Royal Residence
Kal-El’s com pip chirped loudly during the middle of a friendly sword practice session with Master Tre-Vil. Upon hearing the sound, the clash of swordplay ceased, the men’s bodies glistening with perspiration. Kal-El lifted his mask, took a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow with a gloved hand and spoke into the microphone at his collar, “Yes?”
The concerned voice of his grandmother’s assistant, Lirya, answered. “Forgive the intrusion my Lord, but there has been an attack on the Ur Collective by Nor’s forces. Thankfully, Lady Zara’s squadron intervened…”
A feeling of dread filled his heart. This was exactly what Ching had feared might happen. With a deep breath he said, “Is …is Lady Zara well?”
Lirya took a quick breath and said “Yes. But Lord Mar-Ur’s son pursued the lead fighter plane and is presumed to have crashed near the Olmor Mountain range. Lady Polara has spoken with Ronteo, Lord Ur’s steward. He says Mar-Ur is comforting his lady and the family as well as securing the collective after the attack.”
Tre-Vil, who had walked away in an effort not to listen in on the conversation, heard the report still, and closed his eyes as if to block out the tragedy. The possible loss of such a promising youth was profoundly distressing. How many more such young ones would be sacrificed before Nor’s damnable ‘Splinter War’ came to an end? It was time he made a strike against Nor as he had done in the past.
Meanwhile, Kal-El relieved that Zara had survived the aerial battle, but devastated for Lord Ur, spoke in a calm, even tone. “What has been done to recover him?”
“The Lady Zara’s squadron is circling the area in search of wreckage, but the terrain has a rough, uneven surface and visibility is low. The sunrise in Qar will be in a few hours. We should have a better chance of finding him.” Lirya’s unspoken words indicated they might only recover his ship and mangled remains.
“I authorize five fighters from my own personal squadron to join the search immediately. Contact me as soon as possible… when he is found.”
“Yes, my Lord.” With those words, she broke the connection.
“Master Tre-Vil, I apologize, but our match will have to continue another time. If you will excuse me?”
Tre-Vil bowed and said, his gravelly voice edged with emotion. “Thank you for adding some assistance to the search. The Olmor Mountain range is well known to Dar-Ur, and he is resourceful. If anyone can survive that barren ground, he can.”
As Kal-El removed his training gear he said, “Hopefully, you are correct. I like that young man; he reminds me of someone I know on Terra.”
“Aye. Lord and Lady El respect and admire him greatly.”
“So does my cousin Kara.” A sad expression darkened Kal-El features. “I am calling an emergency council meeting and then I am for Abondar-El.”
***
Elder Jen-Mai walked down the sparsely occupied corridor with a shapely, well-dressed woman by his side. The woman, Celda smiled at him and all passersby, eager to be seen walking towards his chambers as a powerful council member, as such rich patronage could help her status as a concubine to rise.
He had pursued her for a moon round, following the usual courtier’s pattern for obtaining a woman’s company for the night. He enjoyed the game and Celda, for her part, played it with zest. True, the concubine was not a brilliant conversationalist, but that was not what he wanted her for. After enjoying a repast of chilled wines, delicately roasted sea-meats, and baked vegetables, she agreed to return with him to his apartments. The sensual fruits of both their labors would be realized this evening.
Perhaps if she pleased him they could come to a longer-term mutually beneficial arrangement. Unfortunately, any other thoughts about her were interrupted as a young messenger, wearing the white and scarlet shoulder band of a Convoca messenger, approached him.
When the boy reached the couple he bowed low and said in a voice that cracked with nervousness. “My lord Jen-Mai, this urgent communique has just arrived. Lord Akar-Ar is sending it personally to all council members rather than via com pip.”
Jen-Mai held out his hand, wiggled his fingers and replied in an irritated tone. “Very well then, lad. Give it to me.”
The boy shrugged and responded weakly, “Yes, my lord.”
Cocking an eyebrow at the youngster, he wondered why the old condor would send a ‘written’ message rather than simply contacting all of them via their com pips? Weren’t messengers like the boy before him only used during an emergency? Gazing at Celda, he decided to read the message at home rather than in the corridor.
