The Turquoise Queen by Iuri Bhering

Author:Iuri Bhering [Bhering, Iuri]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-30T23:00:00+00:00

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The Eletlim patriarchs also disliked low ceilings and confinement. In a separate room, they took a moment to convene before going their separate ways. The room was by the building's private docks, with a wide window overlooking their anchored, crescent-shaped corvettes. Parked next to them, the sinuous Nihailon vessel, its metal-glass surface refracting sunlight in awkward angles.

"I went along with you two in there. Against my better judgment," Meveda spoke. "Tell me, what can we possibly gain by entering a war that doesn't concern us?"

"There are plenty of hubs between us and the frontlines. Even if the Sencris win, they'll be busy for decades taking over this and the other big, relevant star systems, before coming after us. My world, and your rock collections, are perfectly safe." Lenidra's tone was conciliatory, despite the jab at his less fortunate peers. "Joining their alliance costs us little, and earns us their favor."

In the distance, a formation of Raiac frigates came into view, the silver filigree on their wings glinting in the dusk light, above the station's spiraling skyline and the vast blue crescent of Raichr. The void always tempted Eletlim to spread their own wings, to soar into its limitless expanse. An insane sentiment which crawled out from under their crests whenever they stared at such a view.

"Can you not see the opportunity this represents?" The Neltlis patriarch followed the three warships with his great grey eyes until they moved out of view. He was by far the oldest of the three, with small patches of mottled skin showing under his thinning plumage. He turned to face Meveda, and away from Lenidra. "If we win..."

"The odds are not good," the yellow and dark orange man interrupted. "Even if everyone in that room flies together, the Empire still has the largest fleet."

"If we win," Neltlis insisted, ignoring that pessimist observation. Numbers did not ensure triumph. He had many years of experience at proving that. "There will be spoils. What is the one thing we don't have, that the Sencris have too much of?"

Meveda's four black, interlocking mandibles parted slightly as, in his head, he began to piece together the elder patriarch's long-term objective. It would be difficult. It would require much war and negotiation. Even after conquered, it would require perpetual vigilance to maintain. But it was possible.

"A world," he whispered.

"Mountains, vast fields of silvery grass, blue skies to fly in. A warm wind on our feathers. How long has it been?" Neltlis spread his red and orange wings to take in imaginary updrafts.

"Too long." Meveda mirrored the gesture in agreement.

They both turned back to the window, contemplating the vast blue oceans and islands far below. The patriarch of Lenidra smiled to himself. Whatever far-fetched objective guided his peers did not matter. They were in agreement. The three stayed there a while longer, enjoying the open space.

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