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Star Chaser- The Traveler

Page 48

by Reiter


  “Seven, counting you and I,” he answered.

  “Warrior!” the voice scolded. “You are dis–”

  “What does this ship possess in the way of defenses against MajiK?” Dungias interrupted.

  “Nothing,” Felrus replied.

  “Then the trap will be well sprung,” Dungias said as he looked at the floor.

  “There was a medical emergency cabinet in the corridor leading to the balcony,” Dungias recalled. “An injection of mend-dose would not restore Warseth’s ability to breathe, but it would oxygenate his blood long enough to get him to a regenerator.

  “Time from the Duke’s balcony to the first available regenerator?” he asked the Warrior.

  “If it is House Staff, there would be no time.” Felrus replied.

  “Of course,” Dungias sighed in disgust. “Short-range teleporters.

  “The regenerator would render MarrZo unconscious to mend the damage done,” Dungias returned to his estimations. “I could have injured a lung, but I should calculate for the worst case scenario. Inflation of the lungs and mending of the chest cavity would be forty to forty-five tonki. Our flight from the estate took less than two, but I will count it as three. We have been in flight for nearly ten but I will say fifteen.”

  “I calculate you have half a s’tonki before your sensor board goes into a frenzy!” Dungias declared. “From the moment you receive your first proximity warning, however, this ship will lose power and all of its systems.”

  “And what do you suggest we do?” the voice questioned, though it was no longer over the speakers. Dungias turned to see a slender female form enter the chamber. She wore customized body armour that covered her head to toe, though Dungias had never seen the helmet or face mask design before. Four small sections of a type of crystal had been worked into the helmet around the forehead with a larger fifth portal in the middle of the four. Tubing from the chin and lower jaw area extended down into the shoulders of the chest plate, which meant the suit could be made fully environmental rather quickly. The bodysuit was a very dark gray with streaks of black. The only streaks of color came from the cape which was panels of white and silver. The bodysuit was formfitting, letting Dungias knew that the wearer followed an above-average regimen of exercise. “It would seem that we have time to at least try and prevent the trap from closing about us.”

  “Your defenses are set against technology,” Dungias stated as the door to the chamber closed. The feeling in the room changed… the speakers had been deactivated and it seemed that the microphone and vid-ports had been shut off as well. “Are we about to share a First Meal together?” Dungias asked recalling a similar feeling on Warseth’s balcony.

  “Your tone suggests it would be a bad choice for me to offer such a meal,” she replied.

  “Meals are superfluous at this time,” Dungias returned.

  “You make that judgment based on what you know,” the female said as she walked over to one of the chairs. She sat down and crossed her legs. “… or in this case, what you think you know. Please sit. Tell me what you know. Perhaps I can assist you in the making of another conclusion.”

  “And if your estimations are short-sighted?” As if on cue, the ship shuddered. Dungias closed his eyes to the sensation of the ship falling from the fabric of a normal reality. A drive engaged and the ship was soon traveling at near the speed of light.

  “This is not the Jagged Kraythe,” the woman said. Dungias looked at the woman as the lights dimmed for a brief moment.

  “An unexpected power demand?”

  “Yes and no,” she replied. “It is the first time this ship, the Slide-Star, has engaged your stealth field.” Dungias could not keep himself from registering surprise across his face. “Our engineer believed there might be a temporary power dampening with the initiation of the field.” The lights came up to their normal illumination. “But she was very confident the field design would work with this ship.”

  “From the looks of things you have a skilled technician for an engineer,” Dungias stated.

  “I will be sure to pass on your praise,” she said, gesturing once again to the open chair closest to her own. “What does this do for your hypothesis?”

  “Even if they are using MajiK to track me,” Dungias started as he walked over to the chair, taking a seat. “… I have yet to hear of a successful teleportation at speeds greater than Mark Seven-Two. The speed of light is Mark Ten… though it feels you are holding at Mark Nine Three. With the addition of the stealth field, not even the most sensitive system will detect this ship… theoretically.”

