A Universe of Change: By Candlelight-Defiance

Part VI

(by Rens)

Imperial City, Centauri Prime

"Who in the name of all sixty gods is that woman?" he continued to curse. Denarri glared around at the men staring back at him in the underground war room. He slammed a table top. "Somebody tell me! Who—what is House Laucine?"

Durano was already moving, literally rushing to his computer station to input his Intelligence Ministry security clearance codes. Files appeared on the computer screen, its light shining on Durano's impassive face. No one else could see what he was reading. Subtle amusement dawned on his face as Durano read the information. He shut the computer screen down and stood up.

"Regent, it seems that the last time there's any mention of House Laucine was – ironically – during the Centauri-Orieni War. They fought in the war but took advantage of it to establish its power over some worlds from its main base on Correntz. It was one of the treasonous houses that the Royal Navy was forced to exterminate in the aftermath of that war, and the following civil war." He looked up at his leader. "Clearly, someone escaped."

"Okay, so Laucine is a renegade House that survived the Rafani Dynasty's reprisals. What is it?"

"It was," Durano emphasized the verb, reflecting his personal belief that such old information may not be the same as could be applied today. "…an ancient royal house dedicated to the destruction of the Republic and all of its supporters."

The room had suddenly gone silent. "Unconfirmed reports show that the Laucines worship dark terrible gods that are not part of any Centauri pantheon and that they sometimes sacrificed sentient beings in rituals designed to feed those gods. The House was a death cult. Which fits what this Lanfir said, I might add."

Now Denarri was confused. "If those gods are the Sinhindrea, how could the Laucines know of them? I was told that the last time the Sinhindrea came into this universe was millions of years ago, before we achieved sentience on Home world."

"It's possible that the Sinhindrea are not the gods that Laucine worshipped two hundred years ago and Lady Lanfir adapted her pantheon to the aliens when they came. There's a theory that these 'gods' inhabit another dimension and their influences bled through into our universe to effect certain vulnerable individuals. Perhaps the first Sinhindrea invasion left…impressions despite whatever the Vorlons did to stop them. Perhaps in a few places, the membranes between universes have been thin since the Vorlons' war against them." Durano shrugged as if it was all academic to him. "From time to time, we hear of stories of odd happenings at the Courtor System and with the recorded disappearance of the Federation warship Voyager and the Klingon vessel and the Minbari ship through some unknown doorway, for a lack of a better term, we have proof. It would not surprise me if House Laucine has a base at Courtor, if indeed this Lanfir shares the same lineage as the Laucines we exterminated. Perhaps they have been hiding out there since their loss of Correntz."

"They should have continued hiding," Denarri growled.

He was uneasy at that. He knew that the Sinhindrea aliens had been continually probing Courtor, apparently obsessed trying to find that dimensional opening. Now, what he was hearing implied that the Sinhindrea had collaborators in this universe, impossible as that was. Oh, there were unwitting agents like that Minbari war-leader he heard about, the one called Shakiri, but agents who knowingly assisted the Sinhindrea? That count not be condoned!

Durano continued. "At any rate, House Laucine was not the only death cult known in the Imperial Secret Service files. Similar secret death cults exist among the other races, like the Abbai Bauline Trilogy, the Brakiri Dagohn's Chosen, the Drazi Tek'rakkan Monks, the pak'ma'ra Ftaghn Po'ka, the Human Eyes of Azathoth, Yoggite Principles and the Red Masks of Vice-Ares. It's not clear but it's highly possible that a cult exists among even the Minbari, called Muar'ul. They are all small and all fatalists. The description of their gods appears similar to the Sinhindrea. They believe that the galaxy would one day be scoured clean of all life. There are hundreds of different rationalizations for this worship. Some hold that the only way all creatures could be truly equal was in death. Others believe in some great paradise that awaits them after death, better and much more universal than any and all of the heavens and paradises that believers normally hope for. Some even believe they would be spared and that only the non-believers would die."

