I felt less like a King and more like an object to be protected. I stood in General Taush’s situation room with my guards close. The halls outside were filled with armed angels. General Taush stood in heated conversation with General Oritall. The wall screen above their heads snapped between images of fleet readiness. Our ships had adopted a more condensed formation, and fighters sat hidden in blind spots.

The Generals walked around the table and stopped before me. Their expressions were deadly serious. I knew they were going to hide me away somewhere to keep me safe, but I felt like they would do everything in their power to make me ineffectual. What could I do? Nod and agree, but I was determined not to be trapped in their protection.

Oritall said gravely, “We must assume the worst. The enemy is closing.”

Taush said, “When they attack, they will know their mistake.”

Oritall said to my guards, “Take the King to his residence. Take your pick of the angels, and guard the King with your lives.”

I was immediately whisked away. Seven angels fell under the command of Khamuel and Barachiel. I was placed in my room with two of the angels guarding my door. Barachiel and Khamuel coordinated with the remaining five to secure the inhabitants on my ship. Between Thusa, and Hope, there were thousands. My angels were armed to the teeth and fifteen fighters waited silently behind my ship. I paced anxiously in my apartment until my patience cracked down the middle.

I opened a channel to Oobulublay. “Try to find a way to bring Zotha to me,” I demanded.

He answered, “All trees and shuttles are under military rule. I will place a call.”

I opened a  direct channel to Zotha’s apartment but got no answer. I considered that she might have been moved to one of the protective clusters. I paced angrily; I should have made arrangements for Zotha at a more convenient moment. Then I remembered Nimrod. I ran back to my node only to find it unresponsive.

“GM,” I called aloud.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” was the unruffled reply.

“My node has failed,” I complained.

The GM answered. “Civilian communications have been terminated under Marshal Command.”

The more I felt squeezed and shut off, the angrier I became. I had no time for impotence. I shifted to my control bubble and opened a direct line under the King’s personal command code. The channel went directly to the individual’s ear amplifier.

“Wiznchour,” I called solemnly.

“Your Majesty?” he stammered back.

I said in my official voice, “That matter we spoke of; do it now.”

He answered with clear conviction, “It will be ready within a quarter turn.”

I ended the connection and sat back in my seat. I looked out through the bubble at the new fleet formation. My Seed Ship was among the home ships, sitting in a tight bundle behind the protective gauntlet of our military barricade. We were close enough that I could see the shapes of the ships. As massive as they were, they seemed small to me. They seemed vulnerable. I considered shifting to find Zotha, but I had no clue of her location. Then a voice came from my bubble amplifier.

“What are you up to?” asked the impertinent voice.

Startled, I demanded, “Who is this?”

The intruder answered my question, asking, “You don’t recognize the voice of your brother?”

Incredulous, I asked, “LUC?”

There was a small self-indulgent laugh before he answered. “I’m coming for you. I’m coming for my throne.”

I said, “I suggested you to father.”

“You did one thing well,” replied LUC. “It is good that father died. Saves me the bother of killing him. Still, I suppose I’ll get nearly as much satisfaction in killing you.”

I was aghast. “You sound so hateful,” I said. Stammering. My brother’s words confused and hurt me. I asked, “Why would you kill me? What have I ever done to you?”

LUC answered, “You turned from my love to lesser beings. Do you know what we do with monkeys on my world? They are either labor or food. The giants are especially fond of them.”

I gasped in utter disbelief. I cried out in agony, “No!” The evil in my brother’s voice was chilling.

The laughter that came from my brother made me want to cry. How had he become so vile? LUC stopped laughing, and his voice burned like acid. “I will kill you, brother. Be sure of that. I will destroy every soul that rejects my love. Watch how I destroy your warships.”

I leaned forward and strained to see. I looked into the black space where our barricade was positioned. Dark space hid them from me, but I saw them in my mind’s eyes. Suddenly, I saw a small bright flash and my heart sank. LUC had fired on us. I imagined one of my ships exploding outward into the void. No roiling fire or trailing smoke littered my thoughts, just a bright flash as the oxygen ignited. A bright and quickly depleted flash of light behind scattering debris and lost souls.

Then, I saw twelve flashes. Some were close, some were far. The war had begun, and I was frozen in place, unable to tear my eyes from the quick exchange. The dark vaults of space were brightened with another round of silent screams. I estimated the second round had destroyed some fifty ships, but I could not tell one light from another. LUC was firing on our armada, and our generals were firing back. I was wholly unprepared for destruction on such a scale.

I jumped in my seat when Wiznchour called to me. “Your Majesty. It is time.”

I inhaled, gathering my wits. I shifted to Nimrod's apartment and stretched out my hands. One hand fell one Wiznchour, the other touched the tree that held Nimrod. I shifted to my garden beyond the falls, where Wiznchour dropped the bundle of Nimrod’s armor. We quickly pulled the tree to the wall and began the frantic placement of cables. We needed to hurry to ensure Nimrod’s survival, and at times, we stumbled over one another. Then we were done; I touched Wiznchour and shifted to my apartment.

Wiznchour spoke immediately, his voice strained. “I should be with my brothers.”

My answer was just as strained. “The warships are being destroyed. Go to your home ship. Prepare to jump.”

I shifted to the dome and started the engine in preparation for retreat. I was startled by a nearby flash. When I looked up, I saw our fighters racing to intercept enemy fighters. A startling volley of shots was exchanged, and fighters from both sides exploded before my eyes. I was horrified. I touched the pad that raised the alarm among our home ships, an alarm that signaled retreat.

