New Alliances

[richard]

Chapter 1:

"Good evening, fellow Sentients, and welcome to the latest broadcast of 'The Nines Now', your source for all the news in the Empire of the Nines. This is Dash Carter, coming to you live from Skylar Station. With me is my lovely co-anchor, Kara ni Seleni. Our top story today is how a series of seeming coincidences has led to an historic event. Tell us more, Kara."

The scene cut to a beautiful, golden-skinned Tuathan female with copper-colored hair and gold-flecked, green eyes. She smiled, revealing a set of perfectly even, pearly white teeth.

"Thank you, Dash," she said in a rich, melodic voice. "Nearly a sten ago, the Drakendi of Endelor, in the Ramani System, made a stunning debut in a starship crafted in the form of a great crystal dragon."

The scene shifted to the docking bay at Skylar Station, and centered itself on the breathtakingly beautiful craft. Then, Kara was in the spotlight once more.

"Barely a pentir later, the Daoine of Venedor, Carthis, in the Azerian System blasted into the spotlight with the launch of the Phoenix, their own impressive contribution to space exploration."

Another scene cut, this time focusing on a long, sleek starship that bore a marked resemblance to the mythical flaming bird from which it took its name. A series of solar panels fashioned into a crest shimmered with all the colors of the rainbow.

"Isn't that amazing, folks?" asked Dash as the camera returned to focus upon him. "But, we're not finished yet. Two pentirs later, yet another starship burst onto the scene! An obscure branch of the Mordani, calling themselves the Naqtir, or Night Folk, left Zuros, in the Dalriadan System, to seek their fortune in outer space. Which leads us to today's story. More on that after a word from our sponsors."

Princess Kitrianna barely listened as a pleasant-faced Human female extolled the virtues of Age-Away Vanishing Cream. The Drakendi were a long-lived race, unlike the Daoine, and so, had little use for such products.

Next was an ad for the 2025 Corvair LXM, the newest luxury cruiser from the friendly folks at Luxar Enterprises. The Royal Family of Drakara already owned several.

Finally, the newscast resumed, and she listened closely. "Welcome back to 'The Nines Now'," Dash Carter was saying. "Kara, why don't you tell our listeners why we're here today?"

"Don't mind if I do, Dash. We're here with exclusive coverage of the first Grand Council in decades. It seems that the Commander of each of these starships was approached by a mysterious being who calls himself Uatu, the Watcher. Representatives from each of the three nations are meeting here today in hopes of forming a Galactic Alliance."

"Sounds exciting," said Dash, taking up the story once more. "There's an entire universe outside of our own little Empire, folks. The next few decades should lead to many intriguing discoveries. Kara and I will continue our coverage of this major event, and keep you posted as the story progresses. I'm Dash Carter..."

"And I'm Kara ni Seleni, signing off for now. We'll be back later with the latest developments on 'The Nines Now'. May the blessings of the Nine be upon you all. Thank you, and good night."

The broadcast was over. Spotting a cameraman heading in her direction, Kitrianna made a strategic exit. She had been dodging reporters all day while waiting for the Grand Council to convene. She glanced at her chronometer. Less than an hour to go. With luck, she wouldn't have to face any reporters until after the Council.

"I see I'm not the only one who's a little camera shy," said a male voice from a deep lounge chair. "Lock that door behind you, Princess. Nice of you to join me in my little hideout."

The speaker rose to his feet, and turned to face her. His close-cropped blond hair gave the Human's head a curiously flat appearance, and his one good eye was a piercing blue color. The other eye was covered with a black vinyl patch, giving him a somewhat sinister appearance. He was much shorter than the Princess, but he looked like a veteran of many battles.

"I'm Commander Jared Calder," he said by way of introduction. "You must be the Drakendi Princess that I've been hearing so much about. Have a seat; we've got a few minutes to kill."

"You are correct, Commander," she said, after composing herself. "I am Princess Kitrianna ni Celaria of Drakara. You're the Commander of the Phoenix, correct?" He nodded, and she continued. "Don't you think it odd that three separate nations from different star systems would develop similar technology at nearly the same time? I find that fascinating."

"Well, we didn't send any spies into the Ramani System, if that's what you're thinking," he said dryly. "Pure coincidence, if you ask me."

"I think the Nine had a hand in it," she said. "And I suppose that the Watcher showing up at just the right time is a coincidence as well?"

"No need to be so defensive about it, Princess," said the Human Commander, attempting a disarming grin. "Everyone's entitled to their own opinion. Let's just agree to disagree, all right? No hard feelings."

"Of course," said Kitrianna. "No need to fight amongst ourselves. I'd better be going. The Grand Council begins shortly. See you there."

Commander Calder bowed slightly, and said "Why don't we walk together, Princess? We should get to know each other better if we're going to be allies. Any objection to that?"

"I hardly think it necessary, but do as you wish," she said. "I won't stop you." She began walking, doing her best to ignore him.

"A friendly bit of advice, Princess," said the Human Commander as they walked. "The Naqtir can't be trusted. They serve the Queen of Night, and are out only for themselves. We would be better served to seek an alliance elsewhere."

"Thank you for the advice, Commander," murmured Kitrianna. "But I prefer to draw my own conclusions. I will take your counsel under advisement."

They had reached the Council Chamber, and each of them took their places around a large, round table. The Grand Council was about to begin.

- To be continued -

[richard]

Chapter 2:

Uatu the Watcher and his Sib'yls were among those in attendance. Name plates identified each of the visiting dignitaries: Queen Celaria of Drakara, Endelor; President Emil Sharun of Venedor, Carthis; and King Eryon of Naqara, Zuros.

Princess Kitrianna studied King Eryon with curiosity. He was heavily-built and muscular, like most Mordani. His pure white hair was braided in tight rows. He wore a long beard that reached past his chest. What struck her the most about his appearance were his eyes. They were completely black in color, and set deep in their sockets. After a few moments, he seemed to wince, and blinked rapidly as he placed a special visor over his eyes.

President Sharun had dark brown skin, with deep green hair and eyes. He was shorter than Kitrianna, but tall for a Duine. He was dressed in an impeccably tailored white suit, to include the tie. Three men stood watchfully around him, each wearing a weapon that appeared similar to a Drakendi draq. Each of the weapons was equipped with an infrascope. Kitrianna surmised that these were the Human leader's Elite Guards.

Currently, the Council Chamber was off-limits to the media, for which Kitrianna was grateful. She had no doubt that reporters would be lying in wait outside the Chamber, ready to pounce as soon as the Grand Council was adjourned.

A panel of Master Bards had been assigned to oversee the Grand Council. Their function was to record the event for the Empire's historical records, and to moderate any disputes that might arise.

Kitrianna recognized Master Bard Indara of the Drakendi, but had to read the name tags to identify the other two: Master Bard Orien of Venedor, and Master Bard Karos of Naqara. Each nation in the Alliance was represented.

Master Bard Orien had been chosen as Speaker, and it was he who would give the opening speech. "Fellow Sentients, today marks a milestone in the history of the Nines. For the first time in three decades, a Grand Council had been convened. Three nations from three star systems have agreed to meet together in hopes of forming a Galactic Alliance as the Empire of the Nines takes its first steps into the Greater Galaxy."

He paused for effect, taking the opportunity to sip some water. Those gathered in the Chamber glanced around, each taking the measure of the others. After a moment, the Daoine Master Bard continued.

"If you will direct your gazes to the viewscreen, Uatu the Watcher will explain his gift to the Empire of the Nines." The viewscreen hummed to life, revealing a curious construct seemingly suspended in space a short distance from Skylar Station.

Four vent-like spires formed a diamond shape. A series of lights ran along these spires. Each spire ended in a crescent-shaped nodule with the points facing outward. Four gravity snares held the spires together at these nodules. At the top of the construct was what appeared to be an electronic homing beacon.

"What you see before you is a Hypergate," Uatu was saying. "Its function is to open a portal into Hyperspace, a region where space folds in upon itself, so to speak. While traveling through Hyperspace, a ship can travel at several times the speed of light, enabling it to travel from one end of the Greater Galaxy to the other in a matter of minutes. This is our gift to the Empire of the Nines."

Everyone started talking at once, and Master Bard Orien raised a hand for silence. "I'm certain all of you have many questions, Honored Guests," he said with a smile. "But, let's try to stick with one question at a time. We will start on Lord Uatu's left, and proceed in a clockwise fashion. The floor is now open for your questions."

One by one, questions were posed and answered. Although a Hypergate was needed to access Hyperspace, it was not required to exit back into normal space. One of the hazards of Hyperspace was the Drift, which could put a starship milars off course if not checked and realigned periodically. This problem did not exist with a Watcher guiding the ship.

The lights on the spires were an aid to navigation. They lit up when the Gate was activated. If a ship was entering the Hypergate, the lights would blink towards the crescent-shaped nodules. If a ship was preparing to exit the Gate, the lights would blink away from the nodules.

"This is all well and good," said King Eryon of Naqara when his turn came. "But, what I'd like to know is, what do you want in exchange for this gift? Everything has a price."

There was a general murmur of agreement from the others present, and all of them stared expectantly at the Watcher. Finally, he said "For myself, nothing. All I ask is that you do not try to build another Hypergate of your own. That would mark you as a Rogue Empire, and you would be expelled from your place in the alliance of empires."

He paused for a moment, then continued. "This is Major Aris Marden of the International Galactic Police, or IGP. She has a few words to say as well. Please give her your undivided attention."

"Thank you, Lord Uatu. The rules of the Greater 'Galaxy are simple. Any Empire that attacks another Empire in the alliance will be considered a Rogue Empire, and will be dealt with harshly. Do not steal from other Empires within the Alliance, and respect all local laws and customs when visiting another Empire. As long as you abide by these rules, you will be protected by the IGP."

