by Zy J. Rykoa
* * *
Two Alliance scouts approached the wreckage in the forest.
‘Commendable shooting, twenty-five.’
GSI25 acknowledged the compliment with a nod.
‘This is General Scout Infantry 30 reporting; we have located the crash site.’
‘Any survivors?’ asked General Alkon Zaccarah over the communicator.
GSI30 nodded to his accomplice to check the craft, returning shortly after shaking his head.
‘No, sir, no survivors,’ said GSI30.
‘Check the deceased, is there a boy among them?’
GSI30 approached the craft and took a quick look inside. ‘No, sir, just two pilots.’
‘He is still alive,’ said Alkon. ‘Find him.’
‘Yes, sir. GSI25, target remains at…’
The communicator went silent.
‘Scout, do you read?’ asked Alkon. ‘Scout, can you hear me?’
‘Sorry, sir, it seems we’re not alone out here.’
‘Is it the boy?’
‘No, sir, something else.’
‘What?’
‘I don’t know, sir, it’s ... it’s moving too fast to be human.’
GSI25 turned to the bushes as he heard the same disturbance, a swift sound rustling the leaves in the immediate area and breaking fallen branches as it raced around them. Silence came again as Alkon spoke.
‘It is probably just a rat, scout. Proceed as planned.’
‘You have entered the Ukotan jungle,’ came a deep voice through another communicator.
‘Callibrian?’ asked Alkon with annoyance. ‘What are you doing on this frequency?’
‘Wondering why you have set out to kill the one I wish followed,’ said Kobin, ‘and perhaps saving your men’s lives.’
‘You have no authority here, Callibrian. The boy must die.’
‘Do not worry, General, he is already dead, thanks to your men shooting his aircraft down. As for your men, it would be advisable to leave now, while they still can.’
‘Hold your ground, Scouts,’ said Alkon. ‘It is a trick. He is trying to give the boy time to get away.’
Kobin chuckled deeply.
‘Sir,’ said GSI30, ‘it’s coming closer—whatever it is, it’s almost here.’
‘You have your weapons. Fire at will,’ said Alkon.
‘Your command, sir.’
‘Don’t miss,’ said Kobin dryly.
‘Get off this frequency, Callibrian. We have no time for your childish insults.’
‘Insults? I hear no insults,’ said Kobin. ‘I am here only to give warning of the beasts that are now stalking your scouts. Aim between their eyes, if you can, anywhere else will only upset them further.’
‘What are you talking about, Callibrian? Explain yourself or get off this frequency, now!’
‘Your men have entered the Ukotan jungle, as it is called in these parts. Few have ever survived to tell the tale, but it is said that the last of the creatures from the Forgotten Years inhabit the region.’
‘You speak of myths,’ began Alkon, but he was interrupted by GSI30.
‘They’re blocking our way out! There are hundreds of them!’
Both scouts began to back up against the walls of the aircraft.
‘We need back-up, now!’ they cried.
‘Hold your positions, it’s on its way,’ said Alkon, but he was silenced as a scream came from the communicator, followed by a low growl and rounds being fired. The communicator soon went blank with nothing more than static after another blood-curdling scream, the second scout’s communicator losing connection.
Alkon stood stunned for a moment, but then lowered his eyes in defeat. As much as he didn’t want to believe it, he knew Kobin was telling the truth now, and both of his scouts were gone.
‘Callibrian!’ he shouted into the communicator. ‘Report to me immediately at my quarters!’
Alkon threw the black device away in disgust and hurried to reach his quarters before Kobin did.
As Kobin entered the open door, Alkon did his best to keep his voice down. ‘What happened?’ he asked.
‘As I tried to explain, General, there are beasts of the Forgotten Years still in that jungle. If it is any consolation, your men died instantly.’
‘Why did you not inform us of this before?’
‘I was not aware that you intended to go there. I have plotted your path around it for a reason, despite being the shorter of the two routes.’
Alkon laughed a stressed, beaten laugh. ‘You have made a grave mistake, Callibrian. This is all I needed to convince the High Council of your trickery.’
Kobin’s expression was stern, as if he did not understand what Alkon was saying.
‘I’m not sure they will see it that way, General. I informed them of the potential danger, though I could not confirm it until now, and that is why they approved the route I have chosen. You would do well to discuss your options a little more thoroughly with them next time; you cannot continue to blame me when I am only here trying to help.’
Alkon shook his head, still chuckling. ‘You cannot twist it this time, Callibrian. Your continual misleading comments have caused more damage than you are worth. After we have taken Waikor, I will see you executed.’
‘Perhaps,’ said Kobin, casually. ‘However, I am sure they will ask you how I could inform you of the dangers if I were not informed of your movements. You see, General, I will be mentioning to them that you have been trying to deny the finding of the Daijuar through this boy, and now that the men who you sent to track him are dead, which you will confirm, they will have all the evidence they need to know that you are at fault.’
Alkon stopped laughing. In his tiredness, he had overlooked something that now appeared obvious, and he had given Kobin the upper hand. But there was little he could do now. The damage had been done. Kobin would know that he had won, but admitting defeat would be ultimately damaging.
‘I think we will let the High Council decide who is at fault,’ he said. ‘Now get back to your quarters. You no longer have permission to be out.’
‘At once, General,’ said Kobin, and disappeared into the night as he left.
Alkon sat back into his chair. His face was darkening with each day that went by as his health began to fail. Thinking back, he wasn’t sure how he had been able to blame Kobin at all for what had just happened. He was so desperate to be rid of him now that he had been making mistakes in everything he did, not just in fighting Kobin. He had to get away from the wars, had to be free of his command. He would be taking a military unit to Waikor city soon enough, and then it would go on to fight at Corsec. Perhaps then he would be free.
He looked to the ceiling and wondered what he had done to deserve so much misfortune over the previous weeks, and then turned to the books lying on the side of his desk, the first being his father’s journal. He decided he would read for the remainder of the night, a small but welcomed escape. If he were to find answers at all in these times, it would be in his father’s written thoughts.