A Greater Duty (Galaxy Ascendant Book 1)

by Yakov Merkin

  Nayasar sighed. “Not what I would have thought of first, but that should work. Besides, I haven’t been in a while. I just hope I don’t get guilted into going again next week. Come on, I hate getting there late.”

  “So you’d rather not go at all than get there late?” Felivas asked as they started to walk. Darkclaw followed just behind, attempting to follow their conversation.

  “I just feel really awkward walking in late. I feel like everyone is staring at me,” Nayasar said.

  “You’re the leader of the army and the king’s daughter. I’d have thought you’d be used to people staring,” Felivas said, smiling.

  “Just because I let you stare doesn’t mean I want everyone doing the same,” Nayasar retorted.

  “You? Self-conscious? I never thought I’d see the day.” Felivas paused, and his eyes widened. “Are you putting on weight?”

  Nayasar smacked him lightly on the forearm, then narrowed her eyes in what Darkclaw could only assume was meant to be menacing, but not succeeding. “If you’re not careful, you’ll find yourself with nothing to stare at. And enough anyway, we’re confusing the poor executor.”

  “I cannot feel confused,” Darkclaw reminded her automatically, though whether that was truly the case any more was questionable. “There are things that I do not understand, however.” It seemed as though he was constantly behind their banter; as he attempted to decipher what they meant in one sentence, they had already continued on, leaving him further behind.

  “And we can explain most of it. Do you have any questions now?” Nayasar asked with a smile.

  “Nothing that I feel can easily be explained,” Darkclaw replied.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Nayasar asked.

  “You may, Grand Admiral. Nayasar.” Darkclaw corrected himself.

  Nayasar smiled. “Are you sure that you are truly incapable of feeling emotion? I know you said that you are, but I can’t see how that’s possible. For example, you truly cannot feel fear or anger?”

  “That is correct.”

  “Would you mind if I tried to test out if that’s really true at some point?” Nayasar asked. “Not that I don’t believe you or anything like that; it just doesn’t make sense to me. Don’t worry, nothing would involve physical harm. Probably.”

  “Do you have to find ways to irritate everyone you like, Nayasar?” Felivas asked.

  “But I cannot be irritated,” Darkclaw reminded.

  “I don’t irritate anyone!” Nayasar insisted, her voice rising slightly both in volume and pitch. “And even if I did… I outrank you, Admiral.”

  Felivas threw up his hands as if surrendering. “Fine. Do what you will. But I’ll have no part in this. At least you’ve found a head of state you like, my lady. Executor, I apologize in advance.”

  The elevator door opened, and they stepped inside. As it closed, Nayasar replied. “You’ll find yourself regretting opposing me again.” Her words sounded angry, but her tone of voice did not match. Nayasar attempted to hit Felivas on the arm again, but the taller Felinaris caught her arm by the wrist. “Do you really think this is appropriate behavior?” he asked in a whisper, which Darkclaw assumed he was not meant to hear, despite the confined space. Nayasar looked up at Felivas, who sighed and let go of her wrist. Nayasar faked another strike, then laughed.

  Darkclaw wanted to ask them to explain exactly what had just happened, whether it had been an actual disagreement or something more subtle, but something was stopping him from doing so. They probably thought little enough of him already, why make himself look even less knowledgeable. Besides, what if the events that had just taken place were meant to be private? Did they assume the fact that he was emotionless made him not count as an observer? He really should ask for an explanation, but he would feel too uncomfortable, too… embarrassed. Again it snuck up on him. By this point there was not even any point to dwell on how it shouldn’t be possible, as it clearly was. The only question now was whether this was some natural occurrence, or if something was wrong with him. Something malfunctioning in his body could be an explanation, but he had only been awake for a few months. The High Lord had created him, and the High Lord did not err. The High Lord would certainly know what he should do, but there had also been instructions not to contact him until the first phase of the invasion was complete. Meanwhile, he needed to learn how to deal with his problem, and the first logical step was to understand it.

