The Spectrum Force Volume Four by Heather Ray (bearly read books TXT) 📕

She stopped breathing when the small vessel docked with the large base. Through her view screen, she saw the large white city, surrounded by the near-blinding light of the star within which is stood.

Slowly, she deactivated the engines, and unstrapped her restraint.

I shouldn't have come here. I should've stayed on Earth. I'm needed on Earth...

Though she had a sneaking suspicion she was needed in Lumina City as well. And she would return to her station before anyone was the wiser... so why should she worry?

She stepped out of her Starglider, turning toward the man that greeted her in the hangar. "Spectra... I thought I felt your approach."

She bowed formally. "High Father."

She could see the rebuke lingering in Luminus' wise eyes. "I have already explained to you that your duty is on Earth. If Phaedra gets a foothold in the Outskirts-"

Incredibly, Spectra interrupted him. "I know the risk, High Father. I am only here for a short time."

Luminus approached her, noting her mutinous expression. "I also told you now is not the time to help your father." His voice was gentle. "He is still lost within the throes of the fever. His mind is a dangerous place. Not even you can find any clue about the Diadem from him."

Her gaze hardened. "I'm not here for the Diadem. I'm here for him

. I want to try and reach him. Not to explore his mind or learn his secrets... just to be here for him."

He opened his mouth to protest, but the defiance in her gaze spoke louder than any argument she could form. With a small sigh, Luminus waved his hand. "Very well, the choice is yours. But prepare yourself for what you will see."

She nodded, the steel in her face softening as she met no more resistance. Luminus patiently guided her through the halls, taking her directly to her goal.

They walked in silence, and with each step she took, Spectra lost a little more of her nerve. By the time they reached the medical wing, the young woman's heart was in her throat.

"Please give her a neural buffer," Luminus requested.

"That's not necessary..."

"The moment you enter that room, you will be bombarded with images strong enough to twist your very heart and soul. You must be as prepared as possible."

She let the trusted elder set the metal headband around her temples. "I will wait outside for you. If I feel you are in danger, I will come to help you."

She nodded mutely, a grateful smile on her lips. Then, she turned around, and slowly walked into the eerie ward that housed the unfortunate victim of Phaedra's bitterest wrath.

By now the technicians had left, creating an illusion of privacy. Spectra swallowed to moisten her dry throat.

He lay on the cot almost peacefully, his only motion the slow rise and fall of his chest. He had been drugged, no doubt to prevent him from harming himself in his feverish thrashing.

Though he was far from peaceful. Even before Spectra deactivated the protective buffer, she felt the electricity in the air.

"Father," she murmured, hovering at his bedside, "it's me... Spectra."

She paused. She wasn't waiting for a response, for she knew he couldn't provide one. Yet she still hoped her words reached him, somehow.

Shivering with anguish and fear, she sat down on the chair beside him. Hesitantly, she grasped his hand. Her eyes had blurred with tears, but she didn't bother to wipe them. Instead, she lifted her free hand, and pulled off the buffer.

Had she not been seated, the dizzying swirl of confusion, panic, and agony would've stumbled her. As it was, she swayed against the psychic assault, her grip tightening on Gaius' hand.

She trembled as she marshaled her strength, blocking out the distraction of his pain. And then, she released her counterattack.

Her thoughts were a balm, mild and soothing to the aching soul. She drew from the depths of her heart, meditating on the love she sustained for her father, and her mother. She focused on happier times, when they were a family united. Back before compromise, duty, and tragedy, there had only been love.

At first the strain was hardly bearable, as she pushed against a mental wall that was trying its hardest to crush her efforts. Yet slowly, her persistence was rewarded. The storm of Gaius' mind eased.

"Father," she breathed, her eyes swimming, "can you hear me?"

He didn't respond. His eyes didn't flutter, nor did his hand return her desperate grip. No telepathic whisper wafted through her mind. And still, she just knew

he could hear her. On some level, he was aware of her.

It was more than she had expected.

"On Earth, today is dedicated to the people they love," she told him softly, "and I chose to spend it with you."

