Frontline

“As the appointed governor of this world, you will be responsible for enforcing my will and ensuring that all Imperial laws and decrees are followed.”

Emperor Xandarius was speaking to the assembled men and woman via viewscreen. He had returned to his ship after the dual and sent a message a few hours latter, telling Omegazon that he would be addressing him, the locally selected leaders, and whatever advisors he chose to bring the next day at midday, local time.

Blusilon had worked for hours to heal Omegazon, but even with the healer’s natural abilities and the team’s cutting-edge medical equipment, their leader was still pretty banged up. His armor had taken the brunt of the damage, but Omegazon was lucky to have come out of it alive. He had numerous cuts and burns, a fractured skull, two broken ribs and a dislocated knee. The injuries had been reduced, and Omegazon was able to stand unsupported, but his skin was still covered in bruises, and you could make out the bulge of bandages around his torso underneath his tight, slimmed-down, back-up suit.

Yellta had sent word back to the capital ahead of them with the news of the outcome of the fight. The Executive Council had reacted with shock, disbelief, and not a few angry comments. Some of the councilors suggested launching an immediate attack against the invaders, with The Seven leading the charge (whether they would be there to inspire or suicidaly charge in to make up for their leaders defeat were both thoughts that crossed Yellta’s mind). That idea was rejected by both Yellta and the more level headed councilors.

“Their ruler was able to single-handedly subdue our world’s greatest hero, has a massive warship above us with unknown capabilities and quite possibly tens of thousands of troops and vehicles. An aggressive response will at best get us and you killed. At worst, he kills everyone. Fighting is not an option at this moment.” Said Yellta.

“Gods above, do you think he’d do such a thing?” asked one of the councilors.

“To be honest, no. He seems to have a code of honor that he sticks to, and I can’t imagine someone who would give his conquests a chance to avoid being absorbed would resort to genocide, but we really have no way of knowing for sure what he’s capable of, or what we can do to inadvertently provoke him, so going in guns blazing is out. End of story.”

The councilor’s all lapsed into uneasy silence as they individually mulled over the information.

“How is Omegazon doing? Will he survive?” asked a purple skinned councilor.

Yellta opened her mouth to answer, but only a small noise escaped. She swallowed hard and through the video chat the assembled council could see her eyes were shinny with unshed tears. She took a deep breath before answering.

“Blusilon is working on him in the medbay, and we’ll be rushing him to the infirmary once we reach our base. He’s stable at the moment, but that monster did a number on him.”

No one pointed out she hadn’t mentioned how likely his survival was.

“What did he mean when he said he Omegazon was his pick for governor? Does that mean he’s handing control of the entire planet to one man?”

“The initial message, the one delivered by the robot mentioned that there would be an appointment, and it looks like Omegazon is his pick.” Responded another councilor.

“However, we won’t know exactly what that means for Omegazon, us, you or the planet, until we are contacted by the alien again.” Said Yellta.

“It sounds like all we can do at the moment is wait and see.” Said one councilor, bitterly.

“I’m afraid so, Councilor.” Said Yellta, with legitimate sympathy.

“In the meantime, we need to address the public.” Said the purple councilor. “The question is, how much do we tell them?”

“I’m afraid we’ll have to leave that up to you, Councilors.” Said Yellta. She was far too tired and nervous about Rodo to worry about PR at the moment. “Just know you continue to have our full support.”

The assembled councilor’s nodded to the heroine and terminated the feed. They had their own situations to attend to.

As the day passed into evening and the team arrived at their base, Yellta received the message about the meeting at midday tomorrow.

For an interstellar ruler with a code of honor, he sure can be unsympathetic to someone he just mangled.

Yellta had a little bit longer of a wait before Blusilon emerged from the private trauma ward. He looked exhausted, drawn and haggard, and he moved stiffly. He collapsed on a nearby couch and pulled an energy bar from his belt. He unwrapped it and crammed the whole thing unceremoniously into his mouth.

Yellta waited patiently (outwardly, at least, inside she was a nervous ball of anxiety) for the doctor to finish his snack. As soon as he swallowed, Yellta pounced.

“How is he Neilo, how bad is it?”

“Rodo will be fine.” Said Blusilon in a tired voice. Yellta felt a pang of guilt for not inquiring into the doctor’s own conditioned, but she did not interrupt.

