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.

The Protectorate was comprised of twenty star systems. The Harvarian species were the only sentients to occupy these systems at the time. They were a strong and proud people. When the Amengalish onslaught crashed through their stellar borders they fought fiercely, earning the respect of their enemy, just before falling to the mighty war machine. Their bravery earned them an honored place among their conquerors. During the Great War they remained loyal, until the rise of the Zradgen. Having fought side-by-side with the Zradgen against the Majestic Rebellion, when the winds of war changed they knew enough to stand aside, and observe as the Zradgen brought genocide down upon the Amengalish.

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.

Time passed, and the Empire changed.

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.

The Harvarian had remained strong during the time of peace. They remained completely loyal until the day the Emperor believed the ravings of a sorcerer. From that time until the present day they have continued to serve, appearing loyal, but secretly fomenting the fires of rebellion. They could not outright separate themselves from the Zradgen. Their homeworlds were surrounded by the Empire.

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.

Not all Zradgen believed in the Emperor. Not all Zradgen followed the Klaksory. Not all Zradgen burned through and through for war, and the divine rite to wade in the blood of sentients. Not all Zradgen yearned to evoke the memory of the long dead Amengalish. They considered themselves to be True Zradgen, and they remained loyal to the Empire of old.

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 Imperial Guard Fleet, also known as the Emperor’s Own, was maintained apart from the vast Zradgen war fleet. The Guard fleet was comprised of thirty of the most powerful vessels in the Majestic, able to lay waste to entire star systems. Emperor Kdifoc’s personal cruiser was named the Kallhad. It was a capital ship of immense size, bristling with weapons, enfolded in heavy armor plating, and protected by powerful energy shields.

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.

On the bridge of the Khallad, none were unaware; all were prepared. The Emperor’s Own did not fear plasma cannon, and recognized no checkpoint.

“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.”

The director looked incredulous. “What?” Behind him the room was full of activity. Sentients were moving about at a mad pace. The director’s demeanor changed. He sneered at Vardakos, and then cut the signal.

“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 Imperial vessel Kallhad armed its weapons array. Two long tusks, specialized weapons masts, were extended from holds in the fore of the vessel. They glowed with tremendous amounts of deadly energy. Suddenly, luminous spheres of plasma shot from each mast. The plasma rounds struck Harfi in succession, one after another. The planet shuddered, plumes of heat, soil, and rock rose from the surface. Cracks formed. A fleet of small vessels tried to flee the outpost. They were doomed. The planet exploded.

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.”

The throne room of the Khallad was a study in austere opulence. It was at the heart of the ship, but the walls were lined with holopanels, able to display whatever view the Emperor deemed fit. There were also large columns of pure ascerium lining the aisle in the center of the room. The columns formed a path to the throne. The Emperor’s attendants were situated at stations and sitting areas throughout. Members of the Imperial Guard stood in the shadows, ever vigilant.

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.

On the bridge of Khallad a very real looking Emperor Kdifoc appeared just to the left of Commander Vardakos’s chair.

“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 Emperor smiled. “Not so strange, Commander. They know they have been discovered. At this moment, they are discussing survival.”

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.

Another part of the Emperor’s mind listened to what transpired on the bridge, and applauded his cunning. He would allow the Harvarians to know the fear of genocide before this day was done.

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.

The avatar Emperor walked through the front door of hereditary Klaksor Ahmbien. The Klaksor was sitting at a viewer, looking over incoming reports. He appeared nervous. The Emperor stood silent, watching. After a few moments, the Klaksor noticed the Emperor. He turned to face him.

“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.”

The Emperor bowed. The Harvarian’s eyes bulged out in complete astonishment. The Emperor bowed to no one.

“You appear shocked, esteemed Klaksor. Have you nothing to say?”

Klaksor Ahmbien seemed to find his nerve. He held his head high, and looked directly at the Emperor.

“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.”

Kdifoc laughed. “Pay for my sins? Pay for my sins you say? Amusing. You will never know how much you amuse me Klaksor Ahmbien. Yes, amusing indeed.”

“You may find it amusing now, Kdifoc. However, I assure you, in time the humor will fade.”

Kdifoc shrugged. “Perhaps. However, it will not be by you and yours.”

“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.”

The Emperor hid his shock. Again, the Harvarian had surprised him. “You know nothing, Harvarian.”

“I know a great deal, Zradgen. We are many.”

“Soon to be only a handful.”

The Klaksor paused, considering the Emperor’s words.

“You stand silent. Allow me to show you something.”

Next to the avatar of the Emperor a holographic battery of screens appeared. On each was an image of horror. Havarian were being slaughtered throughout the Empire. Prominent sentients were assassinated, families murdered, whole communities annihilated. Some, strangely enough, just seemed to drop dead.

