Three Square Meals Ch. 092

"I'll make sure the Trankaran Republic becomes a strong ally for you in the fight against the other Progenitor," Niskera said, giving him a supportive smile.

"And I'll do whatever I can to help you in the upcoming battles," John said earnestly. "I need to discuss the details with Edraele, but my plan is to redirect a substantial Maliri fleet to assist you. They have powerful warships and will be a huge help against the Kirrix."

Niskera pulled him into an unexpected hug, wrapping him in her strong arms. "Thank you for giving me hope again. I thought all was lost... then you swept in and changed everything."

John stroked her back. "As I said to Thandrun: I like the Trankarans, I don't want to see anything bad happen to your people. I promise I'll do whatever I can to protect you and the Republic."

The Trankaran woman gave him a grateful smile. "Speaking of Thandrun, I need to speak with him as soon as possible."

"Why don't you get yourself ready and we'll accompany you to the Anvil," John said kindly, rising to his feet.

Alyssa stood with him, then turned to give Niskera a coy smile. *There's no rush, but have a good think about your long-term future. When all the fighting's done, if you find you're not happy and it doesn't work out for you on Trankara, you'll always be welcome to join us.* She sensed Niskera's sudden curiosity, and turned slightly, giving the Trankaran a good look at her body. *You'd look gorgeous as a glowing Maliri... Me, John, and the girls wouldn't be able to keep our hands off you!*

John noticed the strange, thoughtful look that Niskera was giving Alyssa and he glanced at the blonde. "Am I missing something?"

"Just girl talk, nothing to worry about," she said enigmatically, sharing a smile with the Trankaran woman.

***

Thandrun gazed at the holo-screen, then pressed a button to play the message back again, wanting to remember every detail. The data crystal had been delivered to him by a wounded Legionnaire, as the Kirrix's had destroyed the intervening comms beacons, disrupting direct communication between the planet Khalgron and Thandrun's fleet.

Sub-Warden Dhormun's blocky grey features appeared above Thandrun's desk, the Trankaran soldier beginning his message with a respectful bow. "I sincerely hope that this report safely reaches your hands, Fleet Warden. I wished to report on what I have witnessed during the battle of Khalgron."

Dhormun paused for a moment, a hint of apprehension in his eyes warring with the look of awe on his face. "The arms and armour that the Lion and his lionesses are equipped with are truly formidable, as are their vessels, which possess astonishing levels of firepower. Not only that, but the things they are personally capable of... It was like witnessing the power of the Great Maker first hand! John Blake alone possesses the strength of fifty Trankarans and is capable of moving faster than the eye can follow. I saw him face extremely powerful Kirrix monstrosities in melee combat and literally rip them apart. I do not believe that any can face him in personal combat."

"Please do not misunderstand the nature of this message; John Blake has proven himself a loyal friend and steadfast ally. If not for him and the women he commands, there is not a shred of doubt in my mind that all our rock-brethren on Khalgron would have been lost to the Kirrix."

The Sub-Warden leaned forward and said earnestly, "But I beseech you... Do whatever you can to retain him as an ally. He does not strike me as the kind of man that would abuse our trust in an alliance, but make no mistake, if we should ever make the calamitous mistake of turning on him..." Dhormun's face turned grim. "I beg you to ensure such a disaster never befalls the Republic."

Straightening then, Dhormun concluded by saying, "I will train and prepare the civilian militia here. Morale is high after our deliverance from the hands of the Kirrix and should they return, they will face fierce opposition. Good fortune to you, Fleet Warden."

With that, the message ended and Thandrun steepled his fingers, considering the Sub-Warden's words. Dhormun's thoughts largely echoed his own and he found himself thanking the Great Maker that John Blake had proven so benevolent towards the Republic. Such thoughts put him in a curiously reflective mood, as he considered his recent insights into the ancient spiritual beliefs of his people.

There was a chime from the door and the Fleet Warden looked up, pressing a button on his desk to admit his visitor. Forgemaster Gilgrem stomped into the Command Chamber, a black case held in his weighty paw.

"Ah! Good to see you, Forgemaster," Thandrun greeted him warmly, rising from his desk. "Any luck?"

"I did what I could in the ridiculous timeframe you gave me," Gilgrem muttered with a dour frown. "I would've been able to do a much better job if you'd given me a couple of days instead of a couple of hours."

