Empress Fallen - Chapter 2 - Part 1

Chapter Two

The Brows of Grace

"Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell;

Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace,

Yet grace must still look so."

Macbeth, William Shakespeare

i. Indicium

The spaceship slowed to a crawl, its forward thrusters spitting furious, red plumes into the darkness. All the while, the distant star hurled threads of gold over its hull, so that the yacht glinted like a shard of silver on a grassy field. Ahead, the station waited, a great metal insect floating in the void.

Miriam Ferox gently manoeuvred the yacht into the station’s hangar, Hadrian’s craggy fingers flashing over the screens next to her as she pulled gently on the centre stick.

‘Easy does it,’ he murmured. There was a soft vibration beneath their feet.

They quickly unbuckled themselves, and Hadrian dartedaround the Flight Deck gathering their flasks, the silver packets which had once contained compressed food, and the electronic charts and schematics, balancing them against his round belly.

‘Data transfer complete,’ she called, smiling at him as he stumbled around the edge of one of the consoles. They jumped down the Flight Deck ladder, and clanged along the steel passages until they reached the yacht’s starboard hatch. It slid back and they walked down the gangway, turning up the collars of their padded, black jackets. The cold of the station hit them like a Tyrannian hurricane.

‘I’ll stop by the archives. The new data should have logged itself but I’ll run a couple of scans, you never know, something new might come up,’ Hadrian called over his shoulder as he headed to an elevator. He winked, and the door slithered shut, the light above it shifting from yellow to blue.

Miriam stepped into an adjacent elevator, its light yellow. She touched the silver ‘II’ and leaned on one of the mirrored walls, grimacing at her weary eyes and pale face. Her long, dark auburn hair was swept over her shoulders. She quickly weaved it into a thick plait and buttoned up her jacket to the neck. The black jacket had a thick white stripe running up each arm converging on an outlined 'C' on the shoulder. All the crew wore them.

The elevator climbed higher, humming gently as it went. The Flight Deck was situated on the second level, at the station's prow, and narrow passages ran out from it like a vast clock, mostly to crew cabins and storage rooms. The same model was replicated on the other levels. Level I, the smallest in circumference, held a meeting room at its heart, and Level III, the kitchens and medical centre. Levels IV to VI hosted the various research rooms and facilities, and the archives. Level VII was taken up entirely by the engine rooms, and Level VIII, the hangar, for the two yachts and twenty escape pods, each able to accommodate five members of the ninety-six strong crew.

These circular levels formed an oblong hull that was littered with viewports, and its thrusters were mounted on six spidery legs that sprawled in its wake, three at the top, three at the bottom, folding in when the station docked. The antimatter drive was nestled in the centre of these legs, while flashing arrays pierced outside the station like great antennae and wings, giving the entire silver vessel the enchanting appearance of a Caelum diamond firefly captured on the night's canvas.

The door slid back and Miriam stepped onto the Flight Deck of the Firefly. She hurried to the helm, receiving nods from the handful of crew stationed at the controls. She piloted the old vessel, but Hadrian commanded it. The Head of Research, Hadrian Sapiens had become known in the secret academic field for his breakthroughs in the cartography of extragalactic space, as well as the discovery of multiple spatial anomalies, some, inexplicable. Yes, well known in the academic field, and so his life was in danger. Miriam had seen a bond grow between her and the old man, a fatherly figure she had so desperately craved for throughout her fractured life. He was the one person who she had bestowed with her absolute trust.

Trust. It was a word that had always felt alien to her mind.

The station was the lead vessel of the privately funded company Hadrian had co-founded and was Chief Executive of, CelestialCities. Miriam smiled to herself, he had always told her how the future lay in space, that it had always been his home and would be the home for millions of others, and that one day the human race would break free of the Empire’s grasp and sail from the Validus system in vast city ships, back towards the stars, but this time out of choice. Such treacherous words could also guarantee their death, however, and she had always been wary of them. The Empire’s power was absolute and had endured for just over three millennia.