  “Would you mind explaining what just happened?” he asked.

  “I’d be more than happy to explain the insanity also known as social interaction,” Felivas said. “While I’m sure you could do a good job too, Nayasar,” he continued, glancing over at her, “I feel that I can approach this from a more objective viewpoint, considering I don’t make a point of annoying people I like.” Nayasar growled faintly, though Darkclaw guessed that again, it wasn’t due to true hostile feelings.

  Just then, the elevator stopped. They had reached their destination. “I hope you don’t mind if we broach that topic later so we can introduce you to a much simpler one—religion!” Felivas said.

  “Did you just make a joke?” Nayasar asked as she stepped out of the elevator. Darkclaw tried to determine what her slightly raised tone and slower speech meant, but could not come up with anything other than shock.

  “Is that a surprise? I’m always joking. Maybe you just miss the subtler ones,” Felivas replied with a smile.

  Nayasar sniffed audibly, but did not reply.

  “It’s just down the hall,” Felivas said, and began to walk down the hallway, which was also on the smaller side, like the hallway outside the memorial room had been. He stopped outside a simple, manual door, which was adorned only with a label written in Felinari, which likely just stated what the room was, and a symbol that was close to, but still notably different from, the royal Felinaris emblem. “There’s not much you need to know before we enter,” Felivas said, “but if you have any questions feel free to ask.”

  “Should my guards remain outside the room?” Darkclaw asked. They had been following silently all this time, though there was no real reason to. All they would do here is draw more attention than he undoubtedly already would.

  “There’s no reason why they should,” Felivas replied.

  “Who knows, maybe they’ll learn something too,” Nayasar added. “Now let’s go already; the door’s closed, so they definitely started already.”

  Felivas turned the handle on the door and pushed it open gently, as if he was concerned about making noise, and stepped into the room. Darkclaw had not spent much time studying religious practices, but he had come across numerous well-known religious sites and buildings. They had all appeared impressive, designed to look appealing. This room looked like an empty room had been hastily converted into a prayer room.

  There were a dozen rows of collapsible chairs, each eight chairs long, all facing the far side of the room. Down the center of the rows of chairs was a thin wooden wall six feet high; to one side sat male Felinaris, to the other, females. On the far end of the room, centered on the wall, was a large, boxlike wooden structure, two and two-thirds meters high, and one meter wide. Unlike the rest of the room, it was decorated, though it was still quite simple. Plantlike patterns were carved into the wood, and near the top were several Felinari words. To the side of the structure was another chair, which faced the rest of the chairs in the room. On it sat a male Felinaris, who, like the rest of the more than two dozen Felinaris in the room, wore a military uniform, his marking him as an infantry captain. He would be considered young, though he looked at least ten years older than both Nayasar and Felivas. On the other hand, that could have been due to his facial fur, which had been grown out more than most Felinaris let it. He, along with the rest of the room’s occupants, held in his hands a quaint paper book, and seemed to be reading silently, along with the rest of the seated Felinaris and another who stood at a wide podium in the center of the room, directly opposite the wooden structure.

>   As Darkclaw and his escorts entered the room behind Nayasar and Felivas the door closed with a slight noise, enough to make some of the Felinaris turn to glance at him. They stared quietly for a few moments, then turned back to their reading.

  Nayasar, who Darkclaw felt he could safely say looked uncomfortable, gave him a small smile and went to sit down in the females’ section, as close to the rear of the room as possible. Felivas led Darkclaw and his escorts to empty seats in the male section, not quite as close to the exit. As Darkclaw carefully sat down on a chair that looked to be made of cheap metal rods and plastic, Felivas walked over to a small, wheeled bookshelf and removed four books identical to the ones the Felinaris soldiers were reading from, and handed them to Darkclaw and his escorts before opening one himself.

