ForevaXena's FanFic . . .
Until It Ends There
Is No End
by Phantom Bard (a.k.a. J. Nakamura)
Phantom Bard, Brooklyn, N.Y., May 2001
Disclaimer: This is an uber tale, based on the TV series, Xena: Warrior Princess, and its characters and concepts, which are the creation and property of MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures. No malice is intended towards the characters or concepts of this excellent production. I would like to express my thanks to their creators for sharing them with us. As always, this work of fan fiction is offered for non-profit entertainment only. It may not be sold, may be downloaded for personal use only, and must contain this statement.
This story is a sequel to my earlier story "CYCLES", and relates to characters and events in it, as well as to characters and events in the TV series, Xena: Warrior Princess.
This story contains violence, personal trauma, questionable language, and relationships based on the subtext present in the TV series. There is no intent to offend; however if you find any of these topics uncomfortable, illegal, or undesirable, please read something else. There's plenty.
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CANON AND SYNOPSIS
For those who have not read the earlier tale "Cycles", let me clarify some background. Xena, the Warrior Princess of Amphipolis was the daughter of the innkeeper Cyrene, and throughout her childhood and youth believed herself to have been fathered by the warrior Atrius. Her quick mind and prowess in battle became twisted by the cruelty of her fate, until she became a ruthless and ambitious warlord. Yet through the intervention of the demigod Hercules, and the mounting guilt inside her, she resolved to leave the destructive life she had lived. Her resolve was supported by the love of her soul mate, Gabrielle, the Bard of Potidaea, later the Amazon Queen. There came a time in which Xena was trapped in the body of her archenemy Callisto of Cirra, and during that time she briefly held the Sword of Ares, the God of War. It had lasting consequences, for as was later explained, Xena held a special heritage. She had never been the daughter of the cuckold, Atrius. She was, in fact, the daughter of Ares himself. Contact with Ares' sword activated a latent divinity, and she became the Goddess of War and Strategy. For two thousand years she managed to conceal this fact, a task made easier when Ares became mortal and died.
Eventually, sensing the threat of an unknown enemy, and frustrated by the progress of mankind, she created a defense force. In 2006, there came two invasions, and with a resurrected Ares, she defeated challenges from the last of the Gods, and the aliens under their dominion. Eventually she was reunited with Gabrielle and became mortal again. Then followed generations of reincarnations, and the growth and partial destruction of mankind's empires in space. Finally, the 64th reincarnations of Xena and Gabrielle returned to Earth in the year 8,722. Eventually, they died. It is now Anno Domini 9,392.
UNTIL IT ENDS THERE IS NO END
Begun 4/20/2001 Completed 5/13/2001
Revised 5/16/2001 First Posted
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1: THE FALL OF STRYMA VALE
In which Dena of Amphilios and her mother flee their home before invaders.
CHAPTER 2: THE ROAD TO THERMA
In which Dena acquires a horse.
CHAPTER 3: WHAT DREAMS ARE FOR
In which Dena meets Priestesses and the Goddesses
CHAPTER 4: WINNING THE ROAD TO CORINTHIA
In which Dena acquires a sidekick and follows a dream.
CHAPTER 5: OF UNDERGROUND SPARATA
In which Dena learns nerve attacks and names her horse.
CHAPTER 6: ONCE IN A LIFETIME
In which Dena celebrates her 18th birthday, and overhears a plot.
CHAPTER 7: THE TEMPLES OF ATHENAE
In which Dena saves the King, a Priestess, and assorted innocents.
CHAPTER 8: MOHEGALA THE RED KHAN
In which Dena meets unexpected allies.
CHAPTER 9: THE WRATH OF THE PRIESTESS
In which Dena loses a friend.
CHAPTER 10: I WILL BRING YOU COMFORT
In which Dena finds a soul mate.
CHAPTER 11: ALL THESE WORLDS ARE MINE
In which Dena confronts Ares in battle.
CHAPTER 12: THE MOMENT OF TRUTH
In which the Destroyer of Galaxies is born.
CHAPTER 13: 135 B.C.
In which a new cycle has begun.
☼
◄PART 3: DESTROYER OF GALAXYS►
CHAPTER 11: ALL THESE WORLDS ARE MINE
In the wars of men against men there stood the mirror of the cosmos, and it reflected the forces of the universe at a level comprehensible to mankind. For fifteen billion years the experiment had played out, and it had been good. At each order of magnitude the same forces worked the same magic, and the balance of forces was not stasis, but rather the long-term average of its extremes. "As above so below"; the saying described the phenomenon perfectly. It was simply conservation of energy, the application of a single pattern to govern forces at every level of creation.
Only recently had the humans and their Gods comprehended the small cycle, and what it implied. Many such cycles had passed since the great cooling, mostly in the last seven billion years. Across the vastness of mankind's galaxy, nearly 60,000 light years, empires had risen and fallen, each having associated cycles, sometimes interacting in spasms of destruction, sometimes burning out in isolation. Among all the billions of billions of planets only a small percentage were Cardinal worlds, and on each of these, a Great Power ruled in supervision of the experiment. In a galaxy such as the Milky Way, several dozen Great Powers watched over several dozen Cardinal worlds, observing the achievements of that world's progeny. Every so often, and the number of these occurrences could be counted in the tens of thousands despite the vastness of time, some race would ascend to the mastery of travel between galaxies, and this was always closely observed. By such attainment, a race moved an order of magnitude closer to the nature of a Great Power, and the result of such evolution was a fledgling. Very rarely, and the number could be counted in the dozens, did a race ascend to a level whereby it was welcomed to the ranks of the Great Powers themselves. Most such chances were squandered in grasping for power, a sign that the Balance of Dark and Light had not been attained, and technology had outstripped spiritual development. Of course there were other pitfalls, but none so common as unmanaged aggression.