In a voice that did not conceal the deep frustration he felt, Jen-Mai gestured impatiently for the boy to leave. He muttered. “Very well. I shall read it and contact the council at my earliest convenience.”
Bowing, the messenger turned and hurried down the hallway, no doubt on similar errands to other council members.
In the privacy of his chambers, Jen-Mai read the report, trying desperately not to reveal the expression of horror on his face to Celda. She lay on the divan studying a hologram of pictures portraying the latest clothing styles of the Convoca’s wives.
“Will you be joining me soon?” she asked in a languid voice.
He looked at the beautiful woman; clear porcelain skin, hair as black as night and full lips only moments ago he desired to kiss. But, alas, while the rest of the body’s parts were exemplary, the skull was void of intelligence; at that moment, she seemed more an ornament than a person. Thanks to the council’s urgent message, his ardent desire for the woman had turned to ash.
Celda’s vapid presence was an irritant to him. For tonight, at least, their desires and her materialistic ambitions would be put on hold. With a sneer and hurried wave of his hand he said, “No. Leave me.”
She pouted, realizing that the evening was over, but then shrugged. As a professional concubine it made no matter to her whether she remained or not. Jen-Mai knew that as long as the right amount of credits were deposited into her personal account and her jewels were safe, she would say nothing of what did not pass between them. The mere fact that she was seen entering his apartments would already have enhanced her growing reputation.
The lithe body, displaying a dancer’s practiced grace, stood up, moved smoothly towards him, the whisper of costly perfume and fabric stroking the air, until she stood directly in front of him. She then bowed with elegant impertinence and then departed.
As soon as the door closed, Jen-Mai began to pace rapidly across the floor, his mind racing. He was fully aware that Nor had launched his attack because Mar-Ur had sided with that pretender Kal-El. But the man must be out of his mind to use those Viper ships in a raid on the Ur Estate.
Nor has assured him they were meant to be held back until his forces were ready to attack their final target: the capital. Using them now put them at risk that some zealous person, possibly Ken-Ja, would track the ships back to his department.
Compounding matters, Dar-Ur, the son of Mar-Ur, was missing. That meant that either directly or indirectly, Nor had spilled noble blood. If the Ur heir was not found, the father would spend every waking minute to track Nor down and kill him. The thought made him cold. A dark reckoning was on the horizon. He needed to be prepared for a hastily egress from the city.
Abruptly his comm pip chirped.
Angrily he barked, “Yes! What is it?”
His aide, Vadim, said, “Pardon sir, Lord Mar-Ur personal ship has returned to the capital and First Lord Kal-El has called an emergency Convoca meeting. It will take place within an hour.”
Vadim’s message added another layer of distress. He wanted to leave the city immediately but thought better of it. As Nor’s eyes and ears within the very walls of the Convoca chamber, it would insure his worth within the rebellion if attending all meetings of the Convoca meant furthering the rebel’s cause. That, and the fact that he was afraid of what Nor might do to him if he did leave, cemented his decision. The rebel had Jen-Mai crossed between sword and laser.
Right now Mar-Ur was the problem. No doubt the Convoca Speaker would be breathing death and destruction against Nor and any who even hinted at siding with him. It would not surprise him to see the man wearing sword and armaments in the Convoca Hall. For once he hoped that having Lady Polara and her grandson attending the council meeting would be advantageous, as their presence might placate the angry Speaker.
“Very well. Inform them I shall be there shortly.” Reluctantly, he entered the interior apartment to change into the white and purple trimmed robes of his office.
***
In his sparsely furnished room of the Sapphire Guardian’s barracks, Arc-Tal roughly pushed some civilian clothing in his bag, leaving the Sapphire Guardian uniform he had just taken off in a heap on the cold stone floor. He also removed several credits from their hiding place under his bunk, the ill-gotten rewards from the games of chance he often played with his companions. Now these funds would see him to the outer provinces and then the frontier. He would discover where Nor was hiding, perhaps presume on their distant kinship and join his army. There was nothing here for him now.
Disgraced.
The word rang with shrill tones in his mind.