"Don't try to build another Hypergate, no invasions, no stealing, and obey the local laws and customs when visiting another Empire," said Queen Celaria when her turn came to speak. "That sounds quite reasonable to me. I accept these terms, Lord Uatu."

One by one, each of the leaders pledged their cooperation. Moments later, the Galactic Alliance of the Nines was official. Three nations united in one cause: the exploration of the Greater Galaxy.

Before the closing remarks could begin, a warning siren began to wail. "All military personnel report to your stations," came a voice over the comm system speakers. "We are under attack."

"This session of the Grand Council is hereby adjourned," said Master Bard Orien hastily. "Welcome to the Galactic Alliance, Honored Sentients."

The Chamber erupted into Chaos as Princess Kitrianna raced for the exit. Commander Calder was close on her heels. "Finally, some action!" he shouted over the uproar "Our first battle together as members of the Galactic Alliance. Their timing couldn't have been any better!"

They elbowed their way through the throng of reporters, declining to comment upon the situation. When they were in the clear, they made their way to the docking bay. Only then did they separate, each to their respective ships.

- To be continued -

[richard]

Chapter 3:

"All personnel, battle station," cried Kitrianna with a touch of excitement as she took her seat in the Commander's Chair. "Skylar Station is under attack. Time to see what the Galactic Alliance can do. Tirith, take us out of here."

"Incoming transmission from the Phoenix," called out Lieutenant Arialla. "Shall I patch it through?" Kitrianna nodded impatiently, and soon, the viewscreen hummed to life, revealing Commander Calder's rugged face.

"Hello, Princess," he said gruffly. "My intelligence sources suggest that the enemy is after the Hyper-Gate. Let Feodor and his Naqtir buddies handle the local invasion. You and I should make for the Gate, and drive a wedge right through enemy lines. Whaddaya say?"

"We don't even know who we're dealing with yet, Commander," said Kitrianna. "How can we be sure that their objective is the Hyper-Gate? I'm not certain I want to leave Skylar Station mostly undefended to chase down a hunch."

"It's more than just a hunch, Princess," said Commander Calder with certainty. "When you've seen as much fighting as I have, you kinda get a feel for these things. Trust me on this, okay?"

"Okay," said Kitrianna with a sigh, having made her decision. "We'll do it your way, Commander Calder. I hope you're right about this."

"I am," he said with maddening confidence. "Keep a comm line open between our ships, Princess. That way, we can share tactical data as it becomes available. And, thanks. Calder, out."

Kitrianna issued the necessary orders, and Yuara cut a swath through the enemy lines with deadly accuracy. On the viewscreen, the Phoenix was visible off the port bow, dealing out its own brand of deadly mayhem.

Within moments, both ships had cleared the battlefield, and were heading toward the Hyper-Gate. A long starship, twice as large as the Crysallia, was hovering near the Gate, and Kitrianna studied it with interest.

The ship appeared to be another that had been constructed out of crysallids. Its shape was that of a huge hesprin, a voracious insect that fed on the blood of its victims. The ship was blood-red in color, as if it had just fed. She stared at it in awe.

"Would you look at that?" she said in a hushed whisper. "Can you imagine how long it took to build a crysallid colony of such size? Quite a terrifying sight."

"Al'Ai," came Commander Calder's voice over the comm link. "Blasted Bugs! They want the Hyper-Gate for themselves. We can't let them have it."

Princess Kitrianna remembered the name from Ancient History class. At one time, the Al'Ai had been a contributing member of the Imperial Council of the Nines. Hailing from the planet Zuros, in the Dalriadan System, the Al'Ai had been an aggressive race, quick to anger and harsh in seeking retribution.

The Imperial Council had many clashes with the Al'Ai, and the insectoid race seceded from the Empire of the Nines to form their own empire, seeking dominion over all life. It had been centuries since the Al'Ai had been heard from.

Evidently, they were still a threat to the Nines, and had been making plans for a comeback. With a Hyper-Gate, they would become a threat to the entire Greater Galaxy.

"We're in agreement there, Commander Calder," she said into the comm link. "Think the two of us can take it out?"

"The bigger they are, the harder they fall," said Calder with a loud guffaw. "An old Venedorian saying. What say we swat this fly?"

Several drones had detached themselves from the Al'Ai ship, and they proceeded to attach themselves to the Hyper-Gate. "Uh, oh," said Kitrianna. "Gold Squad, get out there and take care of those 'bots. Be careful not to damage the Gate. We'll provide cover for you from the Crysallia."

"Great minds think alike, eh, Princess?" said Commander Calder. "We're right behind you."

"Don't flatter yourself," she said, but her tone was playful, rather than annoyed. "When I find a great mind, I'll let you know."

Great snorts of laughter burst out of the comm link, and Kitrianna smiled in spite of herself. "I like you, Princess," said the Human Commander at last. "You're a regular riot! Fighters away! Let's get busy, Princess."

"Fire at will, Yuara," she commanded, and the Gunner opened fire on the Al'Ai ship, keeping its attention away from the four Stingers that targeted the drones.

The Al'Ai returned fire, and the Crysallia shook from the blast. Kitrianna glanced questioningly at Tirith, and he answered without hesitation. "Shields holding at 90%, Commander. Weapons fully charged and operational. We're okay, for now."

"Fire!" she ordered once more, and Yuara's fingers flew on the weapons console. The Al'Ai ship yawled to one side, and she knew that it had lost a stabilizer. "Good job, Yuara. That should cause them some trouble."

The Phoenix followed suit with an attack of its own, and one of the starship's 'eyes' shattered into crystalline fragments. Within moments, however, the breach had repaired itself.

"They've got a self-repairing matrix," she commented, cursing in frustration. "Where did they get technology like that?"

Even as she spoke, the Al'Ai ship righted itself. The stabilizer was functioning once more. "I'll be damned," said Commander Calder. "That was fast. They'll have had to divert power from their main systems to pull that off. Follow my lead, Princess. We've got to hit them hard and fast, right where it counts. I'm going to target the matrix core."

Another burst of fire struck the Crysallia, and the lights dimmed for a moment before flaring to life once more. "Shields at 75% and holding," reported Ensign Tirith. "We can take a few more hits, but I wouldn't recommend it. Better end this battle quickly."

"Sending you over a tactical read-out of the Al'Ai ship," said Calder. "I've marked the location of the matrix core for you. Concentrate all your firepower on that location. On the count of 3... 2... 1... fire!"

Yuara followed instructions, and a lance of crimson fire punched into the Al'Ai craft just in front of the joint between thorax and abdomen. At the same time, blue fire from the Phoenix blasted away at the same spot.

There was a muffled thump from within the Al'Ai starship, and the hull exploded outward in a spectacular shower of crystal. The head of the ship separated from the rest, and darted through the Hyper-Gate.

The Hyper-Gate flared to life, lights blinking towards the crescent-shaped nodules. Moments later, the lights grew dark once more, and the Al'Ai escape pod was gone.

"Blast!" raged Commander Calder over the comm link. "The leaders got away! They'll be back for more, mark my words!"

"Calm down, Commander," admonished Kitrianna. "The drones have been destroyed, as has the Al'Ai starship. We've achieved our objective; the Hyper-Gate is safe, and still functional. The battle has been won. We should return to Skylar Station and see what we can do to help there."

"My apologies, Princess," he said with a sigh "It's just that I can't stand Bugs. I'd like to see them all wiped from existence. Good job, anyway. You're pretty handy in a fight. Guess we showed 'em, eh?"

"That we did, Commander," she replied. "You were right. You'll have to let me in on your secret one of these days. I'd be most interested in finding it out."

"Why, Princess, we hardly know each other well enough for that! Maybe we should have dinner together some time. Maybe you could wheedle it out of me then."

"I don't 'wheedle', Commander," she returned in an icy tone of voice. "And, I don't go on dates. If that's what you have in mind, forget it. I'm already Bonded."

"What a pity," he answered with a touch of regret. "All right, Princess. Have it your way. I'm heading back to Skylar Station. You coming?"

With an exasperated sigh, Kitrianna closed out communications with the Phoenix. Commander Calder was an infuriating man. "Set a course for Skylar Station," she ordered. A moment later, they were underway.

- To be continued -

[richard]

Chapter 4:

Skylar Station was in an uproar when they returned. The damage that had been sustained was relatively minor, and Kitrianna was convinced that the attack had only been a diversion meant to mask the Al'Ai's true objective.

How had Commander Calder known that they had been after the Hyper-Gate? She didn't believe it could be attributable to battle experience alone. He was hiding something, of that much she was certain.

Right now, though, she had a more immediate concern to deal with. The Al'Ai escape pod had traveled through the Hyper-Gate, and could be anywhere in the Greater Galaxy by now. They would have to travel to Scanlon Station to warn the other Empires.

But first, she would have to learn more about who they were dealing with. The Al'Ai were a mystery to her, and the information on them was sketchy, at best. Their split from the Imperial Council had happened nearly a millennium ago, and they had kept a low profile ever since.

Perhaps her mother would have more information. She entered the Royal Frequency into her comm band, and flipped the 'Transmit' switch. "Mother, where are you?" she said. "We need to talk. How soon can you get back to the Crysallia?"

"At the moment, I am trapped inside the central emergency shelter," replied Queen Celaria, her annoyance evident. "It seems that some of the damage from the attack came too close for comfort. Until the damage has been repaired, the rest of Skylar Station is off-limits to all civilians."

"But you're not a civilian, Mother!" she cried, sighing in exasperation. "You're the ruling monarch of Drakara. They can't keep you penned up like this! I'm on my way." Then, turning to her crew, she said "Seraian, Idrial. Come with me. We've got to 'rescue' the Queen. Some well-meaning Imperial Guardsmen have trapped her within Skylar Station. It's our job to extricate her."

"Sounds exciting," said Seraian with a smile. "Shall we charge in, draqs blazing, destroying everyone in our path?"

