"That doesn’t make me feel any better," she said.
O’Donovan leaned in. "I reckon, if they wanted to kill us, they would have done it already."
Evans sniggered. "Or maybe they would prefer to strip the flesh from our bones."
"Not that you have much flesh for stripping, small fry." O’Donovan chuckled.
"Good," Evans snorted. "That means they’ll go after you first."
"The Kragak have strange appetites, but they aren't wild animals." Grimshaw knew he spoke the words, but he wasn’t sure he believed them. It was difficult reconciling these so-called civilized Krags with the wild creatures he fought in the war.
"Even still," O'Donovan said. "If they try anything, I'll put them down like dogs." He thumbed the heavy machine gun over his shoulder.
"I wouldn't be so sure, O'Donovan," Grimshaw said. "You’d take out a few with that thing, but don’t be fooled by their size. They’ll be on you like a swarm of hornets before you know what’s happening."
"Maybe if we had time to recalibrate..."
"It probably wouldn’t make a difference," Grimshaw said. "Chances are their tech has moved on since the war."
Grimshaw held his breath as the North Star's cargo hold ramp descended. He had to keep his cool. It was crucial not to show an ounce of weakness, physical or otherwise, around the Krags.
Grimshaw descended into an eerily quiet hangar, the rest of the team close on his heels.
Countless other platforms jutting from the rock face supported other ships, most dwarfing the North Star. He didn’t see any sign of activity. Broad lights mounted on uneven rock surfaces cast a green glow throughout the hangar. A walkway, about a hundred meters long, led to a row of tunnel openings along the bottom of a great wedge of rock.
"So much for the welcome party," O’Donovon muttered.
"I doubt they know the meaning of the word," Clio said.
"They’re probably on their way," Grimshaw said, casting a wary eye around the hangar.
As far as he was aware, they were the first three humans to be invited on board a Krag vessel. It was hard not to feel like it was a trap.
Clio and O’Donovan continued chirping away at one another, their voices swallowed by the great void surrounding them.
Booster and the three Zaqarans remained silent as they advanced on the tunnels.
The ceiling was at least twenty feet high and the archway above was decorated with many skulls. Most were alien. Some were familiar. Grimshaw couldn’t tell whether they were real or carved from the rock. He suspected the former. Blades and other sharp implements lined the broad tunnel that led into darkness.
"I like what they’ve done with the place," Evans said. "Adds a touch of warmth."
O'Donovan chuckled, but Grimshaw detected a hint of disquiet in them both.
"A light," Eline said.
Grimshaw strained his eyes until he saw the faint glow far ahead. It gradually grew bigger. "Someone’s coming."
"Looks like they’re sending a welcome party after all," Agent Yert said, mocking O’Donovan.
Grimshaw made out two lumbering figures moving about inside the light. To his relief, their march did not appear threatening.
"Shit," Evans said. "They’re much bigger than in the archives or on the VD."
"Very, very big," Booster said.
Grimshaw considered that strange since the Krags seemed smaller than he’d remembered, but he was the only person present who’d seen a Krag in the flesh. He suddenly realized that they were simply further away than he thought. As they approached Grimshaw saw a smaller figure moving between the giants. "Looks like they have someone with them."
"That must be Agent Lamnon," Agent Yert said with notable relief.
"Let's hope so," Grimshaw said. "It would be nice to have someone else on our side."
Yert took a step forward, looking from under his hand. "It is Lamnon!"
A Zaqaran female robed in tight-fitted black silks and two immense Kragak in armor stopped under the archway.
Lamnon had at air of superiority in the way she carried herself, not unlike other Omnion agent’s Grimshaw had met. Her crest was dark red, and she wore three large gold rings in both ears.
The team kept their cool, but Grimshaw could feel that they were in awe.
The robed Zaqaran nodded. "Good to see you again, Yert. I apologize for my lack of communication, but it is difficult to send messages from inside the Cluster."
"Of course," Yert replied.
Lamnon turned to Grimshaw. "The great Captain Jason Grimshaw. I’m glad you made it."