CelestialCities was not under the jurisdiction of the Empress. The law was shady and deeply complicated around organisations such as this, but whether legal or illegal, it was a known fact among merchants, dealers, smugglers, and researchers alike, among anyone with a shred of curiosity: If you provoked the Empire in any way, if you had something they wanted, if you dared to seek answers locked in secrecy, you would pay for such treason with your life.

And Hadrian had found something.

‘Anything new?’

Miriam glanced behind her. It was Teleri Alauda, one of their astrogators.

‘Hadrian’s analysing the new data now, but I don’t think so, no.’ Teleri looked deflated. She sat back down in front of the Flight Deck’s window, but was soon turning around again.

‘Did Hadrian say if we’re going to move closer to the belt?’ She seemed agitated.

‘It depends on the analysis, on the levels of interference, we’ll be leaving Caelum’s orbit though. The Dragonfly station docked at a Sanctus port a day or two ago, he might want to rendezvous with them, compare data, I mean, we definitely need a clearer idea of what we’re dealing with.’

Teleri turned back, brow furrowed. Miriam sighed, staring out at the emerald curve of the primary Tri-Planet stretching out below her. The sprawling capital city, Regnum, could easily be seen, as the great spires ofthe Imperial towers punched through the clouds and high above them. Magnificent silver skyscrapers, they leapt a kilometre and a half from within the thick forest floor. The bristling rainforests crawled over the entire globe, the mighty Caelum trees growing right alongside the buildings up to a seventh of their height.

The city glistened, home to thirty-two million members of the nobility, royalty, rich middle-classes, and the seat of the Empire. It was shivering with movement, thousands of aircraft weaving through the spires. The vast majority of its population had never even set foot on the ground, they did not even acknowledge the existence of such beauty right on their doorstep. They were merely obsessed with their own narrow, utopian life.

But it was a façade, an illusion. And one day the lies would be shattered. Miriam had sworn it ever since that hellish night ten years before . . . One day, she would expose the Empress for what she was. And it would end; the genocide, torture, corruption, slavery. All of it.

It had been too long already. She had only a basic knowledge of their history, the Empire censored so much of it that it was almost impossible to research. She had always wondered what secrets they were hiding. It had been late in the 32nd century when the great Western Empire had formed, a union of the world powers of the United States, the North-West Kingdom of Europe, Scandinavia, and Canada, forgotten powers from a lost era.

Her mother had told her about those days. She blinked through the tears that had risen unbidden inside her. It had no doubt been confidential information that had originated from him. Her father.

The Empire had formed in the first place because of a terrible world crisis, a crippling shortage. Water. That was it. A shortage of water. The final straw was when the entire southern end of the continent of Africa had been obliterated by a barbaric nuclear strike by China. It had been provoked by the initiation of a program in Eastern Antarctica, some form of water project. And South Africa had been the pioneers, so naturally, because everyone wanted the program, they had to die.

In retaliation to the formation of the Empire, the Eastern Alliance had arisen. She frowned, wracking her memory. It had been a military pact between China, the People’s Republic of Korea, the Republic of India, the Japanese Imperium, and the East-Mediterranean Union. But then the era of antimatter warfare came, and it had decimated them all. She had always dreamed of Earth. Legend said it had been even more beautiful than Caelum.

She unclenched her fists, breathing deeply as she gazed longingly at the surface. Such beauty resided there, such vibrancy, hiding so much life. Could anything be more beautiful? She had never been down there. Born on Tyrannis, she had never even seen Regnum with her own eyes. But it was the rainforests her heart yearned for, the plants and animals, the life. A place where there was purpose, and innocence, and the one place the Empire would never go. Ironically, it was right below their feet, lurking in their shadows, the one place where true freedom could be found.

There were even legends that some of the species were sentient. One in particular kept pushing itself to the forefront of her mind, the forgotten stories of a beautiful, crimson-red bird, one of extraordinary intelligence: The Guardian of the forest.