"You've been watching too many holovids, First," said Kitrianna, placing a calming hand on Idrial's shoulder. The Chief Healer's irritated expression softened, and she bit back the angry retort that she had been about to make. "I hardly think that will be necessary. These are our allies, remember? We'll simply convince them that the Queen is needed elsewhere."

"Pity," said Seraian, his smile broadening at the expression on Idrial's face. "That scene would have looked good in a holovid. Ah, well. Your way is probably better. Shall we get going, Commander?"

"I think that would be wise," answered Kitrianna. "I don't know how much longer Mother can take being trapped in the shelter." Then, she spoke to Idrial under her breath, saying "Don't worry. He was only joking. He's not a complete idiot. You'll just have to get used to his sense of humor."

Something in her tone caused Idrial to study her for a long moment, and the Healer's eyebrows raised expressively. "No doubt," she said at last, turning away with a carefully neutral expression. "As a Healer, I don't have much contact with Warriors outside of the Infirmary. I'll try not to take what he says too seriously."

They left the Crysallia together, and made their way to the central emergency shelter. A detachment of Imperial Soldiers stopped them briefly, noted their rank insignia, then waved them onward.

Several 'bots were busily repairing the space station, whirring and humming as they worked. From the looks of it, the repairs were nearly complete. Skylar Station would continue onward for some time to come.

As soon as they entered the shelter area, they were accosted by the Tuathan reporter from 'The Nines Now'. "Finally," she said in her musical voice. "Now, maybe we can get some answers. I'm Kara ni Seleni for 'The Nines Now'. The question that has been on everyone's mind is, who was behind this attack? Is the battle won? Are we safe, now?"

"That's more than one question," said Kitrianna wryly. "As for the first, I'm not at liberty to discuss it. The battle has been won, and you'll be safe enough once repairs to the station are complete. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have urgent business elsewhere."

"But, Princess," said Kara persistently, staying close on her heels as she walked away. "I think our listeners have a right to know who attacked us. If they remain a threat, we need to know how best to defend ourselves. Surely, you can't deny us that chance!"

Rolling her eyes, Kitrianna turned to face the reporter once more. "The situation is under control for the moment. You have nothing to fear. As soon as we have assessed the situation, the public will be notified. I have no further comments."

As she turned away, Kitrianna hummed a minor spellsong, directing the Power toward the Tuathan reporter. Kara opened her mouth to speak once more, but no sound came out. Her eyes widened as she tried again, with identical results. Finally, her expression annoyed, she left Kitrianna's group to themselves.

Kitrianna grinned in satisfaction as she caught sight of Queen Celaria. The spellsong she had used on the reporter would wear off in an hour or two, and there would be no harm done. It was a handy trick she had learned to deal with media representatives.

"Hello, Mother," she said in a pleasant tone of voice as they approached the Queen. "Your rescuers have arrived. We would have been here sooner, but we had to deal with some minor annoyances first. Are you ready to go home?"

"As much as I'd like to see Scanlon Station, I agree that we should return to Drakara as soon as possible," said Celaria. "Your Father is probably beside himself trying to deal with matters of state. It's time we rescued him, as well."

A smile crossed the Queen's face briefly, and Kitrianna saw the light in her eyes. However, Celaria composed herself quickly, and her expression became neutral once more. She truly loved King Eriador, then.

With that realization, Kitrianna saw her mother in a new light. Beneath that queenly exterior was a loving, caring individual. She remained quiet, deep in thought as they returned to the Crysallia

- To be continued -

[richard]

OOC: It's not much, but here's a little something for right now. Hopefully, I can get out of my writer's block.

____________________________

The return to Endelor was a somber one. King Eriador's greeting to his wife and daughter was somewhat reserved, and Princess Kitrianna knew that something was amiss. She looked around for Alazar and Khara, but both were conspicuously absent. She gazed at her father questioningly.

"We'll talk in the Palace," he said quietly. "There are things you need to know that should not be made public. Come."

The Royal Family made their way together to the Royal Chambers. King Eriador left instructions that they were not to be disturbed, and the Royal Guardsmen bowed smartly as they moved to do his bidding.

"All right, Father," said Kitrianna when she was alone with her parents. "Why all the secrecy? Where's Alazar? What's going on?"

"We are betrayed," he said solemnly. "Baron Tiemar has allied himself with the Red Temple, and has attempted to steal the Celestial Helm for himself. The Prince has led our troops to do battle with him. I could not allow the Baron's treachery to go unpunished."

"So, we are at war, then?" asked Celestia, and he nodded grimly. "You did the right thing, Soul-Mate. Our son is a very capable Warrior, and will lead our troops well. It seems I have returned at just the right moment. I must address our people. If you will excuse me..."

"Of course, my love," said the King. He clasped the Queen's hands briefly, one of the few acknowledgments of affection that were permissible to the Royal Couple. Then, she was off, gown swirling in a businesslike manner, leaving Kitrianna alone with her father.

"You're worried, aren't you, Father?" she said insightfully. "The Red Temple can be ruthless in its pursuit of Power. Never fear, my brother knows how to handle himself on the battlefield. Baron Tiemar will fall, I promise you."

The King sagged visibly, and Kitrianna enfolded him in her arms reassuringly. A moment later, he composed himself, straightening his shoulders as he stood tall.

"Alazar is a fine Warrior," he said with pride. "That's not what worries me. I just hate to see centuries of peace come to an end. We fight amongst ourselves like barbarians. I dislike having to raise weapons against our own people."

"I know," said the Princess in understanding. "However, I cannot remain here to help with this situation. I have another, potentially more serious, problem to deal with. The Al'Ai have returned, Father. Skylar Station was attacked. We repelled the invasion, but their leaders escaped. I fear we have not heard the last of them. I must travel to Scanlon Station to warn the rest of the Greater Galaxy."

"I see," said Eriador, disappointment evident in his gaze. "You will do what you must, as always. Your duty is clear. When will you be leaving?"

"Tomorrow, at first light," she replied. "Trust the Nine, Father. Everything will be all right. Mother will be here with you. Help her as much as you can. I'm counting on you. Don't lose heart."

"I know my duty as well," he said with a wry smile. "Have no fear, Kitrianna. I don't intend to hide myself away in the Palace while my family fights for our people. You have my word on that."

"I never doubted it, Father," said Kitrianna. "Forgive me if I gave you that impression. You are a good and just king. I know you'll do all that you can. Now, I should try to get some rest. Space travel can be exhausting. May the blessings of the Nine be with you and our people."

"And with you, Daughter," he said. "Perhaps, one day, I, too, will travel among the stars. There's so much to be discovered out there! You have made me proud, Kitrianna."

"Thank you, Father," she replied. "It means a lot to me to hear you say that. Good night." Another quick hug, then she retired to her bedchamber for the evening.

- To be continued -

[richard]

Naqara, Zuros, Empire of the Nines

Captain Feodor Krahs cursed loudly as two Atonals nearly dropped a crate of valuable trans crystals. "Watch out there, grahks!" he shouted, venting his displeasure at their clumsiness. "Just one o' those crystals is worth more than yer pathetic hides combined! If I find one cracked trans crystal, I'll have ye flayed alive! Mark my words well."

The two Atonals exchanged terrified glances as they repositioned their load. They had no doubt that the Captain would indeed carry out his threat. Feodor Krahs' reputation for cruelty was well-known among the Toneless.

The Hornet was nearly loaded and ready to go. Captain Krahs grinned widely as he performed some quick mental calculations. This shipment should bring in a good sum of money for him. Translation crystals were a high demand item among the races of the Greater Galaxy. He intended to capitalize upon that demand. The crystals were a standard component in shipboard communications systems, allowing the crew members to understand any spoken language. Smaller trans crystals could be used in necklaces or bracelets, enabling communication on a more personal scale.

Turning his attention to his ship, Captain Krahs surveyed it with a critical eye. The Hornet was as sleek and deadly as its namesake, packing quite a 'sting'. He smiled at the cleverness of his pun, and felt a sense of pride as he studied her. The Hornet had taken very little damage in the attack on Skylar Station, but had exacted a heavy toll upon the Al'Ai raiders.

Granted, the attack had been merely a distraction to hide the Bugs' true intentions, so there had only been a token resistance. Somehow, the Duine Commander had seen through the ruse, and taken the Tuathan ship along to combat the true threat. Captain Krahs resented the fact that he had been excluded from that intelligence, but he expected no better from a Human.

The feeling was mutual. Centuries of distrust between Mordani and Daoine would not be easily overcome, and he wasn't certain he even wanted to try. For now, though, they shared a common foe, so he would overlook the slight. After the Al'Ai threat had been dealt with, that would change.

Krahs thought back upon the words of Major Marden of the IGP: "Any Empire that attacks another Empire in the alliance will be considered a Rogue Empire, and will be dealt with harshly." She had said nothing about infighting within an Empire. So, he would be breaking none of the IGP's stated rules.

When the last of the supplies had been loaded and secured, Captain Krahs scanned his PCD, reviewing the directions for reaching Scanlon Station. Having committed them to memory, he proceeded to the bridge of the Hornet to perform a preflight diagnostic. He wanted to be certain the flight would proceed with no unforeseen complications.

******** ********

- To be continued -

[richard]

Chapter 7:

On board the Phoenix, just off Skylar Station

Commander Jared Calder strode briskly through a dimly-lit corridor, and mentally reviewed the events of the day. The fact that the Al'Ai leaders had managed to escape troubled him. They could be almost anywhere now. Their escape had demonstrated the effectiveness of the newly-constructed Hyper-Gate. The Watcher had done his job well.

Now, it remained only to determine where in the Greater Galaxy the Al'Ai had gone. To that end, he intended to utilize the Meta-Stazer. The machine boosted one's psionic abilities tenfold. It had served him well through the years, despite its debilitating side effects.