Again, Durano shrugged as Denarri and the others listened with faint distaste and horror. "If these gods are indeed the Sinhindrea, then they deluded them. As far as I'm aware, their governments and most of their people are ignorant of these cults. We knew only because Laucine became overt in the last days of the Orieni War and much more so in the civil war after that. The Imperial Secret Service took decades to investigate. Many agents died to bring us this information."

Denarri nodded, trying to process the information. "And we are also fools for believing that we have no such cults of death. We believed that the Laucines all died, but this Lady Lanfir proves that we're wrong."

"Now House Laucine has announced its existence and power," Dromo said, "He pointed at the viewers showing some ships gathering into a group around Lady Lanfir's ship, the Pazuzu. "These House ships have declared for Lanfir. And the Sinhindrea will soon be finished with the Orieni."

Indeed, they could see the remainder of the Orieni fleet still fighting – and being slaughtered by the Sinhindrea. There were no more Rogolon ships left and only a couple Red Monk cruisers covered the defenses of the few remaining Orieni warships.

Denarri gritted his teeth. "Destroy them. Kill them all. But do it quickly before the traitors distract us too much."

The Albius:

Sela felt like laughing. Whether it was her people or aliens, people were always seriously flawed, and the Centauri were no different. It was either laugh or cry. Much as people preferred to think, the universe was not all black and white but the truth of it was that it was all shades of grey. She had heard it said that Romulans were predictably treacherous. Well, the same could be said of Centauri. Why, they even gave it a name! The Great Game, or the Game of Houses.

In the Imperial War College on Romulus, one of her instructors told the class that included Sela that it may help to understand mortal affairs by remembering that most of the great triumphs and tragedies of history were caused not by people being fundamentally good or bad, but by people being fundamentally people. In other words, the battle between Good and Evil was first waged within the mortal heart by the decisions that people made. Most Romulans instinctively understood this whereas many races didn't which was a weakness that the Star Empire would eventually use to conquer the Federation and everyone else...

'…If it survived' she thought soberly. The Borg had decimated Romulus, turned it into a mere shadow of what they were. Voyager's details of the war at home had not been encouraging. But there was nothing she could do about that. Only mildly surprised, she realized that she truly hoped that the Federation would help them in the war.

But she did remember what her teacher's point.

"The problems of a heart in conflict with itself makes for good writing because only that is worth writing about, worth the agony and the sweat," he had drilled into them.

Sela would prefer all that agony and sweat be foisted off onto other people, not her. The universe was but shades of grey, except for the Sinhindrea, of course. They were a black as the universe and it was absolutely clearly they required extermination with all due prejudice. The consequences of letting them win included an orgy of death and extinction for an entire galaxy and beyond. While Sela might not have cared much about the locals, there was no way to go back home to Romulus – or what was left of it she reminded herself – and she was stuck here. Not for the first time, she cursed those aliens the locals called First Ones for their cowardice. If they had all stayed and pooled their powerful advanced fleets with the armed fleets of the local races, they'd had a chance to stop and destroy the Sinhindrea before they could spread too far. As it was, she and the locals had only themselves.

How Romulan that was.

The good thing about this pause in battle was that the three surviving Firebird cruisers in Sela's squadron were able to fight again. The Albius, Pontius and Lubato all had made quick repairs.

"Admiral, orders from the Regent. Destroy the Laucine ships and the Sinhindrea." The lieutenant paused as he read new orders on his computer screen. "Lord-General Marrago is ordering the Firebirds to take care of the Laucine ships. Most of the rest of the fleet will fight the enemy."

Sela nodded. That made sense. As the most advanced warships available in the Grand Fleet, they could make short work of the Laucines. Most of the other ships were either too exhausted or too equal with the cruisers hijacked by Lady Lanfir and her followers.

"Shields up. Arm disruptors. Load missile tubes. Lay in a direct course for the Pazuzu."

The Centauri bridge crew went about their tasks to follow Admiral Sela's orders.

