by Vi Voxley
The long sword was in Harbor's hand before he ever reached the group and he met the Eridon squad head-on. There were more of them than there was of him, scores more, but they were no match for him. Harbor spun between them, moving unpredictably between their long, poisoned spears, catching them off guard.
He showed no mercy, knowing they answered with the same. The burning moon around him spurred the commander on.
His blade cut and tore, leaving the Eridons behind in screaming heaps of what used to be their limbs. Harbor only needed to make sure he had taken them out of the fight before he moved on, determined to protect the civilians as was the duty of any proper Gargon warrior.
A scream behind him made Harbor turn. The biggest Eridon had left the fight with him to try and drag the female away. She was howling in pain, but her words were the ones that threatened to make Harbor lose the last of his temper.
"Kill me! Kill me, please! He's Magorra's soldier, please..."
Harbor tried to reach her, bellowing a war cry to the fleeing, cowardly Eridon lieutenant, but the others were blocking him. He couldn't reach her in time. A little further an Eridon scout ship was waiting, no doubt already filled with kidnapped females.
The name of their most feared warlord was enough to explain why the female was willing to die rather than suffer the fate Magorra had in store for her.
Before Harbor could reach them, someone landed between the ship and the Eridon lieutenant. A Gargon with two short spears in his hands and a grin on his lips.
Harbor hadn't stopped fighting the others for a second. His blows and strikes were growing more brutal by the second as he fought to reach the female, knowing Cole and his entrances all too well.
Speaking of proper Gargons...
True to Harbor's worst suspicions, Cole didn't immediately kill the lieutenant. The dark green on his skin marked Cole out as a precision fighter. Harbor had seen him hit a target as small as an insect from half a mile away, yet he didn't send one of the daggers strapped to his thighs right into the Eridon's throat now that he had the chance.
Instead, he challenged him. Harbor roared across the burning fields as the lieutenant pushed the female to his soldiers and faced Cole. The other commander had just enough honor left in him to finally pull the daggers and in the next second, the female was free. Her captors sank to their knees, Cole's small, infinitely sharp daggers in their eye sockets as Cole himself faced the lieutenant.
Harbor lost sight of Cole then, knowing he could handle himself. With a bitter, focused fury, he finished the Eridon soldiers and ran past Cole, who was killing the lieutenant with a look of bored disappointment on his face. Harbor jumped into the ship and beheaded the Eridon pilot with one swift blow, before the man could let out a single screech.
When he jumped out of the ship, fuming, covered in blood, Cole was beaming.
"Did you see that?" the other commander asked, sheathing his spears and then yanking a dagger out of one of the fallen Eridons, the yellow, gooey eye sticking to it morosely. "That is what Magorra is calling a lieutenant these days? He has really let his standards go–"
Harbor decked him with one blow.
3
Cole
Cole was up on his feet in an instant, the grin gone from his lips as he drew his spears again.
The hostages of the Eridons were running away from them. He couldn't blame them. Seeing Gargons fight among themselves wasn't a pretty sight when they were supposed to be protecting the Alliance. For Harbor, Cole was willing to make an exception.
No one else riled him up like the big, uptight commander did.
Towering over him in his impressive height, Harbor's dark eyes were burning with hatred.
"You'll pay for that," Cole warned him, preparing himself for a duel.
They were better than that. On days of peace – rarer and rarer these days – they were better than that. Only on Laeroc, the moon still dying around them, their blood was already too hot to stop and cool their tempers.
"The female," Harbor growled at him. "You should have ensured her safety first and then fought your ridiculous single combats. Have you forgotten why we're here? These are defenseless civilians. We are bound to protect them. This is not a playground for you to hone your skills, there are lives at stake!"
This again. The same old story.
Cole lowered his spears, now understanding what had gotten Harbor so twisted. It was probably the only thing that could have stopped him from making Harbor a head shorter. The argument was old between them and he knew no blade was going to end it. They would meet again in the afterlife and the bickering would only continue
"Don't start, Harbor," Cole said, sheathing his weapons. "I saved the girl. She's fine."
"Through luck more than you," Harbor said, although the other commander had put his sword away too and was glaring at him now, arms crossed before his wide chest. "Answer me. Have you forgotten why we're here?"