Although Commander Calder appeared to be a man in his late forties, in reality, he was only about thirty years old. Each time he used the Meta-Stazer, he aged one to five years, at least physically. Thankfully, his mind remained as sharp as ever. He considered it a fair trade for the knowledge he gained.

Having reached the Meta-Chamber, the Duine took several deep breaths to calm himself for the ordeal to come. He hummed a Song of Focus, centering his consciousness. When he felt ready, he entered the Chamber.

"Greetings, Commander Calder," said a pleasant, metallic female voice. The speaker was a platinum-colored 'bot that had been designed in the appearance of an attractive female. "Are you certain it's wise to use the Meta-Stazer again so soon? You've barely recovered from the last session."

"Can't be helped, Jinny," he said in a voice that brooked no argument. "I've got to track down Regent T'Krehs and his officers. The Al'Ai are too big a threat to be ignored. Don't worry. I'll be fine."

"That remains to be seen," said JNY-024 in disapproval. "At least allow me to conduct a physical before connecting you to the Meta-Stazer. I want to be certain your mind and body can handle the strain. Please?"

"All right," said Commander Calder with a sigh. "But be quick about it. I'm not getting any younger, you know. This is a most urgent matter."

"Not getting any younger?" said the 'bot in confusion. "But that is an impossibility, Commander. Oh, I see. Your attempt at levity has been noted. Very well. This will only take a moment."

Jinny moved quite gracefully for a 'bot, he reflected as she passed a scanner over him. It was uncanny. Science was a marvelous thing. It had achieved many wonders throughout the centuries. She seemed almost Human.

"Best leave it at that," he murmured wryly, amused at the turn his thoughts had taken. There were plenty of women who would be willing to give him companionship. He didn't need a 'bot for that.

"Pardon?" said JNY-024 in confusion. "The scan is finished. I'm just analyzing the results. Psionic activity is somewhat heightened, but within an acceptable range. Biorhythms are somewhat erratic, but not dangerously so. Shall we proceed with the joining?"

"WHAT?" spluttered Commander Calder, momentarily alarmed. Then, remembering what he had come to do, he regained control. "Oh, the JOIN-ing. Of course. That's what I'm here for, isn't it? Let's get started."

"Yes, that is what you requested," said Jinny, eyeing him bemusedly. "Are you certain you're ready, Commander?"

"Of course," he replied, chuckling wryly. "Don't worry. I haven't gone mad, Jinny. My thoughts were just wandering, that's all. I'm Focused now, I promise."

"Very well," replied the 'bot, emulating his chuckle with uncanny accuracy. "Have a seat in the Actuator, Commander, and I'll wire you in. Perhaps a Song of Focus would be in order. I wouldn't want you to become lost in the Stream."

Commander Calder followed instructions, and felt a calm settle over his emotions as he sat in the Actuator's cushioned seat. JNY-024's fingers moved nimbly as she attached wires to both wrists and ankles, and two wires to each side of his chest. Finally, she placed the Meta-Stazer helmet on his head.

"Activating Meta-Stazer, Commander," said the 'bot, flipping several switches as she spoke. A steady humming filled the air, and his scalp tingled as neurons were stimulated and flared. His breathing came in short gasps, and he fought to keep it under control as his awareness expanded.

"Feed T'Krehs' psi-print into the Meta-Stazer, Jinny," he said in a tightly-clipped voice. "I've got to find out what he's up to."

"Done, Commander," said the 'bot a moment later. "Be careful. Psi-rhythm peaking at maximum. Guard yourself against sensory overload."

Erecting a mental barrier to protect himself from unwanted intrusions, Commander Calder sent his mind forth, searching for Regent T'Krehs. Contact was achieved almost immediately, but not in the expected manner.

- To be continued -

[richard]

Chapter 8:

Interlude (part 1)

By Lowell B. and Richard McKinley

The Road was old, as old as the universe itself.

They had been traveling it for days, or was it centuries? Time was hard to rate on the Mindplane, even for a Dreamer. Syona Marcello brushed a strand of raven dark hair from her eyes and gazed at a sun above, a sun that had never set. Below it, a clear blue sky stretched on to an endless horizon dabbled with lacy wisps of spun white clouds. In its depthless heights, things glided and soared. Some were majestic in their avian silhouettes, while others, higher above, were winged shapes of misshapen creatures. Predator or prey, she could not be sure, nor did she wish to find out.

Syona clucked in Caedmon's ear and the Lightmare increased its pace down the Road.

Before them in the distant haze was the Glow, a jade hue that grew richer with every league. Even as the Road twisted and turned, it never erred in its destination, giving the Dreamer no doubt that the Glow was where the Road would end. On either side of the Road, stalks of corn sighed in a gentle breeze. They were tall, and even mounted on Caedmon, they easily came up to the Dreamer's shoulder. Peering across their tops she observed with her patient eyes how they rolled like waves in an endless ocean, light where the sun struck their tips, and dark when the stalks bent in a gale. And in between the quiet of the wind, she heard them grow, ever growing. A cacophony of corn. Were she not a Dreamer she supposed she would laugh at such a thought, or shiver. She knew Luer Pell, her 'Sin-Guardian, would find it amus --

The Lightmare's hoof struck something hard on the Road, and she pulled rein. It had happened again, the third time since her journey began, and this time she knew she hadn't imagined it. Caedmon's tread was as light as falling snow, but there was something under the Road, something hidden, but close to the surface. Dismounting, she lowered to a knee and brushed aside eons of dirt, desiccated corn stalks, and the weathered remains of an ageless land. Yes, there was something there, and her hands worked faster.

The outlines of a brick were revealed, followed by another, until she deduced a pattern. The Road was laid with bricks, its original foundation, one that had a flaxen hue that favored gold.

*No, not gold,* she thought to herself, *A golden clay. Fascinating."

Caedmon whinnied, and she looked ahead before them. More patches of bricks were revealed through the dirt. Here the road was younger, or more well traveled. Her eyebrows raised in a Dreamer's smile. They were close.

Mounting Caedmon she spurred the Lightmare into a working trot. Soon, the wind was in her ears, cornstalks and blurring leaves in the edges of her eyes as she looked deep into the bend of the first curve. Dirt and dust gave way to open bricks now and the cadence of the Lightmare's run were staccato beats on the lustrous pavement. They pushed faster, down another curve, then another arching the opposite way. Their trot became a a three beat canter, then an open gallop. The world whipped by as the Dreamer rose in her saddle, eyes braced against the wind --

"Whoa!"

The murder of crows rose like a curtain of black before them, cawing in protest or warning. Caedmon ignored them and pulled into a halting circle, kicking up a cloud of dust as he did. Syona's hand latched onto the sword at her side while she squinted through the falling pall. Her chest heaved with heavy breaths as her heart thundered against her sides from physical exertion. Closing her eyes she calmly pulled in a cleansing breath and slowed her heart and lungs. The sound of crows faded into the distance as the dust settled around them in preternatural silence.

Slowly she discerned shapes as smudged splotches through the dusty veil coalescing as the cloud began to thin. Sounds came first as the crisp splash of a rushing spring. The stout bridge was next, an arched wooden span of golden cobblestones that rose in a graceful high camber with balusters, or rails, of river stones along its side. The ancient overpass would give anyone crossing the security of safe passage.

The structure spanned the fast-moving stream, whose breadth was an easy stone's throw in width, but its depth and dashing current were another question. Along the other bank, corn continued to grow, lining the stream's edge in thick, cable-taut braids that formed an unyielding wall to anyone wishing to escape the rushing water's depth, and Syona noted that the other side was higher than the first. The bridge was the only way across.

The Dreamer clucked again and Caedmon began to move.

The golden brick Road continued over and beyond the bridge but the high corn blocked its view from the other side. Only the jade Glow could be seen above the corn, and Syona noted how deep and bright it was now. The Lightmare's hooves clopped as he climbed to the apex of the bridge and the Dreamer summoned a surge of will to suppress the emotions that threatened her.

On the other side the corn thinned into a circular clearing where the Road cut through straight as an arrow. A sign post stood to on the left side, old and rotted, it barely stood and swayed in the wind. Faded and bleached from a never setting sun, crow droppings covered its words, but its shape was unmistakable - a directional arrow pointing down the Road in the direction of the Glow. A few paces from that the Tin Maiden stood.

Syona studied her for several minutes before she was satisfied that it hadn't moved. The tin being stood as if frozen in time, in a pose that was both elegant and troubled as she (though Syona wondered if such an ancient mechanical thing truly had a gender other than its feminine form) stared towards the bridge in woeful anticipation. A heavy wooden bucket was held in one hand, a work brush in the other. Over her left breast was a faded image, a painted red heart.

Syona eased Caedmon down the other side of the bridge.

On the right side of the Road, a windmill stood, and Syona pulled in a tight breath as she studied it. It seemed as old as the Road itself, perhaps even older. Four stories in height it rose with a tower frame of field stones mounted above the trestle base. The sail cloth of its lattice vanes were torn and tattered, and soiled gray. The vanes groaned in the wind but did not spin, and the Dreamer noted how one of the vanes covered the only door into the mill itself. Suddenly, Caedmon whinnied, and moved about uncomfortably. His ears flicked as his nostrils flared. Syona sensed it too -- a thrumming in the air of negative energy, but there was something else too. Someone was singing. They weren't alone.

Dismounting, she drew her Mind Blade and pulled Caedmon behind her by his reins as they eased closer towards the mill. Her eyes noted fresh tracks of footprints near the blocked doorway that led around to the other side. She froze. The singer had stopped.

"Hello!" she called out. A crow alighted onto one of the mill vanes and opened its dark beak in a silent hiss.

"I know there's someone here," announced the Dreamer. "Caedmon can smell you, and ... your thoughts ... your feelings ... I can sense them all around!"

The footfall came behind her and she spun. Had the stranger been a pace closer -- her blade was notched only inches from his head. Eyes, young and friendly, stared back at her on an ageless, confident face.

