by A A Warren
Males and females of various races, clad in the barest of swimsuits, sidled through the crowd. He could hear them hawking their wares in a hundred languages… Wine, narcotic dust, companionship. Judging by the moans he heard around the chamber, and the bodies thrashing in the water, the pleasures of the flesh were a popular commodity at the baths.
“When was the last time this water was cleaned?” Talon asked, as he stepped around a puddle of noxious smelling pink liquid. A rubbery tentacle slithered from a nearby pool and caressed his leg. He swatted it away. A disappointed moan bubbled up from the liquid, as the limb slid back below the surface.
Jula gave him her frosty smile, and continued leading them towards a pair of columns in the rear of the chamber. “I wouldn’t know. My master rents a private pool here. He does not bathe in the muck and filth of these commoners.”
“He must be a wealthy man,” Talon muttered.
Jula’s eyes darted from his axe to the blades hanging from his belt. “You told the guard you fought in the arena. You know of the Sorari?”
He nodded. “I do. Battle Sisters, female mercenaries. Fierce warriors. I’ve never fought one of your order, but I know your reputation.”
She nodded. “We do not sell our services cheaply. Thermae could afford to hire me. That should tell you all you need to know about him.”
“It tells me the man can’t fight his own battles.”
For a brief instant, the woman’s frozen smile seemed to thaw. Her eyes flashed, and she looked up at him from beneath thick, dark lashes. “Perhaps when your business with Thermae is finished, we could spar for a few rounds? It’s been a long time since I… exerted myself.”
“Oh, I’m sure you could teach him a few tricks,” Salena said. Talon glanced over at her, but her expression was unreadable.
They drew near a pair of columns at the far end of the dome. Guards flanked the shadowy entrance, but they lowered their weapons at the sight of Jula. She led them through the columns and down a spiral staircase. Their footsteps echoed through the darkness, as they descended to the lower levels. The light below was soft and dim. The noise of the crowd above faded to a distant murmur. The air smelled of smoke and incense.
Finally, they stepped into an oval chamber. The entire roof of the dome was a single glow sphere, and it pulsed with soft, rose colored light. A bubbling pool of water dominated the center of the room. The liquid was stained red by bath salts, and looked almost like blood in the dim glow from above.
A lanky man with wrinkled skin stood in the center of the pool, facing away from them. He puffed on a curved metal vape-pipe, and a trail of sweet-scented mist drifted from the corner of his mouth. He turned, and regarded Talon with a single, beady eye.
Jula held out her arm. “May I present Rog—”
“You can drop the act, Jula,” the man growled. “She knows who I am.”
He turned away from them, and waded out of the pool. A pair of servants covered his dripping body in a cloth tunic. He belted it closed at the waist.
He turned to face them, and took a deep puff from the pipe. “Karl Aroyas, at your service. Purveyor of fine archeological artifacts and treasures from the ancient world.
As the smoke cleared, Talon finally saw the man’s face clearly.
Ruddy, pock-marked skin, wiry gray hair… and a pair of angry red scars, slashing down the left side of his face.
Talon’s crimson eye began to glow. He grabbed his head, as his vision blurred and shifted. With his normal eye, he saw the man, Aroyas, standing before him. But within the crimson orb, he saw something else. A vision, another dream… a snippet from his shrouded past.
He saw this man, Aroyas, leaning over him. His lips were curled in a sadistic grin. Talon was frozen, helpless… he couldn’t move, could barely breathe. His breath misted before him, on a glass panel of some kind. He was trapped, in the cylinder… the cylinder he had been found in.
Talon took a stumbling step forward. Jula tensed.
“What is wrong with him?” she snapped. Her hands slipped to a golden chain, coiled around her waist.
Talon’s vision went red… the dream took over, blocking out all other images. A necklace was dangling from the old man’s clenched fist, just out of reach beyond the frosted glass of the life pod.
The pendant was a jade triangle. Three lines, meeting at a starburst in the center. The symbol Salena had shown him.
The Eye of R’Kur.
