Episode 32: Slay the Dragon

Derek stood at Sandor's bedside in the medbay. Dr. Sane had said there was no lasting damage, and Sandor would likely wake within the next twenty-four hours. Hopefully, he was right. Since there was no way to insert an IV into the XO's bionic limbs, Sane had run a central line to maintain a steady supply of fluids and administer any meds he might need. The vitals monitor hovering above Sandor's bed showed a regular heartbeat and steady pulse.

Only an hour ago, Deun had escaped the brig. Derek still didn't know what to think of Trelaina letting him go. Deun was a liar, a murderer. Why allow him his freedom?

Derek's comm buzzed. Conroy's team in the hangar needed help repairing the bay door. He'd need to bring Trelaina with him. After how she'd reassembled the mangled gun turret, she might be able to do the same for the broken hangar door.

But Trelaina was nowhere in sight.

She was standing next to him moments ago.

"Dr. Sane." He stopped the other man on his way to finish setting a broken leg. "Where's Trelaina?"

"Couldn't understand her very well. She seemed to be looking for Patel's body, so I pointed out the morgue. Not sure what she wants with a corpse though."

"Thanks." Derek headed for the morgue. He stopped just short of the door's sensor range. Last time he was in here, he and Sandor were examining Mazer's body. He prepared himself for whatever he might find behind this door before taking one more step.

Inside, Trelaina stood over an open cold storage tube. In it lay Patel's body. It would stay there until they could hold a proper memorial for the young man and send his remains into space.

Derek wished they could keep the bodies of their fallen friends—deliver them to their families, to be interned as each wished—but with no way of knowing how many they might lose, it wasn't practical to keep them.

Patel would have a marker on Hero's Hill, just like the others they'd lost these past few months.

Trelaina laid a hand on the frosty glass. Her eyes were shut, as if in prayer, and the glowing spheres hanging at the ends of her sleeves pulsed.

She didn't seem to notice Derek, so he kept to the edge of the room and waited for her to finish what she was doing.

Trelaina whispered over Patel. It was so faint Derek's translator couldn't discern it.

When her prayer ended, Trelaina reached for the control panel at the head of the unit. The glass hissed open, exposing Patel's sheet-covered body. The only visible part of him was his face. His naturally brown skin had a bluish-purple tint.

Trelaina laid a hand on the young man's chest, pulled a small knife from the folds of her dress, and drew the blade across the back of one hand. A few drops of golden blood seeped from the wound. Trelaina guided a smear of blood onto the knife blade and held it over Patel's cold forehead.

The golden blood dripped onto the young man's skin, adding a bright spot to his death pallor.

This had to be a Telzarti funeral tradition.

There was still so much they didn't know about this woman and the civilization that once lived here.

The spot of blood on Patel's forehead seeped into his skin within a second, and Trelaina spoke over the young man again, this time loudly enough for Derek's translator to register.

"… spark of life, Shaddai. Let it burn brightly again."

Derek expected her to close the unit and leave Patel's remains in peace. Instead, she stood beside the still open tube, waiting.

A full minute she waited, never taking her eyes off Patel's body.

Color returned to Patel's skin, and he stirred. The young man struggled several times before opening his eyes.

"Where… am I?" Patel pulled the sheet around himself and shivered. "And why is it so… cold?"

"Dr. Sane?" Derek leaned halfway out the morgue door. "Dr. Sane!"

The old man thundered into the room. "What in space is it, Wildstar? I was just finishing a cast." The doctor's mouth fell open when he saw Patel, now sitting up and trying to keep his sheet in place around his legs and torso. "That—that's not possible. He was dead!"

"Not dead," Trelaina said. "Dying. He stood at the edge of death, but Shaddai allowed his restoration."

Derek numbly translated for Sane.

When the doctor's shock wore off, he shooed Derek and Trelaina away. "Let the boy get some proper clothes on. Out. Out."

"I saw what you did," Derek said once he and Trelaina were back in the medbay. "How?"

"It is as I said." Trelaina stepped aside as Hanson and Acre walked by with an armful of supplies to restock the portable triage units.

"I saw you apply your blood to Patel's forehead."

Trelaina hid the already healing cut on her hand. "This… is another gift I had no knowledge of until today, Captain Wildstar. This is a day of many firsts for me." She held his gaze, and the same wonder Derek felt moments ago filled Trelaina's eyes. "I do not understand how my gifts came to be. I have read my father's accounts of how he designed me, and still, it is a mystery. Perhaps only Shaddai holds the answers."

