Last Gryphon (eBook)

Prologue

Aurelian Cortoss strode boldly through the broad marble corridor of the Confederated Systems senate building. He was a short, stocky older man. His head was balding, his belly expanding, and his face was lined with long decades of service. If one were to encounter him on a crowded street, he would not stand out. He was not particularly memorable, until one looked in his eyes that is. Those pale gray eyes radiated an inner fire that had unnerved more than one opponent in debate on the senate floor. Senator Cortoss won those debates much more frequently than he lost. Currently, the honorable senator was en route to a meeting of the Senate Armed Forces Provisional Committee. He was running late, but, as he was the chairman, the meeting could not begin until he called it to order.

As Senator Cortoss stalked the halls of power, staffers and menials hastily made way for the great man. The Senator’s burning gaze never wavered as he passed these inconsequentials. The occasional calls of ‘Good Afternoon, Senator’ went unacknowledged. The Senator was completely absorbed in his own lofty thoughts, until he passed a lowly janitorial menial hunched over a mop. Beyond an area marked off with ‘Wet Floor’ warning signs, the old man sloshed the mop back and forth desultorily.

“A’agtak Cortoss melthass sha’lok tala,” the janitor mumbled apparently to himself. Without breaking his stride, the Senator swerved into a nearby executive washroom, all thoughts of his meeting gone. The menial dunked his mop into the murky gray water of his bucket and steered his service cart in front of the rich heartwood door of the washroom and quietly stepped inside. Men, women, and ‘bots continued to flow past oblivious to the washroom on the business of the Confederated Systems government.

Senator Cortoss was bowed over the rich porcelain basins at the far end of the room, a trickle of water running from the gold tap. When the door clicked softly closed, he whirled around to face the menial. “We are only to speak in their language! Anyone could have heard you, and you call me a fool? How dare you!”

Most people would have withered under the Senator’s glare and harsh tone. The menial appeared to grow in stature. The hunched form straightened; the withered arms seemed to gain mass. The man’s watery, colorless eyes took on a silvery glow as the human features melted from his face, and for the briefest of instants, the sallow, almost maggot-like pallor of his skin darkened to a coal gray. It seemed to glisten oddly in the cool light of the washroom. A weirdly glowing rune flashed blindingly bright on the man’s right cheek. As quickly as these changes manifested, they disappeared, and the broken down menial again stood rooted in place facing the Senator. “A’agtak! Fool! Yes. I call you a fool! I speak for the Council. Before their authority the power you weild over these evolved apes is insignificant! You will bow before me!” The deep and powerful bass voice that issued from the throat of the old man did not belong to an aged and withered body, nor could it have come from a human throat at all. It echoed with command within the Senator’s mind.

The Senator fell prostrate at the feet of the old janitor. Had anyone happened to enter the washroom at that moment, he would have been stunned at the sight. “Forgive me. What is your command, Emissary?” The Senator’s voice quavered with fear.

The inhuman voice answered tersely, “Get up.” As Senator Cortoss slowly climbed to his feet, the janitor continued, “I require a full report of your activities. The Council has many concerns. They continue to progress at an alarming rate and spread like a stain across the galaxy. In less than a millennium, they have colonized and ruined hundreds of worlds. Their recent advances in self contained FTL drive technologies brings them closer to our frontier than ever before. I have been sent to oversee and provide … direction to your efforts among them. They must be stopped immediately.”

The Senator had been staring at the ground between them until at these last words his head whipped up to glare at the other. For a mere second his eyes seemed to regain their inner fire. The anger was clear in his voice as he spoke. “Direction? I was to be the lead for our initiatives here. I will not subject myself to a glorified mess—“

“Silence!” the frail form appeared to swell again, and a powerful sense of menace was projected into Cortoss’ mind. “It seems that you must learn your place, A’agtak.” With those words, an invisible hand picked up the portly Senator and flung him across the room to slam him with bone shattering force against the far wall. He was held, pinned against the wall, the tips of his brightly polished shoes scraping against the cream-colored tile floor as he gasped futilely for air.

