Saving the Prime Lords Life

2000 short story by Jonathan Hicks

Thirty-five years after Episode IV – A New Hope

Part One

Brotus walked slowly with the two senators keeping in step beside him. The garden of the palace was vast, stretching right up to the outer wall of the building, and filled with plants and animals found nowhere in the Ki-Ki Sector but here, in this place. They had been imported from systems that were either part of the sector or were about to be conquered and the animals and plants there destroyed so that the garden was unique. Every day entire species disappeared as the dwindled numbers vanished, unable to procreate far from their natural habitat and their numbers too low to spread in such a small place.

Brotus liked that. He felt, as he walked through this mass of greenery which had survived, that it was like the sector itself. That which did not agree to being manipulated by the throne withered and died, whilst that which integrated itself with it flourished. He often visited the garden to remind himself of that.

   “He con... continually questions our m-motives and abilities as senators,” the senator Attonus was saying. His fat cheeks glowed in the sun, his brown face watching the strange insects scuttling across the gravel path. He wiped a hand across his balding head nervously. “I tell you, commander, the Prime Lord is becoming, dare I say it, a p-p-problem.”

   “It is true, commander,” added Ibro. He was thin and almost gangly, old and wrinkled with a dark patch of curling hair on just his left temple. “Only last night he accused us of laziness in the interests of the Ki-Ki Sector and pointed fingers at Attonus and I especially!”

Brotus looked at them both in turn as each one spoke. They were the only two senators he had personally petitioned to become part of the advisors of the Prime Lord, considering they were both distant relatives, when he had thought that having two voices to support his own ideas would be helpful. Those days were long past now that he used his powers as the commander of the forces of Chinngard to virtually go over the senate anyway. He would find that after long debates about the pros and cons of his decisions in the chamber he would only find that the senate disagreed. So he would do it anyway.

He found that their obvious plea for him to intercede was annoying him.

   “So why do you come to me?” Brotus asked after a long pause. “It is not in my power to casually intercede. That can only be accomplished by a vote from yourselves.” He decided to invoke a law of Fedarn, where ruling and politics were separated, and feign indifference, knowing full well that in his position he could easily remove them from their leadership.

Attonus stammered a reply, a speech impediment that annoyed the commander. “Not... not to sound d-disrespectful, commander, b-but we have already c-considered that. The p-people like him. We are in a v-very unstable p-position in the eyes of the p-people and removing their f-favourite Prime Lord would undoubtedly...”

Brotus waved him quiet. He knew what the senator wanted to say but was exasperated by the time he was taking to say it. “I don’t understand. You know my thoughts and feelings towards the advisors of the throne. I have made it quite clear that I could do without you, but the people want to think they have a hand in the shaping of the Ki-Ki Sector and that’s why I tolerate you.” Brotus clasped his hands behind his back and looked at the two men intently as he waited for an answer.

The senators looked at each other nervously. As far as they were concerned they had been petitioned by the commander and were therefore able to come to him for aid. Here they were, in this alien garden, asking for that help and Brotus seemed as angered by their presence as by the presence of the Prime Lord himself.

   “Commander,” Ibro bowed slightly at the waist. “With someone else like us in power you could have your decisions ratified by the advisors almost immediately and therefore your ideas would progress faster. There would be no need for debate or talk. Just swift, decisive action.”

   “Someone like you, you mean,” the commander said quickly. He turned his accusing gaze from Ibro to Attonus. “Or you.”

Both men fell silent.

Brotus was incredibly tempted to simply throw the men out and carry on the way he wanted it, by-passing and simply giving orders. He knew, however, that the Ki-Ki Sector only existed because of the people. If they thought they were being manipulated and lead around like mules by a man not on the throne who was obviously abusing his power as a commander he would have more dangerous rebellions than the ones the former Prime Lord had been threatened by.

   “Commander Brotus, we d-do n-not mean us. What we suggest is that the Prime Lord is removed and we enst-enstate someone more willing to obey your words.” Attonus suddenly became very penitent, his bow low and his hands clasped to his chest. "Perhaps even yourself on the throne."

Brotus smiled. “And how do I remove him from office? As you say, he is loved by the people. I know this. He speaks honestly and says what they want to hear. Even bad news is changed to good news by his slippery tongue. Are you thinking a scandal? What kind of scandal? He drinks too much, eats too many strange foods and enjoys the music of the Setnin Sector. He has always been honest to everyone about what happens behind his doors. I find it difficult to believe the people would not allow for even the greatest vice. Maybe an abuse of power? What do you think he's doing already? What exactly would you have me do, senators?”

