Sifting through the ashes

I always wondered when I watched a movie or read a book with an epic battle at the climax what happened after all the celebration and ceremony.  This is my way of telling this pivotal part of the tale of Aen and the remains of the Galactic Empire; telling a type of story that doesn't usually see the light of day.  While both the cover and the book itself are a work in progress, here is the synopsis now to entice you while you wait.

Synopsis:

Fifty years have passed since the Dark Lord was beaten, and little of what once was the Empire of Light remains.  Humanity has risen high to take the reins of power in the vacuum left once the Imperial Grand Council, which was dissolved very unceremoniously.  The Human Naval Council is relentless in its pursuit to assert human kind as the new dominant force with all who oppose them running in fear.  And tops in their list of enemies is the Harbinger himself; Aen.

Aen withdrew completely from all life, and though he is mightily hunted, he has hidden in a place so isolated he cannot be found.  Here, he obsesses over the promise he made to Iana, and calls upon the stars themselves to help him complete this final task which anchors him to a life he no longer cares for.  His soul broken from his losses, he sees the truth in all that has happened, and all that is beginning to transpire.  He has awaken from his slumber, and he is angry.

A stranger appears from nowhere, and her very presence threatens to unwind eons of carefully crafted plans.  Her mission is to seek out Aen, and push him to complete this promise to Iana, and fix all that has been broken.  But to do that, they will uncover secrets old enough to be forgotten by history, and meet races so ancient, they had become myths. 

A sneak peak of what is coming...


Empire of Ashes

One;
 
 
 
Paxyn Ultra Class Cruiser; Lost Goddess; Edges of the Milky Way Galaxy
 
Fifty years after the Great Galactic War had ended, and the victors still shuffled about in the rubble left behind.  The Empire of Light was reduced to ashes, and each of its various races had all but broken allegiances politically; though some were still held together by treaty laws and agreements.  For ages, the races of the J’Karin and the Paxyn had been the main powers in the galaxy, but now that power had been taken by threat of force by the upstart Human Naval Council.
 
Aboard the Paxyn Ultra Class cruiser, these political issues were a non-factor as it explored the outer reaches of the galaxy.  The Lost Goddess was a hunter-killer vessel – completely different from her predecessors of the Lyarran Empire – and a result of the new age they all lived in.  Unlike the humans, the Paxyns had changed philosophies completely when it came to their ships building, having tons of salvaged Husk technology at their disposal.  Earth had their attackers decimated by the Zeus which left little to be gleaned from the debris, while the Lyarran Empire had a run of their own at the Husk before the monster Zeus arrived.  Now, despite the claims of the humans having the most powerful fleet in the galaxy, the Paxyns had quietly built their own juggernauts; each making the old Imperial vessels look like dinosaurs.
 
The Lost Goddess wasn’t the first off the line, but she was one of the best.  Commanded by the Hero of Paryon, Council Dayell proudly guided her ship and its inhabitants in search of enemy survivors from the war.  The six foot, six inch Paxyn woman stood tall with her bluish-green hair tied back and her similarly colored eyes scanned the darkness for her prey.  It was known there had been both Husk and Valkyrie vessels that escaped destruction, and it was the decree of the Paxyn Congress to exterminate each and every one of them; hence the first few ships in the Ultra Class of cruisers were sent out to the far reaches of the outer rim to go hunting.  Dayell was one of the most successful of the ship commanders in this mission; her relentless hate for the two races for their part in her Empress’ death drove her to be the best.  Once she had a target, she pursued it until it was no more.
 
Each of the four ships had rendezvoused at the Dalanth Nebula – the last known bastion for the enemy – and set out in opposite directions.  Known throughout all the galactic residents as the Four Horsemen – a nickname given by human migrants who named them as such – the Paxyn ships were regarded as friends, but extremely dangerous none the less.  After hearing the nickname at a docking station near the Vereyen system, she had to research the namesake before a giggle escaped her usually hardened resolve.  The name fit, and she fashioned that the Lost Goddess was the Horseman of Death.
 
Currently, her ship was now hunting in dangerous territory, as far away from the Paxyn home world as possible and deep behind the Sol System.  While the humans had expanded their borders to two other star systems, they would be hard pressed to find the Lost Goddess so far behind Terra Sol’s place in the galaxy; and in her mind, they could do little if they did know. 
 
Her ship was completely different from the Imperial class ships still in use by the Paxyns.  Its shape was that of a tubular triangle with four rectangular engine pods running from her halfway point and extending past the end of the ship.  Its total length was twenty-two kilometers, but it wasn’t the size that made these four ships so intimidating.  On its bow stood the main cause for their fearsome reputation; a triad of dark matter cannons were nestled into the triangular shape of the nose, and were surrounded by half sized orbital Plasma Accelerator Cannons lining each edge of the triangle sides.  And along her hull were scattered plasma cannons for defense, as well as countless positioning thrusters to keep the Lost Goddess in the best firing position possible.  They all had hulls plated with titanium, thus making them shine like the elegant swords in the night they had been created to be.
 
Now, forty-five years since her launch, the Lost Goddess was battle proven and had the reputation to match.  Dayell had a no bullshit approach to everything she did, and any who had come across them had realized that quickly.  Her sharp and creative mind – which had earned her a posting in the outer rim in the pre-war Empire – was as keen as ever, but her friendly persona had hardened from the losses of her friends and all she held dear in the war.  Her crew was handpicked and fiercely loyal, as was every being in the general populace of the near hundred thousand civilians in the city within her belly.  Her confidence in her ship had been earned, especially after a few meetings with the HNC warships in their travels.
 