Salena’s eyes began to glow. “Oh no,” she whispered. “I see it too… I didn’t realize…”
Talon grabbed his head and screamed. He ripped his cloak from his body, exposing his bare chest.
At the sight of the emerald claw snaking across Talon’s skin, Aroyas’ eyes opened wide in surprise. He took a step backwards. “No,” he muttered. “It can’t be!”
Talon looked up at him. His vision cleared. His mouth stretched open in a ferocious snarl, and his crimson eye lit up the room with its baleful glare.
“You,” he growled. “I remember now. It was you who found me. It was you who sold me to the blood pits!”
With a single fluid motion, Talon drew his axe and activated the fiery blade. “It was you who made me a slave!”
Aroyas stumbled backwards, as Talon raised the axe over his head. Bellowing a fierce war cry, he lunged towards the frightened old man.
Chapter Sixteen
Talon charged forward, the blazing axe held high overhead.
“Talon, no!” Salena screamed. But his fury was focused on the cowering man before him. His free arm shot out, and his fingers wrapped around Aroyas’ throat. He ignored Salena’s plea and tightened his grip. The muscles in his arm rippled as he hefted the struggling man into the air. The blade of his plasma axe crackled and hummed, as he swung it down at Aroyas' skull.
Suddenly, with a loud snap, Jula’s chain coiled around his throat. Twirling her body, the tall, slender woman yanked his weight backwards. Talon’s neck bulged, as the tight metal coil bit down into this throat. Growling with rage, he dropped Aroyas into the bubbling red water. His fingers reached up, clawing at the metal links that dug into his flesh.
Spinning around, he slashed through the chain with his blazing axe. As he severed the links, the dangling whip fell loose around his neck.
Jula cracked her half of the chain like a whip. The remaining links of metal stiffened, becoming a slim, sharp blade. She wielded it like a sword, raising it with both hands to deflect his next attack.
Talon swung his axe up, but before he could strike he felt cool, slim hands touch his temples from behind.
“Talon, please!”
He spun around and found himself face to face with Salena. He met her glowing gaze head on, and wobbled on his feet. He felt himself falling forward, as if drawn into the blue void of her stare.
The vivid glow surrounded him, caressed him. He felt himself tumbling, falling through space… Plummeting down a well of glowing energy. The light surrounding him faded as he plunged deeper. It was replaced with cold, impenetrable blackness. He felt wind whipping through his hair, frost nipping at his bare skin.
“Enough!” he bellowed. His breathing was ragged, and his nerves jangled with adrenaline. He felt pure, concentrated rage flowing through his body. It heated the blood coursing through his veins. “No more sorcery! No more of your tricks!”
“No tricks,” she said. Her voice was soft and quiet in his ears. She sounded as if she was standing next him. “I have something to show you. Open your eyes.”
Talon’s eyes fluttered open. A cold, gray haze surrounded him. They were hovering together, once again, staring down at the surface of the planet. He thought back to when Salena had first visited his chambers, remembered the waves of Koral crashing around them… The turbulent air, charged with the crackling ions of lightning.
This was different.
The planet beneath them was dead and lifeless. It was a cold, ash covered rock, barren and empty for as far as the eye could see. As he stared a
t the flat, charred surface below, his breathing calmed.
“Another illusion,” he muttered. “Is that all you have to offer me?”
“Koral was no illusion,” she said. Her voice lowered, and the glow in her eyes dimmed. “And neither is this. Since we bonded, you have shown me glimpses of your past, Talon. You have shared your pain. This is my past, my pain. This… This was my home. My people’s home.”
Glowing symbols flared to life around her hands. Talon tasted bitter, chalky dust in the air as they floated lower and lower. Wisps of smoky vapor drifted past his eyes, and the cold, lifeless wind bit at his face. The ground rushed up to meet them. The planet's surface was an endless, flat expanse of black ash and fractured rocks. It stretched off into the gray, shrouded horizon.
He felt his feet touch the ground. Salena collapsed to her knees next to him. He looked down at her, and felt the last embers of his rage smolder and fade. The flames of his anger were extinguished by a single tear that dripped down her lavender cheek.
