The Unnamed Feeling, Epilogue.

[Fitz Kreiner]

Epilogue;
Trapped Under Ice.

“You are sure about this?”

The Grand High-Lord sat on his raised throne, surveying the rest of the council. “You question me? We have to accept that ours is a dying world,” he said, his eyes narrowing through the red visor of his elaborate helmet. The emerald green trimmed with gold glittered in the red light of the council chamber. “Our only choice is our sunward neighbour.”

“I believe the natives call it Earth, My Lord,” Zryya, the youngest female and member of the council said. She was sat in her seat, her slender physique indicating that she had yet to produce any hatchlings. An emerald and gold sceptre was in one of her clawed hands and a vast plume of white-emerald green hair came from the top of her elaborately shaped helmet and trim green armour allowed her to show her shapely body. Her thin lips twisted as she contemplated how to deliver what she was to say to the rest of the council. “History records state that a scout craft was sent there some centuries ago; it never returned.”

“If indeed the natives are hostile, then why have they yet to conquer our world,” Ghrrylz replied. “The only conclusion that I can draw is our craft was lost to an accident, if indeed the craft was sent at all.”

“History records,” Zryya began.

“Enough,” Axyzx replied, the leathery folds of her scaly skin wobbling as she almost shouted the word. She was the eldest of the two females on the council and her form was starting to bloat, great folds of skin sat around her neck and limbs. Small patches of matted fur came from under the back of her helmet. She had been responsible for producing seventeen hatchings and three hatchlings of hers had risen to become the most prominent warriors, one sat at the Council.

“My mother is right,” Ghrrylz replied. “History is not important, what is, is our current situation.”

“We shall remain on track,” the Grand Marshal agreed. His bottle green military uniform was highly decorated with campaign medals and his helmet sparkled with emerald flints. The most decorated warrior lord, he sat to the right of the Grand High-Lord. “Our attack fleet is already beginning preparation to leave, we have our choice to lead the spearhead.”

“I am unhappy about this,” Zryya said. “He does not always follow the Code of the Warrior; he has engaged in some dishonourable tactics and is prone to sadistic acts.”

“Being only a pre-hatching female, you cannot understand fully the Code of the Warrior.” Ishyll said. Sitting to the left of the Grand High-Lord, Ishyll was the eldest of the council, his great age and wisdom held in high respect from everyone, even the Grand High-Lord who entrusted him as his closest advisor. “He has risen from the common warrior class to this position. This mission will endow him further with the skills he needs. From it he will learn fully the true function of the Lords.”

“I do feel that Zryya has a point, my Lords,” Krysh stated.
Stepping down from his chair, Krysh stepped into the centre of the council. From their chairs in the arc around him, the council looked down. Krysh was the most wayward of all the council. He represented the civilian caste. Spreading his arms wide, he addressed the gathered council.

“He is, after all, one of the lower of my own caste; one of the lesser clans even. He still maintains a lot of this in his being. It will take more that spearheading our attack for him to learn the Code of the Warrior fully.”

The sound of the Grand High-Lord slamming his staff of office on the stone floor of the council chamber echoed around the room, causing Krysh to turn to face his Lord.

“Lord Krysh, you shall return to your seat and remain there whilst the council is in session,” the Grand High-Lord ordered.
Meekly, Krysh returned to his seat.

Returning to the matter,” Zryya said, “this planet has a different atmosphere to ours. How will this matter be dealt with?”

“I believe my department can help with this,” Hiyxzyl, the Lord in charge of the scientific caste nodded. “Their atmosphere is different to ours, but breathable, it will just be uncomfortable to our spearhead force. The atmosphere of Earth is seventy-eight percent nitrogen, and only twenty-one percent oxygen. The seed pods that my science teams have bio-engineered will produce a fungus that will thrive on the oxygen and vegetation of the Earth and rework it to a more breathable atmosphere for us.”

“Satisfactory,” the Grand High-Lord smiled, his thin lips drawing back over his pointed teeth. “No longer will we be trapped down here on a dying world. What of the natives?”

“It is believed, My Lord,” Hiyxzyl bowed, “that they breathe oxygen, and the depletion of it from their atmosphere will destroy them.”

“On what is this theory based?” Axyzx asked.

“Long-range surveillance of their bases on their satellite,” Hiyxzyl replied. “It is believed that it is the main construct of the atmosphere recycling plants there.”

“Supposition?” Ghrrylz asked.

“Scientific theory,” Hiyxzyl said. “I am sure that our warrior caste can overcome the natives of this ‘Earth’.”

