Defender of the Empire 2: Facades (17 page)

“Shut up ses-Ky
pashat!
” one of their captors snarled. “You are the cowardly ones, running from the city!”

“Unlike your clan, I have no viable contract involving the city,” Talis’talklen said, shrugging carelessly.

“And
we
are not running from the city,” Jack added. “
We
have business here.”

“In the forests, pink skin? I don’t believe you,” the ses-KGor spokesman scoffed.

Jack shrugged this time, his gaze lazily flicking about the surrounding trees. “You don’t have to believe me,” he said. “Though I must admit to some curiosity,” he added, meeting the spokesman’s gaze, “haven’t you heard that it is dangerous to be uninvited in the forests here?”

As if his words were a signal, the forests erupted in shrill howls that made Talis’talklen’s ears ache. It reminded him of the racket below his group during their first night on Lenti. Only now he got to see it… sort of.

The ses-KGor didn’t have a chance to react before they were dragged backwards into the surrounding trees. Howls and growls and screams and the sounds of desperate fighting filled the air. Shadows moved in the darkness of the thick underbrush. Bright eyes, a mix of brown and amber, peeked through the leaves every once in a while.

Rylynn backed closer to Kifen’alusa. Her eyes were wide and searching as the chaos continued. Jack and Timothy didn’t move from their spots other than to lower their hands.

In moments the forests quieted. Then two shadows stepped out of the trees and became two L’uf men, standing in the sunlight filtering into the clearing. They wore forest-colored leather armor on their lithe bodies. One’s eyes were a liquid brown. The others were bright, pale blue. Both had long dual-colored hair. Brown Eyes hair was black tipped in warm brown. Blue Eyes had golden hair tipped in red.

“Pack brother, welcome back,” the darker colored L’uf greeted Jack. He glanced at Rylynn with a grim smile. “We knew the time must have come. The smell of Change was in the air.”

Chapter 20 – ‘Understandable’ vs. ‘Right’

              Saffa’tauta

             
“Do as you will,
” Talis’talklen had told him. Saffa’tauta understood why his
talklen
had told him that, but now he had to figure out what to do.
But what do you do in this situation?
he mused, watching the firefight between the single Hasta against so many enemies, all of which were the big guns of their fleets.

              And two had turned on one of their own.

              Saffa’tauta knew a coup when he saw one. But there was nothing of worth he and his crew could do for the doomed ship. And they didn’t even have a tie to it… and yet. Saffa’tauta sat back in the captain’s chair and closed his eyes for a moment.

              “Ideas, anyone?” he asked the bridge crew. They could see what he could. There was no payment that would make any risk worth it. They were mercenaries, after all. But they were warriors, too. “We can either witness for their song or we can attempt to aid them.” He stated the options so they knew what the choices were. They also knew what he did about the risks, should they join in.

              The bridge was silent for a long moment as the crew mulled over the choices before them. Saffa’tauta wondered which way they would go, because he didn’t know. It was a choice unlike any they had to make in a very long time. Eventually, Ai’alusa moved, drawing attention to himself. “There are those new weapons we haven’t gotten to use yet,” the warrior suggested, looking back at him.

A hunter’s smile slowly spread across each face on the bridge, and Saffa’tauta nodded. “Very well,” he said, and smiled too. Something clicked into place and he felt that it was right.

***

              Race

              “Shields at ten percent!”

              “Half the lasers are offline!”

              “Flights 1, 3, 10, 12, and 19 are down!”

More reports kept coming from all over the ship. All were of the ‘not good’ variety.

              “Commander! We can’t keep this up!” Evens declared what all of them knew. Commander Race Quinn felt a cold dread seep into his heart. The only way they had a chance of surviving, was to leave. But leaving would doom the colonists and the away team.
How does being dead save them?
a little voice whispered.

              “Have they attacked the planet?” Race asked. He wasn’t about to delude himself by thinking that the
Hail Mary
was enough of a threat to keep
four
warships completely busy. Yes, she put up a fight, but she was so outgunned at the moment that it was laughable. And the Zar’dakens hadn’t even deployed their darts yet.

              “No, commander,” Evans reported, sounding surprised. The surprise dimmed into helplessness a moment later. “Not yet, though they may not have to.” The helmsman looked back at Race and continued. “The Telmicks are attacking the prime cities.”

              Two separate attacks by three different factions could not be coincidence. The realization didn’t do any of them any good, unfortunately. They were still a solitary ship against four others, two of which should have been
helping
them.
But then, they never did say who they were aiding,
Race thought darkly.

