by Vi Voxley
And a few were actual truths that even the Brions themselves hadn't known or weren't sure about.
Back in his youth, Braen and his friends had enjoyed trying out the "hearing a feather drop" trick. They'd locked themselves into a simulation first, with all other sound canceled out. Many of them couldn't do it, but the general and some of his more talented companions had heard it. The sound that a feather made when it hit the ground.
They tried to improve the technique over years, but the trick was that you first had to know there was something so miniscule to listen to.
He was in the room with the most proficient and ruthless killer in history, but Braen didn't take his eyes off Naima's unmoving body. Every inch of him was directed to her, willing her to give him even the smallest sign of life. Anything, to mend the world that was coming apart at seams around him.
The Fearless laughed, clearly enjoying his pain. Braen wasn't about to give up on his gesha. He kept telling himself that the monster needed her to guide it to the lifestone reservoirs once it had killed him.
It was a poor comfort. The enemy didn't make rational decisions and mercy was a word it didn't understand.
It had signed its death warrant a long time ago. Now, the manner of its demise was up to Braen. If it had killed Naima, he'd revert back to the original plan of capturing the enemy instead of slaying it. To lose his gesha was irreversible, but making sure the Fearless suffered for it an eternity would be a bittersweet relief.
My heart…
The four-armed monster stepped towards him. In ways, the enemy reminded Braen of Alona a little. Just like the android, the Fearless looked artificial. The smooth, dark silver skin had to be as strong as it looked or there would have been no use for it.
The beast never chose a form that didn't directly fit its purposes. The four long arms each held a sword, each one different and all of them bloodied.
Braen didn't see Kerven anywhere. Some of the blood might have been his.
He didn't see Alona either.
The red gaze of the Fearless held his, unflinching and unblinking. The enemy wore no armor, clearly it didn't need any. Its tongue slipped out to lick its lips, torn bloody by the fangs.
It was going for a ghastly demeanor. Brions cared nothing for that. They were the ones who scared anyone foolish enough to oppose them into fleeing from the battle field, not the other way around.
"How does that feel, General?" the Fearless asked, approaching with slow, measured paces.
Afraid, said Braen's analytical mind, observing the Fearless. Careful. Playing it safe. It's not sure.
"To see your beloved one like that," the enemy went on. "This is your fault. You brought a little Terran to my world. What did you expect? That one guard and an android would be able to face ME!?"
The last word was roared to him, delivered by a throat that shouldn't have been able to produce sounds like that. The room shook, creaking. Even the floor beneath Braen’s feet moved.
He'd wounded the enemy's pride, it seemed. Braen bared his teeth in a snarl. His valor squares showed nothing, because he felt nothing.
"I know what you plan!" the Fearless roared to him. "I know what your spear carries! That will not work, boy! You will die here, in this miserable, worthless hall of a junk ship and I will watch you die with glee. Be assured your last sight will be of me gnawing on the flesh of your whore!"
Braen still didn't answer. In battle, a true warrior didn't waste his breath on words when everything should have been clear by actions.
He hadn't raised the weapon on guard yet. As long as the slightest possibility remained that Naima was alive, he needed to draw the Fearless away from her and on it came, right at him. The temptation to simply pierce Braen’s armor with the four swords it wielded was too great, as it always was.
Staring death in the eye was the Brion way. The way of the Fearless was to give in to its addiction without a second thought. Ultimately, its biggest enemy was its endless hunger.
It was almost close enough to land a blow with the longest sword. Braen was willing to catch the blade with his teeth if need be. He needed to be sure that the Fearless didn't reach Naima before him.
He refused to accept she was gone. After everything he'd experienced, all they'd been through, the general truly believed that if his gesha was dead, his heart would have stopped in his chest.
The Fearless saw it too. The legendary beast roared with fury.
"You idiot! You're willing to die like that for a female? So be it! Face your end!"
Two things happened at once. The Fearless jumped at him, all the swords aiming for his heart.
And at the very same moment, Braen heard a whimper, nothing more than a small intake of breath from someone who was hurting.
The enemy didn't have time to turn before Braen came to life. The room was buried into darkness now, the long shadows created by Braen’s valor squares reaching Naima like a blanket and covering her from the monster. With a deafening roar, Braen moved so fast it took less than a heartbeat to put himself between his gesha and the enemy.
His heart hadn't beaten a second time before the swords and the spear clashed together in a rain of sparks. Braen could see the glowing red eyes in the blackness before him. There was nothing else.
"Save her!" he bellowed a command, to anyone who would hear.
It was all he could do for her. The most dangerous creature in the galaxy charged at him and in the darkness, they fought.
37
Naima
Naima woke up with a nuclear headache. It was the least of her problems.
She was in complete darkness, surrounded by something that smelled like death, and dragged along on the floor. It was safe to say her situation wasn't ideal.
That was the thing with dreams. They didn't ask for propriety of whether or not they coincided with the reality. Naima remembered fields of green and sunlight in the dream she had been so rudely been awoken from, the complete opposite of what was going on with her now.
She opened her mouth to protest, to scream for help, but someone slapped their hand over her face roughly and they both went completely still.