Senator Cortoss choked, his eyes as big as thrust nozzles as the menial casually crossed to the row of basins to wash his hands. The other worldly voice spoke calmly as he laved his hands. “You see, Senator, I am not without resources. You will report to me, and you will take my direction. The Council is less than pleased with your efforts here, and there is some concern that you may be, to borrow one of the ape’s pet phrases, ‘going native’.” The janitor paused and with an almost negligent wave of his hand, he released the Senator to slide down the wall into a crumpled heap on the floor. “Now, I am here to consolidate and reorganize our campaign. I will expect your report immediately. You will prepare a complete list of all ongoing activities and a complete list of human operatives for my review.”

The Senator pressed his face to the washroom floor, the tiles cool against his fevered forehead. His voice was muffled as he spoke. “Emissary, I was on my way to an important committee meeting. There are items up for discussion that affect ongoing operations. I must be there.”

“Cancel it,” the other ordered tersely. “This takes precedence. There are events in flux that could change everything. The seers have seen chaos, collapse, and invasion. This must be averted at all costs.” Seconds passed after the Emissary stopped speaking, and Cortoss did not move. “Well? Get moving!” the old man snapped.

Cortoss shot to his feet as if electrified and bolted toward the door. As he jerked the door open, he turned back into the room abruptly asking, “How will I contact y—“ his voice trailed off as he realized that the room was now empty. He blinked several times in stunned surprise and stared at himself in the gilt-edged mirror that covered the far wall above the row of basins.

The Emissary’s powerful voice smote the Senator’s mind, driving him to his knees with a cry. “I will contact you, A’agtak. Now stop wasting precious time. Go! Do as you have been bidden.”

The Senator fled the washroom, slamming into the abandoned janitorial cart in his haste to get away. This collision sent the cleaning supplies on the cart scattering in all directions. Men and women stopped in their hurry and stared at the powerful Senator as he fled down the corridor back in the direction of his office. He shoved a junior staffer out of his way in his haste and kicked a small courier drone into a potted plant.

A short time later. Locked in the sanctuary of his office, Senator Cortoss sat at his massive oaken desk (rumored to have been brought in one of the first corporate colony ships from the ruins of old Earth). The sumptuous furnishings and thick carpeting on the floor gave a sense of decadence to the room. A dry bar with Vross crystal decanters sitting atop it lined one wall. Opposite the dry bar was a grand bookcase filled with hundreds of ancient paper books, some of them the only copies left in existence. A giant holoframe hung behind the great desk above the Senator with an image of a ConFed heavy cruiser on display. The cruiser was christened the CFS Cortoss, the ConFed fleet’s newest commissioned warship.

The Senator sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose as he stared at the blank screen of his terminal. Curse that Emissary, and curse the Council too. For that matter curse the seer whose visions prompted the cursed Council to send the cursed Emissary to meddle in my existence. Now everything would change and not for the better. He heaved a second sigh and put his terminal on line.

Keying in a series of security codes, Senator Cortoss created a virtual data fortress. Then he pulled open the top left hand drawer of his desk and, sliding open the false bottom, withdrew a small black box. ConFed encryption was good, but the black device was better. It was not ConFed technology, and Senator Cortoss’ possession of such a device would have gotten him taken into custody for espionage and executed. That is, if the Central Security Agency cryptotechs could even figure out what it was.

The device created a narrow-band sub-space pulse in which large packets of data could be exchanged over great distances in real time while bypassing the extensive data security and scrutiny that all ConFed government systems were subjected to. The Senator placed the box next to his terminal and tapped the top of it. A red light blinked on then off and then back on again. Slowly the red light faded to amber still blinking, blinking with increasing rapidity until it was continuously lit. Cortoss tapped the box again and a...