“I have been planning this for some time,” said Kdifoc, as an evil smile spread across his face. “Since I first learned of your treachery I have been cultivating an appropriate response. I believe nothing less than total genocide to be your just reward. Today, Klaksor your kind is being rewarded quite handsomely.”

The Klaksor stumbled backward, grabbing his chest. The color faded from his face as he watched genocide unfold.

“I decided to execute on several fronts, pardon the pun,” said Kdifoc. “This is nothing like the Amengalish genocide. Then, my ancestors blasted entire worlds into atoms. Now do not misunderstand me. Daaneen will suffer a similar fate. However, throughout the Empire I am having your people put to the sword, butchered, atomized, blasted from orbit, and most effectively killed by genetic weapon.” He paused to take in Klaksor Ahmbien’s reaction. “You’re not looking so well Ahmbien. Something wrong?”

“You can’t,” said the Klaksor. “You can’t do this.”

“It is done.”

“It is barbaric!”

“Barbarism simply depends upon your point of view. I am excising a treacherous cancer from my Empire.”

Ahmbien winced. “I thought I understood you, could gauge you, could …”

“You thought you could stop me.”

The Klaksor covered his chest with both his hands, as he fell to his knees. He looked up at the avatar questioningly.

“Yes, Ahmbien. It is the genetic weapon. You are about to die very, very soon.”

The Klaksor looked indignant. “We will not fade.”

“Perhaps not,” said the Emperor. “I cannot reach out to you all. Harvarian have ranged the Majestic far and wide. However, in my domain all that shall remain of you shall be slaves, zoo exhibits of a race destined for oblivion.”

“We will not fade.”

“Go, Klaksor. You have breathed your last. And as you past into dimensions beyond, carry with you the images of your race dying, and know that I have done this to you. I, Emperor Kdifoc The Third, Prophesied ruler of the Universe, and the Hand Above God. Pray you do not know my touch in the hereafter.”

There were tears in the Klaksor’s eyes as he fell to his hands. With his last, he spat at the Emperor. It flew through the avatar harmlessly. The Klaksor fell to the floor dead. His vacant eyes stared up at the instrument of his species’ destruction.

“And so ends the twilight of the Harvarian,” said the Emperor. “The dark doom is all that awaits.”

The avatar and the holographic bank of screens vanished. In the hereditary quarters of the Honorable Klasor Ahmbien, last Harvarian to sit on the Klaksory, all was quiet, save for the soft hum of the ancient viewer against the wall, displaying incoming reports from trusted sources, tallying the long line of dying allies as they marched into shadow.

The avatar on the Emperor on the bridge of the Khallad suddenly came alive. It exhibited a higher level of activity as the Emperor consolidated the majority of his awareness locally. Part of him still rode the communication links through hyperspace to far flung parts of his Empire, watching genocide with a cold calculating telepresent eye.

“Commander Vardakos, situation status.”

“Your Highness, Prince Krakoth is still in hyperspace, awaiting your command. We are running silent and answering no hails. The cordon is holding. We have destroyed every vessel attempting to leave the Daaneen System. Daana Command was bombarding the fleet with queries. However, that has ceased since they’ve started receiving the signals we’re allowing through from throughout the Empire.

“They are starting to understand the magnitude of what is occurring.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“And the military?”

“Only one signal. Once Daana Command stopped transmitting to us, they began to beam a narrow signal to a heavily shielded area on the other side of the system. It is a blank area in space, impervious to our most powerful sensors.”

“Have you intercepted the signal?

“Yes, Your Highness. However, it is heavily encrypted. We are running it through our appropriated Column ciphers now. We should have a translation shortly.”

Kdifoc laughed. “Crafty dead. Dismiss it Commander we will not be able to translate the message. Besides, I know exactly what they are doing. The Harvarian have developed new warships with the help of the Narellen. A rebel fleet. A Fifth Column fleet.”

“New warships!?!?” The Commander controlled his shock. “Your Highness?”

“Did you truly think I would have taken this action, would have considered them a threat without proper provocation?”

“I do not question your will, Highness.”

“As well you should not. But that does not preclude you from considering the possibilities Commander.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“There is a reason you Command the Khallad, and the Emperor’s Own.”

“Strength, vision, fortitude, intelligence, the ability to execute, Your Highness.”

“No ambition?”

“None but which you provide.”

“Very good, Commander. It is time to proceed to the next phase. Open Imperial Channel One.”

“At once, Your Highness. Comman, open Imperial Channel One!”

“Imperial Channel One open,” said the Comman.

“Imperial Channel open, Your Highness. You may proceed.”

“Thank you, Commander Vardakos,” said the Emperor. “Your diligence, and enthusiasm are noted.”

Vardakos bowed towards the avatar. “Highness.”