“I was able to stabilize him on the flight, and that prevented the worst of his injuries from causing long term damage, and I’ve been working on him since we got back, mostly the stuff I couldn’t get to while I was focusing on his major injuries. He should be awake soon, but he’s gonna be in my care for probably a week, week and a half at most.

Yellta felt relief sweep through her, though she knew she’d only really feel better once she saw him.

“I’m so glad to hear that, Neilo, thank you so much for saving his life.”

“Again.”

“Again.” Repeated Yellta with a small laugh.

“Now we just have to hope and pray that that tin platted tyrant doesn’t zap down looking for a round two.”

Yellta suddenly remembered the message and asked: “Will he be able to travel tomorrow?”

Blusilon paused in the middle of unwrapping another energy bar. “Why in the world would he need to do that?”

Yellta told him about the message, and about how it would be held in a special room in the Capital.

“You want someone who looks like they just had a mountain dropped on him to walk into a meeting involving the fate of the world??”

“He doesn’t have to walk; a wheelchair would also be fine.” Said Yellta.

Blusilon held his head in his hands, suddenly more exhausted than he was a moment ago.

“I can’t make any promises.” Said Blusilon. “If he wakes up soon enough and if I think he can travel without complications, than I guess we don’t really have a choice, do we?”

Yellta smiled, but her teammate’s word use stirred a twinge of fear within her.

I guess we don’t really have a choice, do we?

No, I guess we don’t.

Omegazon had awoken late in the evening, groggy, sore, and thirsty, but otherwise intact.

The first thing Yellta did was give her love a fierce kiss, though she knew enough to hold herself back, lest she accidentally hurt the patient.

“I’m so glad you’re ok.” She said.

“Same here.” He said weakly, his voice strained from pain exhaustion and thirst.

Omegazon wanted nothing more than to (gently) take his love in his arms, maybe have a glass of cold water and get some sleep, but he knew there was a situation at hand.

“What happened to the Emperor? Has there been any word?”

Yellta told him about the message she had received, along with her conversation with the Executive Council.

“Has there been any other word from them?” asked Omegazon.

“Not since they told us the communication would take place at the capital. At least, any official word from them to us. The only other thing we’ve heard from the Council is when they went on the air to issue a statement. So far, they’ve managed to convince everyone that the situation is under control, and given the lack of invasion or orbital bombardment, no one seems like questioning the story.”

Before Omegazon could question Yellta further, Blusilon cleared his throat.

“All right, if you want Omegazon to go to the capital tomorrow, then he needs his rest. So do I as a matter of fact.”

A pained look crossed Yellta’s face. She clearly hadn’t expected her visit to be so short.

Even though he didn’t want her to go, Omegazon took Yellta’s hand in his own.

“The doc’s right, Ly. Go get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning, ok?”

Yellta leaned in and kissed Omegazon deeply, gave him another series of quick kisses, gave his hand a squeeze and turned to leave.

“I love you.” She said.

“I love you, too.”

With a last, longing look, Yellta left the room, the door sliding shut behind her.

The next day the team loaded themselves in to their transport to make the trip to the Capital. Omegazon had insisted on wearing one of his back up suits for the meeting, despite Blusilon wanting him to wear a more traditional patient garb. The doctor had agreed, on the condition that his patient remains in a wheelchair until the meeting and rest while Blusilon continued to work on him. By the time they reached the Executive building, Omegazon was looking better, but his face was still covered in scars, burns and bruises, and his outfit couldn’t hide the bandages he was wearing.

The team was quiet as the lift they were in took them up to the conference room. Even now, Blusilon was continuing to work on his leader, healing some of the smaller wounds. The sensation was an itchy one, and Omegazon had to resist the urge to scratch the part of his face the healer was repairing.

Omegazon had no idea what to expect when they arrived. He knew that the Emperor had selected him to be his governor, though exactly what that meant was a mystery to the hero. He was also not looking forward to seeing the Council. It wasn’t everyday that their champion and greatest hero failed.

Lost in his thoughts, Omegazon was surprised to feel someone squeeze his hand. He looked up and saw Yellta holding his hand. She lowered her face covering to give him a reassuring smile. Omegazon smiled back, wishing could say something, but was too focused on the coming meeting to think of anything.