  “You can feel that we are at Mark Nine Three?” she questioned. “Remarkable!”

  “It has a very distinctive sensation,” Dungias explained. “And I would further presume that we have time to talk.”

  “Good,” the woman nodded, “because I have been looking forward to this meeting of ours.”

  “You are of the Schatten-Kraythe,” Dungias stated matter-of-factly. “I know that the K’Dalkian Council and some of the more trusted members associated with the Throne have great concerns about your organization… if it can be called that. Neither body is quite sure what you are. Thus the reason why they are greatly concerned.”

  “We fear what we do not understand,” the woman added. “Though it would be worded as we fear what we choose not to understand. You are of course correct, Dungias, we are the Schatten-Kraythe. A poetically phrased symbol, nothing more,” she added.

  “Not everyone appreciates poetry,” Dungias remarked.

  “No, Nugar’s tastes are quite simple, aren’t they?” Again Dungias was surprised and leaned forward in his seat. “But they suit him and he is the greater for it. Simple tastes, however, will not move the Throne into actions that should have been taken generations before either of us were born.”

  “What actions?”

  “As a shay-spawn, I would have thought you knew.”

  “Assumption becomes only the foolish,” Dungias stated. “You fight for the shay-spawn?”

  “And the Vinthur,” she added. “Our people h–”

  “The Vinthur are my people,” Dungias corrected, gazing at the woman. He felt like he was staring at a wall with what he was able to read from her.

  “I apologize,” she said quickly, sounding genuine in what she was saying. “The Malgovi have grown arrogant and have been blinded by their own iro. The truest light of our people came from the unified efforts of our forefathers. Now the Malgovi believe they rule over the Vinthur and cast out their own blood if they cannot manipulate iro-forms.”

  Dungias looked away and leaned back in the chair. He pondered over what had been said and started nodding. “And even though my actions are now over two orbi-terms old–”

  “They are still incredibly significant!” the woman quickly added. “You do not know what you have done, Dungias. But perhaps it is time you were acquainted with what you are.

  “Thuranos,” she called out after depressing a switch on her PC. “Please come in.” Dungias looked to the door to see it slide open, and watched as the man whom he had believed to be in construction stepped into the room, carrying his folded cloak and weapons belt.

  “Master?” Thuranos said as he looked at Dungias and smiled. “It is good to see you again. We feared the worst when we saw them take you… when you let them take you.” Dungias stood up, but did not know what to say. The way the large man carried the cloak and weapons… it was as if he was holding the keys to The Campus, but Thuranos knew nothing of that place. “I kept them safe, Master!” the Malgovi man said, offering up the materials that had been entrusted to him. He did not allow Dungias’ age to register in his thoughts, and there was good reason to doubt he could even see it.

  The young Traveler looked at the nameless woman who quickly gestured, telling him he was welcome to take possession of his things. “I am not worthy of what you have done,” Dungias whispered. “In retrospect, it was wrong of me to include you in these dealings.”
r />   “We are sometimes asked to do more than what we think we could, or should, Master,” Thuranos remarked. “Success or failure are not as important as answering the call. We will never be a unified people if one is not willing to add themselves to another.” Dungias closed his eyes and lowered his head. How a simple sentence could make sense of the most complex situations.

  “Thank you, my Vu-Prin,” Dungias said as he took his belongings. He pulled the cloak out from underneath the weapons belt and Alpha kept the belt afloat until he was done with donning the cloak. He had not yet completed the fastening when Alpha moved the belt toward Dungias’ waist. When he secured the buckle, he took Thuranos into an embrace. “Thank you. Now if you would excuse us, the lady and I have matters to discuss.”

  “Of course, Master!” Thuranos said, quickly backing out of the room. Dungias followed him to the door and waited for the door to close.

  “You brought the man I entrusted my weapons to instead of bringing the weapons yourself,” Dungias stated.

  “He would have died before parting with them,” she replied. “His death would have only served to anger you against us… and rightfully so.”