              Everything was coming down around his ears, and in that chaotic moment time slowed down around him. The lights flickered, their pulse gradually slowing, the darkness grew ever longer. The klaxon began to sound less like a warning and more like a muffled death knell. Panic and hopelessness filled the faces of the crew looking to him for direction. Like he had the answers. He was just a man like them. Even so, what did they do? Did they leave their friends and the colonists to face the enemy alone, so they had the chance to live and fight another day? Or did they die now? Here? Pondering that made him realize that there was a difference between what was deemed ‘acceptable’ and what was ‘right’.

              A light touch on his shoulder caused Race to turn sharply. Somehow, despite the bucking of the ship, Rael had made her way to him. There was an accepting peace in her eyes as she spoke. “Whatever you choose, it will be the right choice. We will follow you.” Out of the corner of his eye he could see the others nod.

              Somewhat heartened by their support, Race nodded and turned forward again. Time returned to normal. It was the time to act, the time to decide.
Where is the Terrenza?
he wondered desperately, before starting to order a retreat. Before he could, however, a smaller ship popped out of a hyperspace gate and fired a missile at the
LFH Sol’s Memory
before darting back into hyperspace again.

              The missile stopped just outside the
Memory’s
shields. A second later, it exploded with a concussive force that caused the weakening shields of the
Hail Mary
to ripple. The
Sol’s Memory
did not fare as well. Her shields had been weakened by a few char missiles and could not withstand the blast right next to them. They flared brilliantly for a second before failing completely in that area. A resulting hull breach vented gasses and unlucky crewmembers into the dark cold of space.

              Race couldn’t honestly say that he felt bad for them. In fact, deep down, a part of him was viscerally glad that they didn’t remain unscathed by their betrayal. “Whatever we got, let’s use to take advantage of this. FIRE!”

              Lieutenant Milo was able to direct a few of the still-usable lasers at the chink in the
Memory’s
armor. The
Memory
jumped farther out. She still attacked, but she was licking her wound. Triumph filled the bridge of the
Hail Mary
for the first time. But only for a moment. The other three attackers became even more ruthless in their task of removing the
Hail Mary
from existence.

              The smaller ship appeared again, this time near one of the Zar’daken vessels. Another blast went off, punching a hole in the enemy’s shield and hull. The surviving flights of LFGs took advantage and went to work like a school of starving piranha.

              And then the Zar’daken darts made their appearance.

              Things were getting worse and worse, but now, with the help of the mysterious little ship, they were fighting back. The little bomb dropper would appear, leave its present of choice, and jump away again. The bomb would go off, smashing a hole in the nearby shields and the
Hail Mary
and her LFGs would take advantage. They could fight.
But for how long?
Race wondered as the shields went down to five percent.

Chapter 21 – Poisoned Heart

              Rylynn

              The two L’uf who had come forward in the clearing had since introduced themselves. Fydo was the brown eyed one. His companion was known as Dukio. They moved soundlessly as they guided us through the forest. As we trudged along, I heard Fydo tell Jack that we were almost to our destination. That was news, I might add, that I was rather glad of.

              “Really? I thought we were going to the Den,” Jack asked surprised.

              “No, Pack brother. We have no need to go to the Den.”

              “Then where are we going?”

              Fydo glanced back at me. “She needs to hear the Truth, no? That is why you came. The Den is not needed for the Truth. The Story Keeper is needed for the Truth.”

              “I guess we
won’t
be playing a game of drad’age,” Timothy murmured to me.

              “That’s funny. I thought we were already playing,” I replied, using his earlier words against him.

              “Drad’age!” he said throwing his hands up, a wry grin on his lips.

              “Ha!” I couldn’t help playfully tilting my nose into the air.

              “Hey now! Nobody likes an insufferably smug winner,” he groused, though his green eyes sparkled merrily.

              I raised an eyebrow at him. “And they especially don’t like a sore loser.”

              He snorted. “Just you wait until we play a
real
game,” he muttered.

Personally, I was looking forward to it.

              Soon we came to a large tree surrounded by leaf litter, with a small creek running nearby. Looking at the tree, I doubted our little group could wrap ourselves around it. We’d need ten more people. And by ‘people’ I mean ‘Telmicks’. They have a longer reach. Our guides raised a hand to stop us. Puzzled, I looked around before noticing that both L’uf were gazing respectfully at the tree.

Dukio stepped forward and bowed. “Great Story Keeper, Wise One, we bring to you those who wish to hear the Truth of our world,” Dukio said in a ceremonial cadence. A silent moment passed before a large section of bark at the base of the tree between two gargantuan roots peeled away from the rest. It was a door, I realized. One large enough that the Telmicks could enter without stooping or squeezing in sideways.

