The King's Knights

Chapter Eleven: Bastille Arrives

It was only once she woke up to the the infinite void that Bastille remembered how she hated cryo-drugs.

Bastille awoke and remembered how much she hated cryo-drugs. Sitting in cryo-sleep for weeks or days while flying was always unpleasant. But then, once, she'd had to go through it awake when the cryo-chamber had failed. She'd read the same three books a hundred times and slept a lot.

Master Atraya had made that bearable. Their minds had been able to reach out and touch one another. Experiences mixing in the dark night of space. Yet Master Atraya was not here, and Bastille was on her own.

And beneath her lay Erian.

"Erian. I've seen it in my dreams. So much war and hatred lie on the surface below," said Bastille, speaking to those there. A universe observing a reality that was not wholly real. "The third world of the Demos system, named for the legendary founder of the Demoration. It looks so peaceful from up here." But it wasn't peaceful.

Bastille could sense the bloodlust lurking beneath the surface. This was a world of war. And Bastille wondered why Jaha had such an interest in it.

"Still, I'd best make contact with Mistress Atraya..."

Stretching her legs as much as possible, Bastille moved her neck and arms in her seat. Little by little, she got the stiffness out. She checked her hair and confirmed it was still tied in two short braids behind her head.

Then she saw the ship. A huge pleasure cruiser designed to survive in dangerous areas if necessary. It was like a legless scarab drifting through space with several satellites. All ready to intercept incoming vessels. Thousands of tiny windows were on it, where passengers could look through.

What was it doing here?

She opened a channel and prepped her engines, just in case.

"Unidentified vessel, this is an underdeveloped planet," said Bastille. "I am Bastille, Judge of the Demoration. In the name of the order, I command you to identify yourself and explain your presence in orbit."

"Apologies, Judge Knight," said an apologetic tone. "This is Captain Roman of the Karsif Corp Capital Class vessel, Amon. We're a resort ship. We were originally brought into orbit to play host to a planned party by Artulkan. He intended to reward some of his allies on the surface by showing them some superior tech.

"After he was arrested, we stayed in orbit to observe the situation."

"Have you landed anyone on the surface?" asked Bastille.

"No, ma'am," said Roman.

Bastille nodded. This was still illegal, but it was the sort of thing that routinely looked the other way around. There was a long list of things you could prosecute, but they weren't worth fighting over in practice.

A lot of things weren't worth fighting for. The order was spread thin.

"Good," said Bastille. "Make sure that does not change. This is a delicate matter, and I fear a rash move may provoke the locals into further violence. Send everything you have gathered to me and any relevant records."

"Yes, ma'am," said Roman. "I'll get to work at it right away."

Bastille cut the channel and then slammed a fist against the bulkhead. "Who does Artulkan think he is? I shall mention it to Mistress Atraya."

And she opened another channel, this one long distance. After a moment, a beautiful, silver-haired elven woman appeared. She was elegant as always with her silver eyes and white robes. Behind her was a hellish, trash-strewn landscape that contrasted her heavenly appearance. "Sister Bastille, I was expecting your call some time ago.