by Ivan Kal
The Val’ayash were strange. Outwardly, they seemed like any other alien race he had seen on Jar Allera, or even like humans. But the moment one looked deeper inside… one saw that there was something wrong with them. They were all, from young to old, zealots, enthralled by their religion and their belief. Kovac couldn’t understand them and he had tried. They believed blindly in the existence of their ultimate creator that it bordered on true insanity. How could someone believe in a creator who would demand his children to actively kill other life? It was incomprehensible to him.
The Val’ayash believed that they were instruments of their creator, that every life that they ended liberated a soul and sent it on to its true life, a place where these souls would live forever in the glory of the creator. For his part, Kovac couldn’t even begin to fathom how many they had already killed in their insane crusade. Kovac knew their history now—they kept nothing from him, or at least nothing beyond what was truly classified. There was no point. He couldn’t escape, he couldn’t harm them, and in no way could he act against Val’ayash. The bio-implant in his head had done things to him, and over the years it had slowly expanded its influence. Kovac still retained freedom inside his mind, to think what he wanted, and he could even speak freely if he was careful about what he spoke about. But he was now truly under their control. He was just like any of their soldiers.
He would always obey.
But the Val’ayash… He remembered where he had heard their name. It was in a report from the Qash’vo’tar interrogation, after Earth had fought them off. The Val’ayash had been a part of the old Zhal’Qash empire, a race that the Zhal’Qash had accepted in their nation, who they had uplifted but allowed to retain their cultural identity. The Val’ayash had learned everything that the Zhal’Qash had to offer, and then they had turned on their allies. Thus began the Great War, which had brought about the collapse of the old empire. The Val’ayash were why the Qash’vo’tar had occupied Earth, why they had prevented humanity from spreading into space—because humanity, in their eyes, resembled the Val’ayash, and the Qash’vo’tar had vowed to never again allow a race like the Val’ayash to reach space. It was why they always fully uplifted and indoctrinated races they encountered. All races in the Qash’vo’tar were homogeneous; all were Qash’vo’tar.
The Zhal Confederation had followed another path, allowing any race to join them without having to renounce their identity. It was the reason why the two great star nations were at odds. But still Kovac knew that they would fight the Val’ayash together, should their old enemy ever return—if they knew that the Val’ayash had returned. Kovac didn’t even know if his own people had survived.
It didn’t really matter now, however, as Kovac was no longer his own person. He was a servant to the will of Val’ayash, even if in his mind he might try to fight it, even if he could think freely. He couldn’t act.
Sometimes he wondered if perhaps the other Val’ayash were like him, if there was only a small group of Val’ayash who had everyone else implanted with the same implants, and that that was why they all acted the way they did. He had no way to confirm or deny the idea, but it did make him wonder.
Kovac was lost, a prisoner with no way out. There was no choice but to continue on, his actions guided by the thing inside his head.
He reached the far wall and stopped, and for the thousandth time he tried to force himself to smash his head into the wall, and for the thousandth time he failed. He stared at it without moving. He stood there for a while, thinking about what his life was now, what his purpose was. He would never escape—never find a way out.
He turned around and walked to the doors of his quarters. He hesitated with his hand hovering over the panel, which would open the doors, but ultimately he placed his palm on it and the doors slid open. Kovac walked out and headed down the corridor, the Val’ayash walking past him barely sparing him a glance. It was long past the time when he was a novelty.
Kovac tried to keep his eyes forward, and his mind clear. He didn’t like to think on the Val’ayash, as that usually accompanied treasonous thoughts. He had spent time with them, spoken to them, and if one disregarded their religion, it was hard not to think of them like people. Normal, like him, or humans on Earth. And, at times, Kovac could see what the Qash’vo’tar meant when they said that Val’ayash were like humans—something that, more than anything, terrified him. He wasn’t sure if his thoughts had been influenced by the bio-implant, or if it was his own conclusion, but the more time he spent with them, the more he saw them as just people.
He reached his destination, and quickly he made his way to the front of the large viewing room. The window looked out at the gas giant, and Kovac calmed his mind and just watched the storms raging below him. There were ships moving about, from the stations close by to the harvesting stations just outside the gas giant’s atmosphere.
Kovac knew that the Val’ayash had a massive industry, and he knew that they were preparing for their return: the reigniting of a thousands-of-years-old crusade to kill as many sentient beings as possible. All for the glory of their god.
Someone walked up to him, and stopped just next to him, but Kovac didn’t acknowledge the presence. He was not in the mood for talk, and he hoped that the alien would realize that and leave him alone. Instead, after a few more moments of silence, the alien spoke.
“You have been with us for a while now,” Antaris Truthspeaker said, and Kovac knew that there would be no escaping this conversation. Antaris was one of the highest ranked Val’ayash commanders, and from what Kovac had managed to piece together was something like a priest in their religion.
“I have,” Kovac said.
“It has been decided that we have learned all that we could from you,” Antaris said almost casually. But Kovac’s heart started beating faster. For a moment, the prospect of death might not be an impossibility.