The three Firebirds broke formation and turned to accelerate deep into the Grand Fleet, their sharp noses aimed directly at the grouping of House ships that had declared for Lady Lanfir. They bypassed other Centauri ships in the fleet which now began to advance toward the Sinhindrea once more. Several other House ships moved to join Sela's squadron to punish the Laucines.

Already, weapons fire was being exchanged between the Laucines and other House ships. On the main viewscreen, Sela could see the twin crescent moons of House Ardo, the red jewel and gold rays of House Mollari, the clenched white-gloved fist of House Varga, and the four white circling birds of House Orestes on the ships moving to oppose the Laucine ships.

Soon, plasma bolts splashed on the Albius' shields. They came from the nearest Laucine ship which was an Aquila-class destroyer. A disruptor beam lanced out in answer, spearing the Aquila's engine section. A small antimatter missile followed it into the gash in the hull, ripping the destroyer apart with explosions.

That action apparently woke the Laucine ships to the threat posed by Sela's ships. They moved to intercept them even as the other House ships pounded them with their weapons. Four Laucine Vorchans spat plasma bolts which splashed on Vorchier shields. At the same time, the Vorchans opened a panel on the underside of their head. Guided mines came out of the open panels and made their individual ways toward Sela's ships. However, before the mines could reach the Firebirds, disruptor beams expertly shot them down.

A swarm of missiles slammed into the Laucine Vorchans amid a rain of plasma bolts and laser beams. Two of the Vorchans died while the third's engines were destroyed, making it dead in the water. The fourth Vorchan lost its port and dorsal wings but continued to fight.

"That was from the Mollari ships."

Sela nodded. The commanders of those ships would be generously rewarded for their part, especially since their House patriarch, Londo Mollari, had just been named Prime Minister by the Regent. While Sela's squadron passed through the debris, shields glowing as they shrugged off the fragments, she said, "Convey my thanks to the Mollari commanders."

A trio of missiles put the surviving Laucine-controlled Vorchan out of action. Glowing hot fragments of it spun in the void as Pontius passed by. Lubato focused on removing Laucine fighters with disruptors on a reduced power setting.

Sela was satisfied. The Centauri crewmen of her squadron were now effectively using the new technology utilized for the Firebird Project. She had no doubt that they would pass on their expertise to other Centauri when more Firebirds roll off the shipyards, courtesy of the Royal Navy. This battle has confirmed the viability of the technology used in the project, so she also had no doubt that the Royal Court would order the Royal Navy to upgrade and refit as many of its current ships as possible.

If Centauri Prime and the Republic survived the Sinhindrea, the Royal Navy would become much more powerful than before despite the loss of so many ships in this battle. Neighboring worlds might be nervous about that due to the Republic's past history.

But that was for another time. For now, Sela needed to fight this battle and survive it. She pressed a button, activating a tactical screen. The Grand Fleet made contact with the Sinhindrea fleet with weapons fire again while the last Orieni ships fought bravely with their last breaths. Though the Sinhindrea fleet had been whittled down with heavy cost to the Centauri, they still posed a threat to Centauri Prime.

She needed to hurry with her mission of killing off the Laucines so she could go back to the battle and add the Firebirds' power to the Grand Fleet once more.

Finally, the Primus cruiser Pazuzu loomed large on the main viewscreen. Several Aquila destroyers rushed in to block Sela's way, firing plasma bolts and missiles. Sela's squadron could not shoot them all down. Albius shook hard under enemy fire.

"Shields down to seventy-eight percent. Repair crews are restoring the affected shield generators."

Sela grunted. Most of the missiles had been aimed at her own ship. Clearly, the Laucines recognized that killing her would decapitate the command structure of the squadron. She smirked. She was planning to do just exactly that to the Laucines.

Mollari and Ardo ships moved in to beat down the Laucine-controlled destroyers. With the addition of the Firebirds' disruptor fire, they were soon also pushed out of the way.

"Admiral! The Sinhindrea!"

Sela looked up sharply as the main viewscreen switched its view to the alien fleet.

