"Star Warrior" by Dave Cripps

The shining blue shuttle manoeuvred itself into position above the slowly revolving space station. Silently it moved alongside the disk of Kevlar-One. Mimicking the stations’ movement it descended into docking bay one.

Bay one was the largest on Kevlar-One only used for visiting dignitaries and the Kevein Emperor. Yet on this occasion the massed bands of Kevel and a myriad others waited, in trepidation, with thousands of sightseers, for the most important visitor to enter the station yet.

This visitor, watching out of one of the shuttle’s tiny portholes, was not an Emperor nor any kind of political leader at all. He was a soldier. Not just any soldier but the most respected general the Seven Empires had ever known.

His name was unknown, even to himself, since he was never named and his parents died before they could give him a name. Yet, even though he was born of a beggar, he had risen above all that his existence had thrown at him. He had lead armies on his home planet and fought for a name. And that name he had won in a thousand battles. His name: Star Warrior.

As the bay doors closed and an atmosphere rushed in to meet the shuttle the crowds and waiting bands were able to enter the bay. A security cordon was thrown up to protect this great man from his adoring disciples. The bands struck up an appropriate military tune as the warrior appeared on the steps of the shuttle. A great shout went up from the surging crowd, people at the front were crushed as those behind pushed forwards to snatch a glimpse of the great man.

Resplendent in a dark blue uniform with all the trappings befitting one of his station, Star Warrior smiled through his battle scarred features and waved his synthetic left hand at the crowd. With his right hand he put on a pair of dark glasses, so that his eyes could not be seen, otherwise he may have upset somebody. He had only one eye the other being as synthetic as his hand. His right eye had been gouged out in a hideous ritual in the star system of Phlax when he had lead a small band of mercenaries on a raid there.

The mercenaries had been overrun by the Grand Army of Pharr and put to death, all that is except Star Warrior whom they intended to sacrifice to their perverse god. In the process of this ritual his eye was plucked from his face. Only the timely intervention of a Kevein Scout Party had saved him from certain death.

As Star Warrior was escorted to a safe place away from the crowds he enquired about the reason for his invitation to Kevlar-One. He was told that the Emperor would soon be joining him and that they would both be transferred to the planet Kevel below. There he would hold a meeting of the High Council, any more than that the Emperor himself would inform him of.

Satisfied with this response he enquired in his deep melodic voice, “When will the Emperor be arriving?”

The Envoy, seated opposite him on the auto-transit, smiled pleasantly through her long black hair, “His Highness will be arriving in a day or so,” she informed him in a sweet childlike voice. Then added, “please feel free to use the facilities of Kevlar-One while you wait for His Highness to end his visit to Moon Three. He should not be detained for too long.”

“Moon three,” mused Star Warrior, “I lost a lot of good friends there,” he sighed and shook his head, remembering the happenings of that particular war.

Moon Three had been overrun by a strange cult that worshipped the demons which that had raised by way of an ancient ritual. With these demons they planned to slowly subvert Kevel and her allies into their power. They nearly succeeded, as well as many high ranking politicians the cult infiltrated the army and were ready to pull the final coup-de-grace on the establishment when Star Warrior arrived. He was able to quickly find the root of the cult and then, with the help of the Kevel army, he disposed of it. The final battlefield being Moon Three.

That was many years ago, almost too long. Star Warrior had been a young man then, he had barely known the anguish of war. But now he was older, wiser, war was now his last resort. His most favoured weapon was now diplomacy. He rarely failed to settle disputes between the Seven Empires and their neighbours now. Only once in the recent past did he have to use war as an alternative. Though that was such a short-lived war, the enemy were overrun by the Seven Empire Axis before they even knew it. And only then were they forced to listen to diplomacy.

As he and the Envoy left the autotransit station they began to chat about what had been going on since the last time he was in the system. Laughing, the two of them made their way towards Star Warriors’ luxury apartments in one of the local hotels. These apartments had been set aside especially for him so that he could relax in solitude before his meeting with the Emperor. A guard had now been assigned to him and as he entered the hotel, to the loud adulation of the crowds gathered outside, his guard zealously escorted them inside.

