Malik felt the pulse grow stronger the closer they got to the mountain. Hosk and Rikt felt it as well. They didn't tell him. They didn't need to. The awareness bled off of them in waves. They walked slowly, each step carefully considered, but not second-guessed.
They traveled like this for sixty meters until they reached the foot of the low mountain rise.
Hosk's exo-frame hummed as it processed. The Drogerd listened for a moment, then ran her thinly-furred fingers over the display that shone from her gauntlet. "There's an opening behind these rocks," she said finally. "It's narrow, too narrow for the ship's sensors to have picked up under all this garbage."
Malik, Rikt, and Hosk stood an equal distance from one another and from the debris. They stretched out their hands. Malik fell into himself and pushed the Rise out and over the rocks until he felt each curve and edge. The rock cracked and shifted. Seconds later, the path cleared and out from it came a wave of oppressive intent.
Malik looked into his crewmen and confirmed that the feeling was felt by each of them as well. Silently, they debated whether to go forward or go back and get the others. If it is a Shogol Priest, Malik expressed to them, then we can't let him escape to alert the Network of Celwik's lost cargo. Joer and Rikt agreed and the three of them stepped into the path toward the swelling tide of power.
Chapter Six
6
The further they walked on the path, the more that Malik became certain that this wave he felt was old, certainly not the work of a Shogol Priest, Deacon, or any other high-ranking Necris-fueled Network official. This was older than both the Network and the Alliance. It may even be older than the Liothern Collective, or at least older than when the first human hands shaped its course.
A steep groove cut a path up the center, splitting the formation into two. The three of them traveled for twenty meters along the narrow corridor. As they walked, the pock-marked walls smoothed. The ground, once hazardous and random, leveled and became predictably measured. Patterned, even.
The sheer surface rose above them on both sides until all that was visible was a single jagged streak of sky, like a bolt of lightning frozen in place.
The passage continued in total darkness.
Malik tapped the controls on his exo-frame and it tweeted its acceptance of his command. Thin vertical and horizontal lines spread out over the walls and floor. At each point in the process, it noted changes in depth, slope, and composition. The computer then relayed small shining beacons to Malik's 3D visor. He tapped two more commands and uploaded the data to his crewmates' exo-frames.
With the cavern mapped, they marched an additional sixty meters until they came to a large ornately carved wall of stone.
As one, the Liothern caressed the wall with their thoughts. It pushed back gently, playfully resisting. They felt every inch of the stone wall and its many carved markings.
Hosk held her hand to the stone and looked at the engraving over the arch for a long moment. She then called up her keyboard display and began typing.
Malik stepped up beside her. "They're Necri symbols."
"I know," Hosk said. "I'm translating them now." Her exo-frame computer screened through its onboard system, then through the Swift Destiny's hard drives. "I've got a name. Porro Thule. It looks like some sort of tomb." She examined her computer's readings again. "I can't get any more unless I go out over the Sprawl."
"Let's not do that," Malik cautioned. "Not yet anyway. We don't know who is monitoring this sector."
"My scanner shows a crease down the center of the stone," Hosk said.
Malik ran his fingers along the groove. "I think you're right."
"A door," Rikt said. "It must be a door."
Malik stepped back and gave a silent order. Rikt and Hosk positioned on either side of him and joined their thoughts to his.
Together, the Liothern forced their will on the stone door. It creaked slowly with age, then widened with ease once it had begun moving.
Behind it, the flat stone-tiled floor sloped downward into blackness. A chill hung in the air, stale and biting. It rushed over them in a hurry, as though a long-held breath were suddenly let out. As it passed, a swelling strength pulsed up ahead, calling them deeper inside.
"Should we signal back to the ship?" Hosk asked.
Malik considered the question. "Yeah, do that before we go any further."
