by James Somers
stomach: three consecutive quick blows that knocked the wind out of him. He followed the ambush with a backhand to the side of the head that sent Tiet to the ground gasping for breath.
He looked up at his mentor, who was smiling at him again. He remembered the old lesson to refrain from anger in battle as it can foil one’s concentration.
“You tricked me,” he coughed out.
“My dear young king, it was only for your own good and ours.”
Wynn offered Tiet a hand, helping him to stand again. The pride and anger were gone, replaced with the knowledge that Wynn would never let the issue die.
“The Council meets tonight at dusk. Don’t be late.”
☼
Wynn smiled and turned away to leave the courtyard and its stunned audience who began to whisper about the outcome. Tiet looked after the elder man. He had been foolish to have been baited so easily. It was so important to Wynn, this matter of the throne. Tiet did not understand why, but a promise was still a promise.
He heard a slow clapping coming from behind him and looked to see its source. Ranul was sitting under the shade of the balcony overhead clapping, sarcastically, with a sly grin on his face.
“Yes, yes—very funny,” Tiet said as he turned to gather up his sparring equipment from the ground.
Ranul got up and walked over to him. The soldiers were renewing their training on the grounds, pairing up as they prepared for the days to come when the Baruk would almost certainly attack.
“Now don’t be mad, young master. After all, Wynn means well. The people do need a leader and you are the natural choice. I’m sure Orin would have agreed.”
Tiet turned to look at him. “Well, I don’t know about that. Orin tended to be very protective of me and a bit critical.”
“Maybe, but he cared a great deal for you. And whether you realize it or not, he was quite proud of you.”
“How do you know that?”
“I knew Orin very well back before the Vorn came. It was written all over him. He treated you like the son he never had. He would have wanted you to take your rightful place as King.”
Tiet looked at him, not sure how to answer. He was rubbing his stomach. Wynn had really laid into him.
“You should get over to the medical complex and have my daughter take a look.”
Tiet smiled. “I’m not really hurt, Ranul. He just knocked the wind out of me.”
“It’s still worth a visit, just to see Mirah. Haven’t you two been talking recently?”
“A little, but…”
“But what? She’s a nice girl, Tiet…”
“I know.”
“And she’s moving up now that she’s completed her medical training. You’re going to have to think about taking a wife someday.”
Tiet looked at the donjarr on his wrist. He had still not removed it after losing Dorian. “You’re a bit direct aren’t you Ranul?”
“I don’t mean to push Tiet, but you have to go on with your life. Dorian is gone and Orin is gone—you have to assume your responsibilities for your own good and the good of those around you.”
“I just don’t want to fail everyone like I failed them.”
“You didn’t fail them. You fought back against those who had enslaved our people and you won. I owe a debt to you I can’t repay in giving me back my daughter. If you hadn’t been set on freeing us from the Vorn, she would have died in that prison cell along with the children they had captive with her. She was able to go on with her residency work and now she’s turning into a fine physician. You haven’t failed.”
Tiet thought about it for a moment. His words were kind, but they cut him to the heart. He felt unsure of himself, yet convicted by the need to serve the people.
“I had better get going, Ranul. I’ve got to get ready for this meeting if I’m going to keep my promise.”
He shook Ranul’s hand and started to walk away from the courtyard.”
“Tiet, don’t forget. If you get a chance, go by and see Mirah. She really would like to see you. You know, she was very complimentary of the man that freed her from prison.”
He laughed under his breath as he continued to walk away. “Subtle, Ranul, very subtle.”
☼
Governor Tal tapped the communication panel to end the transmission to his ship. He was onboard the flagship of the Baruk space fleet. He had assured his wife of his safe arrival. It was time for his meeting with Lord Lucin. He was quite anxious about the meeting. Since their rendezvous with the Baruk battle convoy months ago, he had not been given much information.
The Baruk were far too secretive for his own tastes. After all, the Vorn military and the Baruk were supposed to be allies. This meeting should have taken place just after their arrival. But he wasn’t about to push the issue with Lucin.