Shortly after the now famous Grand Council meeting in which Aen had disappeared, the Lost Goddess had returned to the outer rim to continue the hunt.  During this time that tensions between humans and the other galactic races were high, and in her mind it was no coincidence that they had happened upon a pair of warships as they were in between jumps and venting the engines.  At first, she had paid little attention to the human vessels, but that changed when scanners showed they had gone to high alert and targeted the Paxyn ship.  The Lost Goddess was always on alert and her weapons hot, and though the HNC ships were clearly overmatched they stood their ground.  The first of the two human warships – not even a quarter of the size of the Paxyn monster – fired a warning shot across their bow to halt the passing Lost Goddess for confrontation. 
 
Not having patience for this crap, Dayell had taken the controls and used the maneuvering thrusters to spin the mighty Ultra Class cruiser quicker than thought possible to bring her fearsome bow to face the challengers.  She opened the baffles on the Dark Matter cannons, and then opened a channel to hail the humans.  She offered them a take it or leave it offer; back down and leave immediately, or die.  If her memory served her right, the words she used in the human language called English were “Fuck off or become ghosts”.  Maybe it was the way she phrased her displeasure with the meeting, or maybe it was the fact the smaller vessels were looking down the hellacious barrels of her main arsenal that got a quick retreat from the aggressors.  It wasn’t the last meeting with the HNC, but her reputation from that first meeting ensured better manners for the following ones.
 
It had been five years now since they had encountered another civilized world or vessel, but in that time they had plenty of prey that had been killed with brutal efficiency.  And they also had come upon plenty of older planets, long abandoned but full of ruins that predated the former Empire by a millennia.  It was a constant reminder of the present state of the galaxy that nothing lasted forever, despite how strong and powerful they may be.  And then they happened upon a surprise last year, a Husk hive world in full operation.  Here, they were engaged by five massive Husk Capitol ships quickly; all of which had been destroyed without a bead of sweat from the crew’s brow.  Dayell then ordered an orbital bombardment of any possible launch sites before they retreated to a safer position and fired all three Dark Matter cannons at the planet itself; the energies reacted upon impact and obliterated the entire world.
 
They marked their kill with a buoy for further exploration and investigation before going about their way.  The last year had been quiet, at least until today.  Today Dayell had been roused from her sleep by alarms, but once she arrived in the Operation Control room she discovered it wasn’t because they had a new target.  Her eyes struggled to comprehend what she was looking at on the ninety inch forward display screen, so she rubbed them to wipe the drowsiness away and looked once more.
 
In the distance – about fifteen million miles off the starboard side – was what at first looked like a jumpspace field being opened, except this one was a whirling orange and purple storm of epic proportions within the usual lightning chaos of a normal field.  It was definitely not normal, and was not a natural phenomenon.  It didn’t take long for Dayell to react and start issuing orders.
 
“I need a readout on radiation from that thing!” she hollered to bring the Ops Con room to life again.  “Get us to twenty million kilometers distance and swing us around to be facing whatever emerges nose on.  Open the baffles on the DM cannons and get your finger on the trigger.”
 
Her orders were executed quickly, and within moments the Lost Goddess was positioned and ready for action.  What they weren’t expecting was what happened next.  Soon after they had made their adjustments, the strange field began to pulsate and spat out three energy concussion waves which struck the Lost Goddess’ shields hard.  The ship shook and shuddered, but the shields ultimately held with only a few minor injuries reporting in soon afterwards.  The waves were followed by a geyser-like eruption which extended out nine million miles from the epicenter.  This event took them all by surprise, but after a few seconds it began to subside as the entire field around it collapsed with an energetic explosion.  Everyone in Ops Con shaded their eyes from the intense light of the event, and when their hands were lowered none of them was in more shock than Council Dayell.
 
Gone was the field, but where the geyser had peaked there was a lone and heavily damaged ship left behind.  It was old, beaten up, and heavily modified with a jumpspace reactor from a much larger vessel attached to her rear along with other unknown alterations.  It was an older Imperial frigate class ship, and though its classification and registration numbers weren’t flashing on the screen from the Friend or Foe tags they all had then – and still do – Dayell instantly recognized it; she was staring at the Nirad for the first time in fifty plus years.
 
“Impossible!” she exhaled.
 
“No confirmation on name or class,” her first officer called out, “But she has marginal power and leaking radiation everywhere.”
 
“It’s the Nirad,” Dayell muttered.  “My Nirad; and that is the most impossible fact of everything we have seen so far.”
 
“Didn’t it…” her first officer began.
 
“She was within the main repair bay of the Dark Light when it was destroyed fifty years ago in the battle of Lyarra,” she exclaimed with her bluish-green eyes transfixed on her former home for many a year.  “So either we are looking at a miracle, or this is a ploy to get us to drop our shields to investigate further.”
 
“She’s scanning us!” cut in the navigation officer.  “Her reactors are getting hotter by the second; possibly unable to cool down from whatever just happened.”
 
“Any life signs?” Dayell asked.
 
“One life sign showing.” The response came from beside her,
 
“Reactors going critical!” the nav officer shouted.  “She’s ejecting an escape pod in our direction!”
 
“How long until she blows?” The Council demanded.
 
Her answer came as a bright flare extended out of the makeshift reactors vertically in either direction before the Nirad exploded completely, letting loose a wave of energy pushing out in all directions from the blast.  As if knowing what was coming, the escape pod opened up a rear blast shield on its flank to protect it before being impacted by the blast.  A few moments later, the blast was over and the only thing remaining was the pod.
 
“Send out an Ifierin manned shuttle and retrieve the survivor,” Dayell ordered.  “I want Captain Gorvan to meet me in the shuttle bay in ten minutes; we’re going to get some answers from whoever was in that thing.”