The moment Orn got back on deck, he took the commander's seat. He was lucky—he hadn't lost anyone. In the end, it turned out
that the biggest danger to his people on this mission had been himself rather
than the assassins or, as it stood now, the Norkel.
Orn had already made his peace with the fact that he was two minds in one body. The worst part about it all was that he could never
tell if he was the copy, the second consciousness that had formed as a result
of the curse of being a Psionic. A side effect, but mostly everyone called it a curse. Perhaps Cornelius was the real one between the both of them, but they'd both learned not to care about nuances like that from a very young age.
Instead, Orn had likened it to having an elder brother—a psychotic, murderous,
and extremely arrogant elder brother, but a brother nonetheless.
He didn't know if this meant he was crazy. In this age, there was a high threshold for what you would call mentally unstable, and he wasn't sure he hadn't surpassed that level yet. But still, he could feel Cornelius at the back of his mind. The only thing he wanted or cared about right now, though, was actually Hera.
It made Orn feel weird. He had no idea where the sudden fascination with Hera came from, but he hadn't been happy to see her hurt, so
Orn at least knew he had to pay a little bit more attention to his concubine.
"Power up all weapons, aim for center mass. I only want one volley of shots to take it down," Orn ordered, his voice crisp
and clear across the bridge. "It's injured enough as it is, and any more
heavy attacks will ruin the Norkel for harvesting. Prepare to fire at my
command!"
The crew responded immediately, bringing the Honest Star into position to line up with the still-rampaging Norkel. Orn wanted to
make sure there was as much of the beast's body preserved as possible. He
didn't expect anything from the Empress Dowager, so it would be best if he
ensured he at least got something out of this endeavor. The more of the Norkel
that was left intact, the more credits he would get from its purchase, and he'd
be able to sink some money into his own forces.
The Norkel, on the other hand, kept its attention
wholly focused on the fortress. The rage it used thundered through the remnants
of the building, and as it tore it apart, the last of its still-functional
weapons systems went off. The blast pushed the Norkel back into the air as it
let out a pained screech before coating a tentacle in visible, vibrating psi
energy. It threw the massive tentacle down on the building, cleaving it in two.
The fortress blew up with an extremely powerful explosion—the Norkel had
probably smashed through its fuel source.
For the Honest Star, it wasn't that much of a problem.
They were still quite a distance away from the site of the attack. The Norkel,
on the other hand, showed that even if it was a giant space creature with
advanced Psionic capabilities and could survive in the vacuum of space, it was
still nothing more than an animal—all instincts and no tactics.
The flames washed over the Norkel. Its blood, spread out around it and leaking from its wounds, served as an accelerant. Orn
wouldn't say it spontaneously combusted, but by the time the flames died down,
very little of the Norkel was left without severe burns. The creature itself hung listlessly, almost devoid of life, as everyone on the bridge held their breath in silence.
"Is it dead?" Orn heard Hera asking.
He shook his head. Even from this distance, he could still feel the vibrant life force of the Norkel. "No. It's definitely not dead yet, though it's taken significant damage. Won't take much more to bring it down for good, but..." He paused, an idea forming. "Another avenue just presented itself."
Orn turned to Hera. "Connect me to the Grand
Imperator."
Hera nodded, quickly moving to establish the
connection.
Orn turned back to face the Norkel, his eyes tracking it's ruined body as plans filtered through his mind. A hologram flickered to
life in front of him, and his father's visage appeared in full display. The man
seemed to have aged a few years, but then again, considering their last interaction with the Empress Dowager, it was hard to blame him. Orn did take a
certain level of satisfaction from it though. The old man should experience what it meant to play with someone else's life the way the Empress Dowager seemed
ready to play with theirs.
"If you're calling me, that means you've carried out the Empress Dowager's task." His father's voice was measured,
controlled. "I take that also means the Norkel has been neutralized?"
Orn nodded, military etiquette still driving his
actions despite their personal tensions. "Affirmative, sir. The Norkel has
been neutralized, and it's still breathing. Though for how long, I cannot say.
How quickly can your cleanup crew get here? I'm sure the creature would be far
more valuable alive, even in its current... pitiful state."