Derek wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. "Designed you?"

Trelaina's glow muted until it was barely noticeable. "I was genetically engineered—made for a woman who ultimately decided she didn't want me."

Derek hadn't had much time with his parents before they died in the bombings, but he knew they'd never willingly abandon him. "That must have been hard."

Trelaina shook her head. "I do not remember it. I was an infant when my mother left me. Perhaps that is merciful. All I know of my biological mother and father are their names—Kyren and Asher."* She laid a hand over her heart. "Perhaps one day, when I cross into Shaddai's Realm, I will know them."

"I hope so," Derek said.

"Thank you, Captain Wildstar. Now, as to my origins, perhaps it would be better if I allow you access to what remains of the Telzarti network. You may read my father's accounts yourself. Perhaps your Sandor can piece together something of use from them once he wakes." She tapped the device attached just above her ear. "Your communication device is connected to your ship's computers?"

Derek handed Trelaina his comm. "Yes, but I don't know if your system is compatible with—"

"It is all right. Though it appears you lack sufficient storage." She returned his comm and double-tapped hers. A hologram of a crystal box appeared. It was six inches square and had no visible interface points. "I have many of these in my home. What is left of the Telzarti network will fit within one of these cubes. I will fetch it for you when critical repairs are complete."

Dr. Sane opened the morgue door. He stepped into the medbay, and beside him walked Patel. The young man didn't have his full strength back, but all hints of death had left him.

The young Indian woman whose leg Dr. Sane had just cast was the first to notice Patel. Her gasp filled the room, and within one second whining silence filled every corner.

All eyes were on Patel.

In disbelief, the young woman eased off her bed. She took one halting step toward Patel. Each stride came a little faster than the last, and soon she'd reached a hobbling run. She flung her arms around his neck and sobbed.

Joy burst through the room, and shouts of gladness accompanied prayers, tears, even a few expressions of complete bafflement. All who were able met Patel a few steps outside the morgue and rejoiced with him at the miracle.

Dr. Sane separated himself from the celebration.

"Aren't you going to tell them you did this?" Derek said to Trelaina.

She shook her head. "No, Captain Wildstar. Because that would not be true."

"Sure, it is. I saw you bring—"

"No." Trelaina's tone was firm. "I did nothing but what Shaddai willed. It is He who gives life. If you speak anything of this, let it be that."

"All right," Derek said.

So many others lay wounded and dying just feet away. They filled cots, gurneys, beds. A few even lay on the floor.

"What about them?" Derek said.

Trelaina took in the crowd around Patel, then the wounded—some of whom couldn't even move without help. Unshed tears glassed her eyes. "Shaddai's ways are His own, and I cannot pretend to know them. All I can say is this young man who was wrongfully brought so near death has been given his life again. We are all bright and beautiful strands in an unfathomable image. I cannot pretend to know the design of that image, or in what order our strands are woven, but each strand is precious to Shaddai. Perhaps He will heal others. Perhaps He will not. It is not for me to say."

Dr. Sane stood beside Derek. "I've seen miracles in my time, Wildstar, but I've never seen anyone who was carried into a morgue walk back out."

"Me either," Derek said. Something Alori had recounted to him came to mind—the resurrection of a man named Lazarus who'd been dead for three days before Jesus brought him back to life. "But more impossible things have happened."

Sane scoffed. "Fairytales."

"I'd have thought a doctor would be more open to considering new things," Derek said.

Dr. Sane shook his head and headed for a middle-aged Japanese man suffering from multiple chest lacerations. "Back to work, everybody. We've got patients to see." He cast an irritated glance at Trelaina.

When the doctor was out of earshot, Derek said, "He won't say it, but he was hoping you'd help everyone."

The mob around Patel and the young woman who'd run to meet him dispersed, reluctantly. Patients returned to beds, and the nursing staff resumed caring for those who needed them.

Trelaina went to the bedside of a girl barely over eighteen. Her hand hovered over the girl's bandaged head and face. "If it were my choice, Captain Wildstar…" She let her hand rest atop the girl's forehead. "I'd heal everyone in the universe."

The girl's eyes opened at Trelaina's touch, but her expression was vacant, empty.