Our retreat was a preset course to the new seed world, set long before our current emergency. Our course, it seemed ill-advised at the moment, but I wanted nothing more than to take my people away from the fight. I wished to hurry the fleet to a safe place. Would I find more of my brother’s forces waiting in ambush? Possible, yet I could not sit still. I looked out through the dome. To my right, I saw ships jump through a haze of mist and light. To my horror, I also saw ships opening in balls of bright fire. Ruptures in hulls spread slowly, venting souls.

I looked to my left; the Throne Ship was bleeding atmosphere into space. Then all disappeared as the Seed Ship jumped. Time displacement made space shimmer with iridescent colors, but I found no joy in it. My heart beat painfully, and my head ached, as I searched my memories for an answer to the possibility that I was leading my people into an ambush. I tried to recall what I had been taught, but my mind was as blank as the space around my ship.

Then, I recalled the material Olol had sent me. There was a command override. The override stopped time displacement so that all forward momentum dropped statically into the Esthos. Certain that we were closer to the new seed world than I wanted to be, I shifted to the GUF and slid open the back panel. I only needed to enter the King’s override code, but the King’s mind went blank. I shouted my frustration; time was running out.

“Think!” I commanded myself. “Think!”

Father’s voice came to me then, spelling out the code, “B-L-O-O-D-8-8-8.”

Input letters and numbers were red. With a soft chime, they turned green. I fell back against the wall, my hand to my chest, and exhaled. I stared at the green code and took a breath. I looked up between the wall and the GUF. I covered my eyes and let relief wash over me. I couldn’t make up my mind whether to laugh for the souls I had brought to the Esthos or to cry for the souls I had left behind.

I whispered quietly, “Thank you, father.”

When I shifted to the dome, I got my first look at the Esthos. It was red, not just one red, but all reds. They shifted, moving slowly between the color of fallen leaves and the color of black, dried blood. I saw spinning columns that reached between unbelievable heights and impossible depths. Then, I looked around at my ships. Sadly, I counted only thirty-nine. I was on the verge of tears. We had been reduced, in moments, from a mighty armada to a handful of cowering souls.

Lightning flashed from a distant column. It jumped into the impossible heights and fell the length of a column further away. I turned my eyes back to my ships. The strange lighting of the Esthos affected each differently. Some of the older molecular ships reflected lights from their silver hulls in a dizzying manner. Newer atomic matrix ships, with their white hulls, seemed brown, orange, and pink. Their close proximity and bulging hulls were a sight new to my eyes.

A distant flash caught my eyes, and as I turned to it, I saw the small silhouette of a dreadnought. As my eyes focused on the new arrival, five more warships appeared. I spun in my seat, looking for more ships, counting under my breath as I saw them filter through the misty light of time dilation. I cannot tell you how happy I was for the appearance of each new ship. As I laughed, I wiped tears from my eyes.

A light flashed on my console; I touched it. A harried voice came through the amplifier, urgent in its command. “I need eyes on the King!” It was the voice of General Taush.

How does a man laugh and cry at the same time? That is what I did. I wiped my eyes and shook my head. Then, I took a deep breath and answered.

“General Taush, I am well. Please tree to the Seed Ship.”

I met him by the GUF and hugged him unabashedly. He pulled free and stated in a strained voice, “We must assess our losses.”

“Yes, of course,” I answered, my mind immediately turning to Zotha.

Taush hung his head, and with guilt in his voice, he confessed, “I lost Oritall.”

I understood that General Oritall was his mentor. I lowered my face in grief and respect. My door guards ran into the room, alarmed by voices, then stopped and stood at attention. Simultaneously, Khamuel and Barachiel stepped from the lift and saluted. Khamuel spoke immediately.

“General,” He said. “Your orders.”

Taush looked up with steeled resolve. “Assess our losses,” he commanded sharply. “Run diagnostics on all ships. Take these,” he said with a nod toward the door guards. “Coordinate with General Cedetra on the Transphar for new defensive parameters.”

The four angels snapped a salute and dutifully departed. Taush turned to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. As he studied my face, I could only guess at his thoughts. Then he spoke.

“You did well,” said Taush, looking directly into my eyes. I opened my mouth to confess my trepidation, but he said, “Your quick thinking saved lives. Our warships tracked your signal and followed.”

I asked, “What about the enemy?”

The General turned and looked into the GUF. “Oritall had tasked his crew with negating the trackers on the enemy ships. Then,” his voice trailed away and left the sentence unfinished. Suddenly, he turned back to me and said, “Take me to your dome.”

General Taush sat in my chair making adjustments to my console settings. I watched him as I stood on the ladder gripping the rail. He sat back and swiveled slowly to view what was left of the fleet. He set the amplifier to listen in on fleet chatter. I climbed down and sat on the floor, hugging my knees. I heard the General speaking in the dome, giving commands. At least he could act; I was stunned.

Taush climbed down and stood silently before me. I looked up to find him with his head bowed. Suddenly, I had a lump in my throat. Adrenalin flooded my bloodstream so that I was on fire. I struggled to my feet and faced the General, knowing the news could not be good.

I trembled as I spoke. “General.” I could say no more.

Taush looked up, his jaw clenched. “Your Majesty, “ he said. “We lost the Mezradine.”

My heart sank; I fell to my knees and gasped. The Mezradine was Zotha’s home ship.