Thandrun gave him a respectful bow. "Please accept my humble apologies, Forgemaster."

Gilgrem snorted and handed over the case. "Go on then, take a look."

The Fleet Warden eagerly accepted the small black box. He pressed his broad thumb to the rune in its centre and the lid flipped up, a kaleidoscope of light shining across his face. Thandrun carefully examined the objects within for a moment, awed by his fellow Trankaran's skill. "You've excelled yourself, Forgemaster. These are absolutely perfect."

"Hardly," Gilgrem harrumphed, but when Thandrun glanced up at the Forgemaster's face, he could see the hint of pride in his amber eyes.

There was a chime from his desk and Thandrun closed the case, then gave the Forgemaster a sincere look of apology.

"Fine, I've got plenty to do anyway," Gilgrem grumped, turning and stomping out through the door.

The Fleet Warden walked back to his desk and activated the rune to accept the call.

Senator Vamred's worried face appeared as Thandrun sat in his chair.

"Thandrun, any news of the Chancellor yet?" the Senator of Internal Affairs asked, his expression pensive. "There's been repeated calls to begin the process to elect a replacement Chancellor. With the momentum gathering behind those motions, soon it won't matter if Niskera still lives!"

"I believe it will not be long, Senator," Thandrun replied, feeling a huge amount of sympathy for his colleague. To be stuck on Trankara and forced to deal with the endless bureaucracy of the Senate seemed like a fate worse than death to the Fleet Warden. "I promise that I will send word the moment Niskera returns."

"The primary candidates are Senator Barumdrolin and Senator Dhunarlum..." Vamred said ominously. "I don't need to remind you what a disaster it would be if either of those pebble-pushers were elected as Chancellor!"

Thandrun's expression turned bleak. Both senators were renowned for their ability to drag any meeting into an endless mire of tedium. Any chance of decisive action from the Senate would evaporate as quickly as the Republic's chances of surviving the Kirrix invasion.

There was a flash on his comm-interface and Thandrun's frown lifted into a smile when he saw who was contacting him. "I must go, Vamred. With a stroke of good fortune, I might have news from the Chancellor this very moment!"

"Great Maker willing..." Senator Vamred murmured, the worry not leaving his eyes.

The Fleet Warden ended the call to the Senator and pressed his finger against the rune to open the next comm channel.

John Blake appeared as a holographic image above Thandrun's desk, a friendly smile on his face. "Hello, Thandrun. I just wanted to let you know that Niskera has awoken and is eager to speak with you. We'll escort her over to the Anvil."

"That's excellent news, thank you. I'll be there to greet you personally," the stocky Trankaran replied. He lifted the black case from his desk so that it could seen via the holocams. "I have the items you requested. I'll bring them with me."

John's smile broadened into a grin. "I can't wait to see. Thank you, Thandrun!"

"It was a pleasure, my friend," the Fleet Warden replied. "I'll see you shortly."

They ended the call and Thandrun rose from his chair, tucking the black case under his arm. He walked out of the Command Chamber, then crossed the Bridge, waving away several Sub-Wardens who approached him to deliver reports. Stabbing an armoured thumb on the rune to operate the elevator, he tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for it to arrive.

The call with Senator Vamred had been very alarming. John had mentioned that he and Niskera had come up with a plan to encourage the Senate to take appropriate action against the Kirrix threat, but Thandrun couldn't begin to imagine what it might be. Even though Niskera was safe and well, the Senate was so hopelessly fragmented, attempting to gather a consensus seemed to him to be an impossible task. He stepped into the elevator when the door opened, then hit the button for the loading bay.

Alone in the lift as it descended, his shoulders slumped and he let out a heavy sigh. The sooner the Chancellor was back, the better. He'd done his best to hold everything together in her absence, but he was a warrior, not a politician and had no time for their ridiculous games. That was one of the things he liked about John Blake. Thandrun sensed a kindred spirit there and greatly appreciated his forthright and honest dealings with the Terran. He faltered for a moment, suddenly remembering that the man was not a Terran and was about as elevated from that species as it was possible to be.

