Homeworld Conflict

by Lily Lain

Bodies

The warmth on his face and hands was growing cold, uncomfortably cold. His legs a shaking cotton, he retreated to a nearest table and put the gun on top of it. He produced a handkerchief from within a pocket of his suit and carefully removed the stains from his hands first, then his face.

The seconds his body was numbed by shock were trickling away. Only after carefully examining his clothes to distinguish foreign blood from his own, he noticed a stab wound in his thigh. It wasn’t deep by military standards, as in it didn’t reach the bone, but there was a steady trickle of blood from it, and it looked all too welcoming for an infection.

He moved swiftly to the nearest expensive, ornate royal curtains, and tore them apart with strong, decisive movements. With this makeshift bandage, he secured his leg tightly, then found the nearest chair to sit in, hoping it would be enough to lessen the bleeding and not cause too much exertion on his wounds. His mind would kick in soon.

First there was the smell. The overwhelming, characteristic stench of blood. He dared not look at the bodies. The sound returned to him gradually, first he could hear his breath, then some shouts in the hallways, then the screams from the outside.

“You’ve killed them. I can’t believe you’ve just killed them,” the Griffin King said quietly.

His mind was kicking in too fast. His hands curled into fists.

“For the ancestors’ sake! They were fine Griffins!” The King didn’t notice the glare piercing him through.

The advisor stood up and loudly smashed the table he was standing by, effectively silencing the King. “I’ve never asked for it! I’m a bloody pacifist! I didn’t explicitly tell those wazzocks from Fleet Intelligence to get me an Ambassador seat just so I could toy with guns!”

The King backed off a bit.

“And if you, bloody bastard, didn’t give personal protection to shifty arse-lickers, then perhaps, just bloody perhaps, we’d be in a different situation!” The advisor, although he didn’t always have his eyes trained on the King, never looked at the bodies.

“What happened? I’ve heard gunsho–“ The speaker rushed into the room, but stopped abruptly when he saw the advisor’s bloodied uniform. His discipline and fear overpowered his curiosity. He didn’t look down. “I’ll get our soldiers. The Carrier is on the way... I’ll get you some bandages too.” He was off.

The King looked grateful for the interruption. His claws clicked infuriatingly across the floor when he paced back and forth. Click. Click. Click! Click! Click! Click! A glare from the advisor made him stop and sit on a nearest chair.

The speaker was accompanied by two soldiers this time. “A stab wound.” He walked closer to the advisor, careful not to look down too soon. “Please, remove the bodies, give them at least somewhat proper burial. Burn them or whatever it is Griffins do.” His voice trailed off.

“They don’t deserve a proper burial,” said the advisor decisively and almost immediately winced when his makeshift bandage was unravelled. “Throw them out the window, let them rot with the rest.”

The speaker didn’t object, and neither did the soldiers. The enormous windows were opened, the bodies promptly dragged, leaving a bloodied trail in their wake, and thrown off into the streets, to rest among the other dead. Not one of the loyalists showed surprise when they noticed the bodies falling from the castle’s windows. The traitors hid everywhere.

A Griffin magician, the still loyal one, visited and kindly removed the bloodstains from the floor with a spell. It seemed that no one had ever died in the vast chamber, and if one shut the windows to the shouts and screams outside, turned off the radio to the constant reports of death and destruction, and closed their eyes to the pale faces and frightened stares, one could imagine there never was a war outside.

“It’s ready,” said the speaker, nodding at the bandage. “Don’t move this leg around too much. Actually, it’d be better if you didn’t move from this spot at all. Just sit here.”

The advisor gladly complied. He thanked the speaker with a nod.

“The Carrier is setting up nearer to the ground. The Corvettes are already here, the Inhibitor will follow soon. I doubt there’ll be anything hostile moving in here, but we must be prepared for the worst,” said the speaker.

He didn’t look at anyone when he said these words. He walked to the nearest window and gazed outward, not at the city, but at the blue skies above, clouded and darkened with swarms of ships, lit at times by the stars that rose from below and exploded into supernovae in their vain attempt to chase this artificial, swarming night away.

“Hey, you!” the advisor called to one of the soldiers who stood guard at the room’s entrance. “Go tell the Carrier we’re holed up here. Lead them here, if necessary, the castle’s a damn maze.”

“Understood!” The soldier saluted and went away through the endless corridors.

“Does swearing make you feel better?” said the speaker, perhaps because of some sensitivity, or perhaps because he desperately wanted to break the silence.

“Why, bloody yes!” The advisor placed his hands on his knees to keep them from shaking uncontrollably.

“Oh. All right then.” The speaker’s small voice barely even reached the advisor. It didn’t help that the former refused to turn toward him.

The enormous carrier blocked the sun when it came to hover motionlessly over the castle, like a divine testament to its lord’s power. The king was a vassal only to the heavens, the texts said, and heavens have now came down to wage war against the profane.

Comments

[Taltharius]

The Carrier is a standard Kushan design, correct?

[Lily Lain]

7553704 Yeah, I generally go for standard Kushan designs, with some logically added functionality not really mentioned in the game (cloning bays/soldier housing). I don't want to rush with ship designs from other games right away, especially that at the time of writing of this fic, I'd only played the first game.

[Taltharius]

7553746
I figured, but didn't want to assume. Of course, considering that the Kushan Carrier is between 500-1000 metres in length, it would easily blot out the sun over the Griffon castle, all by itself.