Ibro had expected this question and had prepared for it. “Commander, last night the question was raised about sending fresh legions to take Leogard in the Setnin Sector...”

   “I have already discussed this with the military,” Brotus grumbled as he thought of Cathum’s continuous rejections of his plans to take the system. “Apparently we have not enough of a force to guard the Ki-Ki Sector and attack Leogard.”

   “The question was raised as to whether conscriptions would be in order, from the populace. There would be a huge force if we took young healthy men and armed them. Brotus disagreed, saying that the people relied on the throne for their security and should not have to lay down their own lives for that privilege. That was why they paid taxes.”

   “If such an order was given b-by the Prime Lord,” Attonus continued, “the ch-chances of the p-people not agreeing to such an order would not b-be a p-problem.”

Brotus rubbed his chin in thought. Perhaps they were right. He hadn’t considered conscriptions and the idea of a huge force, even one not properly trained, flying to Leogard to overwhelm the forces there in superior numbers appealed to him. He would be known as the commander who took the great Leogard of the Setnin Sector and the men who died would be thought of as heroes for spilling their blood in his name. They would die in their thousands as blaster fodder, that much was true, but it was a small price to pay for the glory of the Ki-Ki Sector.

And he so wanted to take Leogard. If it wasn’t for Cathum’s cautionary personality and the advisor's bickering ways he would have given the order immediately and marched to the planet. Had it not been the previous Prime Lord's decree that they attack the Setnin Sector? If the people and the advisors wanted that then there was little Cathum could do. All that stood in his way was the Prime Lord, beloved by the people and hated by the advisors.

Brotus suddenly thought of the armour and clothes of the dead Setnin Sector messengers he still had stored in private chambers of the palace back on Chinngard. “The people are gathering soon for the Prime Lord's yearly parade, aren't they?” Brotus asked.

   “The heralds gave the news this morning,” Ibro replied.

   “So their hatred of Setnin is increased, yes?”

   “Yes.”

   “Would they be willing to march on Leogard if the Setnin Sector tried to kill their beloved Prime Lord right here on Fedarn, do you think?”

Attonus started, shocked at what the commander might be suggesting, but Ibro placed a hand oh his arm and quietened him. “Yes, Brotus.”

   “Then I think I will call in the services of some men I know,” Brotus wondered aloud as if the senators were not present. “They are loyal to me and see the broader picture as I do. I see a way to solve two problems at once.” 

Part Two

The impact of the blaster bolt was heralded by Tunius’s scream of pain as it entered into his waist, head-height to the Prime Lord as the slave was standing in his seat, and exploded from his back. Atheus looked up, shocked at the sudden scream and surprised when he saw the smoking body tumbling away from him as Tunius fell from the forward seats and into the back of the transport.

He yelped, stock still with shock and a sudden indecisiveness.

Dagger watched the slave fall back and immediately responded. He flung himself up onto the transport and slammed his energy shield down in front of the Prime Lord from where he thought the shot had come from. As the shield covered Atheus’s body another bolt slammed into it.

Atheus started to clamber backward away from the attack but Dagger grabbed his hand and slammed it against the handgrip in the centre of the energy shield.

   “Hold it!” he shouted and leaped up from the transport and stood in the back, sword ringing as he pulled the vibrating weapon from its leather scabbard. Then he pulled his blaster from its holster.

The sight of the black-armoured lizard suddenly appearing with his weapons ready over their heads was enough to cause the crowds about the open-topped speeder to scream and rush away. Citizens tripped over each other as they scrambled to make their escape from what they feared would follow. They had come here, in the grand marble streets of the capital, to see their Prime Lord parade for them. They had not come to see slaughter.

Dagger could see three figures forcing a path through the crowd from an alley to the left, one with a strangely built blaster in his hand that he was trying to re-load with another energy pack. They wore peculiar armour with single-piece chestplates and helmets that had single crowing decorations, short masts that terminated with flocks of feathers. The helmets protected the head, with facial protectors that came down over the nose and completely covered the cheeks.