The huge cyber-organic warships turned as one, ignoring the few straggling remainders of the Orieni fleet. As one, they opened fire into the Centauri fleet still arranged in front of the planet. The glowing sun-like balls of burning plasma trailed tails of dispersed plasma as they plowed into the main body of the Grand Fleet. Hulls melted as slag and debris spun away into the void, glowing with white-hot heat. Many ships lay shattered and dying. Sela winced. The plasma had ate away every trace of the ships, no bodies would ever be found.

"Energy spikes from all enemy ships!" said the sensor officer.

Sela knew that meant the Sinhindrea were preparing to fire simultaneously again. The rest of the Grand Fleet also registered the energy spikes and were moving their ships out of the way. Those that could not move out in time were moving to present the least damaged parts or to hide behind what little pieces of wreckage they could find.

The three transports hanging in the rear of the Sinhindrea fleet now sped up, each of them reminding her more of a tanker than anything else. It was as if two organic spheres were stuck together with thick pipes of the same material holding them. Two small singularities shone at the stern and two more were at the bow. Contained in an energy bubble, each of the tiny singularities shone brightly, their light blocked only by shell pieces hovering around them.

Sela wondered what the purpose of the bulbous vessels that the Sinhindrea had apparently kept back away from the main battle lines was. Now, even as the warships fired again as one, the transport shot forth, flanked by the burning plasma.

More Centauri ships fell to the plasma. Even the Valerius itself was touched by the terrible Sinhindrea weapon. Its armor and hull was scorched black and a port wing literally melted off. The light in the flagship's windows flickered and died as the Octurion-class ship drifted away from the immolating fire.

The transports closed in with the Grand Fleet, their much smaller versions of the dreaded Sinhindrea weapons firing. Though much weaker than the capital ships, they were nevertheless as powerful as the Sinhindrea fighter analogs and kept the Centauri from getting too close to them. Strengthened shields easily absorbed Centauri fire. As soon as they were deep into the Centauri fleet, their singularities flashed brightly.

An omnidirectional energy wave emitted from each of the transports. It was initially bright enough to cause people to squint or look away. The wave struck Centauri vessels everywhere it went. Cruisers were pushed aside and disabled as if they were primitive vessels hit by an electromagnetic pulse while fighters spun out of control. Some which flew a little too close exploded on impact with the energy wave.

"What was that?" Sela wanted to know.

The sensor officer calibrated and studied the readings given by the Romulan-derived sensor suite. "It reads as a plasma wave augmented by some type of subspace technology."

The Sinhindrea warships fired in concert again. As the trailing balls of plasma burned their ways into the Grand Fleet to keep them preoccupied, the warships turned away from the Centauri as one. In doing so, they were also turning away from Centauri Prime. Meanwhile, the three bulbous vessels continued on their way toward the planet, taking potshots at the tattered remains of the Grand Fleet.

Sela felt a chill and that did not come from the damages that the Albius and its life support system suffered even as it continued to dive at the Pazuzu and the Laucine ships.

"Intercept those ships," Sela ordered as she pointed at the Sinhindrea transports.

The lieutenant manning the navigation controls paused. "What about the Regent's orders?"

"I have a feeling that if we don't stop the aliens, the Laucines and the Regent will not matter anymore. Do it!"

The lieutenant nodded. "Yes, Mistress."

Sela frowned. Even after all this time in battle, she still did not deserve a military title in her subordinates' eyes. That disrespect would be dealt with later. She looked up as the main view screen focused on the three cyber-organic transports diving directly for Centauri Prime.

What were those vessels? What were they carrying?

What were they going to do to Centauri Prime?

Valerius

Marrago breathed heavily as he climbed up from the deck. He gasped in shocked pain as he set a hand down to push himself up. He looked down to see what the matter was and saw that his right arm did not line up at the elbow. Broken or dislocated. Cradling his arm, he huffed his way back into the command chair. It was dark in the bridge. The only light available came from the windows, coming irregularly as the bloom of explosions came and went. Once in a while, sparks would illuminate a damaged console for only a moment. He could not feel the hum of engines vibrating in the deck anymore.