“I have outlived my usefulness,” Kovac said slowly as he turned to look at the gray-furred alien. Antaris Truthspeaker was old; if Kovac’s suspicions were correct, old enough that he had been a part of the Great War. Still, he looked intimidating, powerful.
“Just so,” Antaris said, confirming Kovac’s words, giving him hope.
“Then, I am to be executed?” Kovac asked, being careful to keep the hope out of his voice.
“That is was what Command wants, yes,” Antaris said, and Kovac nearly wept from happiness. “But,” Antaris added, “I had a different idea.” Kovac froze. “You have been useful to us, Kovac. You have shared many secrets with us. I interceded on your behalf with the Creator…who graciously accepted.”
“What—what do you mean?” Kovac asked mechanically.
“Come with me, and you shall see,” Antaris said and turned away.
Kovac’s body followed before he could even think on Truthspeaker’s words. The Val’ayash led him through the many corridors to the landing bay where they boarded a small shuttle. Kovac sat next to Antaris in silence, afraid to ask what his fate was to be. The shuttle took them to the other planet in the system, allowing Kovac a better look at the system from the shuttle’s holo. The entire system was surrounded by wild energy which prevented ships from entering, Kovac knew that only Val’ayash shield technology allowed them to pass through unharmed. The energy was the result of the Great War, when both the Val’ayash and the Zhal’Qash had unleashed terrible weapons on each other.
The current Val’ayash had fallen, had lost much, just like the Zhal Confederation and the Qash’vo’tar had. But they had recovered more—still not close to what they had been at their peak, but they remained greater than either of the two remnants of the Zhal’Qash.
The shuttle landed on the planet, and Antaris led Kovac out into the large courtyard of a massive building. Kovac could immediately tell that it was religious in nature, with all the statues and the Val’ayash dressed in robes standing nearby. Antaris took him inside, and they walked through a long hall filled with pillars.
With every step Kovac t
ook, he felt something strange, a sensation that was familiar, but one he hadn’t felt in a long time. As they reached large double doors and were allowed inside, Kovac realized what it was that he was feeling.
Magic.
Antaris led Kovac inside the large round room, and then he bowed, but Kovac was frozen as he stared straight ahead.
In front of him was a tear in space—pulsing black, then white, and then back again. Kovac’s mind was running at light speed as he tried to comprehend the sight before him.
“Creator,” Antaris spoke. “I have brought the one I spoke of.”
Kovac turned to look at the bowed Val’ayash in horror, but then a voice echoed all around him.
“Raise your head, Battle Commander.” It seemed like it were two voices merged together, speaking at the same moment. Just hearing it made Kovac’s head hurt. But underneath the pain, he felt something else: something that felt like magic, only not.
“Thank you, Creator,” Antaris said as he raised his head.
“This one is special, as you have said, Battle Commander,” the voice said as Kovac felt something reach out from the tear and touch him. It was an unnerving sensation, as if whatever this thing was had actually grasped everything that he was. Yet it also allowed Kovac to sense some of what this thing was in return, and somehow he felt that it was two different entities acting in concert. Every pulse of white and black flooded the room with a different kind of energy: one violent and ever changing, the other calm and stalwart.
Kovac couldn’t even speak. The power all around him was almost suffocating him, putting pressure on his body and his mind.
“Yes, your proposal has merit. Your request shall be granted, and this mortal blessed with our essence so that he too may help usher the souls of those who pass by his hand to our side.” The two voices had blended into a single sound, though it was discordant. One half seemed unhinged, changing in tone constantly, filled with every emotion there was, while the other was emotionless, level, with no color.
Kovac stared at the tear in space before him, his mind barely comprehending what was happening. And then he felt the power around him do something, reach down and put something inside of him, and he screamed. His mind filled with images of death and screaming, of hunger unrelenting. And then it was gone.
Kovac raised his head and looked at the tear as it pulsed.
“Thank you, Creator. I shall guide our new brother to the best of my ability,” Antaris said as he reached down and helped Kovac up.
“Yesss… Go, Battle Commander, and fulfill your destiny.”
Antaris started guiding the shaken Kovac out of the room, but the human cast one last glance back, looking at what the Val’ayash had called Creator. Proof of their faith stood there in the tear in space, lending credence to everything that the Val’ayash believed in.
But Kovac had seen a tear like this one before, on Earth—the tear looked eerily like the one that led to Ethorria, only smaller. The thing inside of it resonated with power, like magic, only somehow different.
Whatever that thing was, Kovac was certain that it was no Creator—but he had felt its power, its touch, and in the end, he wasn’t sure that what it was really mattered.
CHAPTER TEN
Kane and Aiko walked hand in hand into Norvi’s mansion. It had been several months, and the auction was finally about to happen. They were both dressed to impress, as were most of the other guests. Aiko was wearing a long and elegant black gown with slips in the side, allowing her legs to show on every step. Kane had a black suit. Both were custom ordered and made here on Illos, and because of that they had a kind of otherworldly look to them—the materials were something that they hadn’t seen before. They walked inside, followed closely by Erika and Imari, who were wearing their CES suits and clutching their handguns, as bodyguards were allowed weapons at the event. People as wealthy and powerful as these did not like entering gatherings like this without being protected. But all understood that they were not to draw their weapons—Norvi’s security was everywhere, and they were there to deal with any issues.