And now a race had attained the means to conquer the problems of time and space, and moved towards another galaxy. Across nearly 2.2 million light years they came from the galaxy of Triangulum, (M33). Already they had visited Andromeda, (M31), 0.25 million light years from their home, and they had wrought great destruction, and held all Andromeda's worlds in thrall. They had long ago accepted a merged consciousness, and they had forgone presenting a constant physical presence. The Great Powers watched with interest as they moved towards the Milky Way, and at random chose a world as their destination. They were 40,000 light years away, closing rapidly on the Orion Arm.
Cycles could exist over time, or at different levels of magnitude, and only very rarely were they broken. Never with a transition to chaos, only by transmutation into a different cycle. And so the Great Powers watched.
☼
Long before, the "Ancient One" had taught the Amazons a benefit of the closeness of their sisterhood, and they had utilized that benefit many times in the growth of their nation. So on the day the Goddesses were reborn, there were gatherings of warriors throughout the Amazon Nation, for their shamanesses were preparing a ritual at the direction of their Seer, and by order of the High Queen. The inspiration had come to the Seer the night before in a dream, and she had spent the candle marks since then studying the chants and preparing the blood. In the gathering of the Southern Army, and the cities to the north, east, and west, the Seer had instructed the shamanesses in the performance of the ritual of shared consciousness.
Their strategy was sound, for there had been no Amazon Nation at the time the God of War had last stood on Earth, just women who shared a heritage passed from mother to daughter, and a secret allegiance. It had only been when civilization had imploded in the Years without Gods that the nation had risen to visibility, and started its rise as a political power. Thus, the existence of their nation would be a surprise to the God of War, and the Goddesses would not stand against him alone. When he attacked he would find himself fighting as well, the combined power of the spirits and minds and hearts of 2,570,000 Amazon warriors, directed through the spirit realm, to be focused by their shamanesses, and wielded by the High Queen.
☼
In the Temple of the Goddess of War on Olympia, Dena led Varielle through the cella to the pronaos where the statue of Dale stood. The alarm was deafening, but when she thought to demand that it cease, it did. Dena barely noticed. As in her dream she fitted the chakram into the cutout in the wall panel, and then grasping the s-curve, turned the chakram sharply to the right. The panel in the base of the statue popped out, and she grasped the edge and dragged it open wide. She didn't know if she had to leave the chakram or could take it, then she heard Dale whisper to her, "Yes, by all means take it, you don't want to leave that lying around for just anyone to come along and find. Besides, later you'll need it." So she grasped the chakram, and lifted it from the cutout in the wall.
The stairs led down under the statue's base, just as in her dream, and she led Varielle by the hand in haste, down the stairs and through the short tunnel. At the iris port she placed her palm against the sensor screen as she had seen Dale do, and the port sprang open. Varielle jumped, and Dena gave her a pat on the butt to move her into the ship, remembering Val prodding her in the same way. She grinned when she saw Varielle blush. The port snapped shut behind them, sealing out the world they had known.
Over unseen speakers Dale's voice greeted them. "Welcome aboard the Ides of March. Please proceed to the control room."
Dena led the way at a fast walk, forward through a passage, through the blast doors, and there it was, just as she had seen it in her dream. On the console next to a padded chair were two buttons, one red and one black. When she sat down the chair took the shape of her body, and she gestured Varielle to the chair next to hers. There were soft sounds now, and vibrations in the walls, and a low hum. She never wondered how the ship would get out from under the temple. Those thousands of tons of marble and limestone, which had concealed it through all the centuries, were simply not her problem. She glanced over at her soul mate, and received a grin.
"Let's do it," Varielle said, "wouldn't want to keep Ares waiting after all these years."
"Ok, here goes," Dena said as she pushed the red button, "Get up, Ides of March, Yaah."
"I don't think she meant you have to literally talk to it like a horse," Varielle said.
"Well, you can never be too sure," Dena replied, "she said it's pretty smart, and Argo's pretty smart, so I just thought..."
Above them the simulacrum of the temple shimmered as the machines under Val's temple closed its program. The temple vanished. After 692 years the hull of the red ship lay revealed under the sun. And the Ides of March lifted from Olympia, and instead of a smooth double convex shape, the hull was partially curled around a flattened black tube that ran fore to aft. The tube tapered slightly, and it was sealed and smoothly rounded aft, and it showed a gaping maw in front. Within the opening of the tube was a nebulous brightness that no eye could bear, for within the tube was a power unknown since the time of the creation.
The Ides of March tilted nose up into the sky, and as it accelerated into the heavens the air shook with sonic booms, and friction caused the hull to incandesce, then the shields initiated and the Ides of March vanished. Dena and Varielle sat in their chairs, staring in wonder as New Hellas was revealed below, and its form amazed them. Then their expanding field of vision encompassed the Amazon Nation, and soon half the Earth lay below, and the curve of the horizon could be discerned. And the Ides of March reached full attack speed, 120,000 miles an hour, and Dena commanded it to "close with target", and it did, rolling to show them the black of space.
Ares saw a speck appear above his old home at Mt. Olympus, a single speck that accelerated towards him from the planet, now glowing from the atmospheric friction before it vanished in its shields. His challenge had been read and accepted, and he prepared himself for battle, closing his own shields, and accelerating to attack speed. His squadron moved from the Lagrange Point, spreading out into a crescent that would close its flanks around the Ares when it approached, keeping watch for the squadron of the deserters' ships. And when they revealed themselves his warriors would engage and destroy them, for a Colonial Warship of that variant would be no match for the ships he had built.