But seemingly unbidden images crept through her thoughts of what exactly it would be like to try and fight in such an environment, to defend the sanctity of such pure freedom from the Empire’s avarice. The dense, hostile foliage would render aerial strikes and surveillance impossible. Navigation would also suffer. Perhaps the Imperial Ground Wing Lasers, the Growlers, would even be impaired by the humidity. Any vehicle would be greatly hindered, as well as being devoid of a means to refuel. What could possibly traverse the rainforest floor with even a small degree of efficiency or speed? The logistics would be a nightmare.

But the combat itself? She imagined herself running among the immense trunks cradling a rifle, the air barely breathable, clogged with water and the scents of predators. The heat would be stifling, clawing at the skin, making the protective armour seem strangling. Terrible howls and piercing screams would be echoing menacingly on all sides, whether it be from an enraged scarlet tiger, a fleeing canopy ape, or a dying comrade. And fire. If a plasma cannon or eagle explosive started a fire on the forest floor, the flames would spread hungrily from trunk to trunk as though they had souls of their own, ravenous and ablaze with fury, feasting on the thick, golden oil excreted by the trees.

Miriam leaned back in her seat, breathing out and tearing her eyes away from the mesmerising surface, confused by why such thoughts had lodged themselves in her mind. She shivered, folding her arms around herself, the images of snarling flames eating through fallen soldiers still searing around her head. Her eyes ran purposefully over the other ships sailing past, seeking a distraction.

Hundreds of merchant cargo ships, space liners, yachts, stations, perhaps thousands, were all docked at the ports clutched in the planet’s orbit. There were no cruising racers or frigates in sight but one of the Empire’s bulbous cruise ships was just creeping from one of the largest Imperial ports. She flinched as her eyes fell on the colossal vessel, memories threatening to surface, but she shoved them back.

The atmosphere on the Firefly was one of acute anticipation and frustration. Ever since their arrays picked up the disruption in space far beyond the asteroid belt, the station had plunged into overdrive, theories racing back and forth among the crew as if the very ideas had minds of their own. The wildest rumours were that it was an organic anomaly, a vast sentient life-form accelerating towards the system with the intent of devouring all six of its planets. Miriam knew how unsettled Hadrian had become, how angered he was by something that he could not explain. It had not before been recorded on his charts. It was not a planet, a black hole, a binary pulsar, a meteorite, or even a comet. And it was moving at a perplexing velocity. CelestialCities had made it their highest priority to determine its true nature.

She heard the elevator doors open behind her. Hadrian.

‘Miri,’ he hurried over to her, ‘set a course for Sanctus, we need to find the Dragonfly.’ She immediately swiped the screen beside the controls, inputting the new co-ordinates and gripping the joysticks, engaging the aft thrusters, before sending a station-wide update of their status.

‘Thrusters engaged at 80% of maximum, Quarter engine online,’ Teleri said quickly, as the station's spidery legs unfolded.

‘Initiate the antimatter drive,’ Miriam called as she maximised the engine power. The Firefly vibrated slightly beneath their feet, then they leapt forward in a flash of red light, and Caelum vanished. A loud groaning enveloped the station as they raced towards Sanctus.

‘Estimated journey time, 77.8 minutes,’ she said, before turning and peering at Hadrian.

‘What is it?’ Her voice was wary. He sat down at the console next to her, fiddling with his high collar, stormy grey eyes flicking back and forth, not on the station but lost in the stars. Teleri leaned forward to listen.

‘The Sapiens Array,’ he murmured, ‘the Sapiens Array.’

‘Yes?’ she said slowly. The array was composed of a network of deep space sensors, fitted to all CelestialCities stations and yachts. Hadrian had completely redesigned standard Imperial sensors, adapting their focal data accumulation system, as well as switching their power source from liquid TriVis, a fuel derived from the incredibly dense element, Arcanum, to DiFocalia. Their operating power was greatly increased along with their range and accuracy, even though they were very expensive. And so, naturally, all of their lives were now in danger. The company had striven to keep the technology locked in secrecy but it was only a matter of time.