"The Cluster—as you call it—didn’t make things any easier, but we got here in the end."
"A necessary measure given the situation. This fleet has fled the Kragak Traditionalists. They have gone to great lengths to remain concealed. The coordinates we gave you offered them an opportunity to confirm who you were before admitting you."
"I understand. Care to tell us what’s going on? The Omnion have started dying. We need the cure right away."
Agent Lamnon bit her lip as he smiled. "I’m afraid it isn’t so simple, Captain. The Elders will have to explain. Let us walk. Oh, where are my manners? This is the venerable Oryon Glax and the laudable Kaliff Nugark.”
The Krags stood so statue still Grimshaw couldn’t blame Lamnon for forgetting about them. Grimshaw gave a curt nod and they returned the gesture.
"It is an honor to have you on board the Foundry," Kaliff said, his voice as rich as it was deep.
"This is Ensign Evans, Lieutenant O'Donovan, and Booster. Agent Yert and his companions are negotiators. Captain Haraus of the Unglakt also mentioned meeting with the Elders. What do they want?"
"Honestly," Lamnon said. "I don’t know. But you can ask them yourself soon. Come."
Lamnon and the Krags turned back the way they had come and Grimshaw followed.
"We must go to the arena," Kaliff said, his voice bouncing off the tunnel walls. "You arrived in time for one of the biggest fights we’ve had in a while."
Grimshaw didn’t have time for watching fights. "I thought we were meeting with the Elders."
Kaliff looked back at him like he was a child. "The elders gather for the fight. Guests speak to the Elders before the arena. It is tradition."
Agent Lamnon nodded to confirm. "The Kragak value tradition above all else. Even honor must make way."
The Kragak weren't alone in that. It wasn’t long ago that the Galactic Council had repeatedly refused Grimshaw’s recommendation to reschedule their Sentinel Ceremony. They had cited the value of tradition as one of their reasons.
They continued through the winding tunnel as Lamnon shared stories with Yert. They passed through an entry and into a chamber lined with doors fashioned from the strange dark Krag metal.
Kaliff approached the nearest and fingered the unusual glyphs on the control panel. "The elevator will take us straight to the arena."
Lamnon’s SIG alerted her to a message. The Zaqaran read the device and sighed heavily. "Afraid my presence is required elsewhere. It would help a great deal if Yert and the others accompanied me."
"You aren’t going to assist us with the elders?" Grimshaw made sure to sound as indifferent as possible in case the Krags mistook his question for weakness.
"I will be assisting you. Just not as directly as you might think. Like I said before, things are not so simple here. The Kragak are undergoing a period of turmoil. There are many moving parts that must be handled with great care. I’ve already instructed Kaliff in what needs to be done at the arena. He’s more than capable."
The giant looked down at Grimshaw expectantly.
He decided it best not to show too much reliance on the Zaqarans. "Fine. But meet up with us as soon as you can. We need to get the cure and get out of here."
"Of course. My task shouldn’t take long," Lamnon said as she made her way to the door opposite and gestured for the other Zaqarans to follow. "I’ll see you soon."
The heavy
door shut behind them, leaving Grimshaw, Evans, Booster, and O’Donovan with the two hulking creatures.
They stood in awkward silence as the elevator’s mechanics hummed.
After what felt like an age, a ping resounded and the doors slid apart.
Kaliff and Oryon waited for what remained of the away team to step inside.
Grimshaw did so and they followed.
The doors closed and Kaliff operated the terminal just above Grimshaw's head. The platform jolted and light streamed by as they shot upwards. They rode in silence, but the climb didn’t take long. The elevator jittered to a stop and they alighted into another winding tunnel.
Grimshaw had been following the Krags for a while when Kaliff finally spoke. "We aren’t far from Aldrark’s Hall. There the others will wait while the great Grimshaw appears before the Elders."
"Not a hope," Evans objected. "We go where the Captain goes."
The Krags spun on them.
Grimshaw had to stop his hand from automatically reaching for his rifle.