His late father, Eon-Tal had sent him here to have a career in the Sapphire Guardians. As a second son he could work on the family lands, but with his constant fighting with his older brother, his father thought it best to send him where his temper could be honed into something useful and be a help, not a problem.
Now he had a black mark against his career, and it was unlikely that could be fixed. With the senior Tal gone, it was unlikely that his 'dear' brother would welcome him home.
Tre-Vil had ordered him to the agricultural Munde Province, the home of Ching’s family. His assignment was to be senior Guardian of a platoon of foot soldiers charged to protect an immense underground granary. Lately, Nor’s forces had been attacking collectives, small farms, and cattle stations. It was necessary to divert manpower to guard these granaries.
On the surface, it was meant as a promotion, unfortunately, Arc-Tal knew full well it was the master swordsman’s polite form of banishment. All because he wounded Zara’s precious bodyguard during friendly combat.
It mattered little to him who ruled New Krypton; they were all spoiled fools. Previously, he had no argument with the outworlder Kal-El. But the sword match with Ching changed everything. The way he was humiliated in front of his fellows was something he could not stomach, and he vowed that somehow the outworlder would pay. Unfortunately this ‘promotion’ to Munde would not only cost him prestige. It would make his plan for revenge difficult. Hence, he planned to join the others who had sided with Nor, and in double quick time to become the rebellion leader’s good right arm. When the moment was ripe he would kill the First Lord of Krypton before Nor could do it.
With a grunt of satisfaction, he hefted the bag over his shoulder, exited the room and pushed his way out of the barracks, ignoring the calls of greetings from his fellow guardians.
***
Zor-El sat in the outdoor area of Abondar-El observing the twin moons Lyssa and Demo rise to begin their nightly sway across the skies. At times like this, he took comforting solace in watching the luminaries, knowing that although his life was finite, certain things in the universe would exist long after he and the problems of New Krypton’s people had faded into cosmic dust. Today, he sought comfort over last night’s raid at Ur Collective and the pain it had brought to his own house.
“How fares our daughter?” He asked Alura, as he heard the gentle sound of her footsteps approaching. Her expression was taut and at his invitation she sat beside him. For a space of time, they found peace seated together outside, looking out upon the expansive grounds of Abondar-El and the moons rising beyond.
Finally, Alura took a deep breath and gave a sad shake of her head. “Our daughter remains in her chambers. She is trying to imitate Polara Lo, to hold herself as a great lady, and not to let us hear her crying. Our … our child’s heart is breaking, Zor-El.”
A long, deep sigh escaped his lips. How many other men and women, along with their families, were mourning the loss of friends and loved ones? Nor, ever the malevolent force, would have much to answer for in his insane pursuit of power. The spoils of such a war, any war really, were never worth the cost of the hunt.
He felt the soothing touch of Alura’s hands over his shoulders, inhaling the scent of blooming night flowers she preferred. How he longed for the days when more than her hands touched him, and they engaged in passionate embraces. Now only these tantalizing caresses remained, offering treasured remembrances of the intimate past they once shared.
No doubt he was certain she noted that his bones stood out sharper against his flesh than a mere moonround before. But by unspoken agreement, they had decided to no longer discuss the fatal progression of his illness. Instead Alura said, “We need to console her, my love.
“Agreed. My heart breaks for her. To lose a dear friend…”
Alura’s voice interrupted and said with a sigh. “My love, young Dar was more than a friend…”
Looking closely at his bondmate, Zor-El said curiously, “They were childhood companions. Whenever I saw one, the other was not far behind. My wife, has this horrible disease made me so blind, so self-centered, so unattuned to those around me that I missed their relationship’s alteration?”
Alura nodded. No doubt if the situation was not a somber one, he was fairly certain a happy twinkle might have materialized in her fine eyes. She had so loved to gently tease him, sadly, there was not as much occasion for it as in former days. “If his squadron had not gone on this terrible mission, Dar-Ur had planned on speaking with you tomorrow.”
Zor-El grumbled gently, “He’s like his father always impatient to get the task done and hang everything else. I have no doubts about Dar-Ur caring for her, yet they are so young…”
“No more than we were on the day of our bonding ceremony.”
