The War of Civlar Read online

CHAPTER 2 - THE CITADEL

  While Civlarian society was not aware of the new mechanism, neither were the Aesuthites.

  The scene opens in a garden oasis. Uniform buildings litter the skyline and symmetry can be observed in all aspects of the architecture. Calm music permeates the atmosphere, dispensed by discreetly hidden loudspeakers in a network capable of covering the entire Realm. While the land is mostly flat, there is a small area of high ground from which emerges an intricate and magnificent spire. This is the capital city of the Realm; dubbed the Citadel by Aesuthites and Civlarians alike.

  “Her tracking signal ends here. May Aesuth protect her!”

  The man settles a piece of paper on an ornate desk, encrusted with precious stones arranged into religious symbols of ascending significance. The man sitting behind the desk is dressed piously, nodding his thanks.

  As the lieutenant leaves, he hesitates. Although protocol discourages further communications with such a high ranking priest, he is on this occasion overcome by some concern.

  “She's going to be alright, isn't she?” the lieutenant asks softly.

  The priest is taken aback, but after studying for some small time the sincerity in the lieutenant’s countenance he utters his doctrine approved answer: “Yes”.

  The lieutenant leaves satisfied.

  High Priest Phillips is highly cognizant of that the fact that XYZ-21 is of grave significance to the plight of his civilization. Under normal circumstances, the Citadel and indeed the Realm would have been a peaceful and tranquil place – and indeed perfect. Today however, tranquility was extremely hard to come by – he was faced with an extremely dangerous situation. His daughter's discovery had elevated him above his caste, an honor that is rarely endowed upon an Aesuthite citizen. In reality, the encryption algorithm would much likely dictate the fate of the war. The unfortunate fact was that after 100 years of conflict, Blaspemoth (which was the commonly used derogatory term for Civlar) and his beloved Realm were still at loggerheads. While the population of the Realm swelled, devoid of the inhuman robotic workers that propped up the Civlarian economy, they were only able to match the capacity of the Civlarian air force and while a land army would certainly overwhelm their feeble population, there was no way for such an army to penetrate the respective Domes of their civilizations.

  Normally not a deceitful man, the Priest (being of military role) began to mull over in his mind the outcomes and scenarios pertinent to his problem.

  To rescue his daughter would require Special Forces involvement. While it was well established that smuggling suicide bombers into the Blaspemoth was possible, he was fully aware also, that should such forces be detected and captured, the importance of her status and understandings would become known to the enemy. Additionally, the idea of suicide bombers is that they are expendable. While ten get captured, one gets through. The very concept that highly skilled Special Forces personnel would be used such a way would immediately provoke the attention of the highest ranks in the Blaspemoth.

  The satellite implant trace had been deactivated on the 7th sector, known traditionally as the location of the prisons. A simple technical engineer would certainly be kept there without any special considerations so he considered that the Special Forces option was not futile.

  He recoiled at his selfishness! He knew also the other option, one which has an absolute chance of success – but rendered his daughter to an equally absolute fate: death.

  If he were to try and rescue his daughter, a backup plan was necessary. If the Special Forces were detected, the prison sector would need to be nuked immediately – at a minimum it would take three and at a maximum seven. This was half the nuclear arsenal. Indeed, the prison sector would be loosely guarded against such an attack, since they would not consider that their enemy would regretfully mass murder their own prisoners of war.

  The third option was to destroy the ground target with laser bombing, but this would need to divert so many of their aircraft to that prospective goal the ongoing air war would suffer immensely, leaving his blessed homeland open to an attack that could also destroy the very seat that he was now sitting upon, should the opportunistic heathens see that chance.

  Aesuth had provided him, through XYZ-21, dubbed “the Divine Algorithm”, with the very means of ending the war for good and yet had now, through the capture of his daughter, seemingly undermined that very blessing.

  “He tests us...” he thought, “or perhaps, me.”

  Phillips knew that the High Order would not accept the Special Forces option. It was a risk, whereas Vengeance (the nuclear option) was a certainty. After all, devotion was most holy, yet without pragmatism they would perish.

  Overwhelmed by the love of his own daughter, he had now conspired to lie to the High Order about this situation he was aware of.

  He would give them a fictitious reason for entering the Blaspemoth, and once inside he would order them to rescue his daughter. If they were detected however, he would simply confess to the situation. He would be executed for treason, but Vengeance would be mobilized.