It was completely silent. Except for the groans and muffled gasps from unseen crewmen.

At least the artificial gravity was still there. That meant the gravity stingray tail of the Valerius, which had the same function as the Minbari gravity fins, was still intact

His left hand rose up to touch his forehead. He found that his hair crest was in severe disarray. He grunted dismissively. That did not matter. After all, he wasn't in the Royal Court at the moment.

Mercifully, the bridge lights flickered back on. The deck began to hum from the engines being reactivated.

Marrago was proud. His crew was being efficient, just as he had always demanded of them despite unmeritorious appointments from the nobility. He looked around and saw that over half of his bridge crew lay dead or unconscious.

The battle-screens reactivated and displayed the image of the three bulbous Sinhindrea vessels rushing through the hole they made through the Grand Fleet. The ships that were disabled by the plasma wave still had not recovered. Marrago surmised that the fact that the Valerius was disabled before the wave hit was what saved the flagship from the debilitating effects of the omnidirectional weapon.

Other screens showed the Sinhindrea warships turning away from Centauri Prime and accelerating away. A haze appeared to form in normal space in front of the retreating Sinhindrea fleet. The haze became a distortion not unlike an indistinct bubble, its edges becoming a halo of bright light as hyperspace collided with normal space. The Sinhindrea dove into the distortion. As soon as the last ship oozed into it, the haze faded away, leaving nothing behind to hint at their previous presence except for the ruins of their vessels that were destroyed in the battle.

And those three transports making for Centauri Prime.

Marrago grunted. He stepped down from his command chair and limped over to the navigation controls. He gently nudged the dead pilot out of his way, letting the body slump heavily to the deck. He tapped a command into the console and grabbed the piloting joystick. He gripped it and tilted it.

In the windows, the scene of battle swung around until the three transports were squarely in the center. Marrago switched to a small lever and pushed it forward. The engines hummed louder and thrusters burned more brightly as the Valerius accelerated.

The surviving and conscious bridge crewmen glanced at each other and looked at their lord-general. Marrago nodded to confirm their unspoken suspicion. Wincing, he raised his dislocated right arm and made a signal with painfully gesturing fingers. Crewmen nodded.

All of the cannons on the flagship spat fire while all the remaining missiles in their tubes launched forth. They hammered the shields of one of the Sinhindrea transports.

Plasma, laser and ion fire appeared and pounded at the shields of all the transports. It would seem that at least some of the Centauri ships had recovered from the plasma wave and were turning their attention to the clear and present danger looming toward Centauri Prime.

The fire increased as more ships recovered. The fire intensified as the planetary satellite defense grid gave its full attention. The Sinhindrea shields continued to glow but they did not fail. With four singularities on each transport to feed the power necessary, the shields could stand up to the punishing fire despite the small size of the power matrices.

Green disruptor beams finally made their appearances and speared into the Sinhindrea shields. Missile with antimatter warheads slammed into them causing great explosions. Marrago dipped his head but did not take his eyes off the targets. Admiral Sela was proving herself well.

A thought occurred to Marrago. He risked taking his sole functional hand off of the joystick and typed in a message and sent it to the Albius. He hoped that Sela would understand.

She had.

The disruptors and torpedoes narrowed their focus onto one point of the shields of the lead Sinhindrea transport. The overwhelming power of the Firebirds forced the transport to re-align its shields and to pull power away from the opposite side of the shield bubble. A small area of the shield bubble on that side appeared to be glowing less intensely than before. It wasn't a hole, but it was what Marrago needed.

"Gentlemen," he said, "it has been a pleasure and an honor to serve with you. Whatever happens from this moment on, I shall pray the gods to bear witness that we met our fate like brave men. For we are Centauri, and we are not afraid." He bowed his head in grateful respect. "For our world!"

"For our world!" replied the bridge crew.

The Valerius continued to rush at the transport. The missing port wing did not detract from the Octurion-class battleship's appearance.