A tender expression touched his features. “What a beautiful day that was, beloved. But now we must mourn. Our daughter’s betrothed is dead…”
His wife’s voice became somewhat lighter, and she said, “Then …you would have agreed to their bonding?”
Zor-El shrugged. “Of course. There is no other I would have entrusted our child’s safety.” Like Jor-El, I have never been in favor of forcing a union between two people merely to strengthen their families holdings. We were bonded at their age, but we were not forced into it, we wanted to be together.”
“I shall ask her to come downstairs so we may converse as a family.” Alura responded, fighting back tears.
He patted her hand; aware she did not want him exerting too much energy. “Let us go and comfort our child.” He gave a wry smile. “She should not be forced to leave the privacy of her chambers … no matter how much she wants to be like Polara.”
Suddenly a sharp pain lanced his back and radiated like liquid fire throughout his body. Despite the special herbal and chemical compound Cla-Le provided, the dreaded disease no longer gave him much peace. It was forcing his cells to continue destabilizing, heading to its inevitable conclusion. Not wishing to alarm Alura, with a firm set of his jaw, Zor-El stoically ignored the hurt and, with the assistance of the ubiquitous exoskeleton, he stood and together they went to speak with Kara.
***
Kal-El, Trey and Ching walked towards the Convoca, the sound of Mar-Ur’s angry voice rang throughout the corridors. He still wore the same clothes as when the battle had begun. The shirt sleeves of fine silklike materials were torn, and his pants and half boots were covered with wide slashes of dried mud and blood. Kal-El caught the tail end of the older man’s report as he neared the chamber.
“…several acres of my lands are a …a smoldering ruin. If it were not for Lady Zara’s squadron’s timely intervention, nothing would have remained of Ur Collective! My steward, Ronteo, and his workers did a laudable job of defending our homes. We are grateful for their deeds…but as of yet there is still no word on …my son.”
The men surrounding Mar-Ur were asking questions and making demands. Some foolish fellow had the temerity to ask if the vine plants that brought forth the famous Ur ice wines had survived the attack.
Mar-Ur spat out the answer, “The madman did not touch the vineyards! Why do you worry about that Dhua-On? Well I can tell you; your collective in the Yevan province won’t be getting its yearly allotment! My concerns are towards those brave ones who manned the anti-aircraft posts and were seriously injured from the incendiaries that Nor’s ships laid down. They …. they were …are boys. Thankfully none were killed!”
Cla-Le said soothingly, “According to my colleagues at the medical centers in the Qar Province, those defenders of your home will all be placed in Regeneration chambers until they are fully healed. I understand food, clothing and medics are being sent there as well.”
“There is no need to fear, Mar-Ur. I pledge ten of my workers to help you rebuild the collective.” Ken-Ja called out in a tone very unlike his usual calculating manner.
Shouts of affirmation for assistance to the Ur Collective went out.
Mar-Ur’s eyes beamed with relief when he said, “I thank you, my friends, for the generous offers of assistance. But please, hold off providing aid until this madness is at an end. Before it is over, you may require such assistance yourselves.”
“We need all the strength of arms we can against that rebel, whether it be lord, lady, or commoner. New Krypton must survive this Splinter War,” Kal-El’s voice rang out and silenced the attendees.
The crowd stood back as the First Lord walked purposefully into the chamber, the expression on his face closed and as tight as a fist.
Another man spoke, “Have any reports come in telling us where those ships went?”
“Those communication satellites do us no good if they’re not able to track down where those planes came from!” Ree-Vil said. “All the advanced technology of our people, and we cannot find a single one?”
The murmur of voices throughout the room sounded in agreement with him. Kal-El knew the importance of calming not only the Elders and Lords, but he also needed to still the frightened populace of New Krypton. It was damaging enough that Nor had attacked the Outer Provinces, but now Qar, part of the Inner Provinces had been attacked, as well.
When would he make his injurious move against Kandor II? With quick, determined strides, he approached the ornate central chair, pulled it back and with a slightly raised voice, spoke to the forty men present.
