by James Thomas
A black cape adorned with the Grax army symbol and colors was draped over the creature’s back. It shrieked at the scents of thousands of Tourians emanating from the tunnels. With a nod from the corporal, the Ice Vekoon was released. The animal started to turn back towards the guards who raised their torches forcing the creature back toward the passageway.
“Lieutenant, shouldn’t we release a second Ice Vekoon since they hunt better in twos, and it’s the standard protocol?” questioned the Sergeant. That was the usual procedure, so it seemed odd that they were deviating from it.
“Yes, I agree, but let’s see what one does first. No need to overdo it. You’re talking about thousands of Tourians in the tunnels,” said the Lieutenant. “Should be easy enough for one Ice Vekoon to find. Anyway, I’ll let the chief know.” However, he had no intention of reporting it. At least not right away.
The sergeant saluted the lieutenant, who rendered the salute back and then turned away before donning his helmet. At that moment, the sergeant noticed a small distinctive heart shape mark a few millimeters in width with an arrow through it. It was faintly etched near the helmet’s backside, where it was well-hidden from direct view. He had seen it before, but never on an officer.
19
FREE TO RUN
The ships were ancient; to put it into milder terms. They were used to transport Chief Bandor’s descendants to the Tourian Void on their original pilgrimage. However, over time entire sections had been replaced, leaving a hodgepodge of junk parts and misaligned scrap pieces of all colors and shades. To make matters worse, most of the fleet had remained unused since the end of the Tri-Sun War, leaving the ships’ working conditions unknown. Only a junkyard would have made the ships easier on the eyes.
“Ensign Brock, report when everyone’s up” ordered Commander Devlin. The crews had fanned out among the ships, with two aircrew per ship. Given the age of each vessel that was asking for the impossible, but it was the mission . . . impossible, even suicidal, yet they were doing it.
***
Mac stepped onto the bridge, walking to where he thought the communication panel might be located. “Test, test,” said Mac. “Do you have me, Chief Mate?”
At first, nothing came back, then the coms crackled with a raspy voice saying. “Captain, I have you five by five. This old relic, well it’s old, but looks like the Tourians kept this trash heap in running condition.”
“What do you mean, looks like they kept this trash heap in running condition?” asked an elderly man who looked like a model for a skeleton as he stepped forward from the side bulkhead. “This ship and all the other ones are in their prime, so show some respect, you Bandorian bandit.”
“Whoa,” said the chief mate as he stepped back, startled. “Who are you?” He would have pulled out his weapon, but his holster was empty. He had left it on a nearby table behind the man.
“Who’s that?” asked Mac over the COM.
“Looks like we have a stowaway, captain,” replied the chief mate.
“I’m no stowaway!” said the elderly man. “You Bandorians never seem to know what’s yours and what is Tourian.”
From behind the elderly man, Mac burst through the door with his weapon drawn, pointing it at the stowaway.
“Stay right there,” said Mac. “Very still.”
“I’ve been here the last fifty cycles, so the staying part is not so hard. Yet, you two and all your goons suddenly seem interested in my ships,” said the elderly man with disdain. He continued with his words after spitting on Mac’s foot to show that he was not happy seeing another Bandorian onboard. “How did you ever find my ships after being hidden all these years?”
“Your ships?” replied the chief mate. “Where’s your crew then?”
“Just me and my robots,” replied the elderly man. “That’s enough to keep them in prime condition.”
Mac laughed, before adding, “Well, that makes sense of how they have been so perfectly maintained. My trash bin has less dents than your handiwork. And that’s after the garbage truck ran over it several times.”
“Are they all operational?” asked the chief mate.
“I’m not answering that question or anything else until your goon lowers that weapon and answers my question,” demanded the elderly man as he prepared to spit again.
“From your Living God,” answered Mac. “Now it’s your turn. Do these tin cans work?”