The Baruk were the most blood-thirsty clan Tal had ever known. It was dangerous enough to be their ally and the Baruk’s alliance with Lucin was the stuff of legend. He was terrified of this mysterious clan.
One of the Baruk warriors came into the chamber. He was fierce looking to say the least. His black body armor was a part of him—a symbiotic coexistence. Whatever the living armor was, all of the warriors of the Baruk were joined to them. Somehow they covered and intertwined internally and externally with the Baruk, forming a living exoskeleton that protected them.
Tal had seen the warriors in action before. Their exoskeletons were capable of repelling light pulse weapons fire. And the various weapons they utilized were part technology and part bio-weaponry.
The warrior motioned for Tal to follow him. They both entered the chamber of Lucin. Tal had only seen him once before. He ruled the Baruk and appeared as human as any other, but there was a darkness which emanated from him: oppressive and evil.
Tal came before him where he was seated upon a raised platform. Lucin was sitting on a wide throne that seemed more organic than craft. Tal waited for Lucin to speak, not daring to show any disrespect to him.
“You have desired an audience with me, Governor Tal?” Lucin asked.
“Indeed, my lord. I would inquire as to your plans for retaking the planet of Castai on our behalf. We looked to you for assistance in quelling the rebellion of the Horva under General Grod, but we were overrun at Baeth Periege before you could arrive.”
“Should we retake the planet it would be unwise to reinstate control to your regime, Tal. You lost the planet and most of your people were killed. You lack the capacity to reign over the inhabitants.”
“But we are allies. Surely you will want to help us to regain control. It is for your benefit as well—”
“Our benefit does not concern you, Tal,” Lucin interrupted. “You are weak. It is time the Baruk assumed possession of Castai.”
“But you can’t—” He almost bit his own tongue, trying to stop the words.
”Can’t?”
“What I mean to say, my lord, is that we have always tried to govern the territory in accord with your interests as well as our own. It would be unfortunate to dissolve that relationship now. I still have a thousand people aboard my ship who can lead the way in retaking the planet from these rebels—at your command, of course.”
“My command has already been issued concerning your people,” Lucin said.
A holographic image of Tal’s vessel gliding along with the Baruk convoy appeared in the room above him. One of the Baruk ships heaved a large projectile out of one of its cannons. Tal’s heart sank as the object impacted with his ship, smashing it like a glass upon the floor. Over one thousand people, including his own wife and children were dashed to pieces in a moment.
Tal gasped. He could not breathe. He almost didn’t notice the white hot needle-stick: a neurotoxin injection. Tal lost sensation almost instantly, numbly falling to the ground at the feet of the soldier who had administered the poison. His breathing slowed then stopped as his muscles ceased to function. Tal was suffocating, but he couldn’t move to help himself though his mind was still clear.
<
br /> “We have no further need of treaty with you, or your people, Tal,” Lucin said. “Now that your strength has been diminished, we see Castai as ripe for the taking.”
Tal could not respond. His body began to spasm from lack of oxygen. Lucin hissed with delight as the Vorn governor entered the throes of death before him.
“Housra, it is time to deal with our traitor and don’t underestimate him. He is still a Barudii,” Lucin said to the soldier.
“I obey.”
KALE
The food aboard the Baruk vessel was barely palatable. Kale detested almost everything about their clan. If the Vorn military had been able to suppress the various uprisings then I wouldn’t be in this mess, he thought. Kale had been turned against his Barudii people, by Lucin himself, all those years ago and now he was paying for it.
He understood the desire of the Baruk to control the planet of Castai. It was rich in resources and, perhaps even more importantly, it was the perfect location for control of the transdimensional rift.
None of that really mattered to Kale. He had no allegiance to anyone. He took another bite of carusk meat. It was bitter on his tongue. The Baruk loved this meal as a delicacy, but that didn’t surprise him. The bitterness of the meat seemed ironic to him as he thought about it. What had seemed right and good for him at one time so long ago had become ashes in his mouth.
Kale could not push out the thought of his brother running across the tarmac to try and save Orin. He realized that Tiet almost certainly didn’t know who he was at