3212 A.G. (After Gods), Krenz, planet Vau Prime.
Lorenu Phos, Cardinal Seniorus of the Conclave and the single most powerful woman of over seven hundred colonized worlds, sat helpless in her private chambers nestled in the heart of Conclave headquarters. Her world was crumbling around her, and she was lost. Smoke from a hundred fires across the capital drifted up into the light pillars shining into space. Sirens and gunfire echoed through the streets. Redemption Boulevard, once the triumphant symbol of freedom and peace, was blackened from homemade firebombs and vacant.
She couldn’t help but feel it was all her fault. She’d been blinded by political maneuvering and personal agendas, forcing her into this unenviable position. It was with a heavy heart that she’d directed Alain Nye to enact marshal law. Hundreds had been rounded up and locked away. The Inquisition was strained. Rebellions on too many worlds to keep track of stretched their ranks thin, forcing Nye to incorporate more and more of the local law enforcement.
The pirate engagements by the Prekhauten fleets left Vau Prime virtually undefended, an issue that would only bear fruit if the capital planet was attacked or invaded. That was the least of her worries. Lorenu didn’t know where to turn to find the answers she desperately needed. Nor did she know whom to trust. Suspicions were running rampant, through the commoners as well as the clergy. Priests and low-level clerics were being attacked by mobs. One had already died, and there was no telling how far this wave of violence was going to extend before Nye managed to get matters back under control.
Chaos had come to rule over order and justice.
Lorenu fought back what had turned into a steady fit of tears and went to her balcony. She hadn’t been to the gardens in so long, she’d forgotten the solitude that had so often soothed her during her tenure as Cardinal Seniorus. Now she wished she’d never run for the position, heeding the warnings of family and friends. All power came with enemies. Only now was she beginning to realize just how dark those enemies were, but not who.
“Are there any answers?” she asked no one. The night mocked her with its silence. She almost summoned Aliz, if only to see a friendly face and feel the warmth of unconditional love. Lorenu also knew that she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if anything happened to Aliz because she exposed her to unnecessary risk.
As if in answer to her prayers, a dynamic blue flare blossomed in orbit. Lorenu instantly recognized it for what it was. The Acumensiis Comet had steadily been approaching for more than a month, the elongated plume growing larger and brighter nightly. The Conclave had already received requests for a delegation to arrive, and, curiously, only Lorenu knew that Grand Mistress Ruma Zzein was secretly communicating with her alone as the false delegation met with the Forum and Inquisition officials. Webs within webs. Seeing the legendary home of the Order of Blood Witches entering Vau Prime’s orbit gave her hope for the future.
The one hundred Cardinals of the Forum, the inner circle of elected clergy that created legislation and policy for most of the known universe, noisily filed into the meeting chamber. Arguments and angered comments were traded. Very few of the illustrious group appreciated or accepted the arrival of the Blood Witches. Word had passed quickly through the compounds and sanctums as the Forum, along with most of Krenz, was informed that the entire comet abbey had come.
The event was unprecedented. Never had such an eccentric group come to treat with the rulers of the universe. The cardinals were largely unimpressed by the gesture. Outcasts one and all, the witches were the product of a failed program aimed at redeeming those society had no place for. To find three of the witches standing in the center of the Forum chambers sent many cardinals into fits.
“I thought the purpose of their order was to remove the undesirables from our ranks? Now they have the nerve to come here and issue demands. How low have we fallen,” Cardinal Tinus Har sniped.
Cardinal Arbalas waved him off, her twin chins jiggling across the top of her collar. “Perhaps you can mention your ideas for a euthanasia program to Lorenu again the next time you have a meeting.”
“I’ll never be able to get her out of her offices. Our vaunted Cardinal Seniorus has become a shadow ruler.”
Ott Gorman leaned down from the row behind. “We are on the verge of war and you abandon our leadership?”
“I am abandoning nothing, Cardinal Gorman.” Har’s eyes darkened. “When is the last time any of us saw her in public? When is the last time she officiated over anything? We’re the ones being abandoned.”
Gorman’s liver spots flared. “That’s convenient considering your own planet was unable to prevent the destruction of the Prekhauten station in orbit.”
“Shut up, Gorman. You and I both know I had nothing to do with what happened there, just like you don’t know what’s happening on your own world. We’ve moved on to bigger matters.”
