Legacy of Shadow

by Gallant, Craig;

  The Variyar’s laugh echoed through the small chamber. “My friends, you have given me my first joyful moments in more than an age.” Angara could not tell if the creature’s eyes were tearing up or if they had always shined that way. His clawed hand tapped gently on the table with an unnerving scraping, as he shook his head in disbelief.

  “You have lived among those who hate you all this time, and none of your precious advisors thought to enlighten you regarding the source of this odium?” The smile faded slightly, and the look he gave Angara was more judgmental than before. “That was no kindness, girl.”

  Angara felt the need to defend herself rise in her chest, but tamped it down. She forced herself to settle back into her chair, waving the comment away.

  K’hzan Modath turned on Marcus and fixed him with a flat stare. “You have a galaxy of history to learn, Marcus Wells. It will take you a lifetime to absorb it completely.” The smile returned, but there was no kindness in it. “However, I will take great pleasure in summating for you the salient points.”

  She watched Justin lean forward in fascination. Marcus, too, was fixated upon the big Variyar, barely able to control his eagerness.

  “Your tale begins in a time now lost in the mists of myth and legend. For make no mistake, Humans, this is your tale.” One clawed finger stabbed out first at Marcus, then at Justin.

  “Many sentients rose from their homeworlds to contest for mastery of the galaxy, meeting in battle, forming alliances and federations, and negotiating a new reality as sentients have always done.” He leaned on one elbow and brought his head closer to his rapt audience.

  “One race rose more swiftly than any other. There is almost no way to know now what combination of traits and strengths attributed to their rise, but very soon, in galactic terms, Humanity was the near-undisputed ruler of the known universe.”

  Marcus and Justin straightened at this. A faint smile spread across Marcus’s pale face. Obviously, he liked where he thought the story was going. She almost cringed, knowing its true destination. And with a Variyar telling the tale, especially this Variyar, she knew it would not be easy to hear.

  “This is nothing to rejoice in, Humans.” The demon’s face became stone. “Your ancestors were not kind. Their rule was not one to bring joy to those they ruled. The galaxy was their plaything, and they were as unruly children, incautious with their possessions. Their cruelty knew no bounds, and despite the fact that only whispered legend remains of those dark times, it says much that the hatred instilled then continues to run true to this very day.”

  Marcus must have realized his mouth was open and forced it shut with a click. Justin seemed even more affected.

  “Among their many lasting cruelties were those the unkind refer to now as the Children.” The horns glinted dully as he inclined his head to Angara, then Ve’Yan. She did not know about the Thien’ha, but she could have lived without the recognition. “Also known as the Children of Man. Entire races created as the ideal servants, soldiers, and even idle works of art.”

  Justin started at that, shooting a quick look at Angara with an expression she was too preoccupied to translate.

  Marcus’s eyes were narrowed, a deep crease forming between them. “But Earth—”

  K’hzan silenced him with a single upraised finger. “My tale, Human. To be completed in my time.” The smile would have taken some of the sting from the words, she thought, had it featured fewer sharp teeth.

  “One race dared to contest with these tyrannical overlords. My own people, the Variyar of old, were proud warriors in their own right, and refused to be subjugated. They rose up against the Humans and contended with them for the fate of the galaxy. The war that then raged across the face of the heavens was mighty indeed, and entire systems were laid waste by the power unleashed by both sides. An age of war descended upon the galactic civilization, and entire generations were born, raised, and died knowing only violence, hatred, and death. The scars of this great war have never fully faded, and are the true source of your difficulties today.”

  K’hzan waved a hand toward Khet Nhan. “For the Variyar were not alone. An alliance of races that had not dared face the Humans unaided coalesced over time. These sentients stood beside my own ancestors, compensating for their lack of strength and numbers by slowly calling to themselves the many disparate peoples who had been wronged by Humanity. Their assistance was unasked for and unwanted, but the war had ground down into a bloody stalemate, and my people, for all their strength, could not end it alone. The alliance of the weak asserted itself in the final stages of the conflict. Now numbering far greater than the Variyar, they were in a position of great strength and influence in the end. With some small justification, they were able to declare themselves essential to the final victory over the Humans and lay the groundwork for a supposed democratic alliance of equals to rule in place of the defeated tyrants.”

  Marcus’s eyes widened as he put the pieces together. K’hzan met his gaze and nodded slowly. “The Galactic Council is the spiritual descendant of that ancient alliance. They have since spent millennia consolidating their power in the name of equality and justice for all beings.” The red king’s sneer spoke volumes on his regard for that pursuit. “Behind the pretext of democracy and manumission, some few of the more energetic of these weakling races guided the formation of the Council, replacing the dispossessed Humans with a new tyranny: the tyranny of the weak.”

  This turn in the story had changed the big creature’s demeanor, and he now looked as if he wanted to spit onto her table in his anger. His eyes drifted into the middle distance as he contemplated something that obviously twisted bitterly within him.

  “But what about Earth?” Justin asked after a moment. Marcus nodded, mutely.