In the lands of the United Amazon Nation over 2 1/2 million warriors lay in the trance of joined consciousness, and their High Queen viewed near space, and watched the movements of their enemy. Then she felt another presence, and Dale, the Goddess of War, appeared to her, and asked her to use weapons she had prepared long ago, and Cyane XXIII accepted, joining her nation to Dale's strategy. Then from below the surface of the gas giant, Jupiter, called from their sleepless wait of centuries, 27 warships accelerated toward Earth, and Cyane reveled in their command. For the last time they advanced to battle, the Thermopylae, Olympus, Pride of Athens, Valkyrie, Marathon, Sword of Amphipolis, Archangel, Marathon, and all the others. From her vantage point in space she stood off from them, willing their movements, yet not endangering her sisters with direct contact, lest the ships be destroyed. They reached the threshold speed, protected in their shields, and they executed a micro-jump.
Soon the squadron of 27 would engage the squadron of 64, and these numbers were not random, and there was great fortune in them. Earth was the third planet, and the cube of its number was 27, and this was the number of its defenders. Mars was the fourth planet, given to the God of War, and the cube of its number was 64, and this was the number of the attackers. And 64 was also the number of the reincarnations of the Warrior Princess and the Amazon Queen, and this was destiny, for it was the number of their enemies.
Ares, the God of War, felt confident in the Spirit of Battle, as the warship Ares closed with him, and he scanned his enemy with sensors, and the results gave him pause.
"Incoming ship: Configuration unknown. Active shields: Level Undetermined. Weapons detected: Classes Undetermined. Analysis: Incomplete Information. Presence of anomalous materials detected. Course and speed: Converging at 120,000mph.
He chose to probe his enemy in another way, and he hailed the incoming ship.
"Warship Ares, this is the Warship Spirit of Battle, acknowledge."
"Spirit of Battle, Ares is dead. This is the Ides of March."
It was the voice of a demon, and no Colonial Defense Forces ship had ever sounded like that. And the choice of wording...Gods what a sick sense of humor. So Dale had renamed her ship Ides of March.
"Surrender or be destroyed, you are outnumbered and surrounded." He broadcast to her.
"You have no idea." Came the return message, and then the channel was cut.
He shifted course by 4 degrees, and his sensors reported the Ides of March matching his heading, altering its trajectory to continue converging with his ship. With his shields this wouldn't have been possible for the Ares he had known. Dale had modified the warship, but how could she have modified it to such an extent that his sensors could tell him almost nothing about it? The planet below was primitive. People still sat around campfires. No electricity, no real industry, no radio, no TV, no aircraft, hell, they didn't even have guns as far as he could sense. What in Tartarus had the mad bitch done? What had he gotten himself into? And then his ship was rocked by an attack from some kind of laser, and though his shields held there was a power drop.
"Evasive maneuvers, charge the x-ray laser, fire control, target-lock incoming hostile."
The Spirit of Battle possessed him and he stopped wondering what to do and did what he knew. His ship rolled and spiraled, and as the Ides of March turned to follow, the fire control auto-dropped his shields, and his ship fired. His sensors reported a direct hit but no degradation of the enemy's defenses. Not surprising. Such an attack wouldn't have caused damage even if it were still the Ares he had known. The Spirit of Battle turned to fire again, but the fire control locked the shields, and again he was hit, not once, but by a series of twelve pulses, each a quarter second apart. If he hadn't altered the fire control from the Colonial Defense Forces model, that tactic would have tricked his ship into auto-dropping the shields to fire, and he would have been struck eleven times. Ares gulped. But for a small adjustment he had made, his ship would have been destroyed. Damn that bitch Dale. She'd had all those years to fiddle with that ship, and she was out to kill him, no doubt about it. Again the Spirit of Battle fired. The laser struck the Ides of March, and again no damage. And then his sensors sounded an alarm.
"Alert, Incoming ships. 27 warships have terminated jumps at the trailing Lagrange Point. Configuration: Colonial Defense Forces variant 143. Active shields detected at level 5. Weapons detected in classes 11 and 12b. Course and speed: converging with New Kingdom squadron at 100,000 mph."
It was the deserters, coming to be slaughtered. All his ships had received the alarm.
"Engage hostiles and destroy at will." Ares ordered his squadron.
Again the Spirit of Battle was struck by lasers from the Ides of March, but the pulses were of longer duration and further apart as she probed the programming of his shields. He knew what she was trying to do, and what angered him so much was that her strategy would eventually work. Sooner or later she would find the interval that would be read as a gap in her attack, and his auto-fire control settings would betray him to ruin. With a snarl of anger Ares made the only sure response he could.
"Auto-fire control, off line," he commanded the Spirit of Battle, "engage manual fire control."
☼
The New Kingdom squadron moved to engage the 27 warships of the deserters, and they outnumbered them almost 2 1/2 to 1. They accelerated to attack speed, and as the deserters moved from the trailing Lagrange Point, they altered their formation to outflank them. The deserters were holding formation in a wedge shape, and the New Kingdom squadron discerned their strategy. They would attempt to punch through their line, firing on their closest opponents as they passed. They prepared to open their line in a maneuver that would encircle the tight deserter formation as it approached.
Cyane XXIII recognized their plan, and saw they had taken her bait, and fallen into her trap. Though these warships were like nothing she'd ever seen, battle was still battle, and whether in warships in space, or on horses on the steppes, tactics were more alike than not. She closed with her enemy, thinking let's see who flinches first. She held her ships in formation until the last moment, her intuition informing her of the capabilities of the warships. Then, less than a second from the point of no return, her squadron scattered, the ships radiating out in all directions, forming a sphere of moving targets around the New Kingdom warships, and raining them with bolts from their x-ray lasers.
