The planet Jeran was the United Empire’s capitol world for five hundred years. The ravages of a brief but destructive interregnum scarred much of the planet’s surface, leaving a cruel, indelible mark on its population’s psyche.

     Jeran was chosen by the provisional council to be the capitol of a new empire. And that, more than a revitalized economy, more than the return of its status as a commercial, cultural and intellectual center, had lifted the morale of its inhabitants.

     The official admiral’s capsule landed in a VIP port in Jeran’s largest city, Phadras. Alec emerged from the capsule, surrounded by his heavily armed protective detail. He took a moment to survey the skyline. A number of buildings were marred by war damage. In places he spotted rubble mounds high as mountains. Sobering sights offset by a much larger number of new structures being built.

     Phadras was a city undergoing reconstruction. A city destined to be greater than what it was... a microcosm of an empire. Alec brimmed with optimism and moved on. Business awaited.

****

     Alec walked confidently into the Hall of Giants, where the four hundred member Provisional Council was housed. Council members sat in ascending rows facing a translucent podium bathed in a spotlight. Alec approached the podium.

     The council members stood to their feet and broke into applause. When the applause faded, the representatives sat. Council speaker T’kerit Ja remained standing.  He was Limderian. His rodent like face was mammalian in appearance, but tiny scales covering his body from head to toe suggested a reptilian origin.

     The Limderian extended his long arms toward Alec. “Admiral Dishman, we are ever so grateful to you for resurrecting the Empire. As a supreme token of our gratitude and appreciation…”

     A council aide walked briskly to the podium bearing a small, glossy black case. The aide opened the case, revealing a silver, gem-encrusted starburst. He offered it to Alec.

     “You will become the first recipient of the of the New United Empire’s highest honor,” T’kerit Ja continued. “The Supreme Medal of Valor.” Alec barely glanced at the medal. The aide looked to T’kerit Ja in confusion as murmurs arose among the council members. T’kerit Ja lowered his arms. “Admiral?”

     “I didn’t travel halfway across the galaxy for a medal.” Alec snatched the case from the aide’s hand, ripped the medal out and tossed it into the aisle. “I can make my own and award myself. I came here as a courtesy to you. I came here so that you can make it official.” Mortified silence blanketed the Hall.

     “You see far as I’m concerned, I’m already the Proctor. All you have to do is offer me your support.”

     It took a moment for the Council Speaker to find his voice. “Admiral, there are those suited to fighting and those suited to governing. You have done your part. You have done it exceptionally well. But..., we have decided the interests of the New UE would be best served if you were to step aside. We have already chosen a candidate for Proctor. That candidate is not you.”

     Alec’s gaze swept the Hall. He could smell the tension. It was so thick, it sweltered like tropical humidity. He brought his hands together, presenting a gracious smile to a tightly wound audience.

     “I disagree with the direction you’ve taken, but I accept it for the good of all.” Alec shrugged nonchalantly. “Who knows, one day I may see the wisdom in your decision.”

     The admiral walked away from the podium and exited the Hall as the representatives looked on in collective relief.

****

     When Alec returned to the port to board his capsule, a deafening thunderclap shook the air. Everyone except the admiral pivoted to the noise’s source. An ash gray mushroom cloud boiled heavenward from an obliterated ground zero where the Hall of Giants stood but seconds ago.

     Alec turned to the commander of his protective detail. “This is simply awful. Terrorists must have detonated an explosive inside the Hall. Thank goodness I got out of there.”

     The detail commander played along. “Just in the nick of time, sir. You may need to declare martial law until the vile perpetrators of this atrocity are tracked down and brought to justice.”

     Alec rubbed his chin in a show of thought. “Unfortunately you may be right.” He stepped aboard his capsule flush with a sense of accomplishment.

****

     Reprisals were swift and merciless. Anyone remotely suspected of involvement in the ‘terrorist’ attack that wiped out the Provisional Council was made to disappear by members of Alec’s Special Intelligence and Security Division.

     The Council’s horrific demise alerted a nervous public to the existence of internal enemies whose goal was to destabilize the New UE. Alec promised he would not allow those enemies to prevail. He promised to crush this internal threat as ruthlessly and decisively as he crushed the empire’s external foes.