The one with the blaster was finding it difficult to load as the screaming crowds pushed past him but the other two had long curved swords in their hands and were even now bursting from the rout. They pointed their weapons in the direction of the Prime Lord and gave a loud cry before they charged that drowned out the roaring people.

   “For the Setnin Sector!”

Dagger landed on the ground after leaping from the transport, his legs bending only slightly as he went into a run from the jump. He lifted his sword so that the hilt was level with his head and the blade pointing at the would-be assassins and vaulted forward, his other hand outstretched with the blaster ready. The three beings ran at each other.

Dagger could feel a fire in his chest that stole his breath and made his eyes become more sharply focused in the dusty street. His limbs seemed to suddenly tense as the sensation washed from his head to his feet as if he had been covered with a shower of cold water. A shiver, overpowered by an immense sense of anticipation, swept over him.

As the first attacker held his vibroaxe above his head for a chop downwards he ducked and moved sideways, the blow missing him by a hand’s span and connecting with the ground. Dagger’s outstretched arm looped the warrior's wrist of his weapon arm. He leapt up as he cut down, the blade hacking through the unprotected arm and severing it at the elbow with the sound of sharply breaking wood. Before the man could scream his response Dagger had spun, twisting his sword in his hand so that the blade pointed down from his grip and sliding it into the poorly-armoured back of the crippled man. Without stopping to see if his first adversary was dead Dagger pulled the weapon free and turned the sword to a more comfortable position, crouching and waiting for the second to strike.

The second man had been cut off from striking as Dagger had leaped to the far side of the two and the now dead warrior had come between them. He levelled his weapon and crouched also, his eyes narrowed and wary.

Dagger noticed a brief look of confusion flash across the man’s face as he conducted a quick survey of his opponent before he went into his combat stance but he let it slip from his mind immediately. He was ready for whatever attack his adversary could throw at him, unless there was a fighting style he had not been taught by the gladiator school, and he prepared for the worst. The assassins were not scared of attacking the Prime Lord in a busy street in daylight; they were either incredibly brave or incredibly skilled. On the side of caution Dagger agreed with the skilled option.

The attacker leaned back slightly and Dagger, who had been staring at the man’s chest so that he could see almost all of his body to help ascertain what attack he may attempt, saw the bend in his rear leg. He jumped back as the man jumped forward, the curved sword reflecting light across the lizards face as it arced in his direction. Already out of the arc of the weapon but still vulnerable to the point, Dagger angled his sword and deflected the blow, bringing his weapon up again as the attacker swung his blade from the first attack up and down for a sweeping second. Dagger stopped that blow, too, but he knew was being forced backwards as the third blow came at him. The wielder was accomplished, he knew that by the way he recovered quickly from the deflected strikes and attempted another immediately. He was purely on the defensive as he felt a market stall stick into his back.

As the attacker prepared for another blow Dagger heaved his buttocks up onto the stall and rolled backwards, his legs going up over his head, across several layers of cloth the stall was advertising and then back onto his feet on the other side. The sword sliced through the garments for sale and then through the thin metal of the stall.

Dagger marvelled at the sharpness of the vibrating blade as it cut through the cloth layers and the stall. He readied to jump back again as his adversary placed a boot against the stall and pushed it over with a heavily muscled-leg. It started to topple towards Dagger but he saw that the gap between the flat surface where the clothes had been stacked and the cloth shade above it was large enough for him to stand in so he move forward. The stall landed around him with a crash and a cloud of dust.

The attacker had already started to lean over the stall to continue his attack so the lizard thrust up from his crouched position, his blaster shooting up through the skull and into the helmet.

Dagger stood as the body toppled backwards, looking up to see where the man with the blaster had gone.

Atheus stared up at the strange armour as the attacker loomed over him. A blaster clattered at his feet as the man threw it down and pulled a long-bladed dagger from a belt sheath.

Fear took him. It wasn’t the fear of death itself but that of meeting death and not knowing from whom or why. He had felt the same way on the battlefield all those years ago, when he had taken up weapon and armour on Chinngard against the enemies of the throne, but he didn’t remember it being like this. As a soldier he knew why the men fought and died on the field and being killed was a risk he knew and accepted. Here, in the supposed safety of Fedarn, he could never have imagined dying through violence.