Quickly the New Kingdom pilots moved to capitalize on their numerical advantage, and splitting into groups of two or three, they singled out deserter ships and engaged them in dogfights. And each New Kingdom warship was invaded by the spirit of a warrior; a presence, undetectable and wholly unsuspected, which worked to subtly degrade their responses. The New Kingdom pilots became consumed with the intent of destroying their enemies, to the exclusion of all else, and so they paid no attention to the fact that the field of battle was drawing away from Earth. Every so often, a New Kingdom or a deserter ship would succeed in concentrating its fire on an enemy long enough to deplete its shields, and when this happened, the doomed ship would incandesce momentarily, and then flare up as it was destroyed. Because of their superiority in numbers, and shields, and weapons, it was more often deserter ships that illuminated the void in their destruction. Yet Cyane had no fear, for already the battle had moved well beyond the orbit of Earth's moon, and her strategy required but three ships to survive.
Eventually the battle stood with 12 deserter warships facing 51 from the New Kingdom, and the New Kingdom pilots focused on the destruction of their enemies like a wolf pack running down a tiring deer. Now Cyane's unseen allies completed the undermining of their enemies, and the New Kingdom pilots would follow blindly wherever Cyane led them. Therefore, Cyane commanded her squadron to flee, and they regrouped and accelerated to attack speed, and drew off the New Kingdom warships in pursuit towards empty space. As they passed the orbit of Mars, they linked weapons controls, and tightened their formation, spiraling through space, and the new Kingdom ships closed around them, raining them with laser fire. Finally they reached the distance Dale had recommended, and within one of the deserter ships a sequence of commands was initiated, and a weapon was activated, and the strategy culminated.
When it came, the blast was of unimaginable magnitude, and its concussion brought landslides and tremors which were felt even in New Hellas, and the flight of the deserters, and the pursuit of the New Kingdom warships ended in a blinding flash. For in each of the 12 remaining deserter ships, even after Dale's modifications, there remained a M/AM torpedo. All twelve of these class 12b projectiles detonated, one on command, eleven by proximity, and they were augmented by the weapons carried by the attackers, yielding the greatest blast the galaxy had seen since the destruction of Terminus Prime. So ended the product of Ares' long labor in the New Kingdom, and the last warships of the Colonial Defense Forces. Yet it could be felt poetic, that after so very, very long, the Earth was again defended from invaders by twelve ships.
☼
Aboard the Ides of March, Dena was consumed by the demands of control. She had found the warship Dale had created more responsive than Argo ever was, and they were now of one mind. Less like commanding soldiers, it was more like the command of her own body, and she sank deep into the union. The Ides of March twisted and rolled, bringing its weapons again and again to bear on the Spirit of Battle, and the Spirit of Battle did the same. They traded laser fire, each scoring direct hits, and their shields held. The firing tactics she had used had come as an inspiration from the ship itself, for it taught as well as obeyed, and Dena accepted its suggestions as a young officer might the advice of a veteran sergeant.
Yet as the battle progressed, Dena became aware that Ares held a slight advantage in speed and maneuverability, and his laser had more power. Dale had made extensive modifications, giving the Ides of March near parity which the Ares never had. But she had been constrained to the available raw materials, and though no one else could have done as well, still she could not overcome the resources of the New Kingdom. She had directed her work to capitalize on certain weaknesses of the Colonial Defense Forces design, and of course her new weapon. Her first tactic was to force Ares to abandon the advantages his auto-fire control conferred, relegating himself to the slower manual control. As the battle raged this factor proved its value, and the fight was greatly prolonged. Still, with each hit, Dena felt her shields deplete more quickly, and she spent increasingly greater time in evasive maneuvers, and decreasing time on attack.
Ares congratulated himself, for though he would win no rapid victory, still he discerned that the Ides of March was faltering, no longer meeting him shot for shot. He fired at every opportunity, for even a glancing hit would degrade the Ides of March, depleting its shields, and furthering his chances for victory. Few battles had ever been as consuming or as dear to his heart. This was a grudge match, payback for his defeat all those years ago, for his stranding on the New Kingdom planet, and the betrayal that still stung his heart. Dale had made her greatest mistake in sparing him after their duel, and the battle had not ended there. It would stretch across time and space, for now his goal was not to return Xena's heiress to his side, but rather to destroy the chakram, and the Balance it signified. And in this war there was no place for sentimentality, for memory, or for the betrayal of his heart.
He brought the Spirit of Battle about, closing on the Ides of March, and commanded the weapons control to fire. Another hit, and his attack was not returned. The Ides of March rolled away, and dropped beneath his course. Suddenly, there was a flash, and a radiation spike, and a shock wave following it, and the concussion rocked his ship. For a moment the control room dimmed, then the systems reported nominal again. He checked his sensors, and he screamed in rage. Both the deserters and his new squadron had vanished, and from the expanding radiation halo he knew what had happened. That lunatic bitch Dale had sacrificed all her ships to destroy all of his. The Matter/Anti-Matter blast was unmistakable. His fury crested, and he wrenched the Spirit of Battle hard about in pursuit of the Ides of March. In his ears he heard the taunts of Xena and her descendants down through the ages; whispered threats, reminders of foiled plots, the taunts and recriminations, and their laughter that bit him with its ridicule. He could almost feel their presence in his control room, and he was distracted, his responses slowed by the rage that boiled in his heart.