After a long moment, it started to dawn on Naima that perhaps the person in the dark was, despite the rough-handling, her friend. All around her, she could hear grunts and noise and gunfire, the sounds of battle. Her confused, turned around mind worked swiftly to right itself.
"Forgive me, Miss Jones," Kerven whispered from the shadows, his face much closer to her than she'd expected and not at the presumed angle either.
She startled, but like in tense situations sometimes, her first thought was a funny one.
If we make it through this, Braen will definitely have your head for cuddling me.
"We need to be quiet," the warrior went on as silently as he could as though anyone could hear a goddamn thing through the ruckus in the Chali ship. "The enemy is very near."
The noise was slowly becoming deafening and Naima figured out something she would have gladly not understood. They were not in a corridor and the noises were not coming from the large battle. She couldn't see a damn thing, but judging by what she heard when she started to listen, they were close to being trampled by the final confrontation between the general and the Fearless.
Braen!
Brions had excellent sight and they were the best at fighting in the dark, so it made sense that the room was so pitch black she couldn't make out her own arm two inches before her. It made her shiver head to toe, not to be able to see.
She wanted so badly to call out to Braen, to tell him she was alright – and to ask him if he was. To get any answers as to what the hell was going on, but instead Naima bit her lip. The last thing she wanted was to distract the general.
"How close?" she asked in the most hushed voice she could manage, muffled further by Kerven’s hand.
Kerven didn't reply at once. In the next moment, Naima felt something moving past her right leg. She almost screamed out loud, but the warri
or held her in place, not letting her make a whimper, nor move.
"You don't want to know," he said after what seemed like an eternity. "Listen. We need to move. Say nothing. Do only as I say."
With his hand still slapped across her mouth, Naima nodded. Her heart was beating so fast it felt loud. It was an odd comfort in itself. Perhaps Braen did know she was still out there.
"There is a door five feet to our left. Make yourself as limp as you can. I will carry you."
Naima had oh-so-many protests against that, but she chose staying quiet again. She prayed in her mind to any gods who were feeling like taking calls that Kerven was doing the right thing.
It offered her exactly zero comfort, but she relented.
The world split into two for her. On one hand, there was a fierce, bloody battle going on somewhere in front of her.
Naima could smell blood, refusing to think it could only have been Braen's if it didn't belong to one of the corpses lying around. It definitely smelled fresh. Might have been hers as well, come to think of it.
Every once in a while, she caught glimpses of red eyes, something even the darkness couldn't hide. It reminded her of the ocean on Matthos IV so very much and she put her newfound, relative calmness fully down to her experiences there.
She'd have lost her mind otherwise, because the ocean, at least, had been empty. No sea life, no monsters, not even plants. Here, in the Chali ship, the Fearless was close and most definitely still alive. On the other hand, there was the quiet world of her and Kerven, sneaking around right under the very eyes of the fighters. Brion hearing was as good as their sight. Braen might have noticed what they were doing, but both he and the Fearless sounded furious and entirely consumed by the battle. It was clear they didn't have any time to bother with anyone else but their opponent.
Naima hoped her being there didn't cost Braen his vigilance. She'd rather have died than been the reason the general lost his battle as well as his life.
Kerven stood behind her, slowly pulling her to her feet. With a small tap on her shoulder, Naima let herself fall into his arms.
Like a trust fall, she thought. That’s what I have right now. Trust that he knows better.
Making herself as easy to carry as possible, Naima allowed Kerven to pick her up and carry her out of the room, step by small step. There was terrible moment when the Fearless roared so loudly the room seemed to vibrate and she thought they were caught, but the next second brought forth another howl from the enemy, further that time. It was still so piercing it hurt Naima to hear it.
After that, Kerven practically leaped out of the room, sprinting along the corridor with her still in his arms. He didn't stop until they had turned a corner, only putting her down then.
Braen, Naima thought, looking back. He was buying us time. He still is.
She opened her mouth to ask Kerven what they should do next, when someone grabbed her leg. Naima let out a small scream, fumbling for her gun, and the young warrior moved so fast she didn't see the spear until it stopped inches from a corpse.
Only it wasn't a corpse. Naima's eyes went wide, looking at the horrendous sight in front of her. She'd never before explicitly wished death upon someone, because it would have been a mercy for Sinetha.
"Help me," the trader wheezed, lifting a hand that was little more than a bloody stump. "Help me."
Naima hesitated. Her conscience called upon her to help, but they were in a dire rush. And this woman had given the Fearless all he fought and killed with right now.
"I will," she promised at last. "But we have to go now. Once we've destroyed your androids, I'll send someone for you."
The woman was in pieces, more literally than Naima would have like to see in her condition. The light in Sinetha's eyes hadn't gone out yet. She didn't lower her hand, reaching it for Kerven instead. Her voice was weak, but the gaze of her deep hazel eyes spoke for itself.
"No..." she coughed. "Help me to my station. This monster, it took everything. It killed everyone. I will show it. I will have my revenge."
Naima looked to Kerven in exasperation. As much as she wanted to turn her back on the woman, the Chali might have had a point.
