The shuttle of the Sumer flagship was simple to operate. Like most Sumerian technology, it responded to touch screens and voice commands. The interior was designed to comfortably accommodate ten people. Under different circumstances, Alessandro might have appreciated the ride. But not now, not with the stench of blood lingering in the air. Fatigue and dizziness weighed on him, the adrenaline and stress finally catching up.

  He focused all his energy on the dark fumes, expanding the shield as far as he could. There was no time to pause, no room for hesitation. The fumes spread outward like a sheer, dark flying carpet, growing rapidly, covering an area nearly as large as the city itself. As S-152 connected with the flagship, the eyes of the Ars Pherians taking shelter on the hills saw the stars and distant moons of their world vanish, swallowed by a tulle curtain of darkness, obscured behind the shadows of the night.

  On the other side of the dark fume wall, Alessandro could still see the Sumer ships accelerating upward, gaining altitude. Then, in an instant, the flagship suddenly began to plummet. The shuttle and the city were in its path, and the collision would happen in mere seconds. Alessandro couldn’t predict what would happen when the massive ship hit the fume shield. Would it explode on impact? Could the shield tear under the force? He didn’t know the full extent of the fumes' power, but there was no time left for doubt. All he could do was trust it now.

  If the young Emperor had time to analyze his thoughts and emotions in the thirty seconds it took to save the massive spaceship from crashing into the city, an event that could destroy not only the city but potentially a large portion of his planet due to the explosive aftermath, he would simply call it impulse. That impulse, in those brief but critical moments, encapsulated everything about him: his past, his mind, his heart, and the dark fume that had become a part of him.

  Without thinking, driven by instinct, he opened the shuttle door and raised his arms. A pitch-dark fume poured from his hands, swirling and expanding with terrifying force. The fumes wrapped around the flagship, halting its descent, holding it steady in midair, balancing it at an altitude of around thirty thousand feet, right above the shuttle.

  Alessandro maintained the fume shield for thirty agonizing seconds, focusing every ounce of his energy as General Urla accessed the flagship’s controls. The seconds stretched on, each one heavier than the last, until at last, the flagship regained power, its engines humming back to life.

  Alessandro barely had time to close the shuttle door before collapsing to the floor, the dried blood of the fallen Sumer soldiers still staining the deck. He closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the weight of it all. His mind quieted as he let himself slip into a place of darkness, a place of strange comfort and serenity.

  Queen Nammu and General Urla began operating the flagship, mostly relying on autopilot in the absence of a crew. They managed to land the flagship and S-152, which was still attached beneath it, safely on the shores of the Ars Pherian Ocean. The other two Sumer ships had nearly exited the Ars Pherian atmosphere when General Urla finally regained control of their navigation through the flagship. He halted both Ziggurat ships at the thinnest layer of the atmosphere, disabling all their weapons.

  With a loud sigh of relief, he looked at Queen Nammu, who was focused on the emperor's shuttle, slowly descending back to the hill where it had landed earlier. She requested a communication with the shuttle, but no one answered.

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  “Incoming communication from S-154,” General Urla announced, awaiting Queen Nammu's approval to accept. When she nodded, he accepted the call.

  On the other end was Princess An.

  “Queen Nammu,” the princess’s voice trembled, “I am being held hostage. Please, you must surrender. The Ziggurat will end my life in three hours if you do not submit the flagship to their control.”

  “If the Ziggurat do not send Princess An to the flagship in a shuttle within ten minutes, the flagship will target S-144 and destroy it along with all its crew,” Queen Nammu countered coldly, without hesitation. “Your ten minutes start now.”

  She ended the communication and turned to General Urla.

  “General, can we move S-144 out of the Ars Pherian atmosphere? The Emperor said he doesn’t want anyone to die on his planet.”

  As the General changed the position of S-144 further from the Ars Pherian atmosphere, Queen Nammu watched the Emperor’s shuttle descend, nearing the surface of Ars Pheria. She wondered why he hadn’t responded to the communication, but there was no time for speculation. She had her own fight to focus on.

  At the ninth minute, she ordered General Urla to prepare the missiles, ready to target S-144. After a tense ten seconds, confirmation came: Princess An was in the shuttle, departing from S-154 and heading toward the flagship.

  The shuttle was halfway down when the Priestess on the other end of the line boldly threatened Queen Nammu, claiming that with a single press of a button, the shuttle of Princess An would be blown out of the sky unless the flagship released S-144 and S-154 immediately.

  “I don’t believe you,” Queen Nammu replied coldly. “We can send both your ships to the depths of space if my daughter isn’t safely on board. And you know that.”

  “Will you not destroy us anyway, my Queen?” the Priestess retorted. “What more do we have left to lose? You have one minute to release both ships.”

  “Release the ships!” Queen Nammu ordered. “They won’t get far. We’ll take them once we have the liquid gold.”

  There was little left for Queen Nammu and General Urla to do but wait for the shuttle’s safe arrival after releasing the Sumer ships. Neither of them blinked, eyes fixed on the empty space, until Princess An finally appeared aboard the flagship. When she did, mother and daughter embraced, crying together for several minutes, overwhelmed by the intensity of their reunion. Meanwhile, General Urla discovered the remaining crew of the flagship locked away in the cargo hold. They had been harshly treated, gagged, and left with their hands bound.

  Queen Nammu's first encounter with the Ziggurat had been a victory, but her revolt was far from complete. The Ziggurat remained unaware of the liquid gold, and they had assumed the flagship would be stranded on Ars Pheria, either until they returned to claim it or perhaps forever.

  As the sun began to rise over Ars Pheria, a new wave of worry crept over Queen Nammu. Her thoughts turned to the young Emperor, the one to whom she owed her life.

  I, the loyal Ghull of the Asaha, once met a shah.

  A shah with such might that he misjudged a knight.

  A knight who would fight in the darkness of the night.

  At such night when the clouds shadowed the moonlight,

  Cried the queen in delight, “Checkmate!”

  The Ziggurat was none of my concern. In fact, I found the Ziggurat priestesses quite entertaining. Nevertheless, I was not surprised to see the ambition and sometimes the temptation of a Sumer Queen to cause trouble. Life of a creature of mud requires motion to create emotion. Wherever this motion may stem from is none of my concern. In fact, I find troubles of life quite entertaining…