Meltdown Ophilion - Book One

52_CONFRONTATION

Greshon glanced around the studio, still recovering from the shock of the unimaginable, humiliating experience he had been forced to endure. Rage built within him, and he unwisely directed it at Lothion. "You... you told us you had complete control!" He accused, his jaw quivering. "You said you could bring us the key to break the defenses of Quarinor. But now we stand to lose everything!"

"Don't you think we foresaw this?" Lothion rejoined in a measured tone. "Remember all that we have shown you; remember our power and what we have already delivered to you..."

"Which is as good as nothing!" Greshon seethed, "If the population of our world turns against us. We have worked long and hard to bring Kypro to this point. We have planned and prepared and..." Greshon's diatribe was cut short as Lothion constricted his throat by means of his mental power.

"Do not forget," Lothion enunciated clearly, "who gives you your advantage." Greshon held up his hands in surrender and the alien released his hold. The unfortunate ruler lay on the floor gasping for breath, having received punishment from alien super beings for the second time in the space of an hour. None of his colleagues made a move to help him.

"Let this be a lesson to all of you," Lothion said wrathfully. "You are all here for one purpose..." he looked at each of the rulers and scientists. "To serve us! And not the other way around!" Lothion stood and began pacing the floor as he spoke. "Do you know how long I have been in existence? Hmm?" The humans watched him carefully. "No one cares to answer?" Lothion looked at one of the scientists, "You?"

The scientist began trembling and shook his head slowly. Lothion pointed in his direction. The scientist crouched, raising his arms in defense. Lothion lifted his hand and the man began to rise from the floor, gasping and crying out in terror till he was pressed flat against the ceiling. The others watched in horror, hoping they would not be the next object of the alien's displeasure. "So, who has the greater power? You think it's them? Hmm?" Glances of uncertainty were cast from eye to eye.

"Well," the dark lord went on. "If they really did have greater power..." he withdrew his hand and the scientist dropped to the floor with a thud. He groaned in pain but did not utter a word. Two of his companions rushed to help him into a sitting position. "Then why are they leaving? Anyone with real power would have killed us all and taken control themselves, wouldn't they? Very strange indeed that they would make all this fuss, just..." he sniffed derisively and shook his head at one of his underlings who mirrored his master's smirk, "...to try to convince a few Cholan to join their side.

"What are they afraid of? Is it our hidden powers which we have not yet reveled to you but which they are well aware of?" Greshon looked with contempt at the Ophilion in the studio. "Is it..." he locked eyes with the prime ruler, "...my secret weapon?" his expression became unreadable, "is that why they ran? Is that why they cannot harm us – cannot hold us more than a few mec-lan?"

Greshon looked at Lothion with a new sense of hope; he was desperate not to lose the dream of greatness he had so diligently constructed over the last twenty-five years. "Or do these Merenthaal," Lothion spat, "really work for us, ridding us of those who are not worthy of the new order we will create once we have control of Quarinor. Who is serving whom?"

He focused on a vision in his mind. "No, my friends, even though we pass through opposition, we will emerge the dominant power. Let us not rest till we have taken Quarinor and made it ours. Then, with the power available to us from that world we can find and punish the deserters." The commander took a deep breath, savoring the sweetness of the ideas of revenge and victory. "In only a few calah, everything will change."

Greshon regretted having questioned the Baccaran's abilities. He realized, too late, that his best option would have been silent observation. But he was used to being the one to make final decisions. Clearly, this would no longer be the case. A line had been crossed and they were now in open confrontation with the Merenthaal. This was not a realm he was familiar with. He would have to follow his new master now, and hope that, once they had Quarinor safely under their control, he would be recognized by Lothion as the rightful ruler – at least in name.