“You are failing to recognize one crucial factor in your decision-making process, Gorman,” the elder Cardinal Thent added quietly.
Gorman regarded the man critically. They’d never gotten along, and he was positive whatever came out of Thent’s mouth next would be pure nonsense. “Don’t waste my time, old man.”
“Time is many things but doesn’t belong to any one of us,” Thent retorted. “What I was going to say was you fail to consider that we are a broken body of legislature. Nothing we do or try has worked well over the past two years, not since Amongeratix escaped our prison on Crimeat. Lorenu Phos is ineffective as Cardinal Seniorus. She is the root of our problems.”
Gorman’s eyes narrowed critically. “What are you saying?”
“The time has come for Lorenu Phos to step aside or be removed if she is unwilling to relinquish her power.”
Feeling his heart pound up into his throat, Gorman struggled to find the right words but knew he was only going to create a stir amongst the cardinals. His mind reeled under the implications of what he’d just heard. The audacity! The Conclave was bordering on open war against the rising number of cults, not to mention the military actions that already begun against the pirate clans that had been, in Gorman’s opinion, ignored for far too long, and here was one of the senior-most Cardinals of the Forum openly declaring that the Cardinal Seniorus should step down.
“I think one of them is about to speak,” Arbalas said, eager to break the rising tension before the two elder Cardinals came to blows.
An uneasy silence settled over the assembly. Most of them had never heard a Blood Witch talk, much less seen a living one in person. They sat riveted to the three slender figures hovering inches above the freshly polished marble floor. Floating! All had heard the rumors, but few bothered believing in such childish fairy tales. People couldn’t float, and that was it. Standing there before them, more than a few cardinals were forced to rethink their theories and beliefs. The burning question of what else they might have miscalculated weighing heavily on their minds.
“The Grand Mistress of the Order of Blood Witches thanks your Cardinal Seniorus for this audience,” Deius Mlth, Mistress of Arms, addressed the assembly. Her voice, normally lithe and wispy, echoed throughout the chamber with authority. The gossamer folds of her gown rippled softly. “Our two great factions have long been allies, if somewhat strained by politics. We are here now to reaffirm our commitment to the Conclave and to deliver a dire warning.”
She waited for the murmur to fade before continuing. “The beings you know as the Three have resurfaced with the intent of awakening their brethren to regain dominance over the known universe. They are aided by a growing faction of humanity that has become disillusioned with your strictures and societal constraints.”
“This is preposterous! How dare you come before us and insult us with base threats?” Tinus Har stood and roared. “We’ve ruled the universe for three thousand years without your help. Naturally there have been bumps along the way, but this body has remained the sole, true power. Our rule is unquestionable.”
“We did not come to trade insults or harsh words, merely to speak the truth,” Algiss Her, Mistress of Novices, interjected. “You face a war of unprecedented size. Nothing you have experienced in your brief history has prepared you for what is coming.”
“You expect us to think you have clairvoyant powers? A roving band of psychics and charlatans that deign to grace us with their infinite wisdoms moments before the old gods return from oblivion! Go back to that rock in space you call home. We will handle this crisis as we’ve handled all others that came before.”
The Blood Witches remained still. Much of the reaction of the cardinals was expected. Algiss briefly turned her head to Deius with the unspoken knowledge that no one in this room truly understood the beings they worshipped and revered as gods were not dead at all. Ruma had warned them before entering Vau Prime’s orbit, but not even her most ardent supporters were willing to accept that nearly all of humanity was being kept in the dark, purposefully. Deius gently shook her head and returned her gaze back to the enraged Forum.
“It is no secret that the women of the Order are…gifted in ways the majority of humanity is not, but we don’t carry ourselves with empty titles. Your anger is misplaced, Cardinal. We come as allies, not enemies.”
Ott Gorman rose and beckoned for silence. “Disputing the reasons for your sudden and, admittedly, unexpected arrival is a pointless endeavor, Mistress. You must realize that contact between our factions, as you put it, has been so severely constrained that it would be most unusual for any of us to accept your words on face value. Scripture tells us that the gods were all destroyed at the final battle of Occanum. The Three are the sad remnants of their race and, while infinitely dangerous, pose no real threat to the continuity of the Conclave.”
“You are mistaken about a great many truths, Cardinal Ott Gorman,” Deius countered softly. “Unfortunately, it is not my place to enlighten you.”