The man lifted the weapon above his head for a lethal strike and Atheus could see the intent on his face, a huge rent in the side of his helmet, the dark skin and narrowed eyes. He stared into the eyes and, strangely, thought them the eyes of a dead foe, unfocused eyes he had seen many times. The sight of the man seemed to imprint itself on his mind as this was the last sight he may see.

There came a strange whining from behind the man as he stood tall above Atheus. As Atheus watched the man reach the apogee of his attack his face suddenly parted between the eyes in a shower of sparks. The dead assassin fell forward, past the Prime Lord and off the cart to the dusty street below.

Atheus, shocked and shaking violently, looked back at where the blaster shot had come from and saw Dagger standing by a toppled stall, his blaster outstretched and legs bent, one arm out behind him. He stared at the man and saw blood down his armour and down his arm. Two bodies lay on the ground by him, indicating that by all probability the blood on his bodyguard wasn’t his. He took in a deep breath, drawing in the sweet smell of the blood on the cart, as the lizard regained his posture from the throw and started to walk towards him.

He looked up as the crowd slowly started to surround the scene and watched as Dagger wiped his sword on the dead man’s body with a foot on the back of his neck 

Atheus shivered as Dagger looked directly at him, taking deep breaths to calm the after effects of the feeling that had come over him as he fought.

He could see those eyes again, as he had on the attacker, as he had on Tunius who lay in the transport. They looked Cold. Blank.

Dead.

Here, in front of him, did Atheus see his fear come alive. Fear that Dagger would find out that the man whose life he had just saved had killed his father and slaughter him with the same indifference.

Part Three

Atheus whirled, his sweat-covered face shining in the morning light, his eyes fixed directly on Cathum who stood before him. With a shaking hand he wiped his face with an already sodden cloth and collapsed onto a small couch.

   “I’m telling you what I saw, Cathum,” the Prime Lord said. “Three Setnin fanatics, fully armoured, coming at us and Dagger killing all three of them.”

   “Setnin bastards. Here.” Cathum stared out at the night sky, which seemed to be starting to fill with clouds. As he spoke the thin curtains waved inwards from a cold wind blowing from across the lake. “I don’t doubt your words, my Lord, but Setnin on Fedarn... where was the street militia? By the time I heard of it the street had been cleared. You had long gone and I couldn’t get a straight story.”

Atheus waved a hand, which also propelled the cloth onto the tiled floor. “I don’t know, I don’t know. Probably stuck in the crowd flooding from the streets. If Dagger hadn’t been there...”

The Prime Lord was looking at his hands, holding one out and observing it tremble before clenching it into a fist. Cathum watched with interest, noticed how the conversation so far had dwelt on the attack but every time Dagger was mentioned Atheus seemed to avoid discussing it.

Cathum saw this and watched his Lord intently. He waited for a few moments before saying, “What is it, my Lord?”

   “What do you mean?”

   “There’s something you’re not telling me. Did something else happen?”

Atheus remained silent.

   “With Dagger?”

Still silence.

   “Was he hurt? Did someone see him?”

   “No,” Atheus said sharply. “He never gave them a chance to hurt him. It’s just...”

The silence returned. Cathum was a very patient man but the situation regarding Dagger was serious to him and he wanted to know immediately.

   “What?” he prompted sharply with a little more passion than was necessary.

   “We’ve both watched men kill,” Atheus said in a small voice. “In battle, in the arena. There’s always a response. Either a sickening realisation at what’s been done, or exultation at surviving. Something.”

Although Cathum wasn’t sure where Atheus was heading with this line of talk he sat down on a couch opposite and remained quiet.

   “But Dagger,” the senator whispered. “Cathum, there was nothing.”

   “I don’t understand, my Lord.”

   “There was nothing. No passion, no wild exclamation, no... nothing. He seemed to accept the deaths. He may as well have shrugged it away but he didn’t even do that.”

   “Atheus, guards are trained to accept combat and the results of it.”

   “But he seemed so dead. He looked at me and there was nothing in his eyes. Like a bagglefish.” Atheus looked over at the un-eaten supper laid out for him. “He was cold, it made my flesh seem to crawl across my back. Left me feeling numb. Cathum, if this lizard remembers what I did to his father..."

   “Atheus, it's been four years since that and he has been conditioned into the service of the throne. His species grow fast but he appears to be short of memory, we've turned him to our way of life...”

   “Cathum, you didn’t see him.”

The Prime Lord appeared to deflate as if the words had exhausted him, which in truth they had, and he wiped a hand down his face.