“My warrior caste will be able to subjugate the native population,” the Grand Marshal said. “If the seed pods fail, we will triumph with military might.”

“What is the strength of their military?” Ghrrylz asked.

“We do not believe them to have a military strength,” the Grand Marshal answered. “From scientific reports, and I believe Hiyxzyl will corroborate this, the so called warriors are armed with simple projectile weapons. They cannot penetrate the armour of our warriors.”

“What of the closer proximity to the sun,” Zryya asked. “Reports state that the surface temperature at the equator is too hot for our species.”

“The effect of the seed pods on the atmosphere will affect the temperature,” Hiyxzyl said. “It may take time for the whole biosphere to become more suited to us but it will be.”

“Enough,” the Grand High-Lord snapped, his clawed hand snapping together with a loud clacking noise. “We are all agreed that the debate is over and all is prepared.”

In unison, the council chamber agreed, those with sceptres, banging the staffs on the floor, the others clapping their clawed hands against the arms of their grand chairs. The applause was silenced by a single chopping motion of the Grand High-Lord’s arm. Standing and raising his arms, his grand cloak of green flailing behind him, he turned to the two guards at the doors to the council chamber.

“Send him into us,” he commanded before sitting back down.

Together the two guards at the doors opened them to the corridor outside. The sound of doors opening further down the corridor could be heard, followed by the sound of footsteps. The footfalls got louder as they approached, the ‘clomp clomp’ of the warrior lord’s boots hitting the red stone floor of the corridor outside until the lengthened shadow of his helmet started to show through the doors. The length of the shadow shortened as the lord approached.

With a bow, the young new lord stood in the centre of the council chamber, awaiting the words of the council. He was in silent awe, having never been down the Grand Corridor which led to the Council Chambers before. It was an honour reserved for the greatest of Warriors and Lords. Even the Warrior Guards, in their heavy and bulky armour who guarded the doors, were greatly honoured to just open and close the doors to the councillors.

“My Lords, My Ladies,” he rasped, bowing deeply. He was hugely humbled to be in the room, let alone granted audience to the council.

“Do you know why you have been summoned?” Ishyll asked.
“My Lord,” the young lord answered.

“You are aware of the ecological crisis which threatens our world,” Ishyll continued.

The young lord nodded in acknowledgement.

“We have selected you, from the many of your kith,” the Grand High-Lord took over. “You have shown great promise and for that we feel that you will be the ideal leader for our spearhead.”

“My Lord,” the young lord bowed deeply, flushed with the compliment. “I shall lead the spearhead to the best of my ability. What is the mission directive?”

The Grand High-Lord sat forward in his throne, his clawed hand directed at the young lord stood humbled before him. “You are to take an expeditionary force to the moon of our sunward neighbour, Earth. Our scout research shows that their world travel exclusively by a method known as ‘T-Mat’, from what we understand, it is a form of teleportation. You are to take control of the lunar control base and secure the T-Mat system. From there, you will keep an operator alive to transport these seed pods to the Earth,” the Grand High-Lord pointed to the storage container which was placed next to Hiyxzyl’s chair. “They will absorb the oxygen from the atmosphere, thriving on it and the Earth vegetation. It will deplete the atmosphere, converting it to one that will be more breathable to us.”

“Pardon, My Lord,” the officer interjected, “but if the atmosphere is not suited for us, should we invade the alien base?”

“Their atmosphere contains more oxygen than ours, but enough nitrogen for us to breathe,” Hiyxzyl answered for the Grand High-Lord. “It may be slightly uncomfortable, but will be breathable.”

The young lord bowed in acknowledgement to Hiyxzyl before turning back to the Grand High-Lord.

“You will make sure that the fungus thrives,” the Grand High-Lord continued, “until our fleet arrives. The Grand Marshal will be heading the first wave of the fleet, you will have them transported to the surface to gain control over any survivors. Once we have control over the planet, you will signal for the main fleet to launch.”

“I understand, My Lords,” the young lord bowed. “When do I leave?”

“The spearhead craft is being prepared now,” the Grand Marshal replied. “You shall leave upon the next dawn. Do not fail us; this mission is now in your hands.”

“I shall not fail you, my Lords, ladies.” With a deep bow, Slaar turned to leave the council chamber, a cruel smile breaking across his thin lips, revealing his pointed teeth. He would finally show the Council that he was more than just a member of the lower caste’s and deserved an elevation to higher levels. This mission would make his name known across the whole of the population.