The Spirit of Battle was struck again, this time by a sustained bolt which tracked him for almost five seconds, and he saw his shields drop to 85%. How in Tartarus had Dale managed to do that? He returned fire, reveling when the sensors reported a hit, and then another. The Ides of March was moving more sluggishly now, diverting power to maintain its shields, and it was an easier target. Ares fired again, and again the sensors reported a hit.
Dena knew she was losing it. She knew the sustained laser hits depleted the Spirit of Battle's shields much faster than several hits of short duration, but they also required more sustained power from the Ides of March, and her ship was depleting its power too fast. She had been struck again and again. The Ides of March stood at 63% capacity, and she was forced to divert power from the drives to maintain her shielding. It was a no win situation. Move or be hit, maintain shields or be destroyed. It was just a matter of time. She understood now how many of her opponents had felt as she worked them with her sword, cutting them and bleeding them, forcing them to defend and knowing the effort hastened their bleeding more. It was a hopeless situation. She thought of the black button, but the Ides of March said "not yet". Again she turned and fired, tracing the Spirit of Battle's course with her laser, keeping the beam in contact for four seconds as her ship's power reading dropped. The Ides of March moved only slowly to follow, and she could not maintain the attack. She saw the Spirit of Battle come about, and her shields charged slowly to 51%.
Ares was in a lather. The bitch had scored another sustained hit and his shields were at 77%. Soon he too would have to choose between the drives, the shields, and the weapons. He saw how slowly the Ides of March turned to follow, and he smiled. It would be over soon. Her ship was practically crippled, just a few more hits would bring her down and leave her helpless, unable to flee or attack, powering her shields as he wore them down firing point blank. He brought the Spirit of Battle about and fired. He fired again, and again. And slowly the Ides of March listed, drifting under the impact of his lasers. She had cut her drives. No return fire came from her ship. She was powering only her shields. Ares practically crowed in victory. It was merely a formality now. The thought that she would arm for self-destruct crossed his mind and he rejected it. She was too close to the Earth to risk a M/AM blast.
With a few more hits I shall destroy you, he gloated. After all the centuries you will be gone, and all these worlds; Earth, the New Kingdom, and the Old Kingdom as well, all these worlds shall be mine. Yet to rule them is not my goal, and if you knew what I planned to do you would activate a M/AM, and sacrifice the Earth to stop me. Yes, I know you, Xena, and Dale, and all the others. You have never shied away from hard decisions. But this time I am the wild card, and you have missed your chance to stop me. He fired, and the Ides of March lurched from the impact.
And now before him his enemy lay revealed. The shields had fallen, and the Ides of March was visible to his eyes. Never had the God of War seen anything so possessed of menace. He gaped at what Dale Sherril had wrought, for even though it was a helpless hulk, adrift, and target-locked at point blank range, even though he was a God safe behind his ship's shields, still he knew fear. Gods oh Gods, Dale had gone completely over the edge. Even in the depths of war and hatred for the enemy there were things that simply were not done. And she had crossed far over that line.
And now it was the moment of truth. Dena knew the Ides of March was finished. Its time had passed. It had fought heroically but it had been outclassed. As in her dream she had seen his ship glow, and the blast of darkness had come, drawing the last of the power from the shields and leaving her defenseless. Her finger stood a quarter inch above the black button, and Varielle was staring at her like a hawk. "To do or to do not, to be or to be not", she had once wondered how a man could command the Third Army of New Hellas. "Before the Will of a Great Power even the Gods may be scattered in the wind of its passing", and by the works of Dale Sherril, fugitive from the world of Dell, she would assume the force of a Great Power's Will. Before her the warship of the God of War began to glow, charging its capacitors and preparing to fire. "Two rings to hold the Dark and Light", and through eternity remain. Her finger touched the black button, and she knew what hung in the balance...the Balance itself. "One day we shall bring you comfort, for we have seen your darkest hour". The Spirit of Battle reached full charge. "Only with love and faith is there a cause for hope.
And her finger slammed down.
☼
CHAPTER 12: THE MOMENT OF TRUTH
"Behold, I am the Moment of Truth!" And the Immortal Flame burned bright within it.
No longer a whisper in her mind's ear, the ship declared itself, and Dena was flung from her chair like a scrap from the butcher's block. She lay on the deck, stunned and convulsing, and Varielle leapt to help her.
In the black tube below the body of the ship, the nebulous and blinding brightness grew, and within the ship a Will directed it with cold and heartless calculation. Energy and matter are the same, Dale Sherril had said, and matter and anti-matter will cause mutual annihilation, for on this the fearsome power of the M/AM is based. But in the trillionth of a nanosecond, after the Will of all the Great Powers had spoken, there had been a time when other forces had existed. In the Great Bang in which the universe had been born, matter and anti-matter, energy and anti-energy, had existed side by side, and then the winnowing had begun. The remains we can see, still expanding 15 billion years later, and it is a poorer universe, for by the cancellation of opposites matter and energy came to dominate.
Provided with the anti-matter gleaned from 483 M/AM torpedoes, Dale had conceived and built a weapon. And to direct that weapon she had created the Moment of Truth. There was no turning back. Dena had no influence, for the ship was its own master. In the black tube it directed the fractionation of the atoms of anti-matter into their component anti-quarks, and it converted these anti-quarks by energizing them, with a controlled annihilation, into a coherent beam of anti-energy.
Varielle was the Goddess of History and Knowledge, and she was the Heiress of Valerie Havarr, fugitive from the world of Dell, and she owed a blood debt. She vanished from the Moment of Truth.