“Enlighten us to what? Lies spun in the dark holds of your isolation? The Acumensiis Comet may float across the heavens, but it is not the know-all, be-all source in the universe. How many times have we needed your Order only to be met by silence or worse? There is a truth to be had among the stars, but I highly doubt it can be found on that rock you call home.”
If the Blood Witches were incensed, they refused to show it, further infuriating many of the Forum. Deius continued, “Perhaps you have forgotten that our Order began long before the rest of humanity climbed out of its caves and learned that fire was not to be feared? None of the past matters, at least not the parts with which you are familiar. War is coming, ladies and gentleman, a war that you cannot hope to stall or stave off. Our message is delivered. We will go now.”
The trio of Blood Witches began to fade, blurring into the light marble floor in a brilliant light. Blinded, the Cardinals were forced to shield their eyes. When their vision finally cleared, they looked down in a strange combination of wonder and suspicion. The Blood Witches were gone.
“Do you truly believe this is the end?” Lorenu Phos asked reluctantly.
Ruma Zzein waited a moment and nodded. “I have seen it. Amongeratix is much stronger than he was when he escaped his prison on Keltoo. For him to breach my shielding and ward spells in the abbey suggests he is nearly ready to begin his quest to finish his long war. The key has been discovered, the artifact in play, and Amongeratix will stop at nothing to get them.”
“The Inquisitor General has assured me that the Inquisition is doing everything it can to retrieve the artifact.”
Lorenu trembled at the thought of Amongeratix getting his hands on the artifact. He would be unstoppable, despite anything Nye or she could muster to throw at him. The power of the Three was rising at last. It was inevitable. The closest the Inquisition had come to recovering the artifact was seven years ago when the LodSpear had been destroyed in the Mefgelin Asteroid Belt by what was now known to be a coordinated pirate attack. Unanswered questions had plagued her at the time; questions that shouldn’t have been asked. Very few people had knowledge of the expedition, forcing her to reluctantly accept that one or more of her closest confidants was a traitor.
If Amongeratix got both totems, he could awaken, or destroy, his entire race. Even facing only a few hundred, the Conclave would be hard pressed to stop them from reclaiming the thrones of the universe. The Three had proven elusive and nearly too powerful already. Cold dread ran down her spine at the thought of hundreds more causing havoc across the stars.
An incredible sense of failure settled on her frail shoulders. Guilt gnawed at her, breathing new life into doubt and regret. Lorenu had accepted the position of Cardinal Seniorus to protect humanity, not lead it down into the throes of chaos. No matter which direction she looked, only uncertainty stared back.
The Cardinal Seniorus bowed her head, choking back her sorrow rising like bile in her throat. “I had hoped it would never come to this. What did I do wrong?”
“A pointless question, Lorenu. The past cannot be changed. Amongeratix has made the opening move in the war and has the support of millions of your people, including men and women in all three of the ruling organizations. Treason is about to become a meaningless word.”
The Grand Mistress of the Blood Witches fell silent, allowing Lorenu time to understand what she’d been told. That same level of enlightenment was being delivered to the Forum now but with severely opposite results. Ruma suddenly came to realize the sad truth that had helped fuel much of the troubles now facing the Conclave.
“How many know the truth?” she asked.
Lorenu glanced up. “What truth?”
“That the gods are not dead.”
The straightforwardness of it produced a chuckle. “Perhaps twenty-five. It has been as closely guarded as anything in our history. We fabricate the lie to keep panic and fear from seeping into the hearts of the people. Those that came before me thought it wise to keep this secret. Now, I don’t know.”
Ruma nodded, keeping a darker, more damning secret private. “It is the same secret that will undo all who have sat in your office have striven to accomplish.”
“What hope do I have? Is there anything I can do?” the desperation in her voice made her tremble.
Ruma reached out and gently took Lorenu’s hand in her own. She fixed a soft gaze on the aging woman, that same sorrow reflected in her own eyes. “The pieces are in place. Amongeratix is already moving. You will be betrayed by those in your closest confidence. There is but one act you can commit that will see the war end with at least some vestige of humanity still alive. Lorenu Phos, you have to die.”