A tear slipped down Trelaina's cheek and left a damp speck on the girl's dressing.

The girl's expression never changed.

"There is much pain and death ahead, Captain Derek Wildstar. None aboard this ship will escape it." Trelaina withdrew from the wounded girl and headed for the medbay door.

"Trelaina, wait." Derek hurried after her and caught up outside the door to Nova's room. "What do you mean?"

Trelaina faced him. "There are things worth fighting—even dying—for. Are you ready to give your life for Origin—Earth?"

Nova was ten feet away, just behind one closed door. He hadn't even had the chance to tell her he loved her yet. He couldn't contemplate leaving her now—not so soon after realizing just what she meant to him. But what would any of it matter if Earth fell to the Cometines? What kind of life would any of them live under tyranny? And there was no guarantee the Cometines wouldn't eradicate the population—refill the planet with their own people, like the Gamilons had tried to do just a few years ago.

He couldn't watch Earth fall and not try to stop it.

"Yes. I'd give my life for Earth." It was all he could do not to look at Nova's door.

Trelaina seemed to sense his struggle, because she offered him her hand.

When he took it, her grip spoke of deep strength, the kind he needed to see this through.

"Let's get your ship space worthy." Trelaina let go of his hand and stepped out of the medbay.

Derek followed.

Invidia slipped into the gardens without being noticed. Artificial lighting was low to simulate night, and a view of the stars spanned the holographic dome ceiling. Flowers, shrubs, and trees surrounded her. Had she not been intent on locating Sabera the moment she arrived, Invidia might have admired the scenery and peaceful seclusion.

A single red lily lay on the ground beneath a squat sapling. She was so intent on watching for Sabera, she almost missed it. The stem pointed farther into the trees, so she picked up the flower and headed the indicated direction until she found another red lily, this one lying beside a mature tree with low-hanging branches.

She ducked beneath the boughs and found Dyre waiting for her, as discussed. Dyre's clothes blended with the shadows, and if she hadn't known he was there, she'd never have seen him. Her own clothes bled seamlessly into the darkness. The long sleeves, gloves, pants, and boots were made from material that absorbed light, and a breathable face covering left only her eyes exposed. Her hair was gathered into a thick braid to keep it out of her way.

Invidia crushed the two red lilies in one hand. Their warm scent filled the air as their limp petals fell to the dirt.

According to Gairen, Sabera would be here tonight.

A handful of people lingered in the gardens, but they left one and two at a time as the night deepened.

Invidia had strapped a dagger to each thigh, in addition to the shoulder-mounted blade she so seldomly wore. A handgun hung ready at her hip. She wouldn't use the gun unless she had to. Blades were quieter, less likely to draw unwanted attention should she have to subdue Sabera before dealing the fatal blow.

Dyre's fingers flexed near his blade. He was just as ready to see this through as she was.

General Venik passed near their hiding place. A woman hung on his arm. Her slim build reminded Invidia of Sabera, and were it not for the woman's deep violet hair, she might have mistaken the stranger for the Prime Minister.

Venik and his escort disappeared into another part of the gardens.

Only another half hour before Sabera was supposed to arrive.

Dyre pulled a vial of liquid and an injector from one pocket. Gairen hadn't disappointed. The high priest could be irritating, but he had a hidden talent for brewing deadly substances. Tonight, Invidia was glad to have him as a resource.

People filtered in and out of the gardens, but almost exactly a half hour later, Sabera arrived. She'd exchanged her white Prime Minister's garb with a darker ensemble, and her long white hair twisted into an elaborate knot.

As long as Invidia had known Sabera, the woman had never worn her hair this way. Not even for combat simulations. The most complicated design Sabera had ever employed was a three-part braid. But this woman looked and walked like Sabera.

Had it been anyone else, Invidia would have used her comm to scan them, but Sabera would know the instant she initiated it.

Sabera crossed the small clearing near the entrance and headed further into the trees. With Invidia and Dyre trailing closely, Sabera maintained pace, followed a marked trail, even stopped to admire a few flowers before arriving at a disused fountain. Invidia had met Dyre in this very spot a few months ago—before they'd started relying primarily on sim-rooms for meetings.

The fountain still ran, but the pooled water was green with algae, and green fingers of moss circled the stone base.

