I stood with the Generals in the Tristow’s Command. I admired the quiet efficiency of the room. The large overhead screen displayed the two exile ships; they had moved and were silhouetted against a whirling red column.

I asked, “Can you enlarge the image?”

General Chisisi turned and called out, “Magnify coordinates eleven-four-five by thirty, sixteen through twenty-four.”

The image enlarged; I could see details of the two cargo ships drifting in front of the red storm, the larger vessel faced us with its docking port exposed. Lightning flashed along the column, and the two ships turned momentarily dark. I turned and walked to the glass wall while the Generals spoke among themselves.

The runway below held our remaining fighters, many still in disrepair. I folded my arms and watched the mechanics swarming over them. I thought what all of us thought. If the Alhii ships could trace the King’s code, it was possible that the enemy might, as well. I turned back to the Generals.

I said, “I would like to hail the Aljara.”

The Aljara was the smaller of the two ships. The Great Lady and Imabelai had been placed on the Aljara. It had been more than thirty revolutions since the exile. What might have transpired on the ships was unknown.

“We are ready, Your Majesty,” said Cedetra.

I turned from my musing and approached the node. Uncertain of my words, I cleared my throat and looked between the Generals. I was encouraged by their deferential nods. I reached out and tapped the pad.

“I hail the Aljara,” said I. “I am Jeez. Address the King.”

I tapped the pad again and looked among the Generals as we listened to the silence. Our patience was tempered with a battle-wary caution. I was prepared to make a second hail when static issued from the amplifier. A voice followed.

“This is the Aljara. Jeez . . .”

What we heard was not the slurred voice of the Alhii. We heard a Huim voice, a female voice. The voice was strained and anxious. Many revolutions had passed, yet, I could recognize the voice of my sister. I reached to tap the pad, but my wrist was gripped in the hand of General Taush.

“Proceed with caution,” he said.

I was alarmed enough; the General’s words made me afraid. I reclaimed my wrist, noting the insistence in the General’s hardened eyes, yet, before I could reach again for the pad, static returned. A raspy, demanding voice captured our attention.

The Alhii said, “Huim for food. Two turns.”

That was the end of the communication. The demand was stark in its finality. I turned to the Generals and said, “Tell me everything I need to know about the exile ships.”

With a shrug, Eesho said, “The Jarjatra was predominantly cycle ten and above. The Aljara was predominantly nine and below. The council of Elders decided to exile a number of grays with the Alhii. Some were placed on both ships.” 

I mused, “The situation seems dire.”

Cedetra said, “With depleted food stores, the Alhii nature will turn on anything that is edible.”

Karnac said, “Let us hope they had a taste for grays.”

I asked, “Do we have a shuttle left?”

“Several,” answered Taush.

I turned to him and said, “Take us within range of the Aljara and give me a shuttle.”

Cedetra said, “I would rather not.”

I stepped close to him and replied, “If I can touch the outer hull, I can assess the situation. This is not a request.”

The Generals saluted. Taush took me down to the runway and led me to a shuttle. It was banged up and scratched, but serviceable. Taush took the controls and navigated to an empty space near the airlock. Outside the shuttle, lights spun and sirens wailed. Service personnel attached us to the tracks that would pull us inside the chamber. Taush spoke with control, then turned in his seat as I removed my robe and rolled my trouser legs down past my calves.

Taush said in a mildly chiding voice, “Once a farmer.”

The rumbling voice of General Karnac filled the shuttle. “We are in position.”

The shuttle entered the airlock and the heavy door slid into place. Lights inside the airlock stopped spinning red and turned green. The outer door slid silently open, exposing the Esthos. Taush took us out. As the shuttle swung about, I looked through the front view and saw the Aljara. We moved along the length of it as we headed for the docking port on the far end. Our shuttle was dwarfed in comparison. Nearing the far end, our shuttle began to shake. I could hear the engine strain as Taush fought for control.

The General shouted in alarm, “A storm column is forming nearby.”

I could hear it roar as our vibrating hull relayed the energy. For a small craft, we were too close. The strain on the shuttle was enormous. Lighting flashed and struck the Aljara, and the shuttle alarms sounded.

Karnac’s voice shouted into the shuttle cabin. “Turn back! You are being drawn in!”

“Continue,” I shouted.

Taush raised his voice above the din. “I will take us up and over to the opposite side, but you must hurry, Your Majesty.”

I stood anxiously by the shuttle hatch. I could feel the bump of colliding ships. The door slid back and the hull of the Aljara was before me. I reached out, touched the hull, and summoned the foresight I had gained from father’s memories. I saw the interior. Imabelai stood before the port hatch in chains. Hidden to either side of the hatch, Alhii crouched with crudely fashioned spears and knives. My sight raced through the ship; the anterior chambers were a bone-littered horror.

I acted without hesitation. I shifted into the Aljara, touched Imabelai, and shifted back to the shuttle. I shifted again into the Aljara, touched the two remaining women, and shifted out. I knew as I closed the shuttle hatch that the Aljara was tumbling into the storm column. Our proximity to the cargo vessel meant that we would follow. I closed my eyes and placed both palms against the shuttle walls. I held my breath and concentrated until something popped in my head. Light and sound faded.

When my eyes opened, the first thing to register was the ceiling above me. As my senses returned, I realized that I was lying on my bed. I turned my head and looked around my apartment. Had I passed out? I noticed a clear tube running from my arm up to a clear bag fastened to the top of a synthetic rod. The fluid inside was nearly depleted.