‘What?’ she pressed him urgently. He was still gazing out of the viewport, the shadow of a frown resting on his silvery brow.

‘They’ve detected a concentrated reading of Arcanum residue behind the anomaly, Arcanum,’ he hissed. Miriam leant forward.

‘What? Hadrian, that’s impossible.’

‘I assure you, the readings are not false.’ He stared into the darkness, eyes glazed over. ‘I verified them.’

‘But – but fuel residue? It cannot possibly be a ship. We can’t leave the system. No one can. Unless it’s . . . not human? Is – is that it? But the Validus system is the only source of Arcanum. I don’t understand.’

But Hadrian didn’t answer, abruptly leaping to his feet and striding to the elevator. He disappeared into the belly of the station still frowning. Miriam was left staring after him in confusion. She slowly turned back to the display. A ship? Impossible. It could not be. She absent-mindedly fiddled with her hair, unravelling the plait, and staring down at the blinking helm controls.

The Quarter drive nestled at the rear of the ship contained six short-pulse lasers, ionising and accelerating electrons through Arcanum nuclei, which emitted energy quanta that decayed into antimatter. These positrons were then mixed with electrons, causing an explosion which blasted the ship to a speed a quarter that of light, technology that was used all over the system. To prevent them, and the entire ship, from being crushed into oblivion, the anti-gravity field generator in the engine absorbed the massive quantities of acceleration produced. It was the job of the magnetic shielding in the hull to block the radiation, composed of dense Arcanum plating. The Quarter engine Arcanum needed replacement every few years, though.

But the liquid Vis thruster fuel was a different matter. Derived from the mined Arcanum on the slave planets, it was burned up quickly. There were different strains, QuadriVis the standard, which was distributed throughout the system in vast space liners.

It was not a secret, however, that the entire system was inherently corrupt. One had to be blind not to see it. But then, she reminded herself almost immediately, they were forced to be blind.

For decades, the Empress had diverted an influx of pure Arcanum into her secret reserves, silencing any who would resist her. Not a living soul knew the location of these reserves, many simply discarding them as myth. Fear. That’s what the Empire was built upon. Fear and blood.

A certain ratio of the precious Arcanum was also stocked in the Vaults and sold independently on the Imperial stock markets, being the standard for the Denarii currency, but even that was fixed and manipulated by the Empire.

The only reason CelestialCities had made such advances in technology was because of their illegal test site on an asteroid at the inner boundary of the belt. Hadrian had codenamed the small rock, Saxum. Of course, if they were caught, it would be immediate execution, no trial. She gazed out at the stars. It was utterly forbidden to leave the solar system, to venture beyond the asteroid belt. The most supreme law.

The belt was unremittingly patrolled by frigates, and the rare stories of fugitives who had tried to escape into the abyss, into the unknown, all ended in one outcome: Annihilation. Making the perilous voyage to Saxum was itself, riddled with enough dangers. Sometimes they could only risk the journey two or three times a year. But even if the frigates could be evaded, only a lonely and drawn-out doom awaited, a devouring darkness and isolation of starvation and insanity.

But, she found herself thinking often, was that not better than living under this twisted pretence of freedom, trying to convince themselves that they were oblivious to such atrocities like the genocide of the Sanctian aborigines? Miriam had only heard the rumours. Of course, there were only rumours. They had been an ethnic minority, a group who had chosen seclusion and isolation on Sanctus after the thousand year odyssey, free from any Imperial influence, even from the Brotherhood of monks. And over a millennium later, they were slaughtered in their thousands.

Death and torture lurked around every corner. A life of terror, and silence.

She shook her head, shuttering such thoughts, as an odd pain grew inside of her. She glanced round at Teleri. The woman was scanning data on the far side of the Flight Deck. Miriam leant back once more, her eyes returning to the gaping vastness, that yawning abyss.

But the dormant hatred festering deep behind the fractured barricades in her mind never left her thoughts.