Ares saw the roiling glow in the tube below the Ides of March, and he knew it was now or never. Perhaps it was already too late. The thing Dale had created had to be stopped, of this there was no question. All the turmoil in his mind was silenced, and clarity returned. All his plots fell aside, and willingly he shed them before the greater menace. What had he been thinking? And now there was only the moment. There was only one course of action he could take, and with the intent of a God he commanded the weapons control.
"Lock to target and sustain fire. Rescind all limits and sustain fire to depletion."
He had done all he could do and there was nothing more anyone could do. He closed his eyes and awaited the end. Almost 15,000 years of life, a pretty good run, he thought. Then there were warm arms around him, and he felt himself lifted, and he vanished.
The bolt came from the Spirit of Battle, and the Moment of Truth absorbed it, directing it to power the weapon. For a hundredth of a second it accepted the Spirit of Battle's energy, and then it fired. Directly ahead, at point blank range, the Spirit of Battle ceased to exist. No debris, no explosion, it was simply gone. And the beam lanced out into the void. It was the first anti-energy laser ever created, and it wrought annihilation of both energy and matter as it went. In its wake was a dark space, the true void, akin to the unimaginable negative existence that had proceeded the Great Bang, a void where not even light could shine. It was a rent in reality itself. Then like the air filling the space where lightning has struck, the matter and energy of the universe slammed in the fill the gap. Like the concussions we hear as thunder, the universe rocked with the shock waves, and like a ripple in the surface of a pond, they spread in a sphere, causing a disturbance in space and time.
In half a candle mark it passed the orbit of Jupiter, and in a little under 7 candle marks it left the orbit of Pluto behind. Its duration was 5 seconds, and it drew attention. From the void Great Powers drew near to see the phenomenon, a first of its kind. And at a distance of 25,000 light years, a fledgling altered its destination to investigate the possibility of a new weapon to acquire. The "Ancient One" had baited her trap.
☼
He opened his eyes and he was aboard a warship, and it was the Moment of Truth. He was numb from the whole chain of events, not yet realizing the significance of his presence, the shock of his displacement leaving him capable only of observing his surroundings. Varielle released him from her arms and ran to the figure of Dena, who lay on the deck, her wounds already healing. He looked around and saw the control room was little changed from when he'd known it as the Ares, but beside the captain's chair was a console with two buttons, and a small readout had extended from it. It was the controls for Dale's creation, and on the readout he saw something that froze his blood. The number "482" glowed in red on a black background. His mind whirled with theories and memories of the Defense Forces warships of the deserter squadron. That number had significance, and he knew it as surely as he lived.
Then realization hit him, and the impact staggered him, like falling into a pool of cold water while still fresh from sleep. By all rights he should have been dead, reduced to less than ashes, yet he lived. At the last moment Varielle had saved him, just as he had once saved Valerie Havarr when she had turned a New Kingdom planet into the midnight star. He turned to look at them, huddled together on the deck. He'd seen those two figures like that so many times before. He took a couple tentative steps towards them, and Varielle looked up into his eyes, and he was trapped in them, for they looked straight into his heart. And yes, now he realized his heart could feel sympathy, remorse, love and regret again, not just ambition and a craving for power. It felt like 7,400 years ago, and he still couldn't think of anything better to say. There were no better words, for the words came from the depths of his soul, and from the bottom of his heart.
"Thank you."
☼
"Congratulations, Dale," Xena said with a smile, "the Moment of Truth lives."
"So far so good I guess," Dale replied, "how close is the enemy now?"
"It/They are about 14,000 light years away," Xena told her, "they travel fast."
"They travel faster than light without jumping," Dale said in awe, "that was never believed possible."
"We only believe what we can imagine," Xena said, "and we've got too many limits. We can't go on like this you know."
"Well, that's what the Moment of Truth is for."
"You did a good job."
"We all did."
☼
Dena slowly got to her feet, and Varielle helped steady her. Her contact with the Moment of Truth had damaged her inside, and the healing was taking time. She looked around the control room and saw Ares standing near the captain's chair. He was looking at them, and she could see his darkness had left. He was much as he had been when Xena had died, Darkness and Light were balanced in his soul. It made her happy and she smiled at him.
"I'm glad you saved him," she said to Varielle, "I feel that we'll need his help."
"I repaid Val's blood debt," Varielle told her, "it was our moment of truth."
Under them the deck shifted as the Moment of Truth came about, and all around them systems powered up. The ship was no longer immobilized. It was moving away from Earth, accelerating to attack speed as though it had shrugged off the effects of the recent battle.
" By the Gods," Ares exclaimed, "this ship was dead in space. You lost your fight with the Spirit of Battle because your power was depleted. This ship can't be moving!"
But the ship was moving, and it was moving fast. Already it was passing the orbit of the moon, and still it was accelerating. They crowded around the navigation readouts, and they watched as the velocity readings increased. The readout was in fractions, not mph. The Moment of Truth was its own master.
0.06 vL, 0.09 vL, 0.15 vL, 0.24 vL. Outside the ports the appearance of space changed, the stars taking on a bluish hue. The numbers continued to rise, 0.36 vL, 0.51 vL, 0.69 vL, 0.90 vL. And then they were no longer aboard a warship. Around them the stars were blue streaks, and the Moment of Truth spoke.
"Transition complete, velocity is moot, preparing to engage the enemy presence at 600 light years from Earth."
"What in Tartarus...?" Ares' voice said.
"Initiating firing sequence, Armageddon is now, and I am the Destroyer of Galaxies."
Dena was frantic. Destroyer of Galaxies? She had once been the Destroyer of Nations, and in her guilt Val had called herself the Destroyer of Worlds. But Destroyer of Galaxies? She had to do something, but all around her was space. She had no body, and there was no ship. Nothing in her experience had prepared her for this. There was nothing that could have prepared any of them. Of all those who had ever lived, only Dale Sherril would have begun to understand what was happening, and only the "Ancient One" would have embraced it without reservation.