Invidia's hand itched to fill the injector Dyre had brought. If she could get close enough to Sabera for a few seconds, it would all be over. Trailing her had been the easy part. Killing her would be much harder.

Nothing near the fountain moved. Even the simulated breeze refused to blow.

Sabera leaned over the moss-encrusted fountain and dipped one hand into the water. She trailed her fingers through it, making tiny waves that lapped the basin's stone edges.

General Venik slipped from the undergrowth without a sound and approached Sabera.

The Prime Minister jumped when she noticed him.

Invidia gripped the hilt of one dagger. She could down Venik with one throw. But that would betray her to Sabera. If she chose to kill Sabera first, Venik would be witness to it, and she wasn't confident she could fell him quickly enough to avoid discovery.

Dyre was no marksman, else she'd entrust him with Venik's demise.

From the calculating expression on Dyre's face, he was weighing the risks too, and he communicated his reticence with a quick shake of his head.

Invidia accepted his assessment. They would have to wait until Venik left.

Sabera and Venik conversed so quietly Invidia's comm didn't pick up either of them. Less than a hand's breadth separated the two as they stood shoulder to shoulder beside the fountain.

What had they come here to discuss in the middle of the night?

If the lighting were better, she might have made out a few words, but in the dark, it was impossible to read lips.

Invidia stalked dangerously near the edge of their hiding place, hoping she might get close enough for her comm to pick out stray syllables, tone, anything that might tell her the reason for this meeting.

The conversation ended five minutes after it began.

Venik was first to leave.

Sabera followed a few minutes afterward, and as she approached Invidia and Dyre's position, Invidia filled the injector.

When Sabera's back was to them, Invidia gave the signal.

Dyre grabbed Sabera from behind. He twisted her arms backward and forced her to the ground before planting a knee in her spine.

Invidia jammed the injector against Sabera's neck and squeezed until the entire dose of poison coursed through Sabera.

The Prime Minister stilled, cheek pressed into the dirt. Death's vacant stare filled her eyes.

Invidia dropped the injector.

In numb disbelief, she stood over Sabera's body.

She'd finally done it.

She'd won!

A methodic clap echoed through the trees. From beneath an aged oak stepped Sabera and Venik. Sabera shed a dark cloak. Her white hair and clothes made her stand out, even in the darkness.

"You're just as simple as you've always been." Sabera tapped her comm implant.

The dead woman's face morphed, and her hair darkened from white to deep purple. It was the woman who'd been with Venik earlier.

How had Sabera known they would come for her tonight? The only ones who knew were Invidia, Dyre, and Gairen. Invidia hadn't told anyone. Dyre might be sometimes treacherous, but he valued his own well-being too much to have sabotaged this. And Gairen was no friend of Sabera. So how had she discovered their plans?

Unless she'd intended to draw them here.

Sabera must have planted the information—lured them here into her trap.

Invidia cursed. She should have known something was amiss the moment Sabera's little pawn stepped into the gardens.

"Nothing to say for yourself before I have you both thrown into the detention cells for plotting my demise?"

Invidia hurled a knife at Sabera, but the woman sidestepped, and the blade thunked hilt-deep into a tree.

"I congratulate you both on your bravado. It takes a special breed of fool to attack the Prime Minister," said Venik.

Invidia threw her second knife, and it pierced Venik's shoulder.

Venik grimaced, reached for the knife, but didn't pull it out. Blood ran down the front of his shirt, and no doubt the back.

Had Invidia hit him two inches lower, he'd be dead. But there was no time for a second attempt. The only blade she had left was the heavy one at her shoulder, and she wasn't confident throwing that with enough accuracy. The gun at her hip was a better choice, but already Sabera's side arm was pointed at her.

"Take him." Sabera pointed Venik to Dyre. "I'll deal with the princess." She put her gun away and drew her dagger. "You want a reckoning, girl?" Sabera flashed her blade. "Consider your wish granted."

Sabera charged Invidia, and their blades crashed together. The echo rang through the trees.

So much for secrecy.

Invidia shoved Sabera back, and they circled each other. Had Invidia been confident she could outdraw Sabera, she'd have gone for her gun, but Sabera was too quick. Better to keep the fight to closer quarters where the odds were more favorable.

Dyre locked Venik in combat, and thanks to Invidia, the old general had the advantage. Despite the marked age difference between the two men, with Venik's wound, Dyre would best him.