  “You seem to know a great deal about me,” Dungias said, turning to face the woman. “And I only know the name of your organization and only one of its members.”

  “And to think… you impersonated us so well against Isak Dunrossi,” the woman replied, slowly getting up from her chair. Dungias’ eyes squinted as he tried once more to get an impression from the woman. His probes were rejected well before they reached his target. It was as if she was telling him ‘no’ before he generated the probing effort. “You broadcast our symbol over Tremulan City, along with the transmission codes the Vinthur use to speak secretly with the Throne, and use our name in your actions in liberating Nugar, inciting both the Preceptor and the Throne! It sounds as if you know a great deal about us. After all, we were looking for the Master Traveler, but our attempts had fallen quiet short of objective. We were also looking for the means to prove that a member, if not members, of the Royal Family are in direct and secretive contact with the K’Dalkian Council.”

  “You baffle me,” Dungias admitted, folding his arms and stepping back.

  “This is… unexpected,” she said. “Your reaction to confusion is normally more… emotional. But I am being cruel now. You have more than proven yourself, Dungias.” The woman placed her hands on either side of her helmet and Dungias could hear circuits releasing the locks between the helm and chest plate. The woman lifted the helmet up and shook her head as her long brown hair came down the sides and back of her head. Dungias’ eyes flared wide open as he saw blue streaks in the waves of brown… very familiar blue streaks. His gold eyes locked on a pair of the same color and shine. “Hello, Vu-Prin,” she said softly and her natural voice was the final stroke that made Dungias lean back against the door.

  “Danatra?!”

  There are only two mistakes one can make along the road to truth; not going all the way, and not starting.

  Buddha

  “Dungias,” Danatra said softly. “Perhaps it would be better if you allow me to explain before asking any questions.”

  “Perhaps,” Dungias managed to speak as he nodded his head.

  “Would you care to take a seat?” Danatra offered.

  “You need to concern yourself with the dispensation of facts, my Vi-Prin,” Dungias said in a very excited and much louder voice. Danatra held up her hands in surrender, but it was not enough to calm him. “Do not concern yourself with my comfort. For the matter of this conversation, you are not allowed to express yourself in regards to my comfort!”

  Danatra could feel the change in him. A powerful combination of pain, rage, and fear stirred within him and it seemed as if it was building. “By the Stars, what have I done?!” She moved to her knees and the gesture was perplexing enough to force Dungias to think rather than feel. His brow furrowed in confusion.

  “I mean you no harm,” she said softly as she prostrated herself in front of her Vu-Prin. “I understand what you are feeling and–”

  “How?!” Dungias barked and she jumped from the power in his voice. “How can you know?!”

  “You are right,” she admitted. “That was a very inept approach to this conversation and I beg for your forgiveness. I know in your eyes I have no ground to ask anything of you, but please, Dungias, give me this time. Let me speak to your mind, not your tortured heart.”

  “Give me one reason, Danatra,” Dungias whispered. His hands were ready to fly and deliver the most destructive blows he knew how to form. But he could hear her, his beloved Saru… he could still hear her, see her, smell her… Dungias could still feel her and he knew he was not acting as she would have wished. What stood in front of a kneeling Malgovi was not Saru’s mate, and Dungias had to correct that. With that thought locked into his mind, his hands opened and his shoulders relaxed. Danatra looked up at her Vu-Prin and smiled.

  “Yes, you are Malgovi through and through.” Dungias could hear Danatra, but her lips were not moving. “My Vu-Prin is no animal. His Vi-Prin may very well be, but he is a champion of her hopes and dreams.”

  “You are a telepath,” Dungias concluded.

  “I am more than that, Traveler,” Danatra said. “May I stand?” Dungias did not say a word. He took a long stride toward his Vi-Prin and offered her his hand. She took it and for the first time she felt his strength. She smiled, knowing the claim she had made was more accurate than she had thought. He had indeed become her champion.