"By the Nine, you're fast!" said the stranger as he considered the younger woman before him. Syona held her pose.

"Seriously ... there's no need for that. I mean you no harm."

His hands rose in surrender.

"Says the man who snuck up on me," answered Syona. The man's grin pulled wider. "Trust me, kid, if I'd have wanted to harm you, I'd -- "

Caedmon's own Mind Blade emanated from his head in a horn of pure energy. Behind him the stranger felt it firmly press between the blades of his back.

"... be foolish to underestimate me," finished the Dreamer. It was Syona's turn to study him as she MINDRACED his form, his calloused hands and how he balanced his weight on the balls of his feet. He was a man who knew combat, and was skilled in the ways winning. Lowering her own stance she backed away. Caedmon did not.

"My name is Syona Marcello," said the Dreamer. "What are you doing here ... ?"

"Calder. Commander Jared Calder," replied the Officer. "Of the Empire of the Nine. And to be honest ... "

He crossed his arms over the hard muscles of his chest. "I have no idea where here ... is!"

Above them, another crow landed on the mill.

The two of them eyed one another, each taking the measure of the other. Commander Calder's thoughts were confused. Although Syona seemed quite young, her bearing and confidence bespoke someone much older and wiser than her apparent age. It was evident that she was not without her resources, and that she was skilled in the ways of combat.

As he waited for her to speak once more, he studied the landscape curiously. The air seemed heavy and oppressive, and he eyed the large black birds that dotted the windmill with apprehension. On Carthis, a raven was considered a bird of ill omen, and to see so many in one place was disturbing, to say the least.

T'Krehs' ominous presence was faint, but unmistakable. Perhaps he should warn his new acquaintance of the danger. "We're not alone here, Miss Marcello," he said at last. "My search for an old enemy is what brought me here. Have you ever heard of the Al'Ai?"

Syona cocked her head as she MINDRACED the term. The Al'Ai had never been mentioned in Archaen historical records, so she was forced to delve deeper. Commander Calder's will -- his presence on this realm of the Mindplane, however faintly, was affecting their surroundings, as much as the thrum of negative energy she had sensed before. It brushed against her own mind lightly as she recalled more information without --

An image reared in her mind of an insectoid being, shadowy and indistinct. As it entered her mind, its form constantly shifted and flowed, making it difficult to determine its true form. Was that what he was referring to?

Caedmon pawed a hoof as he sensed her distress.

"No, I haven't," she said finally. "So enlighten me. Who, or what, are the Al'Ai?"

- To be continued -

[richard]

Chapter 8

Interlude

Part 2:

By Lowell B. and Richard McKinley

Commander Calder studied Syona a moment longer, ordering his thoughts. Finally, he sighed heavily, and spoke. "The Al'Ai are a race of shapeshifters, as evil as they come. They originated on Zuros, a planet in the Empire of the Nines. No one knows their true form, but they are believed to be insectoid in nature. On my world, Carthis, we call them Bugs. Their Commander, T'Krehs, was responsible for the deaths of my wife and children. Now, he has returned to the Nine Worlds. He's the one I'm searching for. I can sense his presence here, but very faintly. There, I've given you some information. Now, it's your turn. Can you tell me where we are? I've never seen the like of it."

Suddenly, the murder of crows took to the air, cawing raucously. A chill wind sprang forth, threatening to knock them from their feet. Despite the wind's force, the blades of the windmill remained locked in place, blocking entry into the tall structure. Commander Calder found this odd, and began to edge toward the windmill, intending to get a closer look at it.

The crows moved as one, swarming around him, pecking and clawing viciously in an attempt to halt his advance, and preventing him from drawing his sunblade. Cursing, he backed away, and the crows settled back onto the windmill, eyeing the two Sentients watchfully.

"Looks like our feathered friends don't want us to enter the windmill," he said tightly. "Suddenly, I have an overwhelming desire to see what's inside. How about you, Miss Marcello?"

Syona had been studying the crows with rapt attention before allowing herself a nod. "Aye, but wait -- "

She saw her tone had the proper effect -- Calder stopped inches from touching the blocking vane. She continued. "My answer to your first question may have much to do with what's happening, and more ... why you are here."

Above them, more crows settled on the mill, and stared down at the two. They made no move against them now, but seemed to project a feeling of jubilant anticipation.

"You are in a fluid, miscellany reality that my people refer to as the Mindplane," said Syona, and the Commander stepped closer, his eyes sweeping their surroundings before settling on the young Archaen.

"I'm not sure what you mean," he said, furrowing his brow in frustration. "Fluid, miscellany, reality?"

Her slate-blue eyes cast up towards the mill and beyond, into the depths of the sky. "A Dream may be more apt," she suggested.

Calder crossed an arm over his chest, while his other hand rubbed lightly against his cheek. "All right ... let's back up," he said, his hand leaving his face to extend, palm outward, between them. "You're saying that all of this is because ... I'm dreaming?"

To his surprise the young woman's features remained tranquil as she shook her head. "Not precisely, no," she said. "This is constructed out of the dreams of all things."

Syona gestured with her hand, and the motion took in more than just the structures around them. Then, she continued her explanation.

"All living things, whether sentient or sapient, share a subconscious community. Some consider it to be the fifth dimension of existence. This is one corner of that infinite realm."

Again, Commander Calder glanced around before turning his attention to his feet. He kicked the ground experimentally, and it seemed real enough. Lifting his eyes, he gazed deeply over her shoulder, studying the countryside in wonder.

"I think I understand," he said finally. "In the Empire of the Nines, we call it the Shadow Realm. Everything in existence casts a shadow here. Some gifted individuals are able to travel in Shadow at will. I didn't think I was one of them, though."

He fell silent for a moment, and his gaze clouded over. Then, his gaze sharpened, and he said "All right, so ... why this? Why here at this windmill, surrounded by an endless field of corn?"

Syona followed his gaze as she answered. "Despite the Mindplane being a consensus reality, it's believed the accrued beliefs of all civilizations ... their faiths, their fears, their hopes and ... "

"Dreams?" added the Commander, a bemused smile on his face. She nodded, again showing no emotion.

"Yes. It's believed that sometimes they can manifest themselves here as permanent landmarks on the galactic psyche. Some we may see as gates, or portals, to concepts of the afterlife. Others may be creatures and beings of legend, myths, sacred artifacts. Even cities, lost empires and worlds unto themselves. All may be found here."

Calder let out a long whistle, and above them, the crows mocked the sound. "A sort of racial memory, you mean," he said at last.

"Yes," said the Dreamer. "May I ask... Is any of this familiar to you?"

Calder furrowed his brow as he studied their surroundings anew. "I can't say, really," he mused, "And yet ..." He looked around, and his gaze locked upon the distant Glow. Above them the crows hissed.

"You sense it too?" asked Syona in a low voice as she came to his side. "A pull, drawing us onward?"

"Yes," he whispered wonderingly. "What is it?"

"A city. A great crystal city of an emerald hue."

"Crystal? An entire city made of -- By the Nine!" He glanced at her in dawning comprehension. "Among my people, we view the Physical Realm as being composed of nine Elements, each imbued with their own unique properties: Water, Fire, Air, Matter, Shadow, Spirit, Earth, Metal, and Crystal. On Carthis, Crystal is the dominant Element."

"That explains much," said Syona thoughtfully. "Many of those are here in abundance. Perhaps Crystal is the dominant Element here as well."

"Clearly," replied the Commander. "Still, why am I ... or we, here? None of this seems strongly familiar to either of us," He stared expectantly at her.

"If I'm not mistaken..." Syona paused for a moment, then continued. "I believe we are in the hinterlands of a dream."

"Come again?" said Calder as they shifted back to the windmill together. Above them, more crows continued to gather.

"Honor-Calder, do you believe a dream can die?" asked the Archaen, staring searchingly into his eyes.

He paused for several moments, considering the question, then said "Die? As in, cease to exist?"

"Yes. If the Mindplane is created by the latent consciousness of a civilization, what happens if that civilization ... no longer exists?"

"Hold it, you're talking about ... extinction. Miss Marcello, last I checked my Empire -- my people -- are still alive and flourishing."

"Aye that, Honor-Calder, I did not mean to suggest that thought, but I wonder ... what of your people before the ALL?"

"Are you saying some of my people were ... were destroyed in that cataclysm?"

Syona shook her head. Black feathers wafted down from above. "Not necessarily destroyed, but perhaps cut off by whatever the Watchers did to save our universe."

Commander Calder's gaze was riveted upon her as she continued. "If part of your people existed in another dimension, or had crossed over to another realm when the Watchers severed dimensional travel, then it seems possible that... "

Above them, the crows cawed in mocking laughter. More feathers drifted down around them.

"The ALL could have cut them off from their dreams in our universe. Without your people as the source of this Dream, this may be all that's left of them."

Stepping back, the Commander studied the windmill, and said "That's why you believe this realm is dying. No disrespect, Miss, but -- "

"The corn," she said from behind him. He turned back to her. "It's gone to seed," she continued. "Look at it. It's been centuries ... aeons since it's been harvested. It's devouring this realm. Honor-Calder, all that's left is this road ... "

"And places like this," he added. He placed his hands on his hips, contemplating the enormity of the situation.

"Yes, this oasis, and the City itself," said Syona softly.

Walking past her, Commander Calder approached Caedmon. "Does this mean we're in danger while we're here?" His hand strayed to his sunblade.

"I don't believe so. Such a process would take aeons more for the world to be completely undone. To be sure, though, I would have to see signs of -- "

A thunderous roar ripped across the land, inciting the crows into a flurry of feathers and caws. They took to the air, blotting out the sun.

Calder froze, and Caedmon reared back onto his hind legs.

"By the Nine ... " breathed the Commander. "What in the Infernal Realm is going on?" His eyes screamed an unspoken question as he clambered past Syona and scurried up a vane.