The elderly man paused looking at Mac surprised by his answer. He was sizing him up against the truth. It was a good thing too, since at his age, he was quickly running out of spit. Shaking his head in disgust, he turned to a screen on the wall and before Mac could reach him, the old man had disabled the ship. Systems began to shut down. “Good luck bypassing my lockouts. Even with Bandor technology, it will take you days to bypass my codes,” stated the elderly man.
“Wait, we answered your questions,” said the chief mate.
“My God is dead—so you lie,” said the elderly man.
“I don’t have time for this,” yelled Mac. “Your Boy God is nothing to me, alive or dead.”
Reports of the other ships shutting down flooded in over Mac’s brick.
“He’s alive?” asked the elderly man after thinking about it. He had been alone for a while, so he hoped it was true.
Mac was his usually blissful self, and he wasn’t pleased that he had to convince the man, but his chief mate had gone into the silent mode and the mission would be doomed if he didn’t do something. It would only be a matter of time before the space station figured out that they had no orders. “Well . . . yes. He would have to be that to tell us.” He cleared his throat, “Alive that is . . .”
“Yes,” added the chief mate breaking his silence.
“You talked to him directly?” asked the elderly man.
Mac was going to have to say it, so he was not happy. “Your boy God talked to our ensign . . . who is . . . is . . . well . . . trustworthy.” He swallowed hard, making sure his pride went all the way down this throat.
“An Ensign,” replied the elderly man. “Kind of young if I understand the rank structure.”
“Ninety-nine,” said Ensign Brock “We have had reports of ninety-nine ships going offline. Can anyone tell me what happened?”
Mac sighed. “Can’t you just take my word for it and restore the power? We’re on a rescue mission to free your people.”
The elderly man had been entirely by himself since the Grax had enslaved his people. He had lost all hope until that point, but nonetheless, he had continued with his now meaningless maintenance duties. He was a lost soul waiting to be found or fade away.
“What proof do you have . . . away from you two that my God lives?” asked the man.
“Fine,” said Mac, giving in completely to what he thought was left of his pride. “Ensign Brock, this is Mac. I know the reason for the power loss.”
***
Ensign Brock cringed at the sound of Mac’s voice. He was wondering what offensive remarks Mac was going to say toward him over the common frequency. “Yes, Mac,” was all Ensign Brock said, in a monotone voice.
“Well, Ensign, humor me here,” said Mac, “How exactly did you know these ships were here?”
Ensign Brock nearly choked on his own tongue. He was not sure how to reply to the question. It seemed simple enough, but why? “Mac, you know why,” he replied.
“Again,” said Mac, “Humor me with the reason and you will then understand why the power is out.”
“Mac,” interjected Commander Devlin. “What seems to be the issue?”
“Don,” replied Mac. “I assure you I’m not messing with anyone; I just need to get the answer, specifically over the radio and from the ensign.”
Mac was at his limit. He unclicked the coms. “Can’t I just tell him I need proof? This seems like a waste of time.”
“I need proof independent of you,” replied the elderly man.
“Okay . . . fine,” said Mac before he pressed the com sw
itch again.
“Look Ensign, I’m not messing with you and I just need the name of the person who told you the whereabouts of these ships, then the power will be restored. Simple enough, right!”
There was a long pause in the coms before the answer came back. “The Boy God, Sadar Tourian told me how to find them.”
Mac turned toward the elderly man. “Well?”
The elderly man pressed a few buttons on the screen waking the ships. “I’ll help you if this is a real rescue of my people.”
“Can you operate the holds to take maximum passengers?” asked Mac to the elderly man.
“Well, it’s not going to be a smooth operation, but I think I can get them on when the time comes. We Tourians have grown over the years.”
“I need it to be smooth, so work some miracle with my Chief Mate,” order Mac.
“You bet, Captain,” replied the Chief Mate.
***
It had been a short time since he had last been called Captain, but it felt good to be back in the position he earned so many years ago. Commander Johnson would now be the fleet commodore.