  “Indeed,” he remarked. “You are one of the Shadow’s Blade.”

  “We prefer the Schatten-Kraythe,” she replied. “We model our name after those great men and women, but we are not worthy of the same reference. Not yet anyway.” Dungias took a step back, not knowing how to take such talk coming from his sibling. “Will you please sit?” she asked again.

  “Why have me sit?”

  “Because it will be easier for me to say this!” Danatra admitted, closing her eyes.

  “You ask a great deal, Danatra.”

  “My sibling, I have not even started.” Dungias took his seat and Danatra took in a very deep breath. She tried to steady herself, but every time she looked into Dungias’ eyes, she lost the will to proceed.

  “Would it be simpler to tell me using your mind?” Dungias suggested. Danatra sighed as she felt his genuine concern for her. She shook her head and readied herself for one more effort.

  “Simple is not what I deserve,” she replied. “In fact… activate computer locks.” The door to the room locked into place and iro-barriers encased the room. “Transfer all properties to Z’Gunok Tel Dungias. Verify.”

  “All ship functions are now transferred to Z’Gunok Tel Dungias,” the computer reported. “Sir, do you wish to change course?”

  “Maintain all facilities in place when command was transferred,” Dungias quickly stated. “What are you doing?”

  “Giving you every right to respond in whatever fashion you decide,” Danatra proclaimed.

  “Your taste for the theatrical–”

  “Perhaps if I were to offer you this,” Danatra projected, and the sent voice sounded just like Thought in Dungias’ mind. “Are you beginning to understand?” Dungias took hold of the arms of his chair, but he did not stand up. He sat still and tried to consider what he was being told.

  “I was born with telepathic ability,” Danatra stated. “All of the children of the House Z’Gunok possess strong minds and a potential for the skills thereof. You know of MajiK and how it uses MannA and how iro-form manipu–”

  “Uses EnerJa,” Dungias interrupted. “Get on with it, Danatra!”

  “Well, the applications of the focused and empowered mind are called PsyoniKs, and they are all based on the use of ThoughtWill. It is the only power the Founders did not teach us.”

  “But the Star Chasers tried to,” Dungias added, receiving a bright smile from Danatra. “But you are not quite done
telling what this has to do with me.”

  “We are a few, but not that many,” Danatra continued. “We have had to hide ourselves and our ability. Some of us have sought power and station.”

  “Among the Malgovi?!” Dungias said sarcastically. “Surely you are mistaken!”

  “And we have lost so many due to treachery,” Danatra said, trying to maintain the effort. “So a system was put into play. As a member of the Schatten-Kraythe, you only know your recruiter and the one you recruit.”

  “Does that not slow your organization considerably?”

  “Not when messages travel at the speed of thought,” Danatra replied.

  “Of course,” Dungias nodded. “That was a foolish question.”

  Danatra looked away from her sibling and started to pace. “You are not cleared to recruit until such time as you are… adept enough to engage in… Telepathic Surgery.” She stopped pacing and turned to face Dungias.

  Reading her body language and reviewing her word choice and shaky tones, Dungias was able to make a very quick conclusion. “And I was your testing brain!”

  “I knew you could withstand the possible trauma from a mistake on my part,” Danatra stated. “It is an explanation, my Vu-Prin, but hardly an excuse.”

  “And just how would you practice?”

  “Do you recall the books I threw at you?”

  “Oh, it was more than books!” Dungias said, standing up and pacing. The wound this knowledge struck was still too painful and he had to move. “Do you not recall the good times, Danatra?! The books and the data files… sometimes it was wire-bound parchment and even carved stone!”

  “And I never missed,” Danatra added.

  “And you never missed!” Dungias agreed, hearing the statement for the first time out loud.

  “And your bookshelf held everything I ever threw at you,” Danatra said, drawing close to her Vu-Prin. She feared his rage still, but any action or actions he wanted to take against her were his just due. The least she could do was make it simpler for him to exact a righteous vengeance. “What bookshelf, Dungias?”

 

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