Sabera slashed Invidia's arm. It was a shallow cut, but blood seeped into her black sleeve. "Thought you could catch me sleeping, little snake?"

Invidia countered.

Sabera leaped back to avoid her blade.

Invidia pressed her attack, not giving Sabera pause enough to strike back. Aggression prevailed, and Invidia nicked Sabera's side. It was a flesh wound, but it meant Sabera wasn't invincible.

Dyre had Venik cornered against a wide tree. He'd given Venik two more wounds—one to his back, the other to his leg.

Venik hadn't landed a single blow, and in desperation, he reached for a side arm.

If Venik killed Dyre, Invidia would have the disadvantage. "Watch him!" Invidia called.

During Invidia's moment of distraction. Sabera swiped her blade across Invidia's chest, leaving a smooth cut spanning from one collarbone to the other before knocking Invidia to the ground.

Sabera straddled Invidia and swatted her dagger out of her grip. The knife clunked into a pile of leaves several feet away. She squeezed Invidia's throat with one hand and poised her knife over the artery pounding in her neck.

"Kill her, and your pawn dies too," Dyre said. He had Venik's good arm twisted behind his back and was ready to cut the man's throat. It was a weak threat. Sabera wouldn't let Invidia go to spare Venik. The only purpose Venik served was to keep Dyre from attacking Sabera.

Sabera kept pressure on Invidia's neck. "You're in no position to bargain. Let him go, or I'll slash your precious princess' throat."

This was not how things were supposed to end. Invidia couldn't let Sabera win. Venik was weak. Dyre would have other chances to kill him.

"Release… him…" Invidia rasped.

Dyre let go of Venik's arm and shoved him away.

Venik staggered but caught his balance. Invidia's knife was still embedded in his shoulder, and blood crusted around the buried blade. "You've made a mistake, old man," Venik taunted as he leveled his gun at Dyre. "I'll have your place in Zordar's court. Well… so long as it is his court." His eyes skittered to Sabera, confirming Invidia's suspicion Sabera was planning to claim the throne. Dyre, and all those loyal to Zordar, would die too quickly to even posit the idea of treachery within their own ranks.

Invidia would be the only one left alive—locked away until it was socially acceptable for Sabera to kill her. She would claim Invidia had gone mad or contracted a fatal disease. Few would know otherwise, and none would challenge her. Her rule would become absolute, and she would harry the Diviner until Gatlantis was in pieces and its people nothing more than cosmic debris.

It was unacceptable for the Comet Empire's greatest worldship to be reduced to space trash.

Still trapped under Sabera, Invidia pulled her gun and blindly took a shot.

The unexpected move made Sabera hesitate to pull her dagger across Invidia's carotid.

Invidia grabbed Sabera's knife hand and pried it an inch away from her neck before knocking Sabera in the back with both knees. It wasn't a strong blow, but it was enough to knock Sabera off-balance, and Invidia twisted free of her.

Dyre dropped to the ground.

Venik pulled his trigger, but before he could get off a second shot, Dyre had buried his dagger in the man's heart. Venik's body crashed beside the dead woman Sabera had used to deceive them.

Sabera cursed and drew her gun.

But Dyre was just as quick. He fired a single shot into Sabera's chest, and the Prime Minister went down. A char mark covered her chest.

"You won't get away with this," Sabera hissed at Dyre.

Shouts near the garden entrance.

Invidia snatched Dyre's dagger from Venik's corpse and approached Sabera. "He will be my chief advisor." She poised the knife over Sabera's heart. "And you'll be dead."

Before Invidia struck, Dyre hauled her into the undergrowth a heartbeat before half a dozen men and women, marked with the green star of Gatlantis' medical unit spilled into the woods. They descended on Venik, Sabera, and the dead double.

One of the women kneeled beside Sabera. "Who did this, Prime Minister?"

Invidia's gloved hands dug into loose earth, and Dyre didn't even breathe.

Sabera opened her mouth to answer, but lost consciousness before she'd spoken one syllable. Judging by the medic's tight brows and quick precision, Sabera was in poor condition.

If they were fortunate, the Prime Minister would never wake up.

Episode 32 Notes:

The title for Episode 32 was taken from Isaiah 27:1

In that day the Lord with his sore and great and strong sword shall punish leviathan the piercing serpent, even leviathan that crooked serpent; and he shall slay the dragon that is in the sea.