Jon Messenger: Purge of Prometheus

“He’s lying!” Keryn screamed into the open room, startling Wyck, who still stood at the radio. She stormed over to him, pushing the Uligart out of the way. Pushing the transmit button, she yelled into the radio. “I know you’re lying, you bastard! Do you hear me, Yen? I know you’re lying!”

A calm voice replied. “Keryn, I feel absolutely terrible about your loss, but as Tylgar already told you…”

“Don’t give me your political crap!” she interrupted. “I know you killed him and I promise you, if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll make you pay for this!”

“Such hostility, Keryn,” Yen chided. “It’s painful when someone you love is gone, isn’t it?”

Keryn slammed her fist down on the microphone, cracking its casing. Tears of both anger and sorrow streamed down her face. “The son of a bitch is lying!”

“Of course he is,” Iana consoled, placing her arm around Keryn. “The question is: what are we going to do about it?”

Keryn wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Her eyes burned from the tears, but now a new fire had been ignited within her. “I know exactly what I’m going to do.”

She pushed away from Iana and stormed out of the control room. As she staggered down the hall, her mind alight with ideas, Keryn pushed past the crew of the Ballistae who cheered wildly at their victory. Though many tried to pull her into their revelry, their joy couldn’t penetrate her enveloping sadness and thoughts of revenge.

Finally reaching her room, Keryn opened the door and rushed over to the computer console. Typing in a now familiar code, the symbol of High Council appeared on the screen. Knowing she looked terrible, Keryn didn’t care. She waited impatiently for the red recording symbol to appear in the corner of the screen. When it did, she began her brief but important message.

“I’ve changed my mind,” she stated matter-of-factly. “I’m in. But if we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it my way.”

Yen retreated to his quarters as the other remaining ships in the Fleet tended to the surrendered Terran Destroyers. He had wanted to rest, after exerting himself so much during the battle, but an urgent message from High Council took priority. Safely inside his room, he sat down before his console and entered his command code. The screen shifted from black and a red symbol emerged on the monitor. Yen was surprised to note the small annotation at the bottom of the screen. The call from High Council was being fed to his console live. For the first time in his career, Yen would personally speak to High Council.

The screen slowly faded to reveal six elderly figures sitting around a horseshoe shaped table. From their elevated positions, they seemed to look down upon the seated Yen. Nervously, Yen cleared his throat.

“Captain Xiao,” an elderly Uligart began. “We would like to begin by congratulating you on an exceptional victory in the name of the Alliance. Thanks to your diligence, the Alliance has won a decisive victory over the Terrans, one that will result in the final destruction of the Terran Empire.”

“Thank you for your kind words, Councilmember,” Yen replied, humbled by their personal attention.

“I think it’s safe to tell you,” continued the Oterian Councilmember, “that you are being recommended for some of the highest decorations available to the Alliance. You will truly be forever remembered for the personal accomplishments and sacrifices you made for the Alliance.”

“My accomplishments aside,” Yen added, “I could not have defeated so great an adversary as the Terran Fleet without the support of a number of valiant ships, many of whom were destroyed in the war.”

“Yes,” a gravelly voice issued from behind the stoic mask of the Lithid Councilmember, “it was a great loss of life. All those who gave the ultimate sacrifice during the war will be forever immortalized in our records. But your victory is by no means the end of the conflict. As you recover from your combat, billions of lives are at stake on artificially frozen worlds. It is our understanding that your Fleet has procured a counteragent to the Deplitoxide threat. Is this correct?”

“That is correct, Councilmember,” Yen replied flatly. “We do have a counteragent, one that was used effectively to help us win the war against the Terran Fleet.”

“We knew as much,” the Lithid said smartly. “We have need of that counteragent throughout the known universe. It must be delivered at once, lest all of our species perish along with the Terrans. Perhaps you could send some of your ships to assist?”

Yen sat staring at the screen. The Lithid Councilmember had inadvertently given him a way out of two difficult situations.

“Councilmembers, I believe I have a solution that can work best for all parties involved,” he began, chancing a faint smile. “During the most recent combat, Captain Riddell lost someone who she loved deeply. I fear that this loss has affected her profoundly. In my professional opinion as Commander of the Fleet, I don’t believe the best place for her is in command of a warship.”

“Would you delegate her to a research vessel, primarily tasked to restarting the suns of Alliance space?” the Pilgrim Councilmember asked. “It’s a damning assignment for a Captain to be demoted to a more menial task of serving as commander of a scientific vessel.”

“I understand your concern,” Yen stated, “but I know my concerns for her continuing mental and physical well-being. Should she remain amidst the Fleet, I fear that it’s only a matter of time before she becomes a detriment to herself and others. I’m concerned that her outbursts could eventually bring her to harm.”

The Councilmembers muted their radios and discussed amongst themselves. The elderly figures argued for some time before activating their microphones again.

“We have agreed to your recommendation,” the Avalon Councilmember finally answered. “Once our conversation is completed with you, we will notify the Ballistae that it’s been reassigned for an indefinite period of time.”

“I thank you for your consideration and concern for one of my Captains,” Yen said cynically. “I don’t know how I would react should she come to harm.”

“With that business behind us, Captain,” the Wyndgaart Councilmember stated, “we have another mission which requires immediate attention. Though we have defeated the Empirical government on Earth and destroyed the Fleet, the Terran Premier has still eluded our grasp. If he were to remain alive, he would become a figurehead around which a new underground movement would form. Instead of fighting in open warfare, we would be reduced to fighting guerilla conflicts on backwater planets against fanatical enemies. He cannot be allowed to live.”

“Have we located his safe house?” Yen asked, feeling the excitement build within him.

“One of the captured Terran Captains betrayed his location while under the influence of the Crown,” the Wyndgaart stated. “We are compiling a strike force now that will eliminate the last Terran threat to the Alliance.”

Yen raised his head confidently. “Councilmembers, I would like to volunteer to lead the expedition. I have proven myself time and again both as a ground and aerial tactician. My unique skill set will be invaluable for an assault of this magnitude.”

Again, the High Council muted their microphones as they went into deep conversation. Yen couldn’t hear their words, nor would his psychic powers help him over a console. Instead, he sat impatiently as he watched the Councilmembers debate his request. Finally, they leaned back in their seats and reactivated their microphones.

“We have examined the pros and cons of your request, Captain Xiao,” the elderly Wyndgaart stated. “We’ve decided to grant your request. I’m redirecting the assets for this mission to the Revolution . An emissary will arrive soon with specialized equipment for your mission. Once he arrives with the rest of your team, I’ll expect you to depart immediately. The journey to the Premier’s location will take less than a day, but he’ll be aware of the Terran Fleet’s defeat. You’ll have to move quickly to ensure he doesn’t escape.”