We can use any help we can get, right?
"She could help," she said. "It's her ship, after all and we don't know where Alona is."
Kerven frowned.
"When the Fearless took over Alona, the android knocked you out and carried you away. By the time I got to you, the General was nearing and Alona was nowhere to be seen."
"If the Fearless is out of the harness, Alona should be free," Naima said. "Either way, we can't be sure and we need Sinetha. You need to carry her."
"This is a bad idea," the warrior said with a growl that resembled Braen’s remarkably, looking at the trader. "I'm not heartless. She is. You know that. Who's to say she won't betray us to the Fearless for the hope of her miserable life?"
Sinetha made a sound. It took Naima a few moments to understand the trader was laughing.
"Look at me," she told Kerven. "I would bring this ship crashing down on the bastard's head! Help me! I don't want to die here. You can take me away from here. Prison, anything –"
She trailed off and Naima saw tears beading in the corners of the trader's eyes. Looking at Kerven, the warrior wasn't so easily moved by emotions from the likes of her.
"Take her," Naima ordered, putting authority and confidence into her voice. "As for you, Sinetha. I will speak up for you if this goes well, but if you betray me, I trust you've been threatened enough."
Sinetha laughed again, cackling.
"Girl, after the Fearless – what could you do that's worse? Even your lover is too honorable for the things the Fearless does. I’ve been half-ingested!"
She didn’t finish her thought. Naima was thankful for that.
"You're not helping your case," Naima said, turning to Kerven again: "Bring her. We need to hurry."
Her steps were wobbly, clearly from the concussion she’d received, but every moment brought further clarity.
The warrior was plainly not happy with her plan, but he didn't argue with her. With surprising gentleness, he lifted the trader into his arms and they moved on. Naima forced down a gag, seeing how much of Sinetha was left behind. The only reason the woman was still alive was because of how much of her had been replaced with machinery to begin with.
They rushed through the corridors now, fear gripping Naima's heart like a vice. Fighting a Fearless in the darkness was insanity! Braen had an almost impossible task to begin with, but he'd thrown the room into shadows to give her a chance of escaping.
She hadn’t known the valor squares could do that, but in the last moment before they exited the room with Kerven, she’d seen that the source of the shadows was clearly Braen.
She suppressed a shiver, hoping he hadn't bought her life with his own. Her hands went to her belly, forcing herself be strong for her child's father.
Just today, she told herself. We only have to get through today. Tomorrow, we'll be a family and all of this will be like a bad dream.
Fear and determination drove Naima on despite feeling sick and horrified by what was going on around her. Even then, Kerven was faster than her with the trader in his lap. She had to run to keep up with him, picking quieter hallways and avoiding noise.
It seemed the battle hadn't really reached the ship yet. Naima knew that Braen had ordered a perimeter to be set as soon as his warriors reached the mothership, but it was too quiet even for that.
The engine room looked much the same as an undetermined amount of time ago. Naima's head started to hurt just from seeing the place. She flinched, wondering if Alona had tried to stay its hand not to hurt her very much. It certainly didn't feel that way.
"There," Sinetha pointed, motioning towards the same console Alona had used.
Kerven set her down next to a console and the trader shoved her mechanical arm into the socket much like Alona had.
"The monster didn't take this one,
" she said bitterly. "I guess I should be thankful he couldn’t use it as a toothpick."
In the light of the engine, Naima got the first good look at her. The Chali was a tall, thin, middle-aged woman with long brown hair, half of which was missing now. Her face was impossible to guess at from under the mass of blood and torn flesh. The only distinguishable features about her were the eyes, burning with loathing.
Naima watched her work, waiting with bated breath. The screens were filled with numbers and symbols she didn't understand, but it was clear the trader was shutting them off one by one. Naima didn’t speak Chali well enough to be able to distinguish the words quickly enough, though she’d always had a bit of a talent for languages.
Another loud roar echoed across the ship, heard even in the other end.
A shot went past Naima so closely she felt the burning heat of it. Turning around, she saw Alona crawling to her on broken legs, a gun in her hand. The android looked genuinely mad for the first time Naima had ever seen it.
The barrel was pointing straight at Sinetha, who looked on with an almost disinterested expression. To Naima, she resembled a mother thoroughly disappointed with her daughter.
Alona looked much the same, the other way around.
"Step away from the console," the android said. "Naima, she'll kill us all."
"She promised to help," Naima argued and before Alona could say anything, added: "Right now, we need all the help we can get. What happened to you?"
She rushed over to the android, pulling it to sit against the giant base of the engine, with a view on everything in the room. Alona still stubbornly held onto the gun. Naima had to holster hers to help the android.
"I should have known the Fearless would try to overtake me," Alona said. "I thought I could defend myself. Disengage. It was so fast. One second I was myself and then I was only a shell again."
Its hateful eyes drifted to Sinetha, but the trader was paying attention to the screens again now and didn't spare it even a look.
"I'm sorry I hit you," Alona said. "I tried to spare you and keep the baby safe. I carried you to the harness and from there, the Fearless ordered me to destroy myself."