The Spectrum Force Volume Three by Heather Ray (motivational books for men .TXT) 📖

options of a race that thrived on darkness. However, the Empire must have learned of his presence... or else they wouldn't have persisted so diligently.

"I'm running out of time," he realized, his mouth going dry. This was the moment of truth. He reached for his belt, pulling out a small sphere of smooth silver. He gripped it tightly, snapping his gaze to the empty fireplace.

Exhaling slowly, he dropped the sphere to the ground. It exploded into a fine dust of chalk white, flooding the small room with an eerie cloud of faintly glittering energy. Then, the mighty Gaius fell to his knees before the pedestal, touching his forehead to its ornate base.

He held his breath as footsteps became audible from the halls.
Chapter Eight

Spectra gingerly moved about the small white space, her form-fitting uniform and flowing ivory hair making her body almost imperceptible against the gleaming white walls.

She flipped in the air, planting her feet against the ceiling and launching herself toward another wall. She somersaulted, her feet reaching out just in time to catch herself, and leapt toward the opposite wall.

Again and again she sailed through the air of the white box, each time crouching against the wall just to launch herself once again.

Finally, she allowed herself to fall, her hair drifting behind her as she crouched on the floor. Sweat glistened on her face, now flushed faintly pink with the exertion.

She breathed deeply, carefully stretching her arms, legs, and back. She grimaced when she aggravated a sore spot.

It was hard to believe the fight with the Phlegnin had taken so much out of her. True, the creature had nailed her with what easily could have been a fatal blast, and then forced her to use her magical power strenuously when she coaxed the beast out of the subterranean tunnels to the surface for the final battle.

Also, with all the training she had arrange, just to insure the Spectrum Force would be better equipped for the next strike, she had painfully little time to recuperate. In fact, she had opted to use the hover-chair, a mechanical device created by the Fespin, in order to conserve her own energies and allow her body to heal.

She would continue the routine until she was completely healed. Her nights were spent sleeping in the bed in the medical ward, the faint healing beam set on low to keep its power sources maximized in case any of the Force were wounded in training or battle. The early morning was devoted to the Force's training, while conserving her own power by using the hover-chair. Immediately afterward she spent as much time as she could bear working out in the compact makeshift exercise room on the ship, making sure to keep her muscles loose in case she was forced to fight. Once fatigued, she invested the rest of the day studying Earth's history and records, in order to determine if there were any indigenous resources that would prove helpful against the Denebians.

One such resource needing her study was a diligent practice of the English language. While the headset she had acquired from Phaedra's soldier was infinitely useful in translating the alien language for her, it was highly possible that the machine would eventually be damaged or inaccessible. And relying on the Force's limited telepathy could prove fatal, for their telepathy only worked in their transformed state.

Spectra wasn't one to take chances. Communication between herself and her team was vital to their very survival. She would force herself to learn the puzzling native language, and eventually she would coax the Force to study Denebian. Once the physical training became less demanding, the speech training would begin in earnest.

Spectra eased herself toward the bathing room, when suddenly a chalky white dust flooded her vision. She gasped, her knees buckling as her mind was swept to another place, light years away.

Chapter Nine

Gaius didn't struggle as two imperial soldiers held him to his knees. One grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking it back to incline the rebel's gaze.

His eyes glinted with the surprise the empress could feel burn just beneath the surface.

"Good evening, Lord Gaius," she purred, a smirk of reserved glee on her lips, "Surprised to see me?"

Gaius stared at the familiar visage of the mighty empress, meeting her almost hungry appraisal with no fear. "I am not a Denebian Lord, Phaedra," he affirmed.

One of the soldiers snarled, striking the back of Gaius' neck with his powerful energy rifle. "You will never

address Her Majesty so familiarly, Traitor!"

Phaedra sighed, waving her hand absently. The offending soldier released a scream of burning anguish as his flesh melted off his bones.

The other soldier backed away, horrified.

"Leave us, Warrior," she demanded coolly, "I do not need your assistance."

The soldier needed no more prodding. He bowed low to the empress, saluted, and strode out of the chamber as quickly as possible without breaking into a run.

"Why did you kill him?" Gaius asked, his piercing gaze never leaving her, "He struck me for my impudence. He was justified."

Phaedra's amused smirk returned. "Are you still

trying to be my conscience, Lord Gaius? I haven't laid eyes upon you for over a century, and since then I have killed billions of innocents, often merely on a whim. Am I not beyond redemption?"

Gaius' gaze remained steady, as if he could look deep into her very soul. "I am not the Judge."

Phaedra released a mocking chuckle. "Really? And have you found the Judge yet? Poor little Warrior-Priest, searching for higher meaning within chaos. Which god do you serve now?"

She folded her arms, striding toward him. Her skirts slid across the smooth ground as she approached the pedestal just a few feet from her prisoner. Sharp fingernails traced the shape of the perfect pyramid, about a foot high, black as pitch and glistening with silver energy twinkling within like stars.

She pulled the object off the marble, cradling it with both hands. "So, this is your god now. And you think you've found the Midjinari, don't you?"

She shook her head, a small smile on her lips. "The tireless crusade has finally ended. You've found something to dedicate yourself to." Her gaze slid toward him again. "Though, I thought you were too rational to blindly put faith in some silly ancient legend."

Gaius remained on his knees, noting the faint chalky cloud waft into nothingness. "I never lacked a purpose. I have always had a truth to fight for... and an enemy to fight against."

Phaedra's eyes narrowed, continuing to gaze into his in a stubborn battle of will. She then smiled gently, gliding toward him.

"Not always," she whispered, stroking his cheek with a feather-light touch, "Lord Gaius."

To the empress' frustration, the man made no reaction whatsoever to her caress. "I have seen the Light, Empress," he stated coldly, "Long

ago."

Her fingers tensed. What was a gentle caress instantly became slow torture as she dug her nails into Gaius' cheek, drawing rivulets of thick blood.

He winced at the sudden pain, but his penetrating gaze never left hers.

Phaedra smirked triumphantly, delicately licking the blood that had trickled onto her fingers. "We'll see."

Chapter Ten

Spectra inhaled an unsteady breath as the chalky white faded. She leaned heavily against the nearest wall, shaking with frightful cold as consciousness merged with body once again.

"Gaius..." she exhaled weakly.

She hugged her body tightly to ward off the cold that had settled within. Through the magical mind-link Gaius had created, she could feel his every sensation.

The panicked thoughts of the Midjinari that flooded his mind. The shock that froze his soul when he laid eyes on the empress. The burning her icy touch had ignited in his heart. And interestingly, the smugness he felt when Phaedra triumphantly carried the black pyramid away from the podium.

There was only one conclusion to be reached: the pyramid wasn't the true Diadem.

That meant the Denebians hadn't yet procured the fabled power of an enclosed universe. But… how long until Phaedra realized the truth? However irrational the empress might be, she was no fool.

Spectra's eyes narrowed.

Chapter Eleven

"I can't believe this," Tamara groaned, absently toying with the tip of her braid as she gazed at the pages before her, "We get to put on one

Shakespeare play, and it's some crummy melodrama."

Chris glanced at her, a mischievous glint in his gray eyes. "Tammy, 'A Winter's Tale' isn't a melodrama. It's a romance." He stood up, puffing his chest and holding his head high. "It's a tale of adventure!" he declared, unsheathing an imaginary sword.