“We’re missing a name,” said Mac.
“Captain, what ya mean? asked the Chief Mate. “His name is Von, if that’s what you mean?”
“No . . . a task force name. Make all official since we are heading into the abyss,” spoke Mac.
“Yeah, like the scrapyard,” joked the Chief Mate.
Mac chuckled to himself. “Yeah, I see what you mean. I need to think that one through more.”
20
FROM DARK TO LIGHT
Robert walked side by side with Kilian, treating her as his equal. In his eyes, they had both been misjudged in a hopeless situation that was out of their own control. Plus, she had the brightest lantern, and Robert wanted to make sure he could see the Ice Vekoon before anyone else.
Aazar walked closely behind them, keeping Kilian under his careful watch. He did not see any purpose in her leading the group through what seemed like a random maze of tunnels and caverns. Yes, his God wanted her to lead them out of the mines and he had made sure his wishes were known to all his people, but Aazar was going to make sure that Kilian followed up on her promise to his God this time.
“We’ve been walking for hours. Where are we going?” asked Robert.
“Across, but under,” replied Kilian. She was happy to have someone to talk to, but every so often, she would look back, hoping for a glimpse of her daughter, when the long, winding path became parallel to itself. Then she would catch Aazar’s scornful stare and turn her head back to the task at hand.
“That’s confusing, if I may say,” said Robert.
“She means across the mountains, but below their base. These tunnels go for miles in every direction. They are used for mining ion crystals to run the Grax ships,” explained Aazar. “Though I was never able to find a way out, it seems Kilian has slipped out a few more times than I have noticed. Who knows what else she has done by herself to save her own skin over that of our kinsfolk?”
“I’ve changed,” said Kilian as her voice trailed off. She was tired, and fighting Aazar was beyond her strength.
Robert shifted the conversation to get Kilian to relax a little. He understood the pressure. “Not a great place to live, ice and all,” he said. “Why these Ice Vekoons seek the darkness and cold, I do not understand.”
“It was once a beautiful place,” said Kilian, “The surface, that is, but now it’s frozen and the only place to survive is in the mines. There are other animals down here if you stop and listen. They have adapted ever since the Graxs’ planet’s star started dying. The Ice Vekoon seek shelter as we do and they also seek out food, regardless of what or who it is . . .”
“Quiet, Kilian, and keep focused on your path. I can’t have you leading us the wrong way again,” said Aazar. “Traitor,” he added bitterly, making sure she clearly understood her place, even on their way to freedom. She would never be free in his mind.
Robert did not appreciate how Aazar treated Kilian, traitor or not. The situation reminded him of the Devlin boy and him, but in reverse. Robert struggled against his feelings and the meaning of being a traitor, questioning if the connotation could be different among cultures separated only by Space, though a great distance. He particularly wrestled with the relationship of the Tourians and the fact that they were Bandorian descendants. Robert debated whether he has also misjudged Joe as he felt Aazar did to Kilian?
A sudden shriek from in front of them made everyone stop. Then, a shriek from behind seem to answer the first.
“I don’t like the sound of that,” said Robert. “Was that an echo?”
“No, there’s two,” replied Kilian. She waved for everyone to be quiet. Hushes passed back among the chain of people.
Kilian did not wait to confer with Aazar. She knew what to do. “Robert, you need to hurry. Turn up there quickly. Aazar, you too, head in that direction. It leads up towards an opening and your freedom. I need to stay here to buy time for our people.”
“No way, Traitor. You’re staying with me,” retorted Aazar.
But Kilian was not having it. “I don’t have time for this,” she insisted. “Yes, I’m a traitor. You won’t let me forget. But I have changed, so let me prove it. Aazar, please! Lead our people forward to the surface while I try to protect them. We don’t have much time!”