  “There’s a standard translation inside,” he explained. “I believe we’re on page two hundred fourteen.”

  Darkclaw considered for a moment the implications of the admiral referring to him as part of a “we”, before carefully opening the book, which was not designed with his hands in mind, and began to read.

  They were in the prayer room, or kset as Felivas had called it earlier, for nearly two hours, but the time didn’t drag. At the very least, the time spent was an interesting insight into the Felinaris religion and community. The services varied between silent times, where those present read to themselves, and time when portions were read responsively, the Felinaris at the podium leading. Most of those responsive sections were recited in tune, as a song. Fortunately, it was pleasant to listen to. The Felinaris language flowed very well, particularly when sung. Darkclaw dreaded hearing Snevans attempt something similar. It also was helpful that he was able to follow along, for the most part, scanning the standard translations with his eyes while the Felinaris read or sang.

  He did not participate, however, except for standing when the group did, because it felt odd to remain seated while the rest of the room’s occupants stood. He didn’t so much read the prayers as he skimmed over them, trying to glean an overall meaning from them. The deity the Felinaris worshipped, the Omnipresent, was mentioned very often, both by that title and others, most always being praised or beseeched to. Events were another common thread in the prayers; Darkclaw recognized some as historical events of religious significance. After reading though most of the prayer book, Darkclaw still did not see the logic in worshipping a largely silent, unseen being. However, he did see that it served a purpose, having been one of the factors that had united the Felinaris into the tight-knit community they had become. While it was an enlightening thought, it still gave him no advice on how to deal with emotions.

  Shortly before the service concluded, the Felinaris leading the prayers paused and sat down, while the officer sitting next to the wooden structure rose. He spun the podium around so that it faced the assembled group, and he leaned against it casually.

  “Good afternoon, everyone,” he began, fortunately speaking in standard. “First, I would like to welcome our distinguished guests. Grand Admiral,” he said, nodding toward Nayasar, “Admiral,” he continued, nodding toward Felivas. “And we are honored by the presence of our new friend and ally Executor Darkclaw.” He faced Darkclaw. “I think I can speak for not only all of us here today, but for all of our people when I say that we owe you a great debt.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Since we all have duties to return to I’ll keep this short, and I assume no one will object to me speaking in standard.” Darkclaw decided he should thank the officer later for his consideration.

  “In this week’s reading,” the officer said, “we read about Dorishak, the first of our kind to communicate with the Omnipresent, taking the first step in the long journey that led to us becoming what we are, a civilization without equal. When we look anywhere else in the galaxy, we see the myriads of other beings, all, like us, making their way in the universe. But every society, no matter how unified they are governmentally, has rifts within society. Conflicts between brethren are frequent, and crime is ever-present. Only we have reached the state where we treat each of our fellows like family, settling the quarrels that arise peaceably. And make no mistake; this does not make us inherently better than any others. Everyone is entitled to believe whatever they wish, so long as they first create a moral society.

  “We have been able to rise above our more primal instincts and forge a just society, while the rest of the galaxy continues to languish in conflict and corruption, with the Alliance being a prime example of this. It has never been and will never be our purpose to impose anything on any other people, rather we, from the days of Dorishak, when he first began spreading the teachings of the Omnipresent, are to be a guiding light to others, a model for them to aspire to become. Especially now, in this time of war, when we are exacting retribution for a terrible crime committed against us, we have to remember our purpose: We must not act as they do, even when we are engaged in a war against them. We must not sink to the level of wanting to completely demolish their societies, and when the Omnipresent grants us victory, we must be merciful, not act as they would if they had, Omnipresent forbid, subjugated us.” He stopped for a few seconds, his gaze traveling over the assembled group, ending on Darkclaw, where it lingered for a second before moving on. “May the Omnipresent grant us a swift victory, and may He protect each of us, the rest of our brethren, and our Snevan and Tyrannodon allies on the battlefield.”