They were escorted to a large hall filled with people. Aiko and Kane nodded at a few of those who passed them, the influential people of Illos who they had met over the last few months. Aiko and Kane had become something of a celebrity couple, mercenaries who had attracted the attention of Norvi Rett, who were wealthy enough to be a part of his auction and to stay at the most expensive hotel in the city.
They greeted those that they knew, and were introduced to those who they didn’t. Many had come from other systems, which was why the auction had been held so long after Prometheus had arrived. If what Kane had heard was correct, some had even come from star nations beyond the neutral zone, on the Qash’vo’tar side.
As they were meeting new people, Kane wondered how many of them were actually agents of other star nations. Some would be, he knew, and he wondered if any of them would be from the Zhal Confederation. He knew that the Zhal had agents who acquired the old tech for them, but Illos was far away from their border and outside their sphere of influence. Kane hoped that there weren’t any, as it would make things complicated. He was sure that Zhal agents in charge of spying on the Prometheus were probably searching for them, as they had again left the wormhole halfway through their journey. It had been unavoidable; they’d had to get their hands on the old tech.
Finally, they were approached by a familiar figure. Norvi Rett walked over to the two of them and greeted them, and with him—to Kane’s surprise—was the mercenary Captain U’koll. The alien woman didn’t react at all at seeing them.
“Ah, my new friends, it has been some time,” Norvi greeted them. They hadn’t seen each other since their last meeting.
“This is quite some party,” Aiko said.
“Thank you,” Norvi said. “And I must also thank you for allowing my captain to live. It is so hard to get good, capable help…even though they fail at times.”
Kane didn’t even blink at the crime boss’s knowledge. He had already assumed that he knew, since the captain was at his side. U’koll simply nodded and continued looking around the room. “We were not there to kill. We were there for the cache.”
“Of course,” Norvi said. “I assume that you had found the location of the cache in some kind of a database, like we had?” he asked, but Kane noticed something in his tone. At length, Kane realized what it was: the only ones who would have a database containing the location of a cache were the Val’ayash. That meant that Norvi knew about them, and had recovered some of their tech.
“Yes,” Kane answered. There was no point in lying, and Norvi’s reaction told him that it was the right answer.
“It is rare to see true honor between people in our lines of work, and for that, you have my respect. As such, I will not request that you return the crates you took from my mercenaries…and the little trinket you provided me has already proved itself more valuable than what I could earn from what you took.”
Aiko and Kane simply inclined their heads as an answer. “You have had the chance to do some research?” Aiko asked.
“Yes, and while some experiments gave…violent…results, we have made progress, and learned much,” Norvi said.
Kane understood—they had been experimenting with scripts. He could only imagine what kind of violent reactions they had unleashed. Even humans, with the help from the Wanderers, had failed experiments.
“I’ve wondered about something ever since we met last time,” Kane started. “The tech that you recover from the neutral zone is incredibly valuable. Why not keep it for yourself?”
“I am a businessman,” Norvi started. “The risks of keeping and utilizing such technology for myself or to try and make my own little empire are too great, in my opinion. Even here we are subject to the Zhal and Qash’vo’tar Compact. I might be willing to break it, but I am not stupid enough to think that I can stand against the Zhal Confederation should they find me using that technology to conquer. It is already
hard enough keeping them from finding out about my activities.”
Kane nodded, satisfied with the answer.
“Speaking of the Zhal,” Norvi continued, “I’ve had the time to make some inquiries into you and your people.”
“Oh?” Aiko asked, her hand tightening on Kane’s. He gave her a squeeze, reassuring her. Kane had known people like Norvi during his time in Africa and the Middle East, and knew they had nothing to be afraid of.
“Yes. Did you know that the Zhal have you classified as top secret? It was nearly impossible to get anything from my people in their agencies. And even once they did manage it, they found disappointingly little. Other than the few mentions that you have some connection to the Qash’vo’tar…” Norvi trailed off.
“We’ve had dealings with the Qash’vo’tar, yes. Not all peaceful,” Aiko told him.
“That is surprising. It means that your territory is even farther away than I initially thought, beyond the neutral zone. And the fact that you have survived meeting the Qash’vo’tar… It speaks volumes. It is my understanding that they absorb all other races into their indoctrinated civilization.”
“The Qash’vo’tar have a…different view of the world than we do,” Aiko said.
Norvi turned his head toward the other side of the room as a soft chime sounded across the hall. “Ah, the auction is about to begin. I wish you luck.”
Kane and Aiko watched him leave and then turned themselves, walking out of the hall where they were then directed to their room. They found their room and took a seat at the table inside.
The auction was going to be conducted in privacy, with every party being able to watch over the holograms in the room and bid anonymously. An item would pop up on the holo with all of the information available about it and the parties would then bid. There was a set amount of time allowed for each item, and everyone could see the top bid.
“Any chance that we could bid on anything that we find interesting?” Erika asked as she leaned over Aiko’s shoulder to look at the holo, which was currently showing the rules. Imari was standing next to the doors, keeping guard.