Hosk initiated the call as Malik began studying the carvings on the inside of the door. The pictographs and symbols told an unclear story of this Porro Thule. The more he read, the more Malik got the impression that this tomb was built not just for any patriarch or wealthy merchant, but for an ancient Liothern Protector, one who served this sector for a lifetime or more. That, however, was the extent that he could translate on his own.
Malik looked back at Hosk, who was still engaged in explaining to Daton what they'd found. Several seconds passed as the Drogerd listened to her co-pilot's questions. She then began answering with a litany of coordinates and readings, coupled with a full upload of their discoveries to the Swift Destiny's computer.
Malik motioned to Rikt, and the two of them stepped into the opening. Hosk held up a hand to stop them, but then lowered it once Malik signaled that they'd remain in visual contact.
The first room, the only room, was twenty-five square meters large and held a large sarcophagus against the back wall. Above and around it, Necri etchings interlocked to create a sweeping epic of the long dead Liothern's career. Dozens of stories swirled about the room. He fed dying worlds, halted armadas, and so forth.
It was a beautiful way to be honored, but it wasn't the swollen pulse of strength that Malik felt earlier. At best it was a whisper, a tease. A smell of the meal instead of a taste.
He motioned to Rikt and the two began searching for a hidden passage or doorway.
Malik walked along the perimeter of the room, sending pulses out against the walls. Again and again, they came back to him in echoes until one disappeared beyond the stone and didn't return. He looked to Rikt. "Here."
The Abyssiet scratched along the wall until he uncovered the groove that outlined the door. He then ignited his blade and cut into the existing grooves. When finished, he stretched his palms outward and began to pull the seven-foot-high stone door out an inch at a time.
Malik stepped over to the main entrance and motioned for Hosk to join them. She nodded and cut her communication link with the ship.
Just then, there was a creek from above them. It was quiet at first, so quiet that Malik wasn't sure he'd even heard it. By then, it was almost too late.
Malik reached out to Hosk and pulled her ten meters through the air as the main entryway caved in. She collided with him and they tumbled onto the floor of the tomb as the ceiling fell around them.
Chapter Seven
7
"Everyone alright?" Malik asked. Rikt and Hosk nodded. "Good."
All around them, piles of broken stone littered the floor leading to the entrance. Pinpoints of light shone through the cracks at the top near where the ceiling once was.
"A trap to keep people out?" Hosk asked.
Rikt scurried up onto the mound and scratched at it for a minute. He grunted and looked back at them. "Or in."
Malik stood and walked over to the massive stone block on the other side of the tomb. "Rikt and I found this door in the mural. Opening it must have triggered the cave in."
He stepped closer to the doorway and was met by a stirring from within. He stopped as the movement became more regular and took on purpose. The source of this movement couldn't be seen in the fading light, but the feeling was clear. He was being examined, studied. It passed over him in seconds, but it lingered enough to tell him that it was the presence that he sensed from outside and was at the very least curious.
"We lost our element of surprise," Hosk said. "We should at least avoid being surprised."
"You're right," Malik said. "Hit the lights. Let's see where we are."
In an inst
ant, each of the three exo-frames shone beams of intense brightness.
The team stepped forward and Malik took stock of the room. Longer than the last, this room was supported by four pillars. Intricate carvings wove in and out of one another against the otherwise uniform gray stone walls. A large statue stood guard at the far end. There was a whirring, too. This gentle hum of machinery came from behind the statue and a faint pale light outlined the frame of the room's huge guardian.
Hosk started walking towards it, but Rikt gripped her arm. "Wait. Maybe more traps like outside."
Hosk shrugged the Abyssiet's clawed hand off of her. "I get the entrance, but why rig your chamber?"
"I don't feel it either," Malik said. "There's interest here, but no immediate danger."
"Wrong, Liothern," a voice rasped from within the room, seemingly from all sides. "You are all in grave danger."
"Not from traps," Malik said into the empty space.
"No, from the Great Deception," the voice returned.
