Thrax

“Sir Thrax,” the Mentor said, “we are in a state of planetary emergency.  You are to resume duty at once.”

“Yes, Mentor,” replied Thrax.  “What’s happening?”

“Lacerta is under attack,” the Mentor announced grimly.  “Alien craft of unrecognized configuration have entered the system and are nearing orbit.  They are penetrating our defense perimeter.  All Knights and Corps members are on highest alert.  Stand by for visual.”

The hologram dissolved, refocused, and expanded into a satellite transmission.  Thrax watched grimly, and Agena watched nervously, as the image panned from a hemisphere of Lacerta out into space.  Ships moved against the face of the planet and out past its orbit to meet larger shapes.  Shocking flashes of light appeared all around.  The larger shapes were ruddy-looking objects with a look of age about them.  The flashes of light in the dark expanse between the opposing craft were like little exploding stars.  Agena blinked, realizing what she was seeing.

“Those ships, the ones coming out from the planet…  I know those; they’re Lacertan ships,” Agena said.

“They are,” said Thrax.  “The others, though…the Mentor is correct.  They’re alien.  Totally alien.”  He paused, staring at the hologram as if to burn a hole through it.  “And hostile.”

Agena said nothing more.  The only words she could summon for the tableau in the air in front of them were obvious: They’re fighting.  Fighting out there.  She knew that interplanetary disputes did happen and that they did turn violent.  The Knights of Lacerta had been involved in their share of battles and uprisings and had fought to keep the peace on planets and in space.

 But no such conflict had come to human space for years.  She had never known of such conflicts as anything but outbreaks of hostility between alien worlds.  She gulped, suppressing her reaction to the fearful implications of the hologram—and what it might mean for Thrax and for her.

There were at least eight of the incoming ships heading for Lacerta and a swarm of ships from the planet shooting out to meet them.  The flashes of light went on like lightning in a summer storm, exchanges of fire between the defenders of the dragon colony and the unknowns that continued undeterred along their path.  Bursts of light appeared around the alien ships, and a few appeared searingly on their surfaces. 

Amid the flashes in space, there were terrible eruptions of red and yellow sparks, and wherever one of these appeared, one of the Lacertan ships suddenly vanished.  Agena let out a half-audible gasp when she saw these latter flashes.  She looked at Thrax and saw his teeth clenching.  He breathed more heavily each time one of these eruptions occurred, and Agena felt a stab of pain for him each time it happened: for each one surely meant the destruction of a Lacertan ship—and the deaths of his comrades aboard it.

The display of the battle in space contracted and shifted back to the image of the Mentor.  “Sir Thrax,” he said, “you and all other Knights and Corps members in residence at all of the Chateaux are ordered to evacuate the civilians present; they are now under your protective authority.  The remaining Knights on planet and the Corps are being assigned to defend the cities, settlements, and vital facilities.

 Once the Chateaux are evacuated, all Knights on planet will join the general civil defense and engage with any alien troops or craft that succeed in reaching the planet’s surface.  Reinforcements are now heading in from other systems to aid in the defense.  You, Sir Thrax, are the highest-ranking Knight at your Chateau and will lead the evacuation effort there.  Once the evacuation is complete, you will contact me for further orders.”

“I understand, Mentor,” Thrax answered.  “But Sir…have the aliens given any identification of themselves or stated their origins?”

“They have not, Sir Thrax.  They have ignored all hails and all attempts at communication.  The engagement in space began with warning fire from our craft, which they answered by firing upon our vessels.  At that point, the battle began.  They may state their origin and purpose once they have entered orbit, but we are not waiting that long.

 We can only assume they have come for planetary resources.  Water, land, food, vegetation, minerals, and population are all at risk.  Until we know more about them, we will defend by any and all means available, and reinforcements will add their strength to our own.  You have your orders, Sir Thrax.  The other Knights at your location will be awaiting you.”

“Understood, Mentor,” said Thrax. 

“Dragon’s fortune to us all,” said the Mentor.

“Dragon’s fortune,” repeated Thrax, and the hologram disappeared.

Instantly, Thrax turned to his gear on the wall.  He reattached his badge to his armor skin and took down the shiny garment.  Agena watched him silently and apprehensively until he looked over at her and said curtly, “Dress yourself.  Now.  Others will be gathering; we’ll join them, and you will do as we instruct you.”

His demeanor was totally changed from the way he had been since he had stepped out onto the balcony that morning, so many days ago, and had offered himself to her.  This was a Thrax Helmer that she had never seen, not even on that day when they were first paired in the Lottery. 

His courtly manner was gone, and his passions were changed.  This was not Thrax the suitor, nor was it Thrax the lover.  This unsmiling, imposing figure was Thrax the warrior Knight, a leader of dragons and a creature of battle.  It chilled Agena to the bone to see the man who had delivered her into uncanny ecstasy disappear into the man now armoring up in front of her.

“Go,” he repeated.  “Dress yourself; we’re leaving.”

Without a word, holding the towel tight around herself and feeling more vulnerable than she had ever felt in her life, Agena moved to leave.  She paused for just a second at the threshold and watched him take the hilt of his powerblade from the wall.  He pressed its activator, and the lance of energy leapt forth from it, gleaming with power..  He glanced from the glowing weapon over to her, and for a moment, his expression softened as if to tell her that he regretted this moment and would give anything to return to the way they had been.