Aazar looked at Kilian trying to gauge her . . . only to exhale with frustration. “Okay! Go, Robert, I guess we don’t have a choice. Kilian did lead us away from the Grax, but remember, it doesn’t matter what you do in view of our people. It matters what choices you make when you’re not being watched. That is how you will be judged.”
Robert and Aazar disappeared upward and her people followed. The shrieks were getting louder as the Ice Vekoon closed in on their prey. Kilian kept one eye forward with her lantern cutting through the darkness, looking for any sign of the creature while hoping for one last glimpse of her daughter and husband. But it did not happen, and the last of her people passed by. Not one single person looked her way, completely shunning her.
***
Kilian had made her peace with herself, for she knew what had to be done. She was not going to do it for her people this time, but for her daughter, who would forever know her mother as a traitor. Kilian knew the Ice Vekoon would wait and then pick people off from the back.
“My lord,” said Kilian. “Did you hear any shrieks?”
“No,” replied Sadar. “Are they gone?”
“No, those creatures are lurking, waiting for us to pass. Then they will pick us off one by one,” said Kilian.
“And why are you not leading our people from the front? They need to see you as they are freed from this place,” said Sadar.
“My lord, I appreciate what you are doing, but I will always be a traitor. Robert and Aazar now lead the way,” said Kilian. “It’s just straight up from here.”
“Great, the guy who thinks I’m a traitor leads,” said Joe.
“It seems both of us have one thing common then,” answered Kilian.
“You will go to the top,” demanded Sadar.
“My Lord . . .,” she started to say as a creature shrieked, then jetting out of the darkness fifty meters away. It was closing the distance between them.
Kilian selflessly jumped in front with a fire torch, distracting the Ice Vekoon. Joe and Sadar seemed stunned by her actions.
“My Lord, run! I will distract it and stay behind you,” said Kilian. But as Joe and Sadar moved away from her, a second Ice Vekoon came out of the dark, blocking her escape.
The two creatures tried to stay out of the light, which blinded them amidst the darkness they were accustomed to. However, their shrieks were ear piercing.
Joe grabbed another nearby torch and tried to help Kilian.
“Go!” yelled Kilian. “We are no match for them. Help my people. I will stay behind and lead them off.”
The other Tourians at the end of the li
ne pushed forward, but seemed more surprised by Kilian’s actions than scared by the Ice Vekoon. She was being heroic.
A young girl immerged from the end of the group distressed.
“Mommy,” she cried as her father tried to pull her back to safety.
Kilian turned to see her little Susan. Smiling at her daughter, Kilian turned and thrust her lantern forward, making the nearest creature step back. Her actions were in vain as the Ice Vekoon changed direction, lunging toward Kilian’s daughter.
“Go my Lord. Take my daughter with you. Go now!” yelled Kilian over the shrieking animals as the other creature lunged in her direction.
“I got her,” yelled Joe. He and Kilian’s husband had to drag Susan, who screamed, “Mommy!” repeatedly.
All the Tourians were now in the tunnel, climbing upward. Sadar seemed distressed by the situation, not knowing what to do. Joe reached out with his free hand to grab Sadar’s arm, but the God resisted. Joe felt like a rope in a tug of war as the girl’s father pulled from the other side of his daughter.
The situation was changing quickly. Both Ice Vekoons once again surrounded Kilian. Then a third stepped out of the darkness toward Sadar and Joe, near the upward tunnel. It was wearing a black Grax cape, unlike the other two creatures.
Kilian stepped back trying to split the difference between the three. The Grax Ice Vekoon seemed to be defending its territory against the other two, giving everyone a moment to move.
“Kilian, come with us now,” said Sadar.
“Go, my Lord. It’s too late for me. I do not deserve such forgiveness after what I have done. Someone has to block this tunnel.”
“Kilian, take this,” said Joe tossing her a grenade.
“Go now,” she yelled again. “Tell her I love her.”
“Mommy!” Killian heard Susan’s anguished cries echoed over the noisy commotion of the other Tourians fleeing the creatures.