"You have some nerve," Cole said. "To accuse me of losing sight of what's important. You are a hypocrite, Harbor. Tell me, would you have saved the girl if you weren't held up by those little soldiers you seemed to be struggling with?"
Harbor bristled at the insult, yet the argument seemed to be more important to him.
"Yes," he said at once. "Of course!"
"Good for you," Cole said, grinning, knowing exactly how it angered Harbor.
Making the big commander furious was one of his favorite pastimes.
"Imagine this, then," Cole went on. "I know what you're saying. I've heard this so many times now I can argue your damned point for you. I should have killed the lieutenant with a shot you know I could hit with my eyes closed. Correct?"
"Yes," Harbor growled with a humorless smile on his lips. "Take this as a compliment now, Cole, I don't give these out often. You are an impressive warrior. This obsessive need to prove yourself against every ranking officer is ridiculous.
“You must start focusing your skills on helping people now, as we're supposed to. Seeking personal glory is only acceptable when it doesn't come at the expense of innocent lives."
"As I said, the girl lived," Cole shrugged. "Now let me give you a compliment in return. You would have saved the girl, I know. You would save everyone. Even if it meant your death."
"I don't fear death," Harbor stated firmly.
"Neither do I, it doesn't mean I go out looking for it," Cole said, his anger flaring again. "This is what makes you a hypocrite. Tell me, if Commander Harbor, the protector of Octava and the Alliance, dies saving one female, who wins?"
Harbor didn't reply.
"The League, that's who," Cole finished. "You are so determined to sacrifice your life for others you don't consider the worth of yours. Do you know how long it takes for a warrior to get as good as we are?
“The lives we've saved... you know as well as I do we could save thousands more. Tens of thousands. Millions, if you consider the Alliance and all its hapless little worlds. The League is preparing for something big, Harbor. Stop trying to be a hero at a time when the galaxy can't afford to lose you."
A long silence set. Eventually, something akin to a real smile dawned on Harbor's face as he grunted. The other commander motioned him to walk and they fell in step with each other easily, having fought many wars together, if Cole only knew how they'd done that without killing each other.
"I think that was one of the nicer arguments we've had," Harbor said.
"Yes," Cole agreed. "I didn't even break your arm this time."
"It was the weight of my armor and gravity more than any victory of yours."
Cole laughed.
After their argument was settled, they wandered around Laeroc, killing any Eridons that remained and assessing the damage. It was a tedious and painful job. They both longed for a new battle, a new chance to deal a decisive blow to the League and the Eridons.
"The raiders will return," Harbor said grimly. "Every day they inch closer to Octava."
"They'll never
get past us," Cole answered.
The silence fell once more until he added in an uncharacteristically thoughtful voice:
"Do you ever consider the similarity between us and the Eridons?"
Harbor stared at him like he'd lost his mind. Cole shook his head, raising his hands to cool the other warlord's nerves before he lost them again as he did so easily.
"Hear me out. We know the raids are the League's way of sowing discord, fear and paranoia. This wanton destruction here... it's nothing more than a warning of what's to come. Maybe in a year, maybe more. You know they're coming."
Harbor nodded seriously.
"The Eridons themselves, though," Cole said musingly. "The way they kidnap females for their home world. Does that not remind you of us?"
Harbor gave him a hard look.
"We don't kidnap females. We don't maim, torture and rape them until finally even death seems like a mercy. You should have heard that female scream when she told me they were Magorra's soldiers. The things he does to the females... You have seen the bodies."
"I didn't say they were one and the same," Cole shot back. "All I'm saying is that both our species are slowly dying. These new bonds with Terrans are good, I know that. Only for them, the bonds aren't as solid and real as they are for us.
“Most Terrans take a few years to feel comfortable enough to bear children for us. It works differently for them. All the while, our species is slowly aging, dying. The scarcity of bonds between Gargons is a problem that needs to fix itself soon."
It had come as a surprise to all Gargons when it was first reported that a Terran female and a Gargon male could mate and produce healthy offspring. For centuries, the Gargons had been facing the all too real threat of becoming extinct, as the gods had decided to bless them with male children far more often than female. The fact that they could only reproduce with their fated mates didn't help the population grow either.