O'Donovon’s hand shifted and froze when he saw Grimshaw had not acted. Booster simply looked around confused.
"That cannot be allowed," Kaliff grumbled.
Grimshaw put a hand on Evans’ shoulder and waved O'Donovon back. "It's okay. I’m sure I won’t take long."
Their march continued until they reached an intersection that opened into a sprawling market.
"Aldrark’s Hall," Kaliff announced.
Many krags went about their business. Merchants hawked their wares while others haggled at stalls. It struck Grimshaw how normal the scene appeared. He had never thought that Krags could be so civilized. He smirked at his own prejudice. They had planets with cities, heavy industry capable of building mammoth ships, and the most advanced regeneration technology in the galaxy. To think they were incapable of something as rudimentary as a market was beyond stupid.
Kaliff led them through the fray. Most Krags ignored their passing, but several stared and more than one youth pointed to the horror of a parent or guardian.
They arrived at a tall pillar, the lower half of which had been carved into a Krag crouched under the weight of the upper half, as though bearing the weight of Aldrark’s Hall on his back.
"It is the great Aldrark. He lead our people well. Made the Kragak strong before his final death. Then the war with the Terrans came." Kaliff waved Grimshaw over and looked at the rest of the group almost-apologetically. "It is our custom. Warriors and spectators alike, only those bearing the mark of Nahvoy may venture into the arena. Few outside of the Kragak have had the honor of bearing the ancient seal."
He pointed at Grimshaw’s forehead.
The others looked at him and he shrugged and looked up at the looming Krag. "Do you mean my scars?”
"No." Kaliff reached for his belt. For a second Grimshaw thought he would pull his blaster, but he produced a piece of glass or crystal. It was flat and about the size of Grimshaw’s open palm.
Kaliff passed it to him. "Look and see, the great Grimshaw."
Grimshaw turned the heavy stone in his hands, searching for whatever it was the Krag was trying to show him. The mineral’s surface was polished smooth, the inside almost completely transparent with few blemishes. Grimshaw was about to ask what he was meant to be looking for when Kaliff aimed his green lamp at the stone.
Grimshaw’s reflection appeared inside. It was blurred at first, but the longer he stared, the sharper the image became. He had a mark on his forehead, a circle with the curved cross in the middle. He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him and blinked several times, but the mark remained.
"Is everything okay, sir?” Evans said, appearing at his side. "You look like you’ve seen a ghost."
"My reflection. There’s a strange symbol on my forehead."
Evans looked at his forehead then peered into the stone. "Are you sure, sir? I’m not seeing anything."
"Only those with the mark of Nahvoy can see the mark of Nahvoy," Kaliff said taking the crystal from Grimshaw. "Now, we must go. Oryon will remain with the rest of your team. He will protect them. All will be good."
Evans looked to Grimshaw with a cocked eyebrow.
"We've come this far without incident," he said. "Looks like I’ll have to take it from here."
Evans reluctantly stood down and Grimshaw sighed in relief. "Fine."
"Oryon is not permitted inside the arena," Oryon said, breaking his silence with a gruff voice. "Oryon will bring you and your colleagues to a waiting area. We will consume refreshments."
Grimshaw waved as Kaliff led him down a broad corridor towards a set of giant doors guarded with two particularly tall Krags. Their giant halberds rested, crossed before the doors. They wore hideous, horned helmets with glowing red visors, invoking memories of Gorthore. Grimshaw steeled himself with several deep breaths while Kaliff approached the guards. They withdrew their weapons, unbarring the way. The old doors creaked as Kaliff pushed them open. Grimshaw followed into the antechamber, doing his best not to look at the guards.
The lights were dimmed and the space reeked of heavy incense. Dozens of recesses lined the left and right of the room. Grimshaw examined one as they passed. A tall dais supporting a large book rested inside. The next one contained a tall glowing crystal surrounded by a ring of burning incense sticks the length of Grimshaw’s legs.
Kaliff gestured to a recess where a small statue resided. "This is the Walk of Gods. Here, warriors pray for honor and spectators pray for their chosen champion to be victorious. It is a sacred place."