A little girl, made miniscule by the doorway’s sheer size, stood there looking at us. Her hair was much longer than that on either of our guides, despite the fact that she was half their age. She wore it braided with little white flowers, against her silver-tipped black hair. She was dressed in a simple gray robe. Her silver eyes regarded us for a moment, then she tilted her head, as though listening to someone behind her. She reddened slightly before inclining her head. “Forgive me. I could not help but…” she trailed off, glancing at me before hurriedly looking away. I touched my hair, wondering if it looked half as bad as I feared it did. It hadn’t seen a comb or cleanser for some time. Glancing down at my uniform, I had to admit that it didn’t look good either. The girl continued. “My name is Lazia. Please, be welcome in the home of the Story Keeper,” she said, sweeping her arm in a graceful gesture to invite us in.

Thus invited, we entered the front hall of the tree home. I admit it—I was probably gawking. No matter how long I stared at the cleverly carved elegance of my surroundings, my brain couldn’t rationalize
how
the inside of a tree, any tree, could be so large. The front hall should have been unbearably crowded. But it wasn’t. Even with Talis and Kifen taking their share, it was comfortably cozy.

“This way,” Lazia said, climbing up a ladder carved into the wall that I hadn’t noticed before. I had figured that the column of slots were empty bookshelves. Dukio gestured that I should follow Lazia, so I did. Behind me climbed Jack, then the others in whatever order they decided on. We climbed up through a kitchen, complete with an oven and sink. If I didn’t know we were in an actual living tree I would have thought that we had climbed up into a cabin. A cabin that smelled
amazing
. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t had a decent meal for far too long.

Above the kitchen was a comfortable sitting room, with carved chairs padded in bright cloth cushions. There were windows that looked out through the thick lower branches of the great tree. Around the windows were bookcases lined with tomes and scrolls. It was in this room that Lazia stepped away from the ladder. “Please be seated,” she said, as the rest entered the room. “The Story Keeper will be with you shortly. In the meantime, I will get you food and drink.” And with that young Lazia sprang back onto the ladder and disappeared into the floor.

“It has been some time since I have seen sweet Lazia so nervous,” Fydo chuckled, as he sat on one of the chairs.

“Your pup did seem a little nervous. She hasn’t been here long, has she?” Jack asked.

“Wait, Lazia is your daughter?” I asked. I had assumed that they didn’t know each other, since neither had acknowledged the other.

Fydo nodded. “The youngest of five,” he said proudly. Turning to Jack, he answered, “She’s been here a month now. It is good to see her in the place she always dreamed of going. Lazia loves stories and learning. She also likes her new place in Pack,” he said with a pleased wink.

Soon, Lazia returned with a basket looped over her arm. She set it on the table and quickly passed out pastries filled with meat and vegetables. After a couple of testing nibbles, I scarfed it down. It was delicious and that wasn’t just my hunger talking. Thankfully, Lazia had a few more of the delicious pastries, and told us that there were even more in the basket. I think Kifen and I had a field day after that.

In the meantime, Lazia went over to a cupboard door that proved itself to be a dumbwaiter. Using the pulley ropes, she brought up a pitcher and mugs. She handed us the mugs before pouring a refreshing berry juice. After finishing my drink, I peered at the mug. It had been made out of a reddish clay. Black glaze had been used to make a geometric floral design.

Looking up, I realized that we were no longer alone. A very old L’uf woman sat with us. Time had etched its lines in her face around her eyes. Her hands had the stretched look that came from living for many decades. Her skin was loose and hung limply to her bones. Despite her obvious age, I figured this woman had been very beautiful in her youth, and strong-willed if the brightness of her spirit shining through her eyes was anything thing to go by. Her hair was white with golden tips. I had the feeling it had always been like that.

Before you think I was rude for just staring at her, I would like you to know that the staring was mutual. As I studied her, she studied me.

“Story Keeper,” Dukio said, noticing that she was there. Surprise was on everyone’s faces at having been so distracted by the food that they had missed the entrance of the old L’uf. It was kind of funny.

The Story Keeper spoke to Lazia, who in turn spoke to us. “The Story Keeper asks for your forgiveness for startling you and to not be worried. She is not offended. You were all very hungry.” The old woman smiled before turning to me. She spoke again, and the language she used was an interesting mix of guttural and lyrical. A moment later, Lazia continued speaking. “The Story Keeper asks if you are refreshed enough to hear the story you have come to hear?”

“I am,” I answered, looking at the Story Keeper. She smiled. And I realized that Lazia didn’t translate for the Story Keeper. “Though, before you do, I’m curious why are you translating for us, Lazia?” Lazia reddened and I quickly added, “I hope I didn’t offend.”