The lift stopped near the top of the building and the doors opened to reveal a large conference room. A viewscreen took up two-thirds of the wall opposite the lift. A large table filled the center of the room, with enough chairs there for seven people to sit. Individual chairs and a couple of love seats lined both walls, giving spectators a place to sit. The Council was waiting for them, the five individuals standing tensely near the table.

At the sound of the lift arriving, the Council turned to watch the heroes file out of the lift. Omegazon wished the doc would let him out of the chair. It was one thing to see such fear and uncertainty when he was eye to eye with someone, but from his seat, he felt helpless, and worse, like a failure.

The Council moved to meet the heroes. One of the councilors extended her hand and Omegazon took it.

“I’m so sorry that you have to be here for this, Omegazon.” She said, her eyes going from one wound to the next. “It would be better if this was done after you’d had more time to recover.”

Omegazon shook the councilor’s hand and replied.

“Thank you, councilor, I appreciate the concern, but thanks to Blusilon here, I should be back in fighting shape in no time.”

“I certainly hope so.” said one of the councilors. Omegazon couldn’t read the emption in his voice or on his face and decided to move on.

“What’s the plan?” asked the hero, scanning the faces of the Council.

The councilor who had shaken Omegazon’s hand was the one who responded.

“You and the Council shall be seated at the table facing the screen. The other heroes are free to take a seat anywhere else in the room, though we ask that they refrain from interrupting or making inputs, unless you, us or the….Emperor specially speaks to them.”

Omegazon knew his teammates to know that some of them (Betarange and Veta, to be exact), would bristle at that, but he knew that this was probably for the best. Those two could be….confrontational.

“Agreed.” Said Omegazon.

“We would also like you to know that the Council had a deliberation last night. We have agreed that if the Emperor makes any kind of demand that violates the safety, health, or freedom of the people of this world, the Executive Council will reject all notions of surrender, and declare a state of war between this Empire and our world.”

Omegazon was unsure what to say to that. He had surrendered, rather than see his teammates killed, and he was dead sure that any war that broke out would most likely be extremely short and devastating for his people. After a few moments, he decided to just tell the truth.

“I can see your reasoning for this, councilors, and I do agree that those principles are indeed worth fighting for. However, I do not believe that our world is capable of driving this invader off. In fact, I doubt that the whole thing would last more than a week, if even that. I do not ask you to change your minds on this, councilors, only that very, very carefully consider what justifies an act of war.”

Now it was the Council’s turn to be stunned. Omegazon could see on a few of their faces that his bluntness and (let’s be honest), depressing outcome had cut them deep. Still, they maintained their collective composure.

“I can assure you, we have no intention of seeing our people needlessly slaughtered.” Said a deep voiced older councilor.

Somewhere in the room, small beeping sound suddenly began. One of the councilor’s pulled out a datatablet.

“Five minutes until contact.” He said.

“We’d better take our positions then.” Said the female councilor.

Omegazon slowly and gingerly stood up. His sides hurt, but they were a far cry better from yesterday, when it felt like he’d had a knife jammed in him. Yellta out a concerned hand on his arm. The feeling helped ease some of his tensions, and he took her hands in his and kissed the top of her head.

“I promise, I’ll do everything I can to ensure this ends peacefully.”

“I know you will. I love you.” She said.

“I love you, too.”

The Council and Omegazon, the greatest hero on the planet Angolis, were seated at the conference table, the Seven were seated evenly to the left and right of the table, and the triumphant conquer was on the large screen before them.

The Emperor was seated on his throne, the camera zoomed in to show his chest and up, with his hands clasped in front of him.

“Thank you all for your prompt gathering. There are a few things to go through, and I shall ensure that you are as informed as possible.

“Omegazon, as a being who stood up for the safety and defense of his world, and for showing a sense of honor, I have decided to make you the governor of this world. As the appointed governor of this world, you will be responsible for enforcing my will and ensuring that all Imperial laws and decrees are followed. There is an information network that runs to every world in the Empire that is not unlike the one you have on this world. Once it is established, you will be able to stay informed on all the occurrences within the Empire, and therefore be able to react accordingly.

“Most of the Imperial laws will no doubt be similar to your own, and so your planet should very little in that regard. Most of the laws won’t become applicable until you are more integrated in to the Imperial community.

“Speaking of the community, your place in it is equal to all other worlds, except the capital, and my homeworld, Xenlong. Xenlong is the supreme authority in matters military, judicial, executive, legislative and economical. However, very little actual oversight is required on the capital’s part, as the Empire is a well honed machine.

