Mars Trajectory

 

*****

 

Feeling the boredom from the long journey between Mars and Luna, Captain Mathew Ryder had been finding any minuscule task to stimulate himself. He had no idea how the first generation of pioneers could make the nine-month journey and stay this sane. It was proof people do what needs to be done when they must, regardless of the situation and how hard it might be. To them, that was the time to get to Mars, but now, knowing the trip was far shorter, he struggled to understand how it was possible.

Gazing out the window, Ryder noticed a distant star that suddenly flickered brightly, or so his senses thought. For some reason, he felt the urge to stare, developing a strange feeling as he wondered what could be out there—only seeing the shining dots of faraway stars. He couldn't help but wonder what the future or past laid out there, believing something more had to be out there.

Hearing a strange sound broke his trance. After shaking his head and returning to reality, he realized his name was coming through the ship's intercom, which made him wonder how long he had been staring at the window. Hearing his name again, he recalled the CIA commander requesting his presence.

Grabbing a railing, Ryder pushed himself toward the center ladder passageway. After opening the hatch, he headed toward the front of the spaceship. While on the way, he passed one of his Comanche warriors and another CIA operative within the ladder system, talking about football.

When Ryder entered the Bridge, he suddenly felt the same level of boredom from the bridge crew. While they were all professionals in their craft, he could imagine how much free time they had on a job like this. This made him wonder if this was like traveling across the Atlantic and Pacific during the Age of Sails.

After closing the airlock, Ryder pushed himself toward the commander's chair. "Sir, reporting as ordered."

"Captain Ryder," Nelson said as he looked at his screen. "I wanted to inform you that we have begun our final trajectory to Freedom space station. I want your team to be prepared going forward. If anyone is going to make a move, this will be their last chance."

"I understand," Ryder said. "Is there anything of note? It has been a while since we have seen any other spacecraft."

"On this route, most starships are on the final stages to Mars or Luna. Only late journeys who are not as worried about a tight schedule or mining ships." Nelson adjusted himself in his chair. "Navigation, an update on nearby contacts?"

"The Indian support ship passed out of the effective communication range four hours ago. Sensors now only show five ships. One is heading toward Earth while the other two are heading away."

"Any in range?"

"Negative. The one heading away is heading to either Tiangong-4 or Mir-2. Data shows they most likely come from a mining mission from the Apollo local group."

"The others?"

"Three are American. One is setting up a mining base on an asteroid. Another is about to exit the sensor range, and the other is on a wide berth heading to Mars. The other is a French cargo ship, also heading to Mars. They are the closest."

"Interesting," Nelson commented.

"How come?" Ryder asked, trying to understand what was wrong with the report. Noticing that the commander did not respond, he realized the man wanted him to answer the question. He then remembered what happened to other ships that were raided. "You believe they could be faking their IFF?"

"Correct. We know little about how the enemy conducts, so be ready. Now, dismiss."

"Sir."

Ryder acknowledged the order and left the Bridge.

 

*****

 

Looking toward the forward glass windows of the bridge, Commander Nelson could only begin to see the blue tint color of the Earth.

Hours after updating the Comanche Captain, he found the time uneventful. Watching his crew perform their tasks, there was little to do until they got closer to Earth.

"Alright, contact me when we get closer to those other starships," Nelson said. "And just remember, fly casual. We are a civilian ship, after all."

"Why do you always ask me to fly casually?" Smith asked. "Is there a different way to fly?"

"Why do you always get worked up when he says that?" Tory commented. "It is a 1970s reference to some movie."

Hearing the bickering between the two, Nelson felt the urge to leave before it got out of hand. He stood from his chair and started heading toward the side hatch which led to his quarters.

"Commander."

Hearing from his navigator, Tory, he stopped and looked. "What is it?"

"I am detecting a small energy signature in front of us," Tory said.

Feeling confused, he floated to her station and analyzed the screen. He saw the signature, but the computer could barely register it. "Could be a radioactive micro asteroid. Are there any other ships in the area?"

"Negative," Tory replied. "The closest ship is still a day away at current speed. Everything else is micro-asteroids, and I don't think it is radioactive."

"Don't give me that," Nelson said. "Stealth fighters' radar signatures are the size of a fly on Earth."

He realized how much of a fool he had been as he spoke. While there are many Great Powers in the modern age, the United States was still the military juggernaut it had been since the Second World War. Being on top for that long could sometimes blind one to the obvious.

"Sir!" Smith said.

Turning to the flight control terminal, Nelson saw what concerned the pilot.

Outside the window, everyone could see a strange-looking black van-sized object in front of them. Making everyone on the bridge wonder what they were about to ram.

"Evade!" Nelson ordered.

By the time he was able to give the order, the strange object opened its sides. Tory started stating that she was reading a sudden build of energy levels, enough to scare her.

While Tory reported that the van-size object was building energy, suddenly, the lights started flickering, and all the station terminals went out. The lights flicked off, and the red emergency lights activated, providing a dime red glow throughout the bridge.

"What just happened?" Nelson asked.

"Everything is dead," Smith said. "I have no control over the spaceship."

"What hit us?"

"Some type of electromagnetic pulse?" Tory replied. "A powerful one."

"Damn," Nelson said. "That is how they have been doing it. EMP mines."

"Sir! Missile."

Hearing Smith, Nelson looked toward the direction the pilot was. He saw a missile fired from nothingness. Almost as if the weapon appeared out of thin air.

From his emotional side, he was relieved that the missile was heading in the other direction. Close to the same path as they were to Space Station Freedom. The rational side told a different story. With twenty years of experience, he knew this was only the beginning.

While their sensors were down, he already knew what the missile was for—sending a fake signal to trick Luna Traffic Control that they were still on course. They could raid ships without alerting anyone until it was too late.

Noticing movement from the general direction of the missile launch, a dark object slowly moved within the void of space. Almost as if it was a shark stocking its helpless prey. The sight was terrifying, and Nelson realized they could do nothing to stop them. The stealthy enemy spacecraft moved above them. It fired four cables attached to their hull, forcing them to slow down.

Nelson next witnessed the enemy spaceship hatch open with a dozen or more soldiers storming out - all landing on their hull. Four men swung themselves to the front of the bridge window and placed an explosive device on the hull.

Based on the technology and speed of these attackers, Nelson knew these soldiers were special forces. And from how quickly and efficiently they were operating, it was clear that they had done this before. These couldn't be privateers sponsored by a government just to annoy the US and the other Artimus Accord members. This was a covert military operation to the core. The only conclusion the commander could make was that they knew about the package from Mars.

"Everyone, off the bridge-."

Before the commander could finish his sentence, the bomb exploded, creating a small hole, which was just large enough to suck all the air out of the Bridge, suffocating everyone.