“Honest questions do not offend,” the Story Keeper said, her smile becoming a grin. “I do not just keep stories here, or just train young pups to remember them. I also teach the pups to be fluent in any language we come across. Your visit is an opportunity for Lazia to become more proficient in thinking in both our language and yours.”

“Oh. Thank you for explaining,” I said, gesturing for them to continue as if I hadn’t asked.

The Story Keeper inclined her head gracefully before beginning in her language. Lazia didn’t immediately translate, as she was still nervously looking around. The Story Keeper hummed and the young girl remembered what she was supposed to be doing. “Um…” she frowned, having no idea what had been said while she was busy worrying.

“Lazia,” I said softly and she glanced at me, biting her lip, “You got this. For not starting out with our language, you are very fluent in it. I think you speak it better than some of us.” I smiled at her and Lazia relaxed somewhat. “Just try again,” I encouraged. Lazia nodded and turned to the Story Keeper with her head held high.

The Story Keeper nodded her head in thanks to me before speaking again. This time Lazia spoke right with her. The blend of their voices, young and wise, and the two languages became hypnotic. I wouldn’t forget this any time soon.

“Long before the Spectral Empire found this world, we L’uf have hunted its forests. There were more of us, then. We live much like we did, though in smaller groups now. Never did we dare to see all like the diamonds in the heavens did. To see all was too great for us. We were content to run through the forests and paw through the leaves. We had what we needed and wanted no more than that.

“In those days lived Rexio, the Great Hunter. This is the re-telling of his greatest fear. One day, still many, many moons before the Empire claimed our home for their own,
another
came.

“He was similar to us, and yet he did not smell like L’uf. He did not tread quietly on the ground. It was often wondered by our people how he intended to eat since all the game fled from him. It was also assumed that he would attract the dreaded Flying Teeth with all the noise he made.

“But nothing behaved as it should have around him. Predators fled from him as well, as if they were escaping from a larger hunter. The stranger was watched, and our questions were answered. He did not eat nor did he appear to need to sleep. He walked our world till he found the cave of the Flying Teeth. What happened was not witnessed, but no Flying Teeth were seen again.

“The stranger was gone as well. It was assumed that the Flying Teeth had killed him in the end.” The Story Keeper paused a moment before continuing. “In the days following his disappearance, the earth would tremble. At first the elders thought that an earthquake was imminent, and many packs began to leave the area. But the whole
world
would tremble and there was nowhere to go.

“Curious to know where the trembling came from, bold Rexio ventured near the old Den. He could see a light at night, and he followed it. All the way to the Flying Teeth’s cave. The light came from within. It was a reddish color, like the coals of a fire. Heated air billowed out from the depths. And there were words in that wind. Chanting that put dread into Rexio’s heart.

“Many nights later, three newcomers came to the cave; a woman and two men. They entered the cave without hesitation. The chanting had stopped by this time, and the light was more natural. Rexio followed them in. He discovered that the once-shallow cave delved down into the world. The passage seemed to go on forever. Rexio described the walls as having been carved roughly, but then smoothed slightly.

“The three before him disappeared into the chamber at the bottom. Rexio could not follow without being detected. And so, he waited outside. He heard them talking to another. The talking stopped abruptly and he could smell fear pour from the chamber. Then, the metallic scent of blood accompanied by a feeling of wrongness made Rexio, to his shame, run from the chamber. The three had been betrayed and he did not want to have anything more to do with the strange goings-on. His boldness had deserted him.

“But that turned out to be a good thing, for after he had fled the cave a black mist had descended around it. Rexio could not help but watch from a distance as nearby plants withered and died. The black mist then slunk into the cave. He did not hear or smell anything after that. Nor did he wish to enter the cave again. But he
knew
that something evil had happened.

“Despite the need to leave the cursed place, Rexio couldn’t. There was something else that he needed to see. Was waiting to see. Though what that was, he did not know. Eventually, long after he was stiff from being still for so long, the stranger stepped from the cave. Satisfaction dripped from the man. His dark deed was done and he was satisfied. Shortly after, he left, never to be seen again.”

In the silence after the story, Jack leaned forward, his arms resting on his thighs. “That man, the stranger?
He
and the black mist are our enemy.”

“But who is the man and what is the mist?” I asked.

“The mist is the Soul Shadows. As to the man, I don’t really know. Whoever he was, he had found a way to trap the Soul Shadows deep below Lenti’s surface.”

“The heart of this world is poisoned,” the Story Keeper said.

I wasn’t sure what to do with all of this. The Soul Shadows were trapped? But then how could they have been involved with my parent’s ambush? Unless not all of them were imprisoned? My head gave a warning throb. “Why did I need to hear this?” I asked Jack.