A lone messenger stood outside the chamber that was once the traitor's personal quarters. The last man to enter this door had been obliterated by the empress.

He had stood in that very spot for nearly an hour. Nervous eyes glanced at the unassuming round disk that sat in his palm. He had no idea what was contained on that disk, for it would only activate when in the presence of the unique energy signature of its intended audience.

Suddenly, his collar began choking him. What was the old saying about shooting the messenger?

How did I end up the royal messenger?

he wondered, not for the first time.

Still, he took solace in the simple fact that he had survived this

long.

Gulping what might be his final breath, the Denebian stepped through the doorway.

"Speak your business," Phaedra demanded. She still sat at the computer terminal, obsessively perusing whatever information the traitor had collected.

What is it that so captivates her, to leave us marooned in this jungle??

The messenger knew better than to voice his thoughts. "Empress, you have received a message."

The Denebian Empress turned around, fixing a skeptical stare at the peon. "Who even knows where we are?"

The messenger felt his throat close at the ruby glare of Phaedra. "Whenever a Denebian ship is destroyed, a beacon is automatically sent in all directions to alert anyone in the Empire. No doubt our signal was traced."

He bowed low, and set the round disk on the floor. "This is encoded, so it is meant for your eyes only. Good day, Empress."

He didn't wait to be dismissed. Given Phaedra's ill temper of late, another volcanic eruption could very well be in store.

Phaedra ignored the messenger's departure entirely. Instead, she rose to her feet, and approached the disk.

As soon as she came within three feet, a flash of light erupted from the center of the disk. The light stretched to a few inches shy of six feet, and wavered to create a shape.

The empress' eyes narrowed venomously. "Acheron..."

The man that took shape before her was about her own height, with broad shoulders only emphasized by the regal coat and thick cape. Deep green hair rested around his face, reaching his strong jaw. His face was as hard and impassive as stone, and his rich burgundy stare was filled with cold disregard.

Simply put, it was the same unflappable expression Phaedra always saw when she faced the only being in the Empire of higher station than her.

She knew it was a pre-recorded hologram. Edenia was light years too distant from anywhere in the Empire to receive a signal. That point gave the empress some comfort... she was in no mood to truly speak to her lord and husband.

Even though this was his first message to her in over a standard year, Lord Acheron had no warm greeting or words of concern to offer his wife. ^You've killed Mor'se.^

She gaped in open astonishment.

^You disappoint me, Phaedra. Not only did you not claim the Diadem, you managed to destroy a perfectly good warship, and you personally eliminated one of our finest scholars.^

She glared. "Damnable, traitorous spies," she seethed, her fists clenching, "When I find out who dares

to undermine me by reporting my every action to that self-important wind bag, I'll feed him to a pack of wolverines!"

^He tutored my father, myself, and my son.^

The empress snarled at the insinuation. "Our

son, Acheron... Daimon is our

son. And he is better off without Mor'se and his influence. Look how wonderful you

turned out."

^You will not kill another one of my subjects. And you will not carry out this mission unchaperoned.^

Phaedra's crimson eyes began to burn in outrage. What

did he just say??

^By the time you receive this message, Celea's ship will be approximately one standard day from Edenia. She will ferry you to Earth, and make sure you accomplish your objectives. The conquest of Fesp has been completed, and she has no other reason to stay there. Perhaps someone with royal

blood will find a way to defeat the humans that vex you so.^

Then, without bidding farewell, the image blinked out of existence... not that Phaedra even noticed. Instead, she stepped toward the disk, crushing the intricate machine with the sharp heel of her foot.

"Chaperon??" she repeated, her voice strained by the fierce anger smoldering within. "He sends my own daughter to chaperon me? Arrogant bastard

!!"

She was too far beyond angry to even think straight. Instead, she stared at her reflection through the shattered glass of Acheron's hologram device. And as she met her own raging glare, she couldn't help but wonder what kind of life she would have led had she married a man that actually gave a damn

about her.

To Be Continued In...

Streaks of Purple