  K’hzan seemed to shake himself, and then looked between the two Humans as he brought his mind back to the present. “Ah, yes. Earth. Have you not guessed? Under the control of that ancient, fledgling council, those remnants of the Human race who surrendered in the final days of the war were deposited on what you think of as your home planet. They were given no advanced support or assistance. My speculation is that those kind hearted sophists of old expected your ancestors to wither and die of their own accord. In the likelihood that these survivors thrived, the entire planet was seeded with genetic markers that would, over time, bring the DNA of the defeated Humans in line with the lifeforms indigenous to the planet. A false fossil record was laid down, with no small amount of amusement, to make it appear that Humans had been on Earth far longer than their actual tenancy.”

  “And the damned dolphins were sent to keep an eye on us.” Marcus was obviously numb with the successive revelations, but that last piece slid home with an almost audible sound.

  K’hzan shrugged. “The Aijians volunteered to take that duty upon themselves in perpetuity when it became clear that the Humans had survived, and would most likely continue to do so. The Aijians negotiated for a larger share of power within the forming Council for their services.”

  Marcus and Justin shared a look, and Angara could almost feel sorry for them both. At least she knew the true history of her wretched people.

  Justin raised a hand, the other holding his head upright. “What about all the other worlds the Humans had occupied?”

  The red king frowned. “There must have been great anger in the final days of the conflagration. Humans had nearly burned the galaxy down around us all. The Council, in their wisdom, decreed that no single work of Man would survive the ending of the war. Planets were scoured, millennia worth of development and production were plunged into uncaring suns. In the final, desperate days, Humanity had almost unlocked the secret to unleashing a new, devastating form of weaponized energy that might well have turned the tide of the war. Fearing what might have happened should another race continue their research, no vestige of their technology was allowed to survive.” The crimson face fell once again into its habitual sneer. “I’m certain the Council would have never held back any
of that technology for its own study, of course.”

  “There is no proof that the Humans even had such knowledge.” Angara said abruptly. “You speak of myth as if fact, and legend as if it were written in stone, not smoke.”

  K’hzan smiled at her with an unnerving expression. Angara met him head on, not willing to allow him to editorialize further. Much to everyone’s relief and surprise, the big alien shrugged again, settling back into his seat.

  “My people know what they know, and believe what they believe. I am certain the Tigan have their own variations of these tales, princess?”

  Justin’s eyes widened at that, and she felt a nervous flutter in her stomach, but K’hzan was not finished with his diatribe.

  “Still, it is true that much is speculation and guesswork at this late time.” He looked back at the Humans, his eyes cold. “But rest assured, the weight of opprobrium you have felt from the first moment your feet left the mud of Earth behind finds its root in the tale I have told you here.” He looked at Angara and the mystics, then back to Marcus. “What parts are true or fable matters little. Your people are hated and feared in equal measure for what they are perceived to have done.”

  “But all things change!” Khet Nhan muttered, his eyes still wild. “And the return of Humanity onto the galactic stage could well signal the end of a cycle of stagnation and torpor, and a dynamic reawakening in the galaxy!”

  “Or it could herald the destruction of everything.” Sihn Ve’Yan spat under her breath.

  Marcus shook his head. “This doesn’t make any sense.” He seemed less convinced than his words might indicate; she had come to know his tones and facial expressions well since forcing him from his home, she realized. “I’ve spent months looking for anything like this story, and the data stacks throughout Penumbra don’t say anything about any great war, or Humanity as the evil overlords of the galaxy, or the Variyar as the plucky down-and-out saviors.” He looked as if he had bitten into something rotten. “If this is so well-known, why wasn’t there so much of a hint anywhere I looked?”

  That seemed to truly puzzle K’hzan, and she herself found it odd. She had never looked for any such information, of course. Every naive youth knew these stories. Every species had their versions, and in ever one, Humanity loomed large as the dark forces of evil and slavery. The rare splinter fleets of feral Humans, the descendants of those ancient fleets that had escaped the end of the great war, had always been taken as proof enough. But, because everyone believed it, she had had no reason to ever look into the Penumbran records for the information.

  The horns gleamed dully as the red king shook his head. “I do not know the worth of your research, Marcus Wells. Nor do I know the depth of the information available in Penumbra in this regard. But I can assure you, as I said, these tales are the fuel that feeds the fires of hatred you have been fighting since you arrived.”

  “Enough.” Marcus’s seemed tired, his shoulders slumped. He turned back to K’hzan. “There’s no denying that the story’s interesting, and will bear future thought. But as far as our problems here and now, it doesn’t matter at all. What Justin said is true. We’ve heard you have a fleet, somewhere out here in the fringe. Is that true? One ship will hardly be sufficient, no matter who commands it, or what brilliant scheme we concoct.”

  K’hzan nodded, eyes narrow. “I have access to more ships. In aid of what?”

  “This cannot be a battle between Variyar and Council!” Khet Nhan had jumped off his chair, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “History has already witnessed that folly.” The little pink eyes glared at K’hzan. “You have already witnessed that folly.” One small finger rose to point, dark nail gleaming, at Marcus. “This moment must rest on the shoulders of the Human.”

  Marcus stared at the little master in silence. His eyes blinked once, and then again, and then he smiled. He dipped his head as if to acknowledge the point, and then looked at each of them in turn.