Meanwhile, the Firebirds intensified their fire at the strengthened side of the transport's shields. Other ships in the Grand Fleet added their fire to the same spot, further weakening the spot that the Valerius aimed for. At the last moment, the Valerius fired all guns at that weakened area. Before power could be returned to that part of the shields, the flagship of the Centauri Grand Fleet smashed into it.

The force brought to bear by the battleship's tonnage and its firing weapons was enough for it to tear its way through the shields. However, the stronger parts of the shields surrounding the weak spot tore the ship apart while the central parts continued their way into the transport. They happened to impact one of the four small corner singularities. The singularity's hovering shell pieces shattered and the spherical containment failed.

Pieces of the Centauri battleships burned and melted as they fell into the naked singularity just before the singularity dimmed drastically as it imploded. It almost immediately brightened blindingly as it exploded like a tiny nova, swallowing up the remains of the Valerius and the transport. The transport's shields collapsed as its other three shining power matrices imploded and detonated, ripping the transport to shreds and swallowing up the debris in shockwaves.

The Pazuzu:

Lady Lanfir, the Devoted One and Matriarch of House Laucine, had her arms wide as she basked in the burning light of the transport's death, for it was a harbinger of the blissful equality that death would bring to everyone and everything in the universe. However, a part of her regretted that Jorah Marrago, Lord-General of the Grand Centauri Military, hero of the Narn-Centauri War and the last of his House had not the chance to accept the True Gods into his thoughts. If he had, his death would have heralded him into the idyllic wonders of the Nameless City in the Realm Beyond.

As it is, Marrago's soul was now lost to the ether or to whichever false god he worshipped. Perhaps it was that great whore, Li or Kolee, as she was a favorite of the decadent aristocracy. Or, it was Tuscano for his mythologized military prowess against the Xon and the Shoggren. Like the woman Li, Emperor Tuscano was only a mortal raised to godhood.

False gods, all.

The Centauri believed that each of the sixty gods in their false pantheon had his/her own dominion over a given world of the afterlife. By sufficiently appeasing one's patron god during mortal life, that god or goddess would accept the follower into that afterlife in preparation for the time when all the heavens would unite into one. Those who failed to appease the patron deity sufficiently had to be reborn and choose a different deity in the pantheon, repeating the process until they are finally accepted.

Lanfir mentally shook her head at how far the Centauri had been led astray from the truth that equality in death is everything. Lords and slaves stood equal in the eyes of the True Gods. All shall learn the truth in time. The Laucines and others like them had been patient for centuries or millennia. Though they were very few and far in between, the Sinhindrea would herald everything to equal death.

Soft whispers chittered in the back of Lanfir's mind. It was those whispers that convinced her to announce the existence of House Laucine to everyone who would listen. Death was coming for everyone and everything. The darkness that would erase all inequalities will swallow the dawn.

It was soon after that that she felt the call. The Sinhindrea Lords of Power had issued a telepathic summons powerful enough to span half the galaxy, a summons attuned only to those who were receptive to it such as the True Gods. It called them to abandon all actions and secure the Prime World.

Only a very few who were attuned to the True Gods could sense the call. Of these only a couple could survive the insanity-inducing and mind-shattering crush of the power behind the telepathic calling. Even Lanfir barely survived as she screamed and fell prone at the agonizing ecstasy.

When that happened, Lanfir despaired of the Truth's revelation to the Centauri people. The Republic was an obstacle that needed to be cast down along with the idols in their temples. But the True Gods saw fit to send three transports ahead to Centauri Prime, so there was still a chance for the revelation to come. A chance for everyone to know the devouring power of the Sinhindrea and the excruciating bliss of feeding the True Gods.

As the fires of the Sinhindrea transport's destruction faded away, another woman dressed all in red appeared at Lanfir's side.

"Devoted one," she said.

"Isendre, my daughter," Lanfir said in greeting. She gestured toward the view of the two surviving Sinhindrea transports still falling toward Centauri Prime. "Observe how they resist the inevitable."