Malik's stomach knotted. The hint of a deception was a shared feeling he and his team had on the station before confronting Celwik. It was weak then, but its nagging insistence had grown stronger since the smuggler's death. "Is that the danger we have to fear?"
"You are not the ones who suffer from it. Not at first," said the voice. This time, however, the echo did not come from all sides. It originated from the statue at the far wall. Malik pointed Hosk and Rikt to it in time for them to see its subtle movements and hear it speak again. "Long have I held my secret here for the ones who will champion peace. I have looked into your souls and you are not they."
Malik stood a little straighter at this. In spite of every dealing he had with a Liothern in post-life, he couldn't help but be offended at this one's comments. "I am Malik Carthen, Captain of the Swift Destiny and formerly the Liothern of sector 5849 of the Amun Empire. How am I not worthy of your trust?"
"I was once Liothern in body and am still Liothern in spirit," the voice answered quickly. "Your titles mean nothing to me when it is plain that you will begin the Great Deception."
"So you say," Malik said. "What is this lie you expect us to tell?"
"I expect nothing," the voice said. "I foresee. I know." The statue cracked and long-settled dust fell to the stone floor. One arm broke free from its crafted pose, then the second, carrying a metal ax. The legs of the statue bent and pulled themselves off of the wide pedestal. Even standing flat-footed, it was a clear head above Malik. Light pulsed over the statue's arms and legs. "You will not disgrace us."
The four columns spun open and four hunks of metal rolled out onto the floor. Long narrow limbs stretched out of each metal ball and lifted it up as it unfolded into a crab-shaped bot. They powered up as they advanced. The many arms that sprouted out from their lean bodies popped and hissed as thin yellow streaks ran from one emitter to another. These arms whirred and spun in a pattern that blurred them into a single sphere of light.
"They're Mark IVs," Malik said as Rikt and Hosk took position on either side of him. Their exo-frames lit up in time with his. Twin blades formed out of Malik's gauntlet emitters as he studied the bots' movements. "It's a 2-4 pattern, so time it right or you'll end up minus one limb."
The Mark IV ComBots were not much different than the EngBots or MedBots of the same generation. They shared the same chassis, algorithm, and processor type. The only discernible differences were their directive protocols and armament. EngBots and MedBots were equipped with tools. These were equipped with the same tools repurposed as weapons.
The three Liothern stood evenly spaced in the hall and let the bots come to them. Their formation and the width of the room forced the bots into one-on-one confrontations.
Three of the bots marched forward as the fourth slid in behind and initiated its standby protocol. The statue, more cautious in its movements, stalked up beside the fourth bot and watched the Liothern intently.
Mark IV ComBots were standard issue when Malik was a Liothern trainee. He knew their programming, their tactics, and their limits. True to form, they converged on the lead opposing figure, which was him.
They fired cables. Yellow streaks of light crackled down the lengths of these cables and arched at Malik. Malik cut down the electrified grappling arms with his blade like vines in a thick jungle. The bots withdrew, but didn't recoil. Later models were programmed to display evidence of pain to trick enemy targets into pressing an attack. These weren't so advanced. These were all forward movement.
The Liothern Collective trained their guardians to work best in teams of two or three. Dozens of formation drills and combat scenarios made them as much a war machine as they were a diplomatic presence. One Liothern is rarely alone, and for good reason.
Hosk discharged one of her blades into the body of the center bot. Sparks flew as the blade of energy sliced through the alloy of the war machine. It sputtered, then fell.
The bot in reserve stepped over it to take its place in the formation and was greeted by a similar blast by Trista. It fell over and went dark.
The two bots on either side spun to attack Hosk and Rikt. This was Malik's turn to fire. Two blades of pure energy fired from each of his wrists into the advancing bots. They jerked wildly, then grew quiet. Rikt and Hosk finished the damaged bots with cuts of their own then fell back into formation as the statue approached.