"There!" he called down. His gaze swept over the rows of corn. "There's something moving through the corn fields, like a swell. It's milars away, but moving fast -- towards us!"

Their eyes met for a long moment. "Please tell me you know what it is, because it's huge!" he called down to her.

"It's chances of being here were quite low," she answered matter-of-factly.

"Evidently not low enough," said Calder with a snort. "What is it?"

It roared again, and the air seemed to tremble around them.

"A mimetic scavenger," she answered. "A Dream Eater."

"A Dream-Eater?" said Calder in disbelief. "The ones on Carthis are nowhere near as big. Maybe this thing is a projection of their thoughts? What does it want, anyway?"

"Us," said Syona simply.

The Commander released his hold on the windmill vane, dropping to the ground and rolling into a crouch, draq in one hand, sunblade in the other.

"It's not going to get me without a fight," he muttered tightly. "Are you ready, Miss Marcello?"

-- To be continued --

[richard]

Chapter 9:

The Crysallia, just off Scanlon Station

"Will you look at the size of that thing?" said Lieutenant Commander Seraian in reverent awe. "I can't begin to understand the technology that must have gone nto the construction of such an habitation!"

As she studied Scanlon Station, Princess Kitrianna was inclined to agree. She had always bee in awe of Skylar Station for its size and sophistication. However, Scanlon dwarfed Skylar in every way. Ships came and went as she watched, and the lights from the station blotted out the surrounding stars. It was quite an impressive sight.

"My sentiments exactly," she said, acknowledging Seraian's comment. "Nothing in the Empire of the Nines prepared me for this! We're just a tiny drop in an ocean of stars. What other wonders await us in the Greater Galaxy?"

"Only the Nine can say," said Seraian with a smile. "But right now, we have to warn our brothers and sisters about the Al'Ai. Shall we?"

Taking a deep breath, Kitrianna said "Arialla, open a channel to Skylar Station."

The Lieutenant's fingers flew over the controls, and she nodded. "Communications enabled, Kitrianna."

"This is Commander Kitrianna ni Celaria of the Crysallia, from the Empire of the Nines," she said briskly. "Request permission to dock, Scanlon Station."

"Roger, Crysallia, came voice over the speakers. "You are cleared for landing. Proceed to docking bay I-9, at the following coordinates. I will inform Lord Uatu of your arrival. May you have a pleasant stay aboard Scanlon Station, Commander Kitrianna."

"Thank you," she replied graciously. "May the blessings of the Nine be with you."

A set of coordinates had appeared on the monitor, and she turned to Ensign Tirith, saying "Plot a course to the coordinates on the screen, Tirith. Thrusters only, slow and steady."

Tirith nodded, and his fingers worked busily on the controls. The Crysallia swung about gently, moving forward to the designated coordinates. Scanlon Station loomed ever larger as the ship drew near, and a set of blast doors swung open to reveal the docking bay. The Crysallia glided smoothly through the entrance, and sparkled dazzlingly in the light of a thousand small bulbs. Ensign Tirith guided the ship expertly to the landing pad, and eased the Crysallia into a flawless landing. The blast doors swung shut behind them, and settled into place with a clanking hiss.

"Well done, Tirith," said Kitrianna in approval. "That was some fine flying. Kerren, I want a full diagnostic scan of shipboard functions. We need to know how the Crysallia held up to the stress of the long journey."

"Oxygen levels are satisfactory, but somewhat diminished," reported Kerren after a moment. "Hull integrity is intact. No noticeable damage. Power levels optimal, weapon systems intact. All in all, we're in pretty good shape, Kitrianna."

"Good to hear, Kerren," she said with a smile. "Our scientists are to be commended for their excellent workmanship. But, a ship is only as good as its crew, and I consider this crew one of the best. Good job, everyone."

Cheers rang out on the bridge, and Kitrianna smiled tolerantly. Let them celebrate; they had earned it. The trip through the Hypergate had been unsettling, to say the least. Still, it was a wonder of technology. Thousands of milars had been covered in mere moments.

"Open shipboard communications, Arialla," she said, and the Lieutenant complied. "Drakes and dames of the Crysallia, we have arrived at Scanlon Station. History has been made, and all of you are a part of it. We are the first of the Nine Races to set foot outside the Empire of the Nines. We have embarked upon a journey of discovery that few have ever dreamed of."

She paused for a moment, allowing the import of her words to sink in for her listeners. Then, taking a deep breath, she continued.

"I'm certain that all of you are eager to begin your exploration of Scanlon Station. However, some of us must remain behind in order to ensure that the Crysallia remains ready for action, should the need arise. A duty roster will be posted in our living quarters. We will work in shifts to ensure that everyone gets some well-deserved time off ship. Thank you all for your efforts, and for your cooperation in this matter. The duty roster will be posted within the hour. That is all for now. Kitrianna out."

"Well-said, Commander," remarked Seraian, his eyes showing his approval. "I'll call up a list of shipboard personnel on the computer. How do you propose we make our selection?"

"Make it a random selection with the following parameters, First: Three officers, three technicians, one medic, and two guards," she replied. "Four hour shifts. That should suffice for our needs. Have the roster ready in half an hour. Right now, I'm going to my quarters to make ready. You have the bridge, Seraian."

Seraian snapped her a smart salute, standing at attention. She returned the gesture, saying "As you were, First. See you in a while." With that, she was gone.

-- To be continued --

[richard]

Chapter 9:

Interlude

By Lowell B. and Richard McKinley

The Mindplane (Realm of Shadow)

A thunderous roar ripped across the land, inciting the crows into a flurry of feathers and caws. They took to the air, blotting out the sun.

Calder froze, and Caedmon reared back onto his hind legs.

"By the Nine ... " breathed the Commander. "What in the Infernal Realm is going on?" His eyes screamed an unspoken question as he clambered past Syona and scurried up a vane.

"There!" he called down. His gaze swept over the rows of corn. "There's something moving through the corn fields, like a swell. It's milars away, but moving fast -- toward us!"

Their eyes met for a long moment. "Please tell me you know what it is, because it's huge!" he called down to her.

"Its chances of being here were quite low," she answered matter-of-factly.

"Evidently not low enough," said Calder with a snort. "What is it?"

It roared again, and the air seemed to tremble around them.

"A mimetic scavenger," she answered. "A Dream Eater."

"A Dream-Eater?" said Calder in disbelief. "The ones on Carthis are nowhere near as big. Maybe this thing is a projection of their thoughts? What does it want, anyway?"

"Us," said Syona simply.

The Commander released his hold on the windmill vane, dropping to the ground and rolling into a crouch, draq in one hand, sunblade in the other.

"It's not going to get me without a fight," he muttered tightly. "Are you ready, Miss Marcello?"

"In a moment ... "

Pulling in a breath, her chest rose, remained still, then exhaled. Her eyes opened, and though they still reflected a calm demeanor, her complexion had paled a little. For an Archaen Dreamer, that was the equivalent of a scream.

"Commander I -- should be able to wake, to remove myself from this realm of my own free will and return to the Material Plane."

She closed her eyes again, and her forehead creased tightly in vexation.

"I -- I can't!"

A fourth and fifth roar thundered over the skies. More Dream Eaters were coming. Syona rushed over to Caedmon's side.

"Honor-Calder, whatever means you employed to arrive here, I earnestly suggest that you use it now to leave."

"I won't let you to face those things alone, Miss Marcello!"

Caedmon snorted and Syona patted his side.

"He meant no insult, Caed," she whispered to the Lightmare. Glancing up to Calder, she continued.

"We'll be fine. Few beings on the Mindplane can match the speed of a Lightmare. Our chances of escape are -- "

"You said it yourself -- " interrupted the Commander, "You can't leave! Speed or no speed, if those things surround you on the road, there'll be no escape, especially if you can't go into the corn."

The Dreamer glanced back the way she came, then back toward the direction of the Glow.

"Perhaps you're right, but there's no need for both of us to die." Her calm eyes fell on him. "Please, I beg you -- leave."

The two measured one another in a taut moment of silence.

"Can you be awakened from the Material Plane?" he asked. Her brow rose in a Dreamer's smile. Surprise, a rarity among her kind.

"Yes ... I believe so."

"Then give me the means to communicate with your people. If they can get to you ... "

"... Then I can be removed from this realm," she added, her head nodding in agreement. "Our ship is the HMS Executive, en route to your Empire. You may reach us on this secure diplomatic channel. Ask for my 'Sin-Guardian, Luer Pell, and speak this single word -- Omen. He will know what to do from there."

She relayed the secure channel. Satisfied that he had memorized the cypher code, she mounted Caedmon.

"All right," called out Calder. "But when this is done, I think we need to meet again in person. I have more questions I'd like to ask."

"As would I," replied the Dreamer. "Until then." Her chin raised with expectation, and Calder knew she was waiting for him to leave.

Closing his eyes, he concentrated. The corn rattled in the wind, merged with a growing sound, the clicking of multi-jointed legs. They grew louder.

"I ... I can't do it!" Beads of sweat peppered his brow as his eyes snapped opened. "By the Infernal Realm, what's happening?"

"Then we are both grounded," was the Dreamer's response. Her eyes cast downward in thought. "I had thought the first time to be an isolated incident."

"This has happened before?"

"Yes, less than a year ago I was in a similar situation. I believe the permanent nature of this ... psychic oasis is blocking us from returning. Perhaps it is the nature of the gold bricks of this road, or just the area itself."

"Since you're here, that means you escaped from the other place. So what's the secret?"

"We need to leave -- "

Caedmon's ears flickered. A churning flash darted out of the corn in a blur of multi-segmented legs. It darted with impossible speed toward rider and horse.

"Syona!" Calder drew and aimed his draq in one smooth motion. Caedmon was faster.

