Spacer Clans Adventure 3: Naero's Fury (25 page)

BOOK: Spacer Clans Adventure 3: Naero's Fury
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Naero cautiously opened her end of the mindlink. I am Naero Amashin Maeris
, of Spacer Clan Maeris. Who are you?”

The tiny creature bobbed in front of her face.

Womi, of the Kahn-Dar. Have you come to kill me?

I will if you force me to
, but I don’t have any great desire to do so. I do not kill without reason. Don’t give me a reason, and we can talk.

Very well, Spacer Naero. We can speak before I perish. I wish I had never listened to the others. I wish I had never come to this
terrible place. Now my life is forfeit. The others promised us all a great Cosmic feast of powerful energies, and all we found here instead was death.

Why are you dying, Womi? Is there anything we can do to help you? And why should we, since you came here to attack and kill us?

All good questions. I know all you see in me is an enemy, yet many of my race only wish to live fierce and free. Bestow upon me enough Cosmic energy to sustain my life, such as it is, and I will speak plainly of what I know.

Naero startapped and fed the tiny, flickering wyrm a small amount of energy. It glowed brighter, but did not change size. And it did not flicker as much.

There, Womi. Is that enough?

The creature sighed.
Yes, for now. Thank you. Enough to stave off death, at least. You are fearful beings indeed, if you can sip from the power Cosmic so readily. We were not told the truth about you all by half, and for our folly, we have paid a heavy price. We should have learned that we could never again trust the others, especially when they promised us an easy triumph over your kind. Are all of your people as mighty as you?

Oh, heavens, no. Lot’s of my people are much stronger than I am. Like the guy with that sword, for example. In fact, I’m considered somewhat below average, a weakling, really.

Womi glared at her with an uncertain look.
A weakling, eh? Well, I suppose it matters not. Perhaps the others betrayed us completely and sent us here to be slaughtered. Curse them. What is there that I can tell one such as yourself, Naero?

Who sent you to attack us, and why? Tell me what you know, and I will do my best to see that you live. You can even go back to your own dimension if you wish. I will not stop you.

If only I could. And if I did so, others of my kind would quickly sense my condition and rush in to finish me. I would be an easy conquest for them, and my power would quickly become part of another.

Naero had almost forgotten about the Kahn-Dar being cannibalistic, attacking and feeding on others of their own kind.
She had seen it.

What is wrong with you, Womi? How are you injured
? Can you be healed?

I cannot say.
I may be able to be regenerated somehow, but not healed. I was struck very hard during the battle in the neck, close to the head. Now only my head can move and function. I cannot feel my body, and it hangs useless below me. It will not respond. Can you not tell that?

Naero looked
, trying to study him with her sight. Womi was so small, and so very odd, it was difficult to tell what was natural for his kind. But now that she studied him carefully, his body and limbs did in fact, droop slack and lifeless beneath his head.

We can look into improving your condition,
Womi, but right now I want an explanation as to why your people attacked us.

Many of us served the Dark Ones long ago, but we
no longer desire any master but ourselves. Now the others, former servants such as ourselves, are striving to become a power in their own right. The Kahn-Dar only seek the chance to feed on concentrated sources of the power Cosmic, and to grow stronger and live free. The others deceived us completely, as they always have. My race is still tainted by the Darkforce, and susceptible to its allure. We crave power far too much and can be easily tempted by it.

Who are these others, and how have they
deceived you into attacking us?

They said it would be easy–mere hatchling’s play for our greater powers. Yet so many of us died. You were all very much capable of defending yourselves
and shutting down our gateways. Not weaklings and fools at all, like they said you would be. And that devil of yours with his devil’s sword! We were clearly no match for such fury. The others did not warn us about that threat at all, curse them!

What others?
Speak plainly. Are we talking about the Dakkur? You both used to be allied with the G’lothc.

Yes, indeed. We thought ourselves rid of them for all time, but now they have gained a foothold in this galaxy. Now they seek to conquer, and crush, and subjugate all before them–just
as they and their former masters ruined their own galaxies, and drained them of all life in their insatiable lust for power. They are the pupils of the Dark Ones, and will not be stopped. They can only be destroyed. That is the only way to defeat them.

Naero really should
n’t be that surprised. She had heard rumors and mention of Baeven and Gaviok fighting the Dakkur. And clearly, they had not left the galaxy.

Their enemies were out there
this moment, lurking, plotting, gaining strength. Womi, you’re telling me that the Dakkur have gained a strong foothold in this galaxy? Our galaxy? Where? Where are they expanding their control and dominion?

Far off, i
n what you call the Gamma Quadrant. You have not explored it yet. Far away from your skies, they have established six new Dakkur homeworlds: Maggoth, Shokk, Kolothon, Xoggoth, Churrok-Kul, and dark Nakkra-Kron. Xalkar I, the Shadow King of the Dakkur has spread destruction and death to every nearby system via his slaves. The new Dakkur Empire has crushed several important, powerful races, and wiped out their worlds, stripping them of all life. Now they only breed more armies of their slaves.

That had to be where the Ejjai were being bred, in vast numbers, at the high
expense of other interstellar races, unfortunate enough to be near them.

The Dakkur were following in the true footsteps of their Dark Masters. If they ever
got their hands on enough of the Darkforce, unlocked the true secrets of G’lothc tek, and began to apply its destructive capabilities wholesale–they might never be defeated.