That explained why it reminded him of the temple on Gorthore. He gulped down another flashback.
They reached another set of large doors where Grimshaw heard the dull din of a cheering crowd. "I will check if the Elders are ready to receive you. Wait here. And don’t touch anything."
Grimshaw nodded. He needed no encouragement after what had happened when he entered a similar recess in Gorthore’s temple.
The door slammed shut, cutting off the arena’s noise, leaving Grimshaw by himself in the dull green glow of the overhead lighting crystals. His feet shifted nervously and he leaned against the stone wall as he tried to steady his nerves. But it was no good. Dead bodies flashed in his eyes. He even heard the screams. Smelt his team’s burning corpses. A roar boomed through the hollow hall. He turned around, his back against the wall, eyes darting back and forth as the sound bounced off the smooth rock. There was nothing there. At least nothing he could see.
Am I hearing things?
He wiped his forehead and found he was sweating profusely. His head grew light and he reminded himself to breathe. He puffed frantically, feeling like he was about to faint.
Not now. Please!
A pulsing light caught his attention. It emanated from five recesses away.
Four recesses.
His weak legs brought him closer. He knew he should wait by the doors as Kaliff had instructed, but the light beckoned, leaving him no choice but to reach out.
Three recesses.
He tried to turn away, but the closer he got, the more comforting the light became. It felt warm and welcoming. Like home.
Two recesses.
He hesitated, the voice in the back of his head telling him that he knew what would happen if he didn’t turn away.
But another voice called out, making the one in his head seem small and distant.
Grimshaw, come. Come and you will be rewarded.
Yes. Yes, I’m coming. I want…I need to know.
He rounded the corner to find a recess slightly deeper than the others. Three golden orbs encrusted with red stones were mounted to the wall. Grimshaw entered the recess and reached out for the biggest orb, the stones pulling his tingling fingers like a magnet.
"Grimshaw, where are you?" He barely heard Kaliff’s call. "I’m coming. Don’t touch anything."
Grimshaw’s fingertips brushed the red stone.
A haunting scream echoed through the recess and Grimsha
w’s heart beat harder. He suddenly came to himself, and realized what he was doing.
He tried to remove his hand, but the orb held on no matter how hard he pulled. He opened his mouth to call for help but made no sound.
A chill crept up his arms like an invisible tendril searching for something. The ice snaked around his shoulder and slithered toward his heart.
Yes. Come to us!
Grimshaw jolted as he tumbled forward, the recess opening up to swallow him whole.
22
Ushtaran Summoning
Taza followed Ria as Aldo marched them through the Refinery’s maze of corridors in silence. The Ushtaran guard mumbled behind Taza, the metallic, alien sounds inaudible.
He noticed that Ria’s movements were stiffer than before. She seemed on edge all of a sudden. Whatever had happened between her and Qurpall in the supply room must have been serious. It sounded like the kid had invoked some sort of Chan cultural right. Taza didn’t know what that meant, and Ria had no interest in explaining. Inquiries related to the matter were met with sharp glares and silence.
As the air of awkwardness thickened, Taza wondered what could be so important that Eldi should visit them in person. "What did you say Eldi wanted to speak to us about?"
"I didn’t," the Ushtaran giant grumbled.
"Care to tell us then?"
"Eldi didn’t say. Whatever it is, he wants to tell you himself. Must be important."
He changed tact. "What about you, Ria? Any ideas?"
"I don't know, but most Ushtaran officials would never dream of stepping foot inside the Refinery. They consider places of Chan dwelling beneath their station. It kills Aldo to be here, and he’s a mere guard."
The Ushtaran made a choking metallic sound Taza took for a curse.
He considered the data crystal in his belt. He had to find out what secrets it held without the Ushtarans learning he had it. "Hopefully, Eldi has another lead. The Chan we questioned wasn’t much use."
The Galactic Sentinel: Ultimate Edition: 4 Books with 2000+ Pages of Highly Entertaining Sci-Fi Space Adventure Page 93