With a chambered foreleg, the Lightmare crushed the creature underfoot, snapping its spine in a bone crushing blow. Syona and Calder clapped their hands over their ears as the creature hissed in mortal agony, venom-dripping mandibles gnashing the air by killing reflex alone. Its legs (possibly a hundred) jerked and spasmed in its death throes, slowed to nervous twitches, and then remained still. Caedmon kicked it away with a fuming snort, and dragged his hoof to clear off the ichor.

The creature, a meter in length, withered into a tight curl. It's oily-black body was insect-like in appearance, one that reminded Syona of several species of metameric arthropods, or centipedes; only it was thicker, and the dripping fangs of its mandibles were disproportionately larger than the rest of its body.

The Dreamer turned to the corn. Closing her eyes, she was still for several moments.

"I'm ... MINDRACING our chances of survival now, Commander." She opened her eyes. Caedmon's light feet disturbed the dust underfoot as he swiveled around. "They're not good."

A delicate hand rose, staving off Calder's defiant look.

"I know, we are stuck here," she repeated, "but there's more to a battle than fighting."

He studied her. Another roar bellowed across the temperate air.

"You're talking about outmaneuvering them?" he replied.

"Yes. I can still lead them away." She looked at the creature again. "That was a little one. There'll be more of them, faster and larger in size. Up ahead, this oasis may not affect me, especially in the stretch of land between here and the Crystal City. If I can leave, I, too, can warn your people to rouse you from this dream."

"Then you'll need a proper channel to do so."

He relayed the information, yet the plan did not sit well with either of them. Calder could tell Caedmon could easily carry the two of them, but Calder's own extra weight would slow them down. Speed was needed if Syona planned to escape. Once she was gone he'd be left on his own. As a soldier he was prepared to defend himself, but Syona would be on her own too. Nothing about the situation felt right, but their options were limited. Having just met, they needed to trust one another more than anything.

"I'll try and buy you some time," called out the Dreamer, pulling Caedmon about in a circle. A disturbance could be heard coming over the bridge. There was no going that way now; only the the path to the city was left open. "See if you can get inside the windmill; it could hide your presence from them."

Calder's hands tightened on his weapons.

"Is it me, or does all of this feel like there's an intelligence behind it?" His voice rose above the clicking of the coming Eaters.

"Like we're being manipulated?" replied Syona.

"Yes. But more like a trap?"

"Absolutely."

He grinned at the Dreamer.

"Then good luck to you, Honora-Marcello." With the change of title, he was acknowledging a deep respect for the Archaen Dreamer. The gesture was not lost on her.

"Aye that, and to you as well, Honor-Calder. Ishtar willing, I'll see you on the other side. HIE!"

Caedmon bolted like a streak of light, and not a moment too soon. The Eaters clambered over the bridge and out of the corn. There were at least a dozen of the nasty creatures, and Commander Calder felt a surge of revulsion as they sped after Syona, ignoring him at the moment. Caedmon was very swift, and managed to keep his rider just ahead of the loathsome, oily-black larvae. For one so young, Syona certainly had her share of courage!

Turning his attention to the task at hand, Calder gripped the vane blocking the windmill door firmly, attempting to move it manually. It wouldn't budge. Whatever mechanism operated the structure whirred and clicked futilely, and he cursed out loud as he considered the problem.

A faint noise caught his attention, and he looked around, trying to pinpoint its source. It came again, and he recognized it as an attempt at speech. It seemed to be coming from the Tin Maiden who stood, frozen in time, a short distance away.

"Jinny?" he murmured in disbelief. Had the 'bot managed to follow him here somehow? It didn't seem likely, but he moved in for a closer look at it.

The Tin Maiden was quite primitive in comparison to JNY-024, and Commander Calder discarded the idea. She was only vaguely feminine in appearance, but her eyes held a faint spark of intelligence, along with a touch of desperation. She was carrying a bucket filled with some sort of oily substance in one hand, a work brush in the other. He considered the irony of the situation; her joints were crusted with rust. A bright red heart was painted on her chest.

"Some sort of iron alloy?" he mused, studying the Tin Maiden thoughtfully. "I wonder what you're doing here?"

"Oll nee," came a feminine voice, faint as a whisper. Was he imagining the faint tremor in the metallic torso? An index finger twitched in an attempt at movement. "Oll nee!"

"What's that?" said Calder, staring into the Maiden's eyes. "What are you trying to say? I can't quite make it out."

"Oy-ull nee, tleez," said the voice pleadingly. "Need oy-ull!" the bright eyes moved downward, indicating the bucket.

"Need oy-ull?" he said, still not quite comprehending. Then, it hit him. "Oil! You need oil! That's what you're trying to tell me. Hold on a moment, I'll see what I can do."

Commander Calder's eyes cast about, looking for something to oil the Tin Maiden's joints. His eyes fell upon the well-used work brush in her metallic hand. He clapped a hand to his forehead, cursing his obtuseness.

"One oil job coming up," he said with a laugh. "We'll have you moving about in no time, young lady."

The Tin Maiden made a sound of relieved approval as he moved to her side once more. He carefully worked the brush loose from her hand, then began with the jaw and mouth, working the jaw manually until it moved smoothly on its own.Then, he moved on to the neck, and the Tin Maiden spoke clearly to him.

"It's about time! I've been trying to get your attention ever since you got here. It took you long enough."

"I'd watch how you speak to me, if I were you," said Calder with an impish grin. "I could always get a bucket of water to pour over you."

"You wouldn't!" said the Tin Maiden, a touch of fear in her voice. "I mean... I'm sorry, sir. It's just that I've been frozen in place for stens. Do you have any idea what that's like? It feels so good to be able to move again! I've got to get the windmill working again. It's our only hope!"

Calder finished his ministrations with the knees and ankles, and the Tin Maiden moved around, unsteadily at first, but with increasing confidence. She gestured to her left knee, which had locked up, and he doused it liberally with oil. Finally, she sighed in satisfaction.

"You said the windmill is our only hope," he said then. "Our only hope against what? What's going on around here?"

"The Dream Eaters," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Those things chasing the girl are only children. The mother is surely not far behind. We have to seek shelter in the windmill, or we'll be destroyed."

Rustling from the corn field galvanized Commander Calder into action, and he called out to the Tin Maiden as he ran for the windmill. "Come on, then. I've got a feeling we're going to be needing that oil you're carrying. We've got to get the vane turning again."

"That's what I just said," said the Tin Maiden with a sigh. "It's my job to keep the windmill working. I got caught in a freak thunderstorm six stens ago, and rusted up tight. I'll boost you up to the center mechanism, and you can apply the oil. Hopefully, that will get it moving again."

"Sounds like a plan," said Calder agreeably. "By the way, what should I call you? Tinhead doesn't have a very nice ring to it. You can call me Calder."

"My designation is ANNIX-89, but you can just call me Annie, Calder. Let's get to work."

"You got it, Annie," he said with a grin. "Hand me the bucket and brush. We may get out of this yet."

-- To be continued --

[richard]

Interlude, Part 4

A great bellowing roar vibrated through the air, and Commander Calder glanced toward the cornfield apprehensively as he worked the oil into the gears of the windmill. He kept his knees slightly bent to balance himself as he stood on Annie's shoulders, and he bore his weight stoically, with no trace of discomfort.

The 'bot called out instructions in a loud whisper, and he did his best to carry them out to the letter. She had said that she was responsible for the upkeep and maintenance of the windmill, and he had decided to trust her experience and technical expertise in this matter.

"Almost done," he said after a few minutes. "The vane still seems to be locked in place, but I felt a tremor of movement. Let me get down from here, and we can try to rotate it manually."

Commander Calder jumped lightly to the ground, and nodded to the Tin Maiden. Together, they heaved at the windmill vane, and with a gut-wrenching shriek, it began to turn, jerkily at first, but smoothing out as the oil worked itself more deeply into the mechanism.

"That's done it," said Annie in approval. "Welcome back, old girl." Then, turning to the Commander, she continued. "Quickly, Calder! Get inside. The Dream Eater will be here any moment. We don't stand a chance against it!"

As if on cue, a huge creature burst forth from the corn, sending leaves and kernels flying in every direction. It was as large as a gargan, and its mandibles clicked together menacingly.

Commander Calder cursed loudly as he dashed through the open doorway, and Annie was right behind him.

The 'bot sang in a clear, beautiful voice, and Calder listened, entranced.

"Let those who came before us
Help us in our time of need;
Please protect us and conceal us
From the raging spawn of greed."

A loud humming filled the air, and a golden radiance emanated outward from the windmill. It formed an impenetrable shield, and the adolescent Dream Eater screeched in unholy rage as the energy backlash hurled it several ilars away from the windmill. It tried once more, with the same result, then slunk away, searching for easier prey.

"Syona," he whispered, his thoughts turning to the Archaen Dreamer. "Poor kid. I hope she makes it home all right."

It rankled him that he had been unable to aid her as she and Caedmon dashed away to save his hide. There must be something he could do to repay that debt in some manner.

As if in response to his thoughts, a soft glow illuminated the interior of the windmill. It seemed much larger from the inside, and resembled the control room of a spaceship or environmental pod. He moved to a well-lit panel, and examined it with interest.

The most prominent feature was a pair of bright green lights shaped like human hands. One of them seemed an exact match for his own, and on an impulse, he placed his hand, palm downward, upon it.

The light brightened, and Commander Calder's palm tingled unpleasantly. The tingle spread upward to his elbow, then to his shoulder. It took a great effort of will to keep his hand in place, but he persevered. A moment later, there was a gentle hum, and the tingling faded as the light dimmed once more.

A mechanical voice spoke, saying "Genetic imprint confirmed. Duine, one of the Nine Races of Avallach. Access granted, code yellow. What is your desire, Creator?"

"Oh, my," said Annie wonderingly. This has never happened before. The machine is programmed to respond only to the Creators. You must be one of them. Forgive me, Great One. I had no idea."