   “Do you hear the people?” Cathum said in a low voice as he walked towards the balcony.

   “I hear them,” Atheus whispered. “'Dagger the hero’ they roar. ‘Dagger the slayer,’ they scream. When the reality of it sets in...”

   “I fear you can't do away with him, now, with the feeling in the city. His fame. How can we handle it on a political level? Can we use the hatred towards the Setnin Sector to our advantage, start a fresh attack? We could send Dagger into the front lines as the peoples hero.”

The subject of politics seemed to pull the Ki-Ki leader from his reverie and he sat forward. “I’ll stand in front of the advisors and say that this is the time for vengeance. We know the Setnin threat is capable of getting to us in our own city so we must concentrate on defending ourselves. Diminishing the defence of Fedarn would make us vulnerable and the people have to see that.”

   “The advisors may not agree.”

   “They’ll agree as soon as I mention that their estates will be under threat while the army is away. It doesn’t take much, I can tell you, to manipulate the chamber when you mention lands or credits.”

   “Fully armoured Setnin assassins,” Cathum mused aloud. “How in all the nameless Gods did they get into the city?”

   “With some difficulty, I should imagine,” Atheus answered, not realising the question was rhetorical. “The one who nearly killed me looked as though he had already seen combat.”

Cathum became interested. “How so?”

   “His helmet had been sliced, on the left. He may have killed a guard getting inside the capital.”

Both men jumped as there came three loud buzzes at the main door. The sound snapped them from their thoughts and they both stiffened as they heard the muted voice of Dagger challenge the visitor. After several moments another of Atheus’s slaves walked in, a look of fear in her small dark eyes, and she bowed.

Behind her were two guards and a man Cathum knew well. Brotus walked in with a straight back and long purposeful strides, his face glowing with a smile. As the slave started to introduce the visitors she was drowned out by Brotus’s deep voice.

   “Cathum!” he cried, then suddenly remembered his station and stopped short, bowing at the waist. “Sir.”

With an effective attempt at disguising his unsettling feeling at seeing the leader of the garrison on Chinngard Cathum returned the smile and held out his hand. “Commander Brotus,” he said, gripping the officer’s wrist as he gripped his. “It has been a while since my posting you on Chinngard. What brings you to Fedarn?”

   “The Prime Lord's yearly parade, mostly, but at this time I’m afraid I must hurry you all. A celebration is about to take place. I’m to convey you all to the forum.”

   “A celebration?” Atheus said with confusion dominating his voice. “Of what?”

   “Of the saving of your life, Prime Lord. The people wish to honour the guard who saved your life and the victory over thwarting the Setnin attempt. The citizens amass even now. Your presence is requested immediately. The people want you to bestow a baton of honour on Dagger.”

Cathum could see Atheus start to protest, or at least make a comment in defiance of the idea of a celebration, but he quickly interceded. “Of course.”

   “I have been sent to escort...”

   “My own guard await outside, we will be fine, thank you. It is good to see you again, Brotus, we will have to talk soon.”

That effectively ended the conversation. Brotus, a little surprised but quickly slipping back into this enigmatic smile, bowed. “As you wish, sir, my Lord.” He took a step back, spun on his heel, and absent-mindedly waved the guards to follow him.

Atheus waited until he heard the door slide shut before he turned to Cathum. “Cathum, why did you agree to this!”

The soldier stared at the Prime Lord, saw the face crease as worry-lines deepened. The man was sweating so hard the sun on his skin shone on every bead of moisture, rolling down the cheeks and gathering on the chin. Cathum crossed over and placed a hand on his shoulder which was damp even through the thick robes.

   “My Lord,” Cathum said soothingly, “this is the moment where you can make your desires clear. There will never be a better time for you to state your intentions for our final push against the Setnin Sector. Let’s get through this and then deal with what we have left, yes?”

The Prime Lord took in several deep breaths. “What will we have left, Cathum? Oh, why am I getting so upset about that damnable guard?”

   “Because that damnable guard is the embodiment of Arkin's last words.”

   “I don’t believe in curses,” Atheus said sourly.

Cathum stared at the trembling man. He allowed a quick smirk which Atheus didn’t notice.

   “Don’t you?”