“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice gruff but affectionate. He rested his hand on her shoulder. She reached down and grabbed a handful of black ash, letting the dust pour through her fingers.
“You asked how old I am?” she murmured. “In truth, I have forgotten. I was alive when the Star Cross Throne fell. When the great kingdoms fractured and split, and war consumed the galaxy.”
Talon narrowed his eyes. “I know little of history, but that had to be ages ago.”
She stood up, and surveyed the bleak landscape with her glowing eyes. “In the aftermath, my people withdrew here, to our home. We cut off all ties with the rest of the galaxy. We thought ourselves above the younger races. They were squabbling children, slaughtering themselves in the cold depths of space. Our technology was superior, our planetary defense shield impenetrable. The dark energy we wielded was more powerful than any of their technology. We thought we could wait them out. Let them extinguish themselves from the stars. Then we would emerge, to lead the survivors in a new era of peace. We would be the saviors of the galaxy, if we but waited long enough.”
“Then what happened here?”
She kicked at a small lump of black rock. “The other races did not see us as saviors. They saw us as a threat. Some of them formed an alliance. Their technology advanced. They developed weapons that could pierce our shields, overcome our defenses. And finally, one day, they struck.”
The wind picked up and whipped at her hair. Talon squinted as the dust whirled around his face. For a long moment, there was silence between them.
“There is no honor in this kind of war,” he finally said.
Salena uttered a sharp, bitter laugh. “I have seen many wars in my life. But I have seen precious little honor.”
She turned to face him. “Talon, I brought you here for a reason. If Sartarus perfects his weapon, if he unleashes it again, the destruction and death he will cause… What happened here will happen on thousands of worlds, millions, perhaps. But you can help me stop it. You said you desire freedom above all else? You are free now. Free to make a choice. Can you put your rage aside? Will you help me stop him?”
Talon took one last look at the blasted rocks surrounding them. He saw the skeletal remains of buildings, crumbling in the distance, half hidden by the dusty haze in the air.
His eyes met hers. He nodded.
“For now, I will help you. When this is finished. I make no promises.”
She reached up and touched his face. “Thank you. Now let us return.” A faint smile touched her lips. “I suspect Aroyas will be eager to accept my offer.”
Talon felt the cold, harsh air whirling around him disappear. The bleak, dead planet faded to darkness, and he was once again pulled into the warm, glowing well of Salena’s eyes.
Talon’s eyes snapped open. He was back in reality, standing in the domed private bath. His plasma axe still hummed in his hands, and Aroyas still thrashed in the bubbling crimson water. Jula crouched a few meters away, perched on the balls of her feet like a jungle cat ready to pounce. She wielded the remains of her golden chain, and glared at him with her frosty sapphire stare.
He felt Salena’s hand grip his bicep. His muscles relaxed, and she gently pushed his arm down, lowering his axe. He sighed, and thumbed the activator switch on the hilt. The blade powered down, and he slid the weapon back into his harness.
“My temper got the better of me,” he muttered. “Let us complete our business and be on our way.”
Jula relaxed. She stood up, and pressed a button on the handle of her whip. The metal chain went slack once again, and she wrapped it around her waist.
“Well,” she said, glancing up at him. A light pink flush colored her pale cheeks. “That was certainly invigorating.”
“Hundskak!” Aroyas cursed, as he wiped strands of his wet hair from his face. “Are you bloody insane? Why, I could have—”
Salena removed a pouch from her belt. It jangled as she held it up. “Aroyas, my dear, it would be in all our best interests to put this unpleasantness behind us. Don’t you agree?”
She tossed the pouch through the air. The old man threw up a dripping arm and caught it. He glared at Talon for a second, then lowered his gaze to the pouch as his shaking fingers tugged it open. The glimmer of the chips inside reflected a mosaic of colors across his face. His lips curled into a grin.
He glanced up at Salena. “Your plaything caused a ruckus. I should charge you more.”