  The prayer leader rose, followed by the rest of the Felinaris. Darkclaw rose as well. The leader turned the podium around, but did not bother to reopen the prayer book as he began to recite a prayer that sounded distinctly melancholic, and yet stirring. It was another responsive prayer, but this time, unlike the previous dozen, Darkclaw found himself speaking the lines that the group spoke, though very quietly. If he had gained nothing else from this, he had become acclimated to the sounds of Felinari. At least something within his mind was functioning properly. Though he could not yet understand the words and he didn’t know where it was located in the book, Darkclaw could tell that the prayer was a solemn one, and it would have been appropriate to recite at a funeral.

  It was over less than a minute later, and the Felinaris began to exit the room. Darkclaw remained where he was, and Felivas and Nayasar soon joined him. Before they had a chance to speak, however, the officer who had spoken approached them.

  “I want to formally thank you again for coming. With things as busy as they have been it’s been hard to find enough for a quorum.” He turned to face Darkclaw directly. “I apologize, Executor, I have you at a disadvantage. Captain Davir Carahe, of the Histal Search and Rescue unit.” He held out his hand. Darkclaw shook it. The captain seemed friendly enough, as the Felinaris as a whole had. It was something he would miss when the High Lord inevitably demanded their subjugation. They would all die fighting.

  “What did you think of my sermon?” Davir asked.

  “It was… interesting,” Darkclaw replied honestly. “As you have likely deduced, I am taking advantage of this time to learn what I can about your kind, to better work alongside you.”

  The captain smiled, his dark brown eyes somehow brightening. “You are always welcome here, Executor.” He paused. “Well, I have duties to attend to. Feel free to linger, just shut the lights on your way out.” He looked past Darkclaw, at Nayasar and Felivas, who had moved to stand next to each other at some point. “I look forward to seeing you again, soon.” With that said, the captain turned and left the room.

  “I knew he would try and guilt us into coming more often,” Nayasar said as soon as Davir left the room.

  Felivas sighed. “So before we leave,” he said to Darkclaw, “do you have any questions? Davir could better answer any religion-related questions, but as he said, he has things to do. We, on the other hand, have the luxury of deciding when we have breaks.”

  “I only have one question directly related to your religion,” Darkclaw replied. There would be far more regarding emotions, but there was not very much to contempl
ate regarding the Felinaris faith. Of course, he was unsure as to how he could best broach the subject of emotions without revealing his problem. “How can you worship a deity that science cannot prove exists? And why would you wish to tie yourselves to one supposedly almighty being?”

  “While it is true that science cannot prove the Omnipresent exists, there are things that science cannot explain, and enough historical events that point toward His existence. But regardless, it is a matter of faith, which is important in its own right. Religion has united us, given us an identity, and allowed our society to advance to where it is now.” Felivas said.

  “Do you not revere your High Lord in a similar way?” Nayasar asked. “You tend to refer to him in a similar manner that we would refer to the Omnipresent. And, to be honest, we have never seen physical proof of his existence either.”

  “I can assure you that he exists,” Darkclaw replied, “but we do not worship as you do. He is our leader. We obey his commands. That is all. And while he does not claim to be all-powerful, he is invulnerable and immortal. There is no comparison.” He could understand the grand admiral’s reasoning, however. Just as he relied on the High Lord’s guidance, they relied on the Omnipresent’s. Though they loved and revered their god, while Darkclaw held no feelings toward the High Lord—though other Tyrannodons likely did.

  While there was still no reason to believe in the Omnipresent’s existence—if he did exist, then how had he allowed the atrocity Darkclaw had just relived—but the Felinaris belief was understandable, and it was true that their religion, whatever its validity, had led to them advancing as far as they had. Perhaps it would be a sound idea to encourage the other Tyrannodons to revere the High Lord in a similar way, to give the common Tyrannodon, who would never behold him, a way to identify. Not that there was any risk of division.