Part Four

The air was filled with colour as hundreds of petals from dozens of flowers showered around the amassed. The throwers, stationed as they were on the tops of buildings and walls, gazed down on the people and continually reached into baskets for fresh handfuls. Their faces were shining with wide smiles which they cast down on the crowds like loving parents. The citizens looked back, arms raised and voices loud, as they revelled in the spectacle of it all.

The long open area, surrounded by columns and statues, was the largest gathering place next to the stadium of Fedarn. It was where the Prime Lord addressed his people directly, where the citizens of Fedarn could gather to share the joys and tragedies of their leaders. The only colour of the area was the petals. There were no trees, bushes or plants. Everything was stone and marble, glaring in the high sun, which dominated even the sky.

At the far end of the long forum was the Prime Lord, seated on a couch at the top of a high flight of steps. He lifted a hand every now and then which sent the crowds closest to him into more cheers.

Atheus had a thin-lipped smile which was betrayed by his narrowed eyes. Although he looked pleased to be in sight of his people he was secretly worried. He was about to make a declaration to his people and he was concerned of their reaction. He could still hear the underlying passion in the voices – that of marching on the Setnin Sector – but the fire of it had died somewhat. He hoped that he had timed this well and that the people would cheer and roar their support. That was what he needed. A total positive response. If half the people cheered and the other half frowned then he had lost. It would not take much for the citizens who agreed with him to be turned by their cautious fellows.

   Such is the way of life in the Ki-Ki Sector, he thought as he stood to wave his hand at the crowd again who responded eagerly. You wait until the majority has voiced their opinion and then you agree with them.

   That will change soon enough. Soon it will be my opinion and no-one else’s.

Atheus peered down the long concourse as the crowd at the far end started screaming maniacally. Several figures had appeared at the entrance to the forum and were slowly making their way down between the masses towards the Prime Lord’s position atop the stairs. The noise of vocal joy swept down the people like a wave of energy, each person joining the noise even though they couldn’t see the cause.

In the back of two simple silver open-topped speeders rode the men the people had come to see. In the first one were Cathum and another soldier who eyed the crowd warily, his gaze resting on several individuals who turned their eyes away hurriedly. In the second speeder were Brotus and a nervous Dagger who controlled transport. He stared wide-eyed at the crowds and then at Brotus who patted his arm reassuringly.

Atheus watched as the vehicles approached at a slow speed.

The Prime Lord suddenly made a face. “Dagger,” he whispered, gaining a side-long look from his advisors.

The speeders arrived at the base of the stairs and pulled up. All four disembarked and started the slow climb to the top of the steps, the people pressing in closer to the stairs for a better view. A myriad of colours clashed from multiple clothes, glaring in the hot sun and as several of the citizens started to place feet on the first step a line of soldiers with shields marched from either side and blocked their ascent with a wall.

Cathum was dressed in his finery, the gold and brown chest plate with heavy shoulder protectors and his helmet with the red plume under his arm. Brotus wore his armour of office, white trimmed in purple, and Dagger wore his guard's armour, black like polished marble with the dark helmet and long black plume standing proudly on is head. They climbed the steps until they stood in front of the Prime Lord. All three went down to one knee and lowered their heads in deference.

The citizens called out Dagger, Dagger as they pumped their fists into the air and gazed upon the scene with joy. Atheus held out his arms wide and flicked his hands up to indicate the four should stand. As they did the crowd went back to cheering.

Atheus held up his hands for quiet but it took several moments for the masses to cease their crying out. As the last voices were nothing but echoes in the distance the Prime Lord pulled a great breath and began.

   “Citizens of Fedarn,” he called in a loud, booming voice. The acoustics of the forum carried the sound all around the area and those at the back looked up at speakers on the walls above them which repeated the Prime Lord’s words so all could hear.

   “We have gathered here to show that we are strong in the face of the danger that our enemy the Setnin Sector presents to us. They dared to attack us within our own system!”

Atheus had decided to get straight to the heart of the matter. Whatever sense of vengeance the people still had against Setnin for the attack on their Prime Lord needed to be manipulated and he could think of no better way than telling the citizens what they were feeling.

The crowd responded how he wished, casting threats and curses on the Setnin Sector. He allowed the voices to drift before he raised his arms again for quiet.

   “See how they failed,” he cried out, making a sweeping gesture towards the men who stood before him. The people cheered mightily.