The stone giant swung its large ax in a broad arc. Hosk and Rikt jumped over the attack and off to the sides. Malik stepped back to lure it forward and watched as Rikt and Hosk crept up the now empty pillars.
The statue lumbered after him.
Hosk and Rikt jumped from their perches in a coordinated assault. Bright flashes of light streaked in the dark room. Chips of stone dripped in red and white glowing pools as the statue fell in sections at Malik's feet.
The Liothern met at the center of the room.
"Everyone alright?" Malik asked. Both nodded. "Systems check."
The three of them began running through the data that scrolled before their eyes.
"All functioning optimally," Hosk said.
Rikt signaled an affirmative as well, then shuddered. He looked up at Malik and said, "I'm low."
Hosk looked up at him expectantly.
Malik's joints were, in fact, tight. His muscles were sore. He hadn't noticed before now, but he had developed a thin coat of sweat from his exertion, a cold sweat that seeped into his bones, chilling him slightly. "Quarter-tabs," he said finally.
"No!" a voice cried out.
As one, they snapped their attention to the doorway where the stone statue once stood. There, cloaked in heavy burial robes, stood a lone skeleton. It pulsed in anger.
"You will stop this assault now!" it rasped at them. It cast the robes down to the floor. There was a quick snap and an exo-frame lit up around the bones of the guardian. Twin blades shot out over its wrists, illuminating the skeletal figure.
"Porro Thule, I imagine," Malik said. "It is a pleasure to meet you finally, one servant of the Necri to another."
"You serve the Necris. You know nothing of serving the Necri," the skeleton of Porro Thule said. "Leave." Malik watched and was in some small way taken aback that the skeleton's jaw did not move as it spoke. It should not have surprised him. Porro Thule's voice resonated from the skeleton, but would still have no reason to pass through the long decayed fleshy folds that allowed speech in life.
"The Necri are gone," Malik said. "All of them. They have been gone for hundreds of cycles. Necris is all that remains and there are dark forces that would enslave entire systems if they get their hands on enough of it." He stopped to look for any sort of understanding on the expressionless skull. Finding none, he continued. "We, the remaining Liothern, work with the new Alliance to make sure that doesn't happen, but we need the Necris to fight them back."
"You are not passing," Porro Thule said. It stepped toward them and raised its guard. "I will stop you with my last ounce of post-life."
Malik he
ld a hand out to the Hosk and Rikt. "Maybe take halves instead."
Chapter Eight
8
A rise during combat is not for enlightenment, to perform a great act, or even for enjoyment. It's for survival and it is dangerous. Rises flood your thoughts as you need to be at your most focused, like having a three-minute dopamine rush while piloting a high traffic trade route.
Malik shuddered in the warm release a moment too long and received a contact burn on his leg for the distraction. His exo-frame's medical protocols injected him with painkillers and immediately began tending to the wound. Between that and the continued waves of the rise, he was on his feet and fighting again in seconds.
The mural in the front room depicted Porro Thule as a fierce combatant and a powerful wielder of the forces of the universe. These, it seemed, were not lies. It took all three Liothern to deflect enough blows to only suffer minor injuries. If not for the deflective shielding provided by their more advanced exo-frames, they would have died in the first exchange.
Porro Thule pressed a strong and well-practiced attack against the three opponents. He kicked Rikt across the long, narrow chamber and seared the Hosk across her back with a blade, forcing her to retreat and heal as he turned his attention to Malik.
Malik countered the first two strikes, but watched helplessly as Porro Thule's blade deflected off of his face shielding. It was a perfect swipe that should have bisected the top of his head at the bridge of his nose. Malik breathed a quick thank you to Wren for updating their equipment before the mission, then took an elbow to his stomach that sent him to the floor.
The fight continued like this for several minutes before Malik could coordinate a sustainable tactic that allowed one of them to rest while the other two fought. Malik and Hosk started, then Hosk drew back and Rikt took her place. Five seconds later, Malik drew back and Hosk jumped forward.
Deception Page 3