On the main viewer, they saw how the recovering remnants of the shattered Grand Fleet continue to hammer at the two transports' shields. Sela's three Vorchier Firebirds still pounded away with disruptor beams and torpedoes. Their comparatively weak shields flared at where the transports' plasma fireballs splashed at them.

Now they were in the planet's upper atmosphere. The shields on both the Sinhindrea vessels and the Firebirds glowed with atmospheric friction. Laser, ion and plasma bolts continued to rain from the Centauri ships above the atmosphere.

Two of the Firebirds decided to increase speed. Now their hulls began to glow at the sharp nose and the front of the four fins despite the protective shielding. Clouds rushed past them all.

Below on the planet, people looked up and could see what appeared to be several shooting stars burning in the brightening morning sky. One of them was Timov, wife of Londo Mollari. She slowly stepped out from the shade of the great estate's courtyard colonnade. The estate was isolated in the countryside and almost entirely empty of servants who had long ago fled. Timov gripped her gauzy red veil and muttered prayers under her breath to all the gods that would listen.

Another was Lady Drusella, aunt to Lyndisty and sister to the late Jorah Marrago. She glanced in terror at the incoming storm, thinking dark thoughts about living through the hell that would come if the Sinhindrea landed successfully on Centauri Prime.

In one of the fortified palaces of the capital city, Lady Celes Refa, widow of Lord Antono Refa sat in a large canopied bed, soft luxuriant blankets up to her chin. Almost hidden by the blankets, her young daughter, Senna, sobbed into her shoulder and gripped her neck hard. Normally, Celes would chastise the pre-teenaged girl for such an open display of emotion unbecoming of a noble lady of House Refa. For this once, Celes forgave it for she understood it and felt like crying as well but she held back her own tears of terror. She kissed Senna's forehead and waited.

On a bank of an artificial rive, the Earth Alliance Embassy stood barricaded and guarded by elite Earthforce guards. Its location on the Kironeth River was a great honor since it flowed through the Royal Palace complex. In a reinforced bunker beneath the embassy, Ambassador Cheryl Roman sat in the dark and wondered if she would ever survive this battle.

In one of the magnificent domed temples in the city, Lord Andilo Mollari did not pay any attention to the crush of the crowds around him on the colonnaded balcony around the temple's main nave. The crush of the commoners on the floor below had to be much worse. Lords, ladies and commoners alike sobbed. Incense smoke wafted from the altars barricaded against the crowd to caress the faces of the tall serene statues of the gods. Temple bells tolled as priests spotted the falling Sinhindrea transports. Along with everyone else, Lord Andilo raised his arms toward the abstract designs in the stained glass rose window above the main altar, beseeching the Great Maker that the window represented for salvation.

Regent Denarri anxiously watched one of the viewers in the underground war-room showing the two falling bulbous transports burning through the sky. Their singularities shone brighter than the glow of atmospheric friction on their shields. Knonto Denarri mentally urged Sela, the Firebirds, the tattered remnants of the Grand Fleet, the gods, anything to stop the transports and destroy whatever dreadful cargo they carried.

The thrusters on the back of the two Firebirds closing upon the transports suddenly brightened and the advanced cruisers drastically dove much faster and smashed into the two transports. The transports' shields failed as they bore the brunt of the two Firebirds. But they were not as weakened as the transport that Marrago destroyed so the cruisers shattered explosively, killing all onboard. Yet, that was enough to damage and buckle the transports' cyber-organic hull. The transports also lost control and veered wildly away from each other. The singularities within their power matrix containments flared and flickered like flare stars but the containment fields held.

One of the transports splashed into the sea near the island of Selini, the whole of which was property of the Imperial Summer Palace. It began to sank, the water bubbling around it and steaming where the power matrices touched it. The other transport weaved in a wild course over the ocean. Soon, it was low enough to create a wide foaming backwash in the ocean water. Finally, it made contact with the water and hopped over it like a skipping stone. It splashed down into the water and quickly sank. The water bubbled and steamed around it and over its stern as it sank beneath the waves.