Mobus Kale folded his arms across his chest and watched as the file of prisoners was lined up against the blackened wall. His robotic right arm pressed tightly against his uniform, creasing the dark fabric. The glare in his eyes bordered on maniacal. He truly enjoyed what he was doing. For too long he’d languished under the moral constraints of the Prekhauten Guard, denying his true nature. Mobus had always known he was a violent man, prone to fits of rage and capable of extreme levels of barbarism. That inner beast was finally freed thanks to Alain Nye.
The six men and women huddled together in the vain hopes of finding escape. Blindfolded and tied, they were being executed for the crime of loyalty to the Conclave. All were lower-level priests. Fabricated charges of heresy were issued, and they were rounded up in the middle of the night. Hundreds more had already been eliminated since the Inquisition had declared martial law, all under the auspice of protecting the Conclave. Mobus nodded as the sergeant of the guard gave him an expectant look. Ion rifles cracked and sizzled, and the prisoners fell dead with agonizing screams.
“Sergeant, leave the bodies,” Mobus ordered.
“Sir, our orders say —”
“I give the orders! And I say leave these heretics where they are. I want everyone to see the bodies.”
The sergeant opened and closed his mouth, finding discretion the better of his choices. Unlike many of his peers who readily followed Kale’s orders, committing one atrocity after another, he found his duty at odds with his sense of morality. Dark times were on the horizon, and a keen sense of self-preservation kept him from overstepping his authority. He carried out his orders, all the while suffering in his soul.
A runner came up and saluted Mobus. “Colonel, the Inquisitor General wishes to speak with you.”
“Kindly tell him that I am occupied but will make contact once I’m finished,” Mobus said, his eyes never leaving the cooling pile of bodies.
“Perhaps you would care to tell me yourself.”
Mobus turned sharply. He looked upon the poorly camouflaged image of the Inquisitor General and frowned. Not in the same chain of command, Mobus could get away with considerably more than an average Inquisitor, but even he recognized his limits. Nye was unpredictable at best, vindictive at his very worst. The insurrection was still too young for Mobus to risk provoking the most powerful man in the universe.
“Inquisitor General, I was finishing up this operation,” he announced, hoping to deflect some of Nye’s ire.
Nye glanced at the row of abused bodies. An eyebrow peaked but he refrained from commenting. “The Blood Witch delegation has arrived and is addressing the Forum as we speak. I want all loyalist forces ready to act once the witches return to their floating abbey.”
“Is that wise? We have too many units dispersed across the planet. We’re not ready to move on the Conclave. Phos will have her entire security detail out in force, expecting anything to go wrong. It would be wiser to wait until tomorrow. Strike hard and fast right before dawn when most of the city is asleep.”
Nye disagreed. “Curfew will be ending. There will be too many witnesses.”
“What difference does that make? Once Phos is removed and the power of the Conclave broken, the people will fall in line. I doubt many truly care who rules them,” Mobus countered.
“A modicum of patience is required, Colonel. The Forum will be distracted by the Blood Witches. Security will be lax, curious to see if all they have heard and been led to believe is true. Time is as much an enemy as an ally here.” Nye clasped his hands behind his back. The platoon of Inquisitorial Guards behind him stood motionless.
Mobus stared into their reflective facemasks and wondered how far they were willing to go to protect their commander if he made a move. Where they as fanatical as Nye appeared? Or would they stand by and allow him to stick a blade in Nye’s belly? The Guardsman was half-tempted to find out.
“We stand to lose more lives than anticipated,” he said instead.
Nye shrugged. “What are lives but reproducible resources? Sometimes it is good for people to die. It lets the survivors know what their leaders are capable of. This matter is not up for debate, Colonel. I expect a status report the moment your men are in place.”
Mobus was forced to admit a measure of respect for Nye. Leading soldiers to their deaths was no easy feat, though one he had gotten used to over the course of his career. Their deaths fueled his rage and, at least in his opinion, made him a better commander than many of his peers. Conventional wisdom and current doctrine viewed lives as the Guard’s most valuable asset. Mobus debated that with any willing to hear it. His enemy/friendly kill ratio was the highest across all deployable battalions, save the campaign on Crimeat. General Strannan had officially reprimanded him for carelessness, but that only pushed him harder. For the Inquisitor General to voice a matching view was encouraging.
“How much time will I have?” he asked.
“A few hours at the most. There’s no telling what those bitches want or how long they plan on staying. Begin moving your forces into position. I will be in touch shortly.”
Mobus watched him stalk away. “What dark purpose brings you out this night?”
Only the stale wind answered.