CHAPTER 13
Daaneen was a thriving world close to the heart of the Empire. It was once part of a proud and ancient protectorate that could trace its history back before the rise of the Amengalish. In that far away time the area was known as the Harvarian Protectorate, named for the sentients who founded it. Now, it was known as the Harvarian sector, simply a small part of the Empire. Still, many still referred to it as the Protectorate
The Harvarian were humanoid in appearance, and quite tall. They were as diverse as any sentient species, being any number of hues, shapes, and sizes. Their dominant features were long lean eyes, small mouths, and oblong heads. Their entire bodies were covered with a downy fur, a recessive trait they retained from the climate on their birthworld of Havari.
During the reformation of the Empire they acknowledged the Zradgen as their new lords, but not their masters. This suited the Zradgen, for they wanted nothing more of war, and sought peace. The Harvarian rediscovered their old ways and settled into a life of enlightenment.
All became pawns of prophecy, beholden to the ravings of a sorcerer sentient, a sentient many considered to be mad. However, his ravings were infectious, and moved the minds of the multitude. Thousands were swayed. The Empire made ready for war. Power was consolidated, engines of destruction were awakened, and billions of sentients of various species under Zradgen rule began to feel the bite of their master’s teeth, as all were girded for conquest.
They did what they could, spreading the light of reason to every corner of the Empire, while at the same time doing the Emperor’s bidding. They became an entire species dedicated to the task of ending the war of conquest. They met in secret. They made alliances, and in their travails they came across a secret even larger then their own.
There was a Fifth Column.
On the outer fringes of the Daaneen system hyperspace exits points opened, first one, then two, quickly followed by several. Imperial Cruisers emerged from the gates into normal space. The lead cruiser reconnoitered the area, and then transmitted a coded signal into hyperspace. Suddenly, several more exit points opened, and the Fleet of the Imperial Guard emerged.
The fleet came to a stop just outside the orbit of the twelfth and outermost planet in the system, a small rock called Harfi. The planet was the system’s defensive outpost, and primary checkpoint for gaining entry to the inner worlds. It was armed with heavy plasma cannons, enough firepower to destroy a fleet of capital ships, if said ships were caught unawares with their shields down.
“Communications protocol and security parameters have been established,” said the Khallad’s comman. “The Planetary Director of Harfi sends his personal greeting to the Imperial Guard, and the Emperor, and welcomes us to the Daaneen system.”
“Put him onscreen,” said Vardakos, the ship’s commander. The director’s image appeared on the bridge’s main screen.
“The Emperor’s Own honors us with this visit,” said the Harvarian. “How may we be of service?” Vardakos simply stared at him, saying nothing.
“Commander?”
“Stand by for the Emperor,” said Vardakos.
“Standing by,” said a suddenly nervous director.
Vardakos left the channel to the director open, and turned to a small holoscreen floating at his side. “Your Highness, we have the outpost director onscreen.” The Emperor was in the Khallad’s throne room, seated on his throne.
“Shall I put him through?” Asked the Commander.
The Emperor laughed. “Whatever for Vardakos? Deliver my judgment immediately.”
“Understood your Highness.”
Vardakos had intentionally left the other line open, so the director could hear. Fear immediately took hold of him. “Judgment? What judgment? Commander?”
“Outpost Harfi targeted sir,” said the ship’s weaponsman.
“Excellent, weaponsman. Destroy Harfi.”
“They are raising base shields and arming plasma cannon,” said the senseman.
“It does not matter,” said Vardakos. “They have no idea what we’ve brought with us. Nothing they have will be enough.”
The Commander turned to the holoscreen “Harfi destroyed, Your Highness.” “Now, send the first signal. And we shall watch the dirt-eaters scurry.”
“Yes, Your Highness. Comman, send the signal H1-Prime.” The comman entered a command into his console, and a wideband signal was dispersed through hyperspace.
“Message sent sir,” said the comman.
“Your Highness, the message has been sent.”
The Emperor smiled. “Excellent.”
In the throne room the Emperor turned his attention from one holoscreen to the next, observing tactical communication feeds from throughout the Empire. “Commander, I am now going into full immersion.”
“Understood, your Highness.”
Kdifoc sat on the throne, a smile spread across his face. He was relishing this moment, and wanted to experience some of the results firsthand. He leaned his head back, as interface nodes extended from his chair. They touched the back of his head and began to glow a light blue. Suddenly, the Emperor was many places at once.
“Your Highness,” said the Commander, bowing his head.
“Commander, disposition of the system?”
“Large amounts of comm traffic, shipping routes have adjusted, moving to the far side of the system for hyperspace transition. Our cordon has cataloged all merchant traffic. We have targeted every ship for destruction, if they do not submit to a full sensor scan. Civilian traffic has remained minimal, media services are flooded with reports concerning the destruction of Harfi. However, no trans-system signals are coming in, or going out. We are jamming all hyperspatial communications."
“Military status.”
“Strangely silent.”
The part of the Emperor’s mind that was standing on the command bridge imagined the Harvarian and their compatriots, arrayed around a table in their situation room, trying to figure out how this had happened. How was it the Emperor came to be on their doorstep, with the might of the Guard Fleet at hand. They had to know their destruction was imminent.
“Filter the incoming hyperspace comm traffic Commander, just as we planned.”
“Comman,” said the Commander. “Filter protocol. Harvarian Column traffic.”
“Yes sir,” said the comman.
Back on the Imperial Throneworld of Zkrdah, a holographic avatar of the Emperor appeared just outside the quarters of the Harvarian representative to the Klaksory. The Harvarian were a powerful force in the Empire. The opulence of the residence, which revealed how the Harvarian revered beauty, was evidence of their power as a species. The revelation of their deceit was a severe blow to the Emperor’s pride. He took it personally. However, upon reflection he was absolutely amazed at their astounding collective deviousness as a species. For generations they had successfully executed a delicate balance between loyalty and treachery, maintaining perception, and wielding power for, and against him. At one time, the Emperor believed the Harvarian to be above reproach.
“Honorable Klaksor Ahmbien,” said the Emporeror, formally addressing the Harvarian. “Hereditary representative of the Havarian sector to the Imperial Klaksory of the Zradgen Galactic Empire. If it pleases you, I salute you.”
“You appear shocked, esteemed Klaksor. Have you nothing to say?”
“I have plenty to say, Emperor, but I will not waste my words on you. What you and your kind have done to this galaxy is an abomination. You will pay for your sins.”
“You may find it amusing now, Kdifoc. However, I assure you, in time the humor will fade.”
“The destruction of Harfi will not stop us.”
“Plans within plans, Klaksor. I have seen into yours. You cannot say the same.”
“We know about The Rite of Atmos. We also know that old crackpot wizard will never succeed. The Rite is lost to the ages. You will never become a god Kdifoc. You are destined for dust.
http://blog.dsbrownwrites.com/2010/03/20/champion-the-havarian-genocide.aspx
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