"Wait and watch warrior," Gabrielle's voice whispered, "you cannot act."
Ares was beside himself. Dale had created a doomsday machine. No one had ordered it to move; the warship had acted without orders. The Moment of Truth had accelerated away from Earth, and those readings, he suspected, were calibrated in fractions of the velocity of light. That would explain the red shift he had observed; the color of the stars ahead had shifted to blue as their speed appeared to compress their light, shortening its wavelengths, while the stars behind them were a deepening red. But now they were without physical presence, for the readings had passed 1.0 vL, and that meant they were traveling faster than light...and that was impossible.
And yet it was possible, for they stood off from the sun, and the near stars they had left behind. Around them more distant stars appeared to streak by, their color growing a deeper blue, now verging on violet. Then finally they could sense a presence ahead, racing towards them, projecting menace before it, and a voracious acquisitiveness. They could feel its consuming self-regard, and its imperiousness struck them like an affront. It was the opposite of everything they had striven for in attaining the Balance of Dark and Light. If it was possible, it had achieved a negative Balance.
"Anti-radiation metering complete...parameters locked...Firing!"
This time the bolt from the Moment of Truth was an order of magnitude greater than what had destroyed the Spirit of Battle, and in his mind's eye Ares saw the readout change from "482" to "472". He perceived it was a counter, showing the remaining anti-matter, in units derived from the M/AM torpedoes. The power was appalling. In his mind he shivered. Dale had definitely lost it back there. No one put that much anti-matter in one place at one time. Even shielded in the torpedoes it had been a mixed blessing, and what he had seen boiling in the tube under the hull had been a reservoir of anti-matter and anti-energy. It was nothing less than a potential destroyer of galaxies.
The bolt ripped through the fabric of the universe, eating energy and matter as it went, it's velocity was the speed of light plus their own. And they felt the bellow of rage and pain as it found its mark, illuminating space in a spasm of annihilation in the midst of their enemy. For a moment the hole it tore in space and time stood revealed, and then the stuff of the universe slammed in to fill it, and the stars convulsed around them. The counterattack was devastating in its intent, but it was part of the physical universe. The enemy created a gravity well and launched it at them. They felt its attraction as it passed, missing them by 0.1 parsec, but at the velocity they were moving it barely even affected their course.
"What by Hades was that?" Dena yelled as it passed, a darkness blacker than space that swallowed light and tried to pull them in.
"It is the mark of their defeat," Dale whispered to her, "it is a weapon of value mostly against physical beings. I don't think they've ever had to fight anything like us before."
"What are we?" Dena asked, confused as usual by Dale's statement.
"She means we don't exist as matter anymore," Ares told her. We gave up our bodies when we breached the speed of light."
"What...?"
The Moment of Truth was coming about for another attack. Again they could feel the presence ahead of them, but it felt smaller now, if that made any sense.
"Anti-radiation metering complete...parameters locked...Firing!"
The Moment of Truth fired again, and again it had increased the bolt's strength by an order of magnitude, the readout dropping to "372". This time the bolt struck the enemy, and it illuminated a whole nebulous area of space in an annihilation that would have engulfed a small galaxy. The howl of pain and fear that reached them from the wounded enemy was deafening, and the weft of reality opened before them. Then for a moment they looked beyond that which is, out into the gulf of a night where there had never been, into the primal dark everlasting. It called to them, seductive, offering oblivion of a finality that mocked death. And then it began to slam closed. Stars, gas clouds, novae, and even galaxies jumped towards the hole in space like water released from a dam.
The enemy turned to flee, and the Moment of Truth came about and gave chase.
"There is no alternative to being prepared, and if you start a war you must be willing to finish it." It was the Moment of Truth, but it spoke with the authority of a God.
"Anti-radiation metering complete...supplemental reserves required..."
Dena, Ares, and even Varielle felt something taken from them, and it was something they had each struggled to master.
"Parameters locked..."
Their souls began to cry out at the loss, and their anguish was like that of a parent that watches helpless as their child is carried off.
"Only with love and faith is there a cause for hope." Gabrielle whispered to them.
"We shall bring you comfort, for we have seen your darkest hour," the choir of their ancestors sang.
"The Cycle ends here." Dale proclaimed.
"Firing!"
And the meter read "-628". Then Dena saw the vision from the dream that had come on her 18th birthday. The blast from the Moment of Truth was a blinding haze of destruction. And the haze formed itself into a constellation, and it was a ring, and in its center was the s-curve, and it spun until it was a just a blur of brightness streaking through the void. The image of the chakram pursued the fleeing enemy, and velocity was moot. It closed to a parsec, and there it stayed, chasing the fledgling across almost 2.2 million light years. The fledgling sought its home, and just as a New Kingdom pilot had once brought a M/AM to its home world through a jump, so the enemy brought destruction to its home galaxy. The blast followed the enemy, and found it, and destroyed it, and the rent in the universe it tore swallowed the galaxy of Triangulum.
"It is done." Dale Sherril reported to the 63 generations that had come before her. "Now our cycle is closed, and a higher cycle begins."
☼
The Moment of Truth came hard about, and it laid its course for Earth, and when it was four light minutes distant it began its deceleration sequence. Dena, Varielle, and Ares viewed the stars as they shifted from violet to blue, and finally the blue tint too died away. The control room shimmered into existence and surrounded them, and they watched the velocity readout as the numbers dropped, 0.87vL, 0.66vL, 0.48vL, 0.33vL, 0.21vL, 0.12vL, 0.06vL, 0.03vL. The Moment of Truth took station above the Earth and held position in orbit above New Hellas. They watched with dull eyes.