Cathum glanced at Brotus to see him staring at the steps with eagerness, hiding his face from the Prime Lord by half-turning away from him. Brotus noticed his gaze of curiosity and returned it with one of his own. He indicated to Atheus by way of flicking his eyes at him and then looked back at Cathum.

Cathum simply shook his head slightly and looked at Dagger who was staring out over the people with an expressionless face.

   “They dared attack your blessed Prime Lord, but a guard named Dagger defeated them! In celebration of this mighty task, I wish to present the hero of Fedarn with the baton of honour which will grant him the freedom of the Ki-Ki Sector!”

The crowd cheered again, arms in the air and voices stabbing at the crowd at the top of the stair.

From the middle of the crowd Cathum heard the chant. It started as one man’s appreciation and swept through the citizens until all were chanting ‘Dagger! Dagger!’ 

The four words of the chant that now rang around the forum seemed to pulsate in time with the thick veins that now appeared on Atheus’s neck. His breaths were obviously coming short and ragged and he almost appeared ready to tumble.

Cathum looked at Dagger and saw he was unbuckling the chinstraps on his helmet and lifting his hands to take it from his head. He would have given anything at that moment to leap forward and hold the helmet in place but he seemed rooted to the spot.

The helmet came away from Dagger’s head.

He looked directly at the Prime Lord.

Atheus was visibly shaking but as soon as an aide placed a hand on his shoulder he started and then tried to calm himself. He looked down at the crowd to see the huge mass of the people nearest the base of the steps looking up at him with confusion. The noise of their passion had slowly died and a few questioning voices could be heard drifting from them.

   “Citizens!” Atheus suddenly shouted, the sound more of a scream to the ears of the attentive. “Forgive me! This crime is so hideous, that the cursed spawn of the Setnin Sector should place a foot within the walls of our beloved city and attempt this murder. It sickens me to my heart! How much longer must we endure this evil? How must we stop it?” His hands were fisted and up either side of him, his eyes wild and his voice so loud so that the shouters towards the rear of the forum need not have repeated his words. The citizens were roaring their indignation towards Setnin.

   “We must destroy what has always been a threat to us!” Atheus continued before the people could recover from his last outburst.

   “Dagger!” Atheus shouted again, lifting the baton from the cushion and holding it out to the lizard.

Dagger approached the Prime Lord and, even though his stature appeared high and straight, Cathum almost saw him shrink next to the huge guard, his eyes locked onto the visage of the being.

   What is he seeing? Cathum wondered. Dagger or his father?

Atheus thrust out the baton so that the man wouldn’t have to come any closer, his hand shaking not from the weight of the item but from the fear he was finding difficult to quell.

   “Dagger, saviour of the Prime Lord, hero of Fedarn, will you join the legions as they march to destroy the Setnin menace?” Atheus continued in his echoing voice.

Brotus looked out at the people with an almost imploring look, as if to try and persuade them into the dangerous route they were about to take. But the eyes of the people were firmly locked on the Prime Lord and the lizard as Dagger took the baton from the hand of Atheus and held it to his chest. They were almost salivating as they waited upon the warrior’s words.

Brotus had seen similar expressions on them in the stadium. An expectant hush fell over the crowd as they waited for the being's answer. It was as if they waited for the death blow of a combatant in the arena.

   “Gladly, Prime Lord,” Dagger said.

The noise that swept from the people was more deafening than anything they had heard up to this moment as the Prime Lord gained his wish. Atheus, suddenly euphoric, stepped forward and placed a hand on the shoulder of Dagger and held his hand up to the crowd who roared even more.

   “We invade the Setnin Sector immediately!” Atheus called out.

Cathum wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light but he thought he saw Dagger cast a quick look at the smiling Prime Lord. His face, shadowed as it was by the buildings about him, almost resembled the look of a man trying to remember a face. As quickly as the expression came it went and Dagger turned his eyes back to the crowd.

Saving the Prime Lords Life

2000 short story by Jonathan Hicks

Thirty-five years after Episode IV – A New Hope

Histories – Dagger cements his place in the Ki-Ki hierarchy as events propel themselves forward with dizzying speed.  Now the saviour of Ki-Ki for saving the Prime Lord his place at the vanguard of the attack on Setnin is assured – an attack paused to begin.  This Jonathan Hicks tale sets up the coming invasion.

Cast of Characters

Brotus

Ibro

Attonus

Tunius

Atheus

Cathum

Dagger