“My Lords and Elders of the Provinces, please let us sit and discuss the attack on the Ur Collective.”
Gradually the men found their respective seats and stood before them, waiting until the First Lord was seated.
When Kal-El sat, the others followed. Once settled, than he said, “Elder Trey, for this meeting of the Convoca you shall act as Speaker rather than Lord Mar-Ur, as he has endured much and must finish his report about what happened at the Ur Collective.”
Mar-Ur, well into middle age, stood slowly; his body had been running on adrenaline for the past five hours. The anguish of what had happened to him, his family and workers on the Ur Collective was beginning to hit him, as the shock finally wore off. With a quivering voice he began, “The Ur Collective had a …a sensory grid and short-range scanners. We never imagined a raid would come upon ... Qar Provinces. We heard nothing until our sensory grid’s alarm went off. What about the early warning our satellites were supposed to give?”
A slice of fear went through Jen-Mai who was sitting far away from his enemy Ken-Ja. He worried that any minute the perceptive Lord would point a finger at him. Ordnance was his purview. Those satellites should have given the Ur Collective at least a twenty minute warning to prepare themselves. Mar-Ur would demand to know why they failed at any moment. He needed to preempt that accusation now. He spoke to Elder Trey. “If I may speak?”
Mar-Ur rubbed his temples and said, “Only if you have an answer to my question.”
Trey nodded and said, “Lord Jen-Mai has the floor.”
“When this Splinter War began, we should have upgraded those satellites to track the movements of anything bigger than a chair, much less ships capable of destroying a collective.” Jen-Mai extended his smooth hands and continued, “Ours was a peaceful world, ergo we never had need of tracking weaponry of any kind. Here on New Krypton we have been focused on re-building our civilization. Now with these raids we are harking back to those days when we fought terrible wars. Ask Lady Polara ...” Puzzled, he looked around. “By the way, where is she?”
Ching spoke up, “Lady Polara took her own ship and joined the search for young Dar-Ur. She is also bringing much needed supplies from the House of El to the Ur Collective.”
Akar-Ar didn’t cooperate with Jen-Mai’s attempt to change the subject. “We may be peaceful, but our technology is vast and has solved numerous problems, including atmospheric sickness. Such a delay for an upgrade to our satellites is inexcusable. Ordnance must update those satellites to do more than guide our ships to and from orbit!”
Another man stood; he was stocky with tufts of wiry gray hair sticking out from behind his ears. “Elder Trey, Lif-Ev of the Guneir Province. May I speak?”
Trey nodded. Jen-Mai sat down and knew the hunt for answers about the satellites upgrade would be his undoing. Mentally he prepared for his escape.
“Jen-Mai, battle ordnance is under your purview. We are in the middle of a war. It should be a simple matter to fix those things in the sky so they can do their job. My home is in the Guneir Province which borders Munde. Not one collective has been assaulted as Ur has been, but our farms, cattle and wood have been raided at least once a moon round. Were it not for the forethought of putting in hydroponic farms underground, large segments of Guneir’s populace would suffer malnutrition during the upcoming frost season.”
Many heads nodded in agreement and a growl of anger was heard. All the Outer Provinces had felt the unrelenting pressure of Nor’s hit and run strategy.
Kal-El needed to calm the men and find a way to stop Nor’s forward motion. If only he had his powers! He could fly over the provinces and scan the areas for the man’s rebel camp.
Kal-El stood and said, “Elder Trey. May I speak?”
“Yes, First Lord.”
A hot rivulet of sweat slid down Jen-Mai’s back.
“We could debate about the satellites all night. But that will not help us discover Nor’s headquarters.” He turned to Jen-Mai and said, “Send up your best team of technicians and have the satellites serviced or whatever maintenance is necessary. Just get them working to spot any trouble from Nor! I want a report immediately.”
Jen-Mai bowed and said, “As you wish my Lord.” With those words he stood on trembling legs and departed from the chamber as quickly as possible.
Kal-El stood and addressed the men present. "I am for Abondar-El."
Last edited by Morgana; 11/24/24 07:57 PM.