     Fueled by the destruction of the Provisional Council, Alec declared himself Proctor and a grateful galaxy approved. Millions of terrorist supporters and subversives died in execution chambers or languished on prison planets. A grateful galaxy clamored for more executions, more imprisonments. Entire cities were purged from existence to quell protests at the Proctor’s excesses and a galaxy paused. Was the person who liberated thousands of worlds from anarchy and barbarism becoming a monster?

     The Proctor never noticed the burgeoning doubts, the slackening of his support. Delusion blinded him.

****

     From a hidden location within the Proctor’s Palace Fara’s dispassionate voice emulation said, “Go.” (She) linked into A14’s POV and watched the avatar slip into the Proctor’s bedroom. There, maintaining its usual holding pattern next to the bed floated the cause of Alec’s transformation from compassionate idealist to blood thirsty tyrant.

     Fara regretted (her) inability to unravel the hexagon’s mystery. Under less volatile circumstances (she) would have devoted (her) considerable lifetime to its study.

     A14 produced a vitex charge from a small black pouch and placed it on the floor beneath the hexagon. The avatar set the charge’s timer and made a swift exit. Ten seconds later, a blast tore through the bedroom…

****

    Alec rushed back to Jeran the very second he received news of an explosion in his palace. A toxic sense of dread bordering on panic smothered him in an arctic grip. Images of the hexagon flashed in his mind. Was it damaged? Destroyed?

****

     Alec ignored his Special Intelligence and Security Divison Chief who tried to head him off at the palace entrance with a report. The Proctor had no time to listen to reports. He needed to see for himself!

     Protective detail soldiers struggled to keep pace with their fast walking Proctor as they marched through the palace’s spanning corridors. They finally reached the blast-gutted bedroom. The room was charred black and choked with a cloying burnt effluvium. Everything inside was reduced to splinters and ash. Everything except…

     Alec’s eyes brightened with joy. The hexagon was still intact, still bathed in a rich golden luminance. He rushed to the object, running frantic hands over its unblemished surface.

     “I’ll access the recorders for this section,” said his curious detail commander. “They’ll show us who entered this room.”

     “You won’t find anything,” Alec said with certainty.  “The recorders are disabled.”

     The commander frowned. “Respectfully, Proctor, how do you know this?”

     “Trust me, I know. And I know who’s responsible for this blast.” The Proctor pulled his eyes away from the hexagon. The soldiers in the room were fixated on the strange object, but no one dared ask what it was.  If the Proctor wanted them to know he would have told them.

     “Bring me Fara.”

****

     Three hours later, a combined force of the Proctor’s Personal Guard, Infantry troopers, and special forces units combed the palace grounds and beyond, tracking a half dozen traitorous avatars.

     Alec personally participated in the search. He witnessed the destruction of three avatars in a bloody shoot out. Fifteen Guards and twelve troopers died. Two more avatars were cut down at the edge of the property by drone fired heat beams. But not before they killed ten of their pursuers, crippled an armored carrier and downed three drones with portable rocket launchers.

     Despite his anger at their betrayal, Alec could not help but to harbor a fierce pride in his former avatars’ prowess. Though he tried to maintain a distance, their ‘deaths’ pained him more than he cared to admit.

****

     The avatars were laid out on the ground, mostly in pieces. Alec inspected the remains, as his Guard soldiers stood vigilant watch in the background. Five bodies. Fara was missing. That didn’t surprise Alec. (She) was the most dangerous and resourceful of his avatars.

     “It didn’t work, Fara. You tried to destroy the hexagon and failed. It chose me for this sacred enterprise. Me. What makes you think you can thwart destiny?”

     “Sir?”

     Alec flinched, forgetting his detail commander was near enough to hear thoughts unintentionally voiced aloud. Alec gathered himself, ignoring the commander’s inquisitive gaze. “One more avatar is loose. I want her…it…found and dealt with. NOW!”

     “Right away, Proctor.” The commander whirled and belted out orders, scattering his soldiers like startled birds.

To be concluded....

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