Womi, I need you to show my people and I where the Dakkur are in the Gamma Quadrant. Can you do that?

I can tell you where it is best to look for them in general. My people ride the Cosmic and dimensional winds by instinct. We do not bother much with maps and such things. But I have a price of my own for divulging such knowledge, if it is so vital to you.

And what is that?

Find a way to restore me to my former self and grant me safe passage. Do that, or I will not tell you anything more, or aid you any further. That is the bargain that I make with you and your kind.

If we do so,
Womi, then you must promise in turn, never to attack my people or their worlds again. And, to try to dissuade others of your race from doing so.

You wo
n’t have any more trouble from me. But I cannot speak for others of my kind. They’re notoriously independent and unpredictable. But I don’t see many wishing to repeat our recent folly. Is our bargain struck, then?

Done. I will begin studying
you when I have the chance, to see if I can figure out how to regenerate your crippling injuries. I don’t have a great deal of experience dealing with Cosmic beings and energy creatures of your advanced nature, but I will do my best.

Very well. Just find me a nice quiet place to rest
in the mean time, and I will do my best to recuperate as much as I can on my own–if I can find a way to do so.

I’m going to keep you with me, then. Do you mind if I place you in one of my pouches?

Fine with me. I can use the rest. Just don’t crush me.

We’ll try to avoid any crushing.

Naero tucked him away.

Even as she did so, a Cosmic energy spasm racked its way suddenly through her body.
That wince of pain only served to remind her that she needed to find a cure for her own Cosmic sickness, before it burned her up, melted her, or caused her to explode.

Merging with the artifact statue had cursed her with a growing Cosmic sickness, that would eventually consume her, one way or another, unless she devised or discovered some kind of cure.

Once she located Baeven, she felt certain that the two of them could have a long talk, and attempt to figure out something.

If he had found a way to avoid such a fate, then so could she.

Naero drifted off, concealed within the cloaked, darkened cockpit of her small, advanced craft, still hiding out on the surface of Thanor-4.

Unfortunately,
in her troubled state, she had bad dreams and visions about fighting various monsters, Darkforce generators, and the grim, overwhelming tide of the Darkforce itself.

Om had to wake her for the rendezvous
when the time came.

Naero. The
Darkstar has arrived.

Much to her surprise, Tyber and Zhen rushed to embrace her when she landed in one of the launching bays.

Zhen must have transferred over to Ty’s ship at some point.


Greetings, Naero,” Alala sounded out over the ship’s com. “Welcome back. It is very good to have you with us again.”


Thanks, Alala.” She hugged her friends in great relief. It did in fact feel good to be in a relatively safe place, and with good friends beside her in her time of need.

Naero sensed Om and Alala sharing a rapid back and forth of information and greetings as well. They were talking all about upgrades and the KDM, and Om tried to explain their situation to Naero’s prodigal
, AI offspring. Alala was the core of the hybrid ship that allowed it to be such a self-aware miracle–a living starship. While teknomancing to save her life, Naero inadvertently created Alala, patterned after her own mind.

Om and Alala, both being A
Is, could communicate on a level and with a rapidity that Naero did not bother to intrude upon.

Now that she could breathe at least, Naero sat down to a
fine meal with her friends, and spoke at length while they ate, about her situation, and what she needed to pursue.

She did
n’t even know how to get around to explaining Womi to anyone, so she kept that little secret to herself, just for the time being.

As usual, Naero had far too much on her plate.

Yet, now that she was in good company, Naero could let her guard down slightly and relax a bit. She even allowed herself the pleasure to drink a few borbbles of Jett with her meal, and found them both satisfying and re-assuring.

She belched, rubbed her full tummy
, and turned to Ty. “So, T. When are we meeting up with
The Star Fox
?”

His face fell slightly. “I ca
n’t say, N. We haven’t had any word from Baeven, his ship, or his crew, yet.”

Alala cut in. “We are proceeding to search the area near Baeven’s last reported position. That is all the information that we have to proceed upon.”

Naero knew that they had already jumped away from Thanor-4, but she hadn’t known where they were heading yet.


Well, I suppose that’s better than nothing.”

With time to kill, Naero and Om continued their startapping and replication efforts
.

Yet that proved frustrating as well.

The worst thing was still trying to replicate herself.

Naero could create a lifeless duplicate of herself–that would pass as a dead body, but that was it. Try as she might, she could not perfect the ability to breathe the
Lifespark into the thing, and have it live or move around, even for a little while.

She could
n’t get it.

We’re missing something, Naero
.

Naero slapped her hands on her thighs in frustration.

Then tell me what it is, Om. Because I don’t have a clue what’s wrong. We’re doing everything the way we should, and it’s not working. So you tell me.

I just do
n’t know. Some insight eludes us. Perhaps if we explore the full life cycle, that will tell us something.

They kept going until Naero almost passed out again.

After five hours of solid slumber, Naero was summoned to the bridge. An actual distress call finally reached them on one of Baeven’s private channels, secret channels that only he could use.

Ty’s com officer opened the link
and looked to him and Naero. “Ready, sir.”

Ty motioned for Naero to go ahead.

“Baeven, this is Naero. Good to hear from you. We have a lot to talk about. What’s up with the distress call?”

Usually it was Baeven coming to her rescue, not the other way around.

A female voice came over the link instead.

Naero recognized it as
the voice of either Baeven’s strange ship, or one of his equally strange crew that she had not met in person yet.

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