The elevator chimed and Thandrun stepped out into the corridor, following the bustling passageway to the loading area. The Anvil was packed with the huge number of evacuees from Khalgron and while he was delighted to see so many women and children safely on board, until he had a chance to disperse those civilians throughout the fleet, his battlecarrier would be teeming with people. Many of the rock-brethren caught his eye and nodded to him respectfully, but he could hear the rumbling sounds of familiar names echoing down the corridors. As he strode through the crowds, it seemed that the names of the Lion and his lionesses were on everybody's lips.

He finally saw the man waiting patiently in the loading area, Legionnaires and civilians alike loitering nearby and watching him in fascination. Thandrun strode towards John and couldn't help feeling a surge of relief when he glanced his way, giving him a warm smile.

"Niskera will be along any minute," John said, glancing back towards the Invictus' Cargo Bay. "She was just getting ready with Alyssa."

"It is fortunate we are not attending an official function," Thandrun said dryly. "Minutes would quickly turn into hours."

John looked at him in surprise for a moment then grinned. "Ah, so it's not just Terran girls then."

Thandrun saw John's eyes drop to the black case under his arm, so he retrieved it and handed it over. "Please let me know if they do not match your specifications." John looked at the case in confusion for a moment, so Thandrun pointed to the rune set into the centre. "Just place your hand on that rune to open it."

John did as instructed, lifting the lid, a bright prism of light shining across his face. His eyes widened as he looked at the contents, then he looked at Thandrun with sincere gratitude. "They're exquisite... Exactly what I had in mind, thank you."

The Fleet Warden bowed to him. "Forgemaster Gilgrem's finest work. I'm overjoyed that they meet your specifications."

John grinned at him as they shook hands, then he darted a glance over his shoulder. "Here she comes..."

Thandrun turned to look across the docking umbilical into the Cargo Bay opposite. Several Trankaran loaders were in that huge room and they stared in shock to their right, falling to their knees with looks of wonder on their faces. He frowned, thinking their reaction a bit extreme. Chancellor Niskera was certainly well-liked and very popular amongst the citizens, but-

"By the Great Maker!" he blurted out, eyes widening in stunned disbelief as Niskera stepped into view.

He had never seen anyone so breathtakingly beautiful before! It was like Niskera had been blessed by the Great Maker himself. The swirling lines over her body seemed to pulse in time to his pounding heartbeat and her eyes were lit by a glorious inner light that he wanted to gaze into forever, losing himself in their transcendent glow.

Niskera glided towards him, a beatific smile on her face that lifted his heart with joy. "Not by the Great Maker, he left us long ago," she said gently, her fluid voice sending shivers up his spine. "By the Great Protector!"

Thandrun crashed to his knees, head bowed in reverence. "I pledge to serve you with my life, Niskera, my Queen. I will do anything you ask, anything!"

Niskera gave him a warm, gracious smile and offered her glowing hand to help him up. "Rise, Thandrun, my loyal friend. We have a great deal of work to do if we are to save our people..."

***

Sergeant David Gibbons walked down the open street between the rows of buildings, his eight-foot-tall power armoured suit lengthening his strides with each heavy footfall. Pivoting at the waist, he trained the 20mm autocannon on the big deserted factory up ahead, feeling suspicious despite the lack of heat signatures on his thermal-imaging HUD.

He crossed an intersection, looking both ways down the deserted street, the movement of the rolling tumbleweeds catching his eye before he quickly dismissed them. Darting out, he sprinted across the road, unable to help grinning as he charged across in bounding leaps.

The grin was wiped from his face a second later as the building ahead of him seemed to burst into life with a storm of green plasma bolts. He flinched instinctively, memories of his squadmates being burned alive on Port Megara flashing through his mind, their terrified screams ringing in his ears. Reminding himself he was far from the Dragon March now, he put his head down and charged headlong at the Kintark stronghold, the road behind him burning with the eerie fel-green flames of plasma fire.

Gibbons crashed through the wall, bricks and mortar spraying out in a huge arc as he barrelled into the Kintark soldier hiding behind it. He lashed out with a power-assisted gauntlet, grabbing the Lizardman soldier and hauling it off its feet. The 10mm minigun strapped under his left arm screamed as he unloaded, cutting the Kintark in half with a hail of bullets.

There were more Kintark on this level and they whirled around, tracking him with their vicious plasma weapons. He kept moving, running across the building and weaving between the big supporting pillars as superheated plasma sailed around him. One of the shots hit his leg and his armour status display flashed red, warning him of the damage. He recoiled in fear and stumbled to one side, expecting the searing pain of a plasma burn any second. Not paying attention to where he was going, he crashed through a buttress with the shriek of tortured metal.