“As a member planet, you are responsible for paying taxes and tributes. Taxes come in the form of raw materials and goods native to your world that would benefit the greater Empire. Tributes come in the form of troops for the Imperial military. Every world is required to commit a certain number of troops, depending on the planet’s population.

“As I said before, you have become part of a much wider society. Your world should, within a standard Imperial year, which for your people would be….?”

The small robot suddenly popped up behind the Emperor.

“Three point six years, sire.” Said Delta.

“Ah, thank you, Delta. Yes, within about four years, your world should begin receiving ships from your nearest neighbors, early interested in trade, commerce and the exchanging of ideas. However, inclusion in this great Empire comes with a certain danger. My Empire is threatened by forces both large and small, and there is every chance that at some point, your world may be targeted. This is one of the many reasons why it is so important to ensure that you meet the quota for troops: for the safety of you, your neighbor worlds, and the Empire as a whole.

“Now, turning to currency…”

As the Emperor continued to speak to his most recent conquest, his bridge crew continued to work diligently, but quietly. The theatricality the Emperor had used upon his arrival to this planet was no longer necessary. While before the crew had had to wait until after first contact had been made, now they worked their various tasks, efficiently, but not so that the Emperor’s new subjects could not hear their new ruler.

One of the lights on Diamond’s consoles began to blink, and had the crew been working normally, would also have begun to beep. Diamond accessed the message.

[‡╬Priority One Mes╤╨ge f/ Xenlong Mil. HQ╫†]

The corruption in the message seemed odd to Diamond. Messages had been garbled before on this campaign, but nothing that had looked like that. He opened the message.

[†╬ERROR: Acces═╨╓ Denied: AuthorizatiФn Code Required‡╫]

Diamond in put his code.

The next second, Diamond’s world turned upside down. His sensory inputs (organic, technological, and mental) were overwhelmed and everything went dark before vertigo seized the bioorganic crewman.

The next instant, everything was perfectly normal. The readout on both Diamond’s internal sensors and his console showed that the…episode had lasted only a few seconds.

What an incredibly odd occurrence. Is there something wrong with me that my sensors haven’t detected? Perhaps I should visit the medbay after my shift.

Putting the incident out of his mind, Diamond immediately pinged Delta. The major-domo droid hovered over to the Prizmid.

“I assume this is important, Chief Communications Officer Diamond?” said Delta.

Silently, Diamond linked the message to Delta. Lights flickered across the droid’s screen, possibly in the equivalent of an organic creature’s face flushing. Diamond noticed that as the lights played out, the little bot’s usually steady hover gave way to a slight bob for just a moment.

Without a word, Delta immediately turned and hovered back to his Emperor.

“….which should have an exchange rate of twenty-eight to one, while…”

“Pardon me, sire.” Said Delta.

The Emperor turned to regard his aid, who would only interrupt something like this if it was truly important.

“My lord, we’ve found him.”

The Emperor’s eyes went wide and for a moment the daily workings of his government were forgotten.

The six Angolian’s uncertainly turned to each other, none of them certain what was going on. Before any of them could say anything, the Emperor began speaking again.

“I am afraid we shall have to cut this short. Here are the final, most important items you should know:

“Slavery, in any form, even that which is supported by government or religion, is here by abolished and outlawed. Any world found to be openly engaged in the enslavement of its own people, or another world’s shall be punished to the full extent of Imperial law.

“I understand that my presence may cause a shake up in your world’s religions. Therefore, you may worship me as a god, though I make no claims of divinity.

“This one goes to you, especially, governor. While you and your fellows shall be invested with a large amount of new powers, you are to never declare yourself higher than me. As well, sedition is not tolerated, and any world found trying to leave the Empire shall be dealt with. Severely.

“My final two items are these: an Imperial Administrator shall be departing from this ship to aid in the transition of your world into the Empire. This Administrator shall compile a report that will be presented to the Imperial Inspection Ships, who shall arrive at your world an Imperial year from now. If anything befalls this Administrator, or if your world attempts to reassert its independence, these ships are empowered to act in my stead to bring wayward new worlds back in line. Additionally, a small patrol of Imperial ships shall be assigned to your system. They shall serve as watchmen and protectors until your world becomes more integrated into the Empire.”

The Emperor leaned forward.