The general raised an eyebrow, then nodded. "Hold your position for three hours. I'll send in a request to the emperor for
permission to use FTL within the Rim. I'll come pick it up myself. After that,
you can continue on your journey to the Keres jump gate." He paused, and
something that might have been approval flickered across his features.
"All of the officers you've chosen are on their way. Also, send the feeds
from your ship's black box to me. I'll have my assistant create propaganda to
improve your image. Should help you get better recruits at the Keres
station."
There was another pause, longer this time.
"You've done well, Orn. But next time, remember to
keep your mouth shut."
Orn blinked, then sighed. He'd let his annoyance at the
entire situation get the best of him. He was of the policy that if you tried to
kill him, he would return the favor with every fiber of his being. Now he had
no choice but to call his attempted murderer "mother" and her
accomplice "wife."
He shook his head as he turned to his crew.
"Keep all sensors working at full power, and put
the ship behind some debris. Should give us some cover in case anyone else
arrives to investigate. But keep the engines hot—we move for Keres in three
hours." He paused, his gaze finding Hera. "Major Hera?"
"Yes, Admiral?" Her response was immediate,
professional.
Orn smirked beneath his mask. "Attend to me."
Hera's face darkened, but she still snapped off a
salute and followed after him as he left the bridge. The moment they were out
of earshot of the crew, walking down the corridor toward their quarters, Orn
surprised her by asking, "What do you think about all of this?"
Hera blinked, startled and caught off guard. Orn was
asking for her opinion? It made no sense to her, but she answered nonetheless,
with as much brutal honesty as she could manage.
"You're a fool for challenging the Empress
Dowager." She didn't mince words, her tone sharp. "But considering
the reason why you did so... most wouldn't blame you. Yet you know the world we
live in. Your reckless actions have put everyone aboard this ship in
danger." She took a breath, her frustration bleeding through. "And I
know you don't care. I can see it in your eyes as clear as day—your goals are
all that matters. But these people also have mothers and sisters, brothers and
fathers they'd like to get home to. And I believe as long as they serve as your
crew, you have a responsibility to ensure that they remain safe."
Orn paused mid-step, then turned to the side so that
only one of his eyes was on Hera. She felt her heart skip a beat, a sensation
she furiously tried to smother. Was that fear? Shock? Something else entirely?
She controlled her thoughts with an iron will born from years of training, but
that all unraveled due to the next words to escape Orn's lips.
"Cute."
Hera blinked, her mind going blank for a second.
"W-what?"
Orn shrugged, almost casual, as he pointed at her.
"This sense of morality that you have... I find it cute."
Hera's face turned a shade of red, fury bubbling up
from deep within. But before she could say anything, Orn turned and continued
moving down the corridor, his voice carrying back to her.
"Your sense of morality means nothing if you don't
have the power to back it up, Hera. And to attain the kind of power that would
afford you a moral compass in the Aegean Empire, you have to climb a mountain
of corpses." His tone wasn't mocking now—it was matter-of-fact, almost
gentle in its brutality. "Don't be naïve, Major Hera. You're my concubine
now, which means it's us against the rest of the universe. No time to care
about anyone else, not with the kind of ambition you and I have."
As he moved away, she felt something snap inside her.
Her hand shot out, grabbing his shoulder and stopping him from moving forward.
"And what is yours?" Her voice was low,
intense. "What are your ambitions that there's no space to care even for
the people placed under you?"
Orn shrugged, then turned, and even through his mask
she could tell he was smiling with his eyes. "I'm sure you'll find out
soon enough. You can't have all my secrets so soon. After all, we just got
married... or bonded. I'm not so sure about the terms when it comes to
'concubines.'"
The way he said that last word—concubines—like it was
something distasteful, like that was all he was reducing her to. An extra woman
to warm his bed and carry his children. Hera narrowed her eyes, her jaw
clenching.
She said nothing else, just fumed silently as she
followed him back to their shared quarters. Three more hours until they resumed
their journey. And the sooner they got to the Keres jump point, the sooner she
would have other subordinates and tasks to keep her busy rather than hanging on
the whims and orders of Cornelius Orn Reese and his smug, know-it-all attitude.
But even as she thought this, a small part of her—a
part she refused to acknowledge—wondered what secrets he was hiding. What drove
a man to act like he had nothing to lose when he clearly had everything to
gain?
She hated that she wanted to know.