Dust and mortar showered down from the ceiling, an ominous creak making him want to freeze in case further movement brought the ceiling down. A grin slowly spread across his face as a plan came to mind and he staggered towards the left wall of the building, whirling around and holding his autocannon at the ready. More plasma bolts came flying towards him, but he used the buttresses as cover as he backed away. Clamping down on the trigger, the autocannon spat out a stream of shells, the heavy bore slugs pounding into one buttress after the next, sending lethal slivers of metal flying outwards with each explosive impact.

The groans from the ceiling became a deafening roar and Dave smashed through the wall into the sidestreet just as he brought the factory ceiling down. He toppled over onto his back, a hail of bricks bouncing off his armoured frame as an ungodly amount of dust reduced visibility to almost nothing.

Deep laughter reached his ears over the comm a second later and he felt the vibrations from the floor in his back, from the heavy footfalls of an approaching power armoured suit.

"That was outstanding, Dave!" Staff Sergeant Brannigan chuckled, looming out of the haze of smoke. Offering a power-armoured gauntlet, he continued, "Are you sure you weren't yanking my chain? You've used power armour before, right?"

"Only my fourth training session," Gibbons replied, accepting the hand and hauling himself upright. "I see what you mean about this Sentinel armour though. You feel invincible wearing this stuff!"

"Ain't that the truth," Brannigan agreed, clapping him on the shoulder with a loud metallic clang. He chuckled again and said, "No one's cleared the Lizards that fast before, not even Commander Wessex! She's gonna be pissed you broke her record."

David looked out over the shattered remains of the building he'd just brought down, dozens of broken robotic bodies lying half-buried amongst the rubble. "Doesn't it get expensive trashing this much training equipment?"

"We're the best of the best. No expense spared for the Sentinel Battalion," Brannigan replied, the pride clear in his voice. He turned around and picked up the mangled remains of a robotic soldier, the rubber Kintark mask it wore torn in half by the collapsing building. "I guess they'll switch these out for Kirrix pretty soon."

"Yeah, I've heard the bugs are stirring up trouble on the border," Dave replied. "You reckon we might get deployed out there?"

"Seems more likely," Brannigan agreed, sounding disappointed as he dropped the metallic corpse. "I was hoping to get some payback on the Lizards."

"Yeah, me too," Dave replied, though he was quite certain he never wanted to be looking down the wrong end of a plasma rifle again. He gestured to the broken robots with the muzzle of his autocannon. "How come I didn't pick them up on thermal?"

"Lizards have got themselves some kind of heat-reactive suit," Brannigan muttered, taking a long kick at a robotic Kintark head and sending it sailing through the air. "They can heat themselves up to run faster, or cool themselves down and go invisible on thermal."

Gibbons watched the head bounce off a building over a hundred metres away. "Good to know, thanks."

"That's enough training for today," Brannigan said, turning around and jerking an armoured thumb back to base. "Let's go get a drink!"

"Sounds good to me," Dave replied, then joined the Staff Sergeant as they walked back the way they'd arrived.

The pyro-gel still burned in the street, the simulated plasma fires uncannily realistic. Gibbons quickly looked away, trying not to think about the smell of burning flesh, or the tortured cries of dying friends.

***

John hit the button to close the Cargo Bay door, then returned Chancellor Niskera's wave goodbye. She was watching them depart from the Anvil's loading area, Thandrun hovering protectively at her side. Scores of Trankarans had gathered in the Anvil's loading bay and were standing quietly, all of them gaping at the new Glowing Queen in awe.

When the door closed, blocking off the view, Alyssa looked at him in delight. "Did you see the way they reacted to her? It was even more dramatic than the Maliri!"

John nodded and offered her a hand as he turned to walk for the grav-tube. "I wonder if Mael'nerak always intended to have some kind of Glowing Queen in place to influence the Trankarans?"

"I'm sure you're right, Great Protector," Alyssa said with dutiful reverence.

John glanced her way and saw her eyes flashing with amusement. He raised an eyebrow and asked, "Who came up with that idea, anyway? You or Niskera?"

"It was a joint effort," the blonde replied blithely. She gave him a mischievous grin. "How's it feel to be the new spiritual icon of an entire species?"