  “Our only real chance is if I can bring the city’s systems to our side. And the only real chance we have of that is if I can get the Skorahn back.” He shrugged, looking a little lost. “Whatever was happening with my bond to the Relic Core on our way out of Penumbra, we cannot gamble our lives, and the future of the city, on such a weak hope. Only with the medallion do we know, for a fact, that we will have the city’s power working for us, not against us.”

  “And you can’t get to the city with the fleet in the way.” She wanted to nail down K’hzan’s support as soon as possible. There was almost no way they were going to be able to make any of this work without somehow dealing with the Council fleet, and there was no way a single Tigan swift ship was going to be able to do that. She turned to the red king. “How many ships can you bring to our cause? Will they be enough?”

  He smiled at her as if he could see into her mind. “I have reviewed the sensor data from your flight. The Council has sent an entire Peacemaker fleet to Penumbra; a formidable adversary.” His smile tightened, and his sharp teeth glistened wetly behind thin lips. “I will not bring to bear power sufficient to meet them in open battle, but I believe I will be able to make such a show as to draw them off long enough for you to insert yourselves into the city.” He leaned back, massive shoulders heaving beneath the cloak. “As for securing your Skorahn, of course, that will be up to you.”

  “Between the Ntja he smuggled into the city, and the marines from the Peacemaker fleet he has surely added to his force, there will be an army waiting for us as soon as we land.” Sihn Ve’Yan’s bitter face had hardened as the plan took shape. It was unheard of for Thien’ha to take a hand in events the way Khet Nhan was suggesting. It must have been eating at the girl since they had first taken steps to watch over Marcus Wells. Now that her master’s support was so patently stated, it was most likely driving her mad. “And what good will taking the city do us if at the end of the battle, the Council fleet still commands the system?”

  “We can help with those Ntja, anyway!” The little master slapped the table. “They’ll know they’re on the wrong side of history!”

  The Diakk girl shook her head, her dark eyes gleaming, but said nothing more.

  “Once the city’s defenses are engaged, there is little the fleet will be able to do, even if my people retreat from the system. As for the Ntja, you will need more than an eager scholar and a couple of uppity Humans to defeat them.” K’hzan waved one hand. “I can provide a small strike force that will see you to where you need to be.”

  Marcus nodded his wary thanks for this unlooked-for largesse. Angara, however, had her doubts. Command of that strike force would be important. And although K’hzan seemed inclined to take their side in this venture, there would be nothing to stop him from seizing the city after they drove out the Council forces, if that was what he truly wished.

  But without him, there was no hope at all. If Angara was going to salvage the mess she made of this situation, she needed to be willing to work with whatever tools fate saw fit to provide her. She could imagine what each of them saw on the other side of the blood and flame. Justin’s world had been opened wide through his exposure to Galactic civilization. Marcus would be free to pursue his dreams for the city. For whatever reason, the Thien’ha would be happy to see a Human presence in the galaxy once more. But what was K’hzan hoping to benefit from such a horribly risky venture?

  Her eyes tightened as she watched him smiling amiably at the rest of the table. His hatred for the Council was well known. He might very well be willing to throw his power behind this fight just for the chance to taste some of their blood in open combat. But he had bided his time for nearly an Earth century. What was changed now, that made him willing to expose his carefully-hoarded assets against Taurani and the Council’s Peacemaker fleet?

  Her eyes slid to where Marcus was sitting, high in his chair, looked relieved and rather proud of himself.

  A coldness gripped her gut as she looked at him. Humans; that’s what had changed.

  Sh
e wished she knew why that made such a difference to the red king, who was said to hate Humans more than anyone. Why had the presence of a Human, here and now, goaded him into this long-awaited action?

  A cold certainty gripped her. Somehow, the answer to that question was going to matter a great deal more, in the long run, than most of the other questions they had wrestled with that day.

  *****

  Iphini Bha stared at the medallion in her hands, sitting dull and empty against her white skin. She had spent days with the jewel, searching its sapphire depths in every kind of lighting she could find. The symbol still floated there, just out of her ability to comprehend, but other than that, the rock was lifeless and dead. Since Marcus Wells had run away, the Skorahn had been no more responsive for Khuboda Taurani than it had for Uduta Virri or any of the other administrators who had sat the command throne in living memory.

  Security systems had come back under the control of the administrator’s office, rather than the seemingly semi-autonomous responses they had begun to exhibit when Marcus had been present. Taurani’s Ntja were in full control of the suppression fields, doors, defensive cannons, and other systems. At least, she thought they were Taurani’s. The black-clad soldiers that had arrived with the Council fleet were all Ntja as well. They wore uniforms of a more severe cut, and the bulbous metal domes sunk into their heads to shield their crude implants were polished to a high sheen. But they were still the same brutish monsters that had been tearing the city apart since the incident began.

  She sighed, sinking back against the hard back of the chair in the administrator’s office. Taurani had all-but abandoned the control center since his coup. He was out in the city, directing the efforts of the soldiers in seizing the assets of those he deemed dangerous, and incarcerating the most troublesome in a series of storage halls buried beside the reservoir far below.