For the Heir

[Aram Kalast]

Thearterra
Chiss Space

“It is time.” Mitth’uaman’uruodo had waited many years to say these words, in fact his father’s father had wished them said as well as had his father before him and again. In fact for eight hundred years his ancestors had held true to their post, each messenger passing their task onto the first born son of their line, the name Thuraman going with them through the ages. Yet for this Thuraman, the knowledge he would be the last in his line was a thrill meant for him alone. He was the chosen one, the decided to finalise their task and consider their debt paid.

“Are you sure?” Another requested of him, a weathered old man of a Chiss who sat opposite Thuraman upon the table of guardian’s whom had all been defended from those who originally built and laid down their oaths to this palace of hope. “For generations we have guarded him, why is it now that he should be awakened?” There was fear in his voice, a quivering ache that resounded with confusion and excitement.

“The signs have aligned, reality itself was torn apart and an Empire holds the galaxy within it’s clutches.” Thuraman leant back in his chair, his outfit stretching as he did so which was typical of the Imperial uniform his position warranted. In fact all at the table wore the same dark grey, marks of their honour and their oaths to he who slept. “He must be awaken now or he might as well sleep forever.”

A murmur of collective agreement spread through the chamber as Chiss and several humans all nodded or disagreed at the claim. In the end they had no say, it was Thuraman’s decision alone but it was considered polite to allow them to feel involved.

“So it is decided?” Thuraman asked simply bringing the whispered talking to a halt. “We are to awaken Kalast tonight and bring him back into our galaxy?” There were no objections. “Very well, prepare for initiative twelve and prepare the ships, we are departing this complex tonight.” He stood and waited to allow all to follow suite. His left hand was lowered to the table were a glass was sat, he had not yet touched the liquid with nor had anyone at the table.

It was raised and a smile crossed his lips. “For the Heir.”

“For the Heir.”

 

[Aram Kalast]

“Prepare for Statis disengage.” Thuraman was stood, not at the forefront of the control room like would be expected but rather several levels down in a corridor currently blocked off by a huge blast door.
“Statis disengaged.” The answer returned through the comm-link held within the Chiss’ hand.
“Disengage blast-seals.”
A loud hiss erupted through the room as the seals on doors were unlocked, hundreds of years of waiting giving them little in return as the ancient gears turned and twisted allowing the blast doors to slowly slid open to reveal a bright white light upon the otherside.
“With me.” Thuraman ordered to the several other Chiss that stood around him, each edging forward into the room with nervous yet excited looks on their faces.

It was time to meet him, at last.

“What year is it.” The voice was calm, collected and above all else seemed to carry a sense of command.
“My lord you have been in statis for-” Thuraman went to say as the shape of a well build man started to form through the blinding light before him.
“I asked what the year is.” Aram Kalast appeared before them, his Imperial uniform as intact as the day he had been sealed in the statis chamber eight centuries ago. “I will not ask again.”
“Eight Fifty, my lord, eight-fifty ABY.” The Chiss commander stuttered, hearing Kalast’s voice had a resounding effect that he could’t particularly say he liked.
“Eight hundred years.” Kalast paused as he walked through the group of Chiss towards the open blast doors. “Longer than I had anticipated. Yet not to be un-expected. You are in charge?”
Thuraman fell into line alongside Aram, his face sweating slightly. “Yes Lord Kalast, I am Thuraman, like my father and all their fathers.”
Aram paused and looked at the Chiss. “Oh how quaint. You seemed to have made a little religion out of it. Fascinating.”
“Pardon My Lord?” Thuraman was starting to feel very confused about this apparent saviour of the Empire.
“Just an observation.” He proceeded to continue his march down the hallway towards the main turbo lift. “Now I assume you have the shuttle prepared for launch?”
“Yes.”
“Pilots are already on deck?” Aram entered the turbo-lift alone.
“Yes.”
“Excellent.” Then the doors closed sealing Thuraman and his men within the corridor.

ONE HOUR LATER

“What now?” Thuraman was as confused as the rest of the men, since Kalast had gotten into the elevator the door had remained sealed and an easy hour had passed. “Are the communication channels working yet?”
“Negative sir, they seem to have been disabled.” One of his officers spoke in slight panic.
“Why would they have been disabled…” He knew why they had been disabled, all along he had thought he was doing the right thing. Yet now at the end did he truly begin to understand.

An hour outside of Thearterra's orbit.

“Sir the station has completed it’s self-destruct sequence.” The pilot of the ageing Lambda shuttle spoke with clear cut authority. “Reports indicate complete destruction with an area effect of three miles.”
“Very good Commander.” Aram smiled, the people aboard the station had done their part, their deaths were un-necessary, but it did feel good to assure their had been no witnesses. “We have our course?”
“To Coruscant my lord?” The commander questioned.
“Yes…to Coruscant.”

Finally…he would set foot on hallowed soil…finally he would return.