On the Pazuzu, Lanfir saw all this on the viewers. She smiled. "See, Isendre? The Truth is inevitable."

"Yes, devoted one," agreed Isendre.

"Those two transports will plant the seeds for our people's liberation from their false conceptions and from their corrupt flesh."

"And us?"

"We…shall do what we shall do. We must leave before the so-called Grand Fleet remember that we are still here." Lanfir nodded to one of the bridge officers. She raised her lacey shawl on her head forward and folded it so it became a travel hood. The Pazuzu and her attendant ships turned as one. A jump-point opened and the several surviving Laucine Vorchans and Aquilas dove into hyperspace ahead of the Primus-class cruiser.

Lanfir said, "Everyone in the Republic, no, everyone in the galaxy should look to their sins for the revelation is coming."

Lanfir and Isendre shared a smile.

Just as plasma bolts began to fly from the tattered remnants of the Grand Fleet, the Pazuzu jumped into hyperspace, pulling the jump-point close behind it.

Imperial City, Centauri Prime

Cheers reverberated throughout the underground war-room. Denarri slumped in a chair and held a crystal goblet of brivari. He was finally allowing himself to smile. The Yonji Sinhindrea had retreated and their deadly transports shot down. But at such a heavy cost. Fire, death, pain and destruction. And in the back of the regent's mind he wondered why the enemy warships had fled leaving the transports to their own devices? Surely destruction of those transports hadn't be the goal of this entire battle.

Virini was positively giddy with wide eyes and an open smile full of teeth. Durano, Dromo and Tavastani were congratulating each other with handshakes and pats on the shoulders. The news agencies across the planet and the star system would be by now reporting on the Centauri victory over the Sinhindrea. Denarri knew that the cheers filling the war-room were likewise taken up by the people in the streets, the temples, the villas and the palaces all across Centauri Prime. Soon, the news would reach the colonies.

The viceroy of the Immolan System would soon personally call Denarri to congratulate the Regent for the victory and express relief at keeping the capital of the Republic on Centauri Prime rather than being forced to move it to Immolan Five.

Not one of them would harp on about the terrible costs in lives and ships this battle had incurred. Oh, there would be the families of the dead. Funeral parties would crop up everywhere as part and parcel of the Thanksgiving Celebration of Life that was sure to come far ahead of schedule.

It wasn't a victory, not really. It was all a fiction to comfort the people. The Sinhindrea had for some reason merely withdrawn and left the system. They left behind those transports that were shot down. Denarri knew that if the Sinhindrea had stayed, they'd succeed in breaking the Grand Fleet and assaulting the home world. In fact, while sending forth the transports, they were in the process of breaking the fleet.

For now, Denarri would allow the people their much-needed delusions of victory.

A lieutenant sidled up to Denarri and bent to whisper in his ear. The regent stood up and went to a small viewer off to the side. No one noticed him or his barely suppressed expression of worry.

In the viewer's screen, Admiral Sela had her chin thrust up in determination.

"Regent Denarri, I am sorry for the loss of Lord-General Jorah Marrago."

Denarri hid a wince. Fire, death, pain and destruction, just as Lady Ladira predicted. "Admiral Sela," said Denarri before she could say anything else. "I shall personally reward you and bestow on you the rank of Admiral in the Centauri Royal Navy, answerable only to me, the new Prime Minister and the Grand Admiral."

Sela looked grim, afar more than the improving situation called for. "Thank you, Excellency but celebrations and rewards may be premature. My sensors are showing the transports to be dissolving underwater. Whatever they were carrying, it's being released into the ocean and the shields are still active."

Denarri had to put his hands on the console to keep his knees from buckling.

It had been too easy. It wasn't over. Far from it.

"Target nuclear weapons on the impact zone," he ordered quickly, shocking those in the room with him.

"But regency, there are people and island in the entire…"

Do it!" he screamed, 'while there's still time!"