"Neither did I," said Calder wryly. "The name's Calder, not 'Great One'. There must be some mistake. I've never seen this place before now. How can I be one of the Creators?"

"What is your desire, Creator?" persisted the mechanical voice. Calder shook his head in disbelief as he considered the question.

"I'd like to know the whereabouts of a friend," he said at last. "An Archaen female named Syona Marcello. She would be riding a male Lightmare named Caedmon. Can you locate them?"

"Scanning," said the mechanical voice. "One moment, please."

A moment later, the computer monitor flared to life with a buzzing crackle, revealing Caedmon and Syona fleeing down the golden brick Road.

---------------------------------

The Lightmare's hooves thundered over brick and stone, the flash of impact measured in white-hot strokes of chain lightning as Caedmon's pace exceeded the speed of the wind. Ahead, the Road banked, and Syona looked into the curve, neither leading or guiding her mount, but moving as one as the Lightmare leaned into the turn.

Behind them the Larval Eaters dogged their heels, but even their multi-jointed legs could do little to close the gap between them and their prey. If it was a race, it was one of endurance.

The Road curved again, and Syona risked a look over her shoulder. More Eaters were streaming out of the corn. Their numbers were growing, but their behavior told her much. They were creatures of primitive instinct, and not guile. Otherwise, their gathering brethren would race out of the corn ahead of their prey, cutting them off, instead of being drawn to the sound of their growing numbers behind. That situation could soon change. Luck, if there were such a thing, seemed to be the only thing keeping them --

-- ahead, two Eaters emerged, jumping out of the corn. Caedmon trampled the first, and vaulted the other. The Lightmare landed without losing stride, but the horde behind them had gained. Syona could smell their acrid stench. Caedmon drew upon hidden reserves of strength, and went faster. Syona MINDRACED all the iterations of a Gosper Curve, her last game of Archaic Chess, and the incomplete translation of the writings of En'Lil of J'Alel -- anything to keep her mind and suppressed emotions from the moment she was in. A moment that could be her last.

She smelled the water before she saw the bridge, a second one, that loomed before them on the Road. Its center span had been washed away, leaving only the abutment and approaching span on either bank. The Dreamer had only seconds to take it in before Caedmon hit the first beams of the surviving deck and jumped --

The wind was in her face,
the memory of rain,
the glint of the sun,
the moment lasting, lingering between the jump ...
... and fall.

They landed - hard, in a cloud of brick dust and sparks. Caedmon slid to a stop with a defiant snort, turning about, his forelegs pawing the air, ready for battle. Syona's blade was drawn, lifted high for a Hanging Guard Cut, poised for death and more.

Nothing came.

Even after twelve heartbeats, the two stayed poised for battle, but nothing crossed the water. Syona counted to ten, breathing hard, eyes slicing their surroundings, ready for any sign of attack, yet their side of the bridge remained quiet. She counted again, slower this time. Caedmon lowered his legs, and when her heart rate returned to normal, she sheathed her blade.

"We're safe, Caed," she whispered. "The water's stopped them for now."

The Lightmare's neigh had a defiant tone, but she caught his meaning. If the Larval Eaters could not pursue them, then the creatures would double back for Calder. Quickly, they circled about, and surveyed their surroundings. Their vantage point was on higher ground, and afforded them a clear view. She could see that the water behind them was an irrigation canal, one as wide and deep as the first brook they had crossed. On the other side, through the rustle of corn, she could hear the restless movements of the Eaters where they were kept at bay. They either feared the water, or what lay within it.

*Perhaps both,* thought the Dreamer. She studied the surface of the water. It was dark and murky in color, and did little to reflect the world around it. Things stirred beneath, dark smudged shapes that prowled along with slicing movements. Caedmon back away, and she turned again.

The shack was in ruins. Decades, or centuries ago, it may have been a pumping station for the canal, or the abode of a toll collector. It was a shadowed husk of its former glory, patched with hay and cornstalks, though the construction and repair work had been expertly done. Where the hovel met the Road, the brick path forked to the left and right, slanting in a perfect 'Y' to move onward through the stalks. The dwelling lay at the base of the fork, and in front of it she saw the Startle-Man.

'He', she gathered from its masculine shape, hung from a post, arms spread wide in a rebellious pose. Like the shack, 'He' was expertly woven out of hay. He was dressed in a patched tunic of faded jute, and rust-colored trousers of the same coarse material. She clucked her tongue, and Caedmon walked closer.

Her sharp eyes noted how different the Startle-Man seemed from the Tin Maiden. Where the ancient metallic construct was trapped in a pose of eternal yearning, the Startle-Man's mien was imposing. His head was a hard knob of burlap crudely stitched to his neck and shoulders. Light glimmered off a single eye, a brass button sewn onto his face with black thread. The other was covered by an eye-patch of ebony leather. A dark capotain's hat with a dull brass buckle completed his sinister appearance, giving him an air of something designed to do more than just startle crows. Another item that caught her attention. The Startle-Man's boots were half hidden in the corn he was erected above, but even from where she stood she could --

-- The roar broke over the fields like a thunderclap. Rider and mount snapped about, blade and Mind Blade ready for battle.

"Ishtar take me for a fool," muttered the Dreamer.

The Larvae Eaters hadn't halted their advance out of fear of the water. A second roar blasted through the air from the other side of the canal, closer this time. A Dream Eater was coming. Caedmon bolted down the road, reaching full speed in three quick strides. Syona guided him down the left side of the fork and past the shack, but the road narrowed to less than two meters wide.

Suddenly, ahead of them, Larvae poured out of the left leading edge of the corn. They collided with each other in a mad, scrambling charge. Syona pulled rein, forcing Caedmon into a tight slide. The Lightmare gathered his feet under him as he wheeled about, and raced back in the direction they had come. The air grew cold and still, and a fetid, churning stench assailed their nostrils. The Eaters were snapping at their heels. Jumping back over the canal would be certain death, Syona realized. They needed to arc around to the right side of the fork and --

The Larvae suddenly stopped.

Syona risked a look. All the creatures turned and fled back down the Road. She knew what that meant. Her nostrils flared, and it took all her will to the suppress the cold shiver of fear that clawed up her spine as she turned back. Across the canal, the Dream Eater burst upward from the line of corn, its forty meter obsidian hulk writhing with sickening shapes.

"Don't look!" shouted Syona, averting her eyes. Caedmon lowered his head, and the two of them circled around the front of the shack to bear down the right side of the fork. The Dream Eater's bulk crashed across the ruined bridge, shaking the ground, and shattering what remained of the structure.

Caedmon reached deep within himself, and pushed his speed to the utmost, traveling faster than ever before. Corn flashed by in a green and yellow blur. The air was sucked from Syona's lungs, and tears stung her eyes. Behind them, the earth trembled under thundering footfalls, building in pace and speed as the Dream Eater pursued his prey.

Another bellowing roar rang out, and Syona saw the passing cornstalks bend under the force of the sound. The Road snaked and turned, forcing them to hug each camber, slowing them down, while the Dream Eater arrowed straight for them, ignoring all obstacles, like a demonic juggernaut. She could feel its heinous presence clawing at her mind, its ravenous hunger building as it drew nearer. Death would only be a matter of time.

The Dreamer lowered her lips to her loyal mount's ear, saying "Caedmon, forgive me. Our journey ends today ... "

CAAAAAW!

The crows rose up from the road, thousands of them, a wall of wings and talons. Syona and Caedmon crashed headlong into the flying mass. Pain raked her shoulders. Hollow bones and plumage burst against her chest. She lost her grip on her reins. Something slashed her cheek. Caedmon grunted. The crows mercilessly battered his legs and face. Suddenly, he screamed, and twisted beneath her. Syona heard the Dream Eater bellow in her mind. Her fingers were wet with blood. Caedmon lurched and she felt her body ...

... tumble.

She was falling, twisting end over end. She watched as cloud and sky keeled overhead. Her fingers felt the brush of leaves. A cool dampness began to envelope her. Darkness ...

Syona Marcello had fallen into the corn.

--------------------------------------

Commander Calder watched the scene unfold with mounting horror. Syona, covered in blood, had fallen into the corn. Caedmon gave a defiant whinny, drawing the enormous beast's attention away from his fallen rider. The Lightmare danced in to attack, heedless of his own injuries, then backed away as massive jaws snapped the air where he had once stood. Slowly, the magnificent creature drew the Dream Eater away from Syona. Then, he sped away, the Dream Eater in hot pursuit, until the computer could no longer detect their presence.

"I have to go to her!" exclaimed Calder. "She was trying to protect me. I can't leave her at the mercy of those things. Computer, what are the Archaen's coordinates?"

"Latitude 42 degrees north/northwest, longitude 170 degrees, 8 minutes," answered the computer promptly. "Approximately 37 milars from our current location."

"Wait!" said Annie, placing a restraining hand upon Calder's shoulder as he turned toward the exit. "It's no use, Calder. She fell into the corn. Nothing ever returns from the corn. She's lost to us. I'm sorry."

"I can't accept that!" he shouted heatedly, wheeling angrily on the 'bot. "There must be something I can do!"

"Stay," said Annie persuasively. "Learn all you can about this Realm and its inhabitants. Find a way to break the curse that plagues the Realm. Then, her sacrifice will not have been in vain. If you rush out there, you'll die with her. The curse will continue, and this Realm will be swallowed by the Darkness. Is that what you want? Is that what she would want?"

"No," he muttered bitterly, jerking free of the 'bot's hold. "Infernal Realm take us, you're right. Lifting this 'curse' is the best way to honor her memory. But, right now, I need some time alone to think."

He stalked away, making his way to an interior cubicle. After singing a Song of Warding to ensure his privacy, he settled, frowning, into a meditative posture. Annie shook her head sadly as Calder seethed with suppressed emotion.

-- To be continued --