I struggled to a sitting position and took a deep breath. I was back, but had I brought the others with me? I pulled the needle from my arm and let it drop. Just then, 43S7 entered, his arms filled with scanning devices. He stopped and stared; I knew he would fuss.

“Lord Jaizu,” said 43S7 sternly. “You should be lying down.”

I replied to his irritation. “I’m fine. Go ahead; scan me.”

The scan bore me out. 43S7 rolled his head in vexation, gathered his equipment, and left. I could hear him speak from the other room. “Call me when the illness is genuine.”

I called from my bed, “GM.”

“Your Majesty,” came the response.

“Where are Imabelai and the two women I rescued?”

The GM answered, “They are presently being detained aboard the Tristow.”

I changed clothing and rolled my pant legs up. I chose a clean robe and tied a gold-colored rope about my waste. I stood combing my hair, wondering what I might say to my sister. I had acted quickly, but I recalled the fear in her eyes. I recalled her brutally cropped hair, and I recalled the soiled rags that barely hid her flesh. I laid the comb aside and shifted to the Tristow. I found the Generals in the situation room and patiently received their praise.

Taush said, “I am not surprised to see you well.”

I said, “Tell me of the exile ships.”

“Right,” said Eesho. “The Aljara was destroyed. The column failed to form completely; it is now gone. The Jarjatra is stable.” 

Karnac said, “We have recalibrated. We shall be warned of forming storm columns in a timely manner.”

“Good,” I said. “We will deal with the Jarjatra in time. For now, I would like to speak with my sister.”

The room they were held in was small; the air was soured by the filthy rags they wore. I stood at the open door and felt sad at the sight of them. How they must have suffered! The look of fear was still in their eyes, but as Imabelai turned her face from me, I noted shame. It was not time to speak; I turned and closed the door, calling a guard to me.

I said, “Provide them with an apartment and clean apparel. Have 43S7 stand ready. I will send a written note to the women.”

The guard saluted and left; one guard remained. I turned my eyes to General Taush and asked, “All the women were exiled to the Aljara?”

Taush answered me. “The Jarjatra contains only the Alhii and grays.”

He wished not to say that my mother was dead; it was something we all knew. I knew it in my heart, but I felt compelled to ask. Mother had been eaten; I dared not imagine. The truth of it had tumbled into the storm column. Taush and I began our walk back to the Command Tower. Along the way, Taush broached the topic of the Jarjatra.

“What should we do with the Jarjatra?” he asked. “They have hailed, but we have not answered.” He continued beside me in silence as I considered the issue.

I answered, “Their return adds to us. I think we should bring them back. Discuss the matter quietly among the Generals and make a recommendation.”

“As you command,” Taush replied.

I shifted to my apartment and composed a note for Imabelai. After dispatching the note with a guard, I returned to my room and sat on my couch. I soon stretched out and closed my eyes. I considered my life as Prince and King and saw a sad string of poor choices. I made mistakes. My proud fleet was no more. In its place, there was a limping, pathetic creature, beaten, sore, and fearful. In my mind’s eye, it seemed to all be summed up in Imabelai’s crudely cropped hair.

I was awakened by alarms issuing loudly. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “Report!” I said.

The GM answered. “Ships are appearing in the Esthos. General Cedetra has placed the fleet on high alert.”

With many of our fighters under repair, we had only the canons of the warships with which to defend. We were not in a good position. I shifted immediately to the Tristow Command Tower. The Generals huddled beneath the large screen while the efficient crew manned their stations. A sense of urgency filled the room. I stood behind the Generals, looking at an empty screen.

I asked, “What is our present situation?”

Using a hand remote, Eesho placed a green circle over an otherwise empty view. “They are far away,” he said, “grouped in a tight formation. There are approximately twenty-six ships.”

Karnac said, “We have noted no activity. They are just sitting there.”

“Do they see us?” I asked.

General Chisisi answered. “If their sensors are facing away from us, no. Still, they have followed the King’s code; they must know we are here.”

Taush said, “We are at full magnification. Unless one of us hails, we can not determine their identity.”

I said to the Generals, “Let them make the first move. Continue your preparations. Protect the fleet.”

The Generals walked among the stations and snapped orders while I stood before the screen, my eyes on the empty green marker. The warships quickly took a protective position between our huddled ships and the Alhii exile ship. Our canons were ready; our two working fighters were sent out and placed on the blind side of the cargo ship. All we could do was wait.

With the exception of General Taush, the Generals took stations in the Command; General Taush returned to stand by my side. I looked back from Taush to the screen and saw the green circle move slightly to the right.

Taush spoke calmly beside me. “They are beginning to move.”

Static came briefly across our amplifiers and disappeared. Taush moved to a console and worked around the stationed angel. Static came again, louder than before. With it came a small uncertain voice.

“Hello. Hello,” called the distant voice. “Bha Huda here. We are in some difficulties.”

Taush spoke. “This is the Tristow, General Taush speaking. Send your ship code.”

“Yes, of course,” answered Bha Huda. There was a brief pause in transmission, then a laugh. “Sending now. I am so happy to be found.”

An angel called clearly, “Code verified.”

Taush commanded, “Transfer to GM guidance.”

There was wavering static, muffled voices, then, Bha Huda said, “We are transferring.”

An angel called from his station. “Information is coming in. Damage reported on three ships.”

I turned to General Taush. “Call me when you are done. I will meet with Bha Huda.”

I shifted to my apartment and sat before my node. I took a breath and massaged my eyes. My thought was more ships, more workers. The node chimed softly. I tapped it on and found a simple text from Wiznchour. It read Way Forward Open.