Salena focused her glowing stare on him, and her smile left her lips. “That is the amount we agreed upon. If it is insufficient, I shall take my business elsewhere. There are plenty of rocks for raiders like you to hide under. I doubt I’d even have to leave Bakala to find another—”
“Bah, don’t get your girdle in a twist, lady. Fine, fine. Let’s wrap this up. Jula…”
He tossed the pouch to his bodyguard. The woman caught it with a deft hand, and clipped it to the belt at her waist. Then she tapped at a few keys on her wrist unit.
The bubbling in the pool increased. Aroyas waded out once again, and shuffled to a small bar nestled in the curved wall. As he poured wine into a silver goblet, Talon watched a dark shape rise up from the crimson water.
A small hauler mech surfaced from the pool. A deluge of red droplets streamed off its insectile body. Its glowing lifter wings buzzed and hummed as it drifted over them. Beneath its narrow body, six metal legs clamped around a sealed dura-plas cargo pod.
Aroyas gulped his wine, then licked his lips. “As promised. A collection of pre-colonial artifacts. Rare pieces, held back from a job I did for the Tygon Dominion.”
“A job you did for Lord Sartarus,” Salena said, eying the mech as it descended to the tiled floor next to the pool. “And his keeper, High General Kyr.”
Aroyas shrugged. “Not interested in politics. Their chips glow as bright as anyone’s.”
Talon glared at the man. “Then why are you hiding here, under a false name? Perhaps you fear the same fate will befall you as your comrades?”
Aroyas took another swig of wine. “My reasons are my own,” he muttered. “Do you want the stuff or not?”
The mech released the container, then hummed up the stairs. It disappeared into the shadowy chambers above. Salena approached the container and waved her hand over a glowing panel in its side. A series of servo motors hissed and clicked. The lid slid open, revealing the innards of the coffin-shaped container.
A white, preservative mist filled the pod, hiding the contents within. Salena reached into the swirling vapor. She pulled out a thin tablet, about an arm’s length along either side. The artifact's surface gleamed with a dull, silver sheen.
“It’s so light,” she murmured. “What kind of metal is this?”
Aroyas gulped more wine, and shook his head. “No idea. Can’t even say for sure that it is metal. Ship’s sensors couldn’t break down the molecular structure.”
She ran her fingers over the faint symbols etched into the surface of t
he material. “Talon, come look at this. The symbol… the one hidden in your mark. I see it here!”
Talon dropped to one knee and examined the other contents of the container. He fished through more fragments of the strange, metal-like substance. His probing fingers found a small crystal case. He lifted it out from the chest, watching it sparkle in the soft light.
Salena set the slab down on the floor. Using her wrist unit, she began to scan the rows of symbols into a database.
“You say you found these near the pylons you sold to Sartarus?” she asked, studying the display on her wrist.
Aroyas nodded. “Yeah. I found scores of tablets like these. Sartarus took most of them, along with the bodies.”
Talon glanced up. “Bodies?”
A haunted expression filled the man’s gaunt face. He stared back at Talon, but almost seemed to be looking through him. It was as if he was peering back into the murky shadows of his memory.
“I excavated dozens of these temples, scattered across countless worlds," Aroyas said. "All of them filled with life pods… Hundreds of them, stacked for as far as the eye could see. But the bodies inside… they were all withered corpses. Dead for centuries, at least. You were the only living soul we ever found. And if I had turned you over to Sartarus, you can bet you would have joined the rest of your people, whoever they were.”
Talon grit his teeth, but said nothing. He turned back to the small, shimmering case he held in his hands. He opened it, revealing a jade pendant hanging from a leather cord.
The Eye of R’Kur.
“This belongs to me,” he said, his voice hard as a steel blade.
“Take it,” the old man muttered. “You paid for it.”
Talon slipped the necklace over his head. The smooth, carved jade brushed against his skin. It felt warm and soothing to the touch.
Salena lifted another tablet from the container. Talon glanced over at it as she began scanning the rows of symbols. He felt a tingling sensation in his temples. His crimson eye began to glow once again.