"Well, it looks like we're home," Varielle said, numbed by their experience.
Dena and Ares were too drained to speak for they had lost the most. They sat in the control chairs feeling exhausted and empty, staring out the view ports at New Hellas below them, silent and unmoving. Their adjustment would take a little time.
One by one the ship's systems powered down. Indicator lights flickered and went out, and the throbbing hum fell silent. The ship drifted in orbit, inertia maintaining its position. The weapon readout folded back into the console, startling Dena for a moment, and then it too went blank. Last to shut down was the command computer, Dale's finest creation, and the Flame was extinguished as it closed its program. The warship spoke for the last time.
"The Moment of Truth is past."
☼
It is the Year of Our Lord 9,549, being the 135th Year of the Gods, and it is the 135th Year of the Balanced Cycle, the year 135 B.C. From their temples on Mt. Olympia, the God Ares, and the Goddesses Dena and Varielle rule the lands in peace. Not since Reign of the Goddesses, has mankind benefited so greatly, for the Balance they hold in themselves flows down to the people, and the old forces of Dark and Light which were taken from them in the Moment of Truth are no more. They were an anti-force, in opposition to the Balance, even as they composed it. The Spirit of Battle now leads mankind to master the elements of nature, for there are no conflicts of man against man within their lands. And over time, the influence of the God and the Goddesses spreads ever more widely.
The God and Goddesses fought an epic war in the founding of the Balanced Cycle, and its first year was spent in their healing. They returned to Earth, battered and soul weary from their losses, and Healers of the Amazon Nation supervised their recuperation. Then they returned to New Hellas in triumph and proclaimed themselves before the people with miracles. Yet in truth, the influence of the Balance was felt in many lands from the first day of their return, for at that time, many outlaws turned from evil, remanding themselves into the custody of the king. And King Liasis II, then in the 42nd year of his Blessed Reign, offered them pardon for their crimes, in return for their lifelong service to the people. Many other excesses of both Dark and Light were healed in that time, and when the God and the Goddesses proclaimed themselves in the year 2 B.C. the king died, for he was tired from his labor of ruling, and the number of his years was 69.
Mankind under the God and the Goddesses lives first by the breadth of its Imagination, and second by the application of its Will. This is the Foundation. By the application of the Will are the desires of our Imagination brought to reality. In the realm of possibilities are our battles fought, for the conflicts of the Kingdom have been forsaken. No longer do we fight the uncontrolled forces of nature as men had done since the dawn of mankind. Our motto, "As my will so mote it be", explains much of the change, for the Foundation is above the Kingdom, and it is a higher cycle in which we now exist.
The God Ares tells us that far across the reaches of space lie the remnants of two ancient empires of mankind, and that one-day their representatives may visit our world. They are empires of the Kingdom he assures us, and pose no threat. Even across the vast distances that separate us from them, the ideas conceived in the Foundation shall filter down, for these men too have a human consciousness. Given long enough, they may be very much like us when they arrive.
So now, when the crops need rain, the farmer concentrates his Will on the rain he sees in his Imagination, and the rain falls, and the crops are watered. Strange it would have seemed in the Kingdom, to see the rain falling on three fields, and leaving the fourth dry with the sun it needs, yet now this is our way, and the crops prosper. So too it is with the birthing of livestock, and the finding of ores, and the making of music. Magic people once called it, sorcery, the Will of the Gods.
Of the technology known to Varielle, the Goddess of History and Knowledge, we pick and choose, using only that which is required, and rejecting the frivolous and injurious, or tightly managing how widespread it becomes. Thus one may find a computer assisting in the record keeping of a factory, but no personal motor vehicles, and very few plastics. They are undesirable to us, and they are an embarrassment to those who must use them. Eventually, the Goddess tells us, they shall no longer be needed.
Here then, in the Foundation, mankind has taken a step toward Godhood. What we do by our Will was once ascribed to the powers of the Gods, for we command the forces of nature. We draw closer to the powers of the ancient Gods and Goddesses, closer all the time. Someday we shall surely be their equals, surpassing them eventually, for it is much in our Imaginations, and it shall surely come to pass. It is just a matter of faith. And on some distant day, after a higher cycle or two has come and gone, we shall ascend to the majesty of the Great Powers.
☼
"Watching the kids?" Dale Sherril asked the "Ancient One" as she walked over to join her, noticing her gaze was directed at the temples on Mt. Olympia far below.
"Yeah, can't help it now and then." Xena confessed.
"They've come a long way in the last 135 years," Dale observed, "I think Dena and Varielle have done a great job."
"And they make a really cute couple too," Valerie Havarr added with a wink.
"They sure do," Gabrielle agreed, "Aphrodite would have been proud."
"I'm proud of all of you," Xena said, smiling at them, "they'd never have made it without the Moment of Truth, Dale."
Dale Sherril, once fugitive from the world of Dell, actually blushed from her ancestor's praise. It wasn't common, and was always heartfelt.
"And none of us could have done it without you, Xena," Dale said, truthfully, "you were the original wild card, the first to achieve the Balance."
"We were all wild cards," Xena said, thinking out loud, "and yet I have to wonder if it wasn't all part of a plan."
For a while they were silent.
"I guess we'll just have to wait a couple more cycles to find out." Gabrielle finally said after some thought, and they pondered on that as the world turned below them.
☼
THE END
"Gods' fortune be with you, and keep you safe from the darkness of this day. May you walk with the sun, and dream with the moon. May the Great Power bless thy eternal journey that you one day find your way. So mote it be."
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