The Imperial Channel blended with a logic interface mating the external signal to the Emperor’s virtual reality. Though he was actually sitting on his throne in the heart of the Khallad, in a virtual star system construct of his own creation he was stupendous in size, standing in the midst of the orbital paths of the system’s planets. He appeared as large as the Daaneen star system.

This constructed image was transmitted to every corner of the system, appearing on billions of holoscreens, cutting through system wide broadcasts and localized transmissions. He was everywhere at once, pronouncing his judgment.

“Sentients of the Daaneen system. I, your Emperor, Kdifoc The Third, Prophesied Ruler of the Universe, do hereby consign you to death. Accept your fate without rancor. Go quietly into the night, and perhaps I shall spare you pain. Know that I have discerned the truth. Know that I have weighed your guilt against possible redemption, and found you wanting. Know that I have loosed the bolts on the weapons of planetary destruction. Witness Harfi. Know that today you pay the ultimate price for you treason. I will suffer no Fifth Column. Know that although the WPD’s are ready to be deployed, we are going to do something different. Today, you meet your god. And just as I have, he has found you wanting. Your Emperor has spoken.”

The Emperor nodded to his Commander. The Commander returned the nod and issued an order.

“Close the Imperial Channel,” Vardakos said.

“Channel closed,” said the comman. “Sir, there is a trifold increase in communications on all frequencies, sub-light, and hyper.”

Signal my brother,” said the Emperor. “We shall send them God.”

“There’s increased activity in the blank space on the far side of the system,” said a senseman. “Contacts, count thirty, thirty-five, fifty. The blank space has completely dissolved.”

“They’ve lowered the cloak,” whispered the Emperor to himself. “Now, we shall see.”

“Highness?” Vradakos just barely heard Kdifoc’s words.

“It is not of note, proceed.”

“I have contacts,” said the senseman. “Fifty ships powering up on approach vectors. They are targeting every ship in the fleet. Power readings are off the scale. I’ve never seen the design.”

Vradakos ignored the senseman, and keyed a special command into his holoconsole. “Sending signal.”

A loud beeping sounded throughout the bridge. Several bits of coded data appeared on the Commander’s screen.

“Your Highness,” said the Commander. “Signal has been sent, and we have received proper response.”
“Very well,” said the avatar. The solid life-like image of the Emperor tilted its head back with satisfaction. He watched the hole open in space, the hole for his brother, the hole for the god. “And the Harvarian shall be the first to feel his might, to taste of white light, to meet doom and trouble me no more. It’s almost poetic, to use such a means, after employing so many others to eliminate a race from my space, a hammer for surgical precision. The bluntness of it will be worth recording, almost … amusing”

“Prince Krakoth’s ship emerging from first level hyperspace,” said the first senseman.

“Initiate full spectrum sensor coverage,” said the Commander. “We have to record everything.”

“Initiating,” said the senseman. “God’s Previss has crossed into Daaneen space.

The avatar was quiet during this exchange. The Emperor stood still, appeared to be engaged, but much of his mind was now occupied with events on the dataplane. He wanted to experience everything firsthand. To this end, he directed much of his mind to the Khallad’s powerful sensors. He would see events unfold as the shipmind would see them, in different wavelengths ranging from the visible to the infrared, and beyond.

The Emperor watched God’s Previss follow the Khallad’s course into the system, flying through the remains of planet Harfi. It was a small vessel, no larger than the Emperor’s own Imperial Shuttle. It was shaped like a crab, with two wide masts in the front, and four extending from the rear. Shielded weapons ports dotted its surface. God’s Previss was made to kill. However, its most deadly weapon reclined in a command chair inside its shell.

The tiny ship increased speed, flying past the Khallad and the Fleet, moving further in system. Kdifoc watched with baited breath as an access port in the belly of the ship opened, and Krakoth emerged. The new god drifted for a moment in the openness of space, moving with the velocity afforded him by his ship. Then, he began to glow, and with a burst of energy shot forward at several times his ship’s velocity.

Kdifoc watched with amazement as his brother streaked across space under his own power, wearing only the armor the sorcerers provided. He was a bright blue and gold streak, a shining harbinger of doom, the bringer of death.
The Emperor adjusted his sensor feed, increasing visual magnitude. He had to keep adjusting to keep up with his brother. The Prince continued to accelerate, faster, and faster, impossibly fast. Kdifoc engaged the hyperlight visual sensors.

“Incredible,” said the avatar on the ship’s bridge. “The Prince has just violated normality.”

“The Prince is moving at faster-than-light velocities, warping speeds,” said the senseman.

Kdifoc took a moment to observe the sentients on his bridge. He could see their amazement, and feel their fear. Yes, it was all true. Prince Krakoth was no longer the elite Zradgen warrior. He had crossed the boundary between sentient and space god. They were watching a true space god. How often did a sentient see such a thing? Not often, if at all.