“There are many wonderful reasons to remain a part of this Empire, ladies and gentlemen. And just as many reasons on why defying me will only end badly.”

He leaned back again and smiled.

“Welcome to the Empire, Angolis. A bright future is before you.”

With that, the screen went dark.

The Emperor’s throne revolved away from the viewscreen that was situated in front of the bridge window, showing the planet beneath them.

“What do we know?” he asked Delta.

Delta projected the message in front of his Emperor, whose eyes quickly scanned over it. A smile appeared on his face again.

“Have the crew prepare for an announcement.” Said Xandarius, has he thoughtfully stroked his beard.

Delta activated the ship’s internal communication and announced:

“Attention, Throneship crew and passengers. His highness, Emperor Xandarius the First, the Conquer, has an announcement.”

The Emperor leaned towards his robotic assistant, who transmitted his voice throughout the ship.

“Loyal defenders of the Empire, this is your Emperor speaking. Moments ago, we received a message from the homeworld concerning the ongoing war with the Starlite Imperium. After six years, the Golden Emperor, that treacherous, sunspotted snake, has been located. As of this moment, the current campaign conquest is at an end. We shall re- supply and rearm at the nearest Imperial Military Center, after which we shall be returning to the frontline.

“It is my hope that in the coming weeks, we shall be able to end this war once and for all, and free the galaxy from the tyranny of the Golden Pretender. And I have no doubt, that each and everyone of you will give everything you can in pursuit of that peace. For Peace! For Unity! For the Empire!

Cries of “For the Empire!” rang through the ship as the occupants prepared themselves for the coming fight.

Delta terminated the transmission.

“Very inspiring, sire. Your orders?”

“Have the Administrator team prepped and departed as soon as absolutely possible. What’s the nearest Military Center?”

A brief flurry of lights.

“Tantalus Nine, sire. Approximately two weeks away at max speed.”

A shadow crossed the Emperor’s face.

“Can we be certain that we will still have that wretch’s whereabouts after two weeks?”

“Oh, yes, sire. All our evidence indicates that the false one shall be remaining on the front for the time being.”

“Excellent. Navigator! Set course for Tantalus Nine!”

A gravelly, clinking voice responded.

“At once, your majesty.”

Xandarius turned his throne back towards the window and the planet below.

“Won’t escape me this time.” Said the Emperor softly to himself. “At last, the Golden Flame shall be mine.”

An hour and a half later, a small ship, barely larger than the transport used by The Seven, descended from the belly of the massive ship orbiting Angolis. Once the ship confirmed that it had landed safety, the Throneship adjusted it’s trajectory before activating its faster-than-light engine and disappearing in a flash of brief, intense blue light.

The Administrator ship landed on the same landing pad as The Seven’s craft. The same people who had attended the conference with Emperor were assembled to greet their new overlord’s representative. They were also accompanied by a small security detail; though that seemed more a matter of habit that practicality, given the presence of the superheroes.

The departure of the ship had sent the world into speculation, and calls and messages were flooding both the Capital Building, but also the private communications of the Executive Council members and the heroes. For the moment, they were being told nothing.

A ramp from the long, blocky ship descended in a hiss of hydraulics. Four soldiers marched down the ramp, all holding their weapons at arms. Their armor consisted of a black undersuit with hard, but flexible gray armor covering the torso, shins, forearms and shoulders, with a full, face covering gray helmet that featured a black visor. On their right breast they each bore a symbol of a stylized, circular black dragon. Three of the soldiers were humanoid, while one was a six-limbed being who had a humanoid torso on top of a quadruped lower half.

As the soldiers stood at attention, a tall figure in a totally body covering yellow suit with black gloves and boots, and a black utility belt and a single, opaque “porthole” viewing glass, appeared. The figure walked down the ramp toward the assembled group. It stopped just short of them and fumbled around in a pocket on its suit. Expecting an atmospheric scanner, or a telepathic translator device, the Angolans were a little surprised when the figure withdrew a simple cloth from its pocket and wiped its viewing glass.

“Ah, that’s better.” Rasped the slim, snouted, purple creature.

The Administrator reached into another pocket and this time produced a small, metallic device that struck Omegazon as looking an awful lot like a datapad.

“My name is Administrator Raksh. Welcome to the Empire!”

He handed the device to Omegazon. As soon as he took it, the screen lit up and displayed a message:

The Newcomers Guide to the Empire