Once inside Star Warrior turned to look out of the lobby windows and surveyed the scene before him. Beyond the crowd lay the station of Kevlar-One, an exact replica of one of the cities of the planet below. The beautiful Shance, with its parks, gardens and buildings blending into the landscape. Shance was considered one of the most romantic cities on the southern continent or even the entire world of Kevel. The only give-away was the curve of the station rising into the distance.

Star Warrior spent three days relaxing in the city enjoying the company of the Envoy. They walked in the parks and gardens, chatting to each other, meeting the citizens of Kevel-One. She took him to a hospital where he was greeted by young and old alike. Talking to the children he was treated like a beloved uncle. On leaving a ward and moving on to another he quickly gained a small procession behind him. When the time for him to leave came some of the children cried as well as a few adults, for they loved him so. To the people he was their hero.

And so Star Warrior enjoyed the delights of the station as he waited for the Emperor to arrive.

On the third day Star Warrior was seated on a comfortable chair on his balcony, watching the autotransits slide past, listening to the sounds of an athletics meeting in the distance. A vid screen, showing a programme he was neither watching nor listening to, informed him that the stations’ weather forecast was for ‘light afternoon showers’. On hearing this he smiled, he loved the rain even if it were artificial.

“Star Warrior?” a voice behind him made the warrior spin around in the chair a knife found its way into his hand, he was ready to fight.

With a grin he realised that he was in no danger. He stood, placed the knife on the table, moved into the apartment from the balcony and bowed low.
“Your Highness,” he acknowledged the Emperor.

The Emperor bowed to his friend then asked whether the Warrior would appreciate some more company. Star Warrior expressed that he would be honoured if there were more people to join in their talk. From behind the Emperor appeared six heads of state followed by two guards, all attired in their appropriate finery.

Bowing low Star Warrior greeted the High Council of the Seven. He was definitely honoured to be in such distinguished company. Though one thing did intrigue him slightly, the reason why all seven had their weapons on such prominent display. Being courteous he did not wish to pry and so did not ask.

They all introduced themselves, though there was no real need since they were all well known to each other. They then sat down in a group, leaving some space between themselves and the Star Warrior. Something seemed not to be quite right, the seven rulers in front of him were somewhat on edge, almost uncomfortable.

They talked for some time about how and what the next meeting of the Council of the Axis would be about. They explained that they had arrived on Kevlar-One in secret so as not to cause any hysteria, which would definitely occur in the presence of these eight great leaders. Star Warrior agreed with them on this point and soon his anxiety of the Sevens’ motives were eased.

Then, without a leading comment about it, the Emperor told Star Warrior that he must, for the good of all the peoples of the Axis, die.

There was silence, Star Warrior raised the brow above the stump of his missing eye. He enquired about the statement, at least they could explain why he must die?

“For the good of the people of the Axis of Seven,” began the Emperor in a monotone, Pulling out his hand pistol he stood up and aimed it at the Warrior, “we must kill you.”

“An explanation sir!” demanded Star Warrior standing yet finding himself restrained by the two guards.

“The strange reason is that you are too good at your job Warrior,” continued the Emperor, his face full of sadness, tears had begun to streak his thin face. The others were just as distressed as him as they too unholstered their weapons and stood.

“Any disputes are easily shrugged off by us. And our peoples want for nothing,” resumed the Emperor, apparently the spokesman for the group, “Yet they are wanting. the cultures of our Axis are stagnating. Too much peace is a bad thing for us. Without a cause to strive for we are stranded in one age with no way forward,” he wiped away his tears and primed his weapon. The guards flanking the Warrior moved away yet the Warrior made no move to escape.

“Our reasoning is that we need war, as well as the peace that you brought us, and please do no think that we are not grateful, for we are. But war helps us prosper in mind as well as material gain. The Seven will not war with itself, be assured of that, but others may war with us and to war with them will give our peoples purpose. Be assured that you will always be revered as a hero and others may take your place, farewell my friend and please do not grieve for us.”

With that the man who had cheated a thousand deaths, and prevented millions more, gained seven and was no more.