It was a plague that came with mixed emotions within the race. On one hand, more males meant more warriors, a certain boon for a race of warriors. Yet what good were warriors if the race would not stand at all in another century or two?
As such, the advent of the possibility of prolonging their lines through the help of the Terrans was something to consider most seriously. Fortunately or unfortunately, Gargons had not yet quite made up their minds on whether it was a blessing, or indeed a curse.
"It will," Harbor said forcefully. "You know what the healers say. Every once in a while, a species needs new blood not to become stale. That is simply the will of the gods. The Terrans are bringing some of that to us. Do you suggest in the meanwhile we adopt some of the practices of the Eridons?"
Now it was Cole's time to glare. Harbor shook his head.
"I hope by the time the League is ready to launch their attack, our people have the numbers to defeat them. Until then, I'm glad of the fact we aren't the same. Eridons show us we are better than them. That is a comforting thought," Harbor said.
It was. Cole found himself nodding wordlessly. They walked on under a burning sky, hoping fate had an answer in store for all the questions in their hearts, as well as the longing for a fated of their own.
4
Riley
Three weeks later...
The houses on Octava were standing still, curse them. Riley was a little disappointed. She'd expected all kinds of flair from the home world of the Gargons, the most feared warriors in the galaxy.
Instead, she found a world utterly unsuited to raise a breed of howling maniacs. It was... tranquil. Riley couldn't find a better word to describe it, seeing the way the happy, beautiful, rich planet shone underneath her when the carrier ship flew over the capital city, Taria.
The journey down from orbit had been uneventful. The only noteworthy thing was that Riley managed to fool everyone around her with her cover story. Rowan had been adamant about it – no telling anyone who she was until she was straight-out recognized. The sanctity of the story demanded that she go incognito and so she had.
As a potential bride for the Gargons.
It didn't require any of the theatrics Riley had heard about – prettying herself up or putting on a show for their hosts. Nothing of the sort, in fact. Her story about wanting to make a new life for herself on Octava, maybe open her little restaurant, didn't raise any questions.
It sounded perfectly reasonable. Most of the women who landed on the Gargon home planet were... normal, for lack of a better word. Her newly made-up background fit in like a glove.
For the first time since Rowan dropped the story on her, Riley was interested. She had been afraid of girls with stars in their eyes, naïve to point of their retinas actually changing shape to become hearts. Desperate women who hoped that fate scored them a Gargon hunk when Terran men wouldn't do.
Other than a few exceptions to confirm the rule, Riley found the company very pleasant.
"This place," she wrote when the carrier ship landed on top of the Terran embassy in Taria, "is like magic. There are no spells being cast or cheap tricks to be played. Something about these bonds drag in the most fundamental desires of our hearts.
"The promises they make are ludicrous, after all. True love, eternal devotion, undying desire. We have lost the faith in them a long time ago. Now someone has put out the call and here they are..."
Riley's hand didn't allow her to write "us" yet. She was still thinking how to frame the story if she herself had no intention of seeking out a tall seven-foot hunk of burning love to rock her world.
"…answering the seductive chance. This is the rebirth of pure, uncompromised hope."
She shut off the tablet when she realized they'd landed, the intercom announcing the arrival to everyone on the vessel.
Letting the other visitors shuffle out first, Riley stayed behind to check herself in the reflection of the carrier's windows. It felt weird to do that – it wasn't like she was wearing a disguise with a wig and an amusing mustache. Her task was even harder.
She had to blend into the crowd, not draw attention, and float through the Introduction to Gargons 101 without ever being seen or noticed.
The outfit she'd chosen hopefully fit the profile.
Riley watched her image on the window, seeing a woman with shoulder-length caramel brown curly hair and sharp, hawk-like light gray eyes. She was dressed in a modern suit with a tight black shirt that hid her curves and long white pants with matching ballerinas – not the shoes she would have picked herself but they did the trick.
As a person who was used to being ready to take off running, Riley felt a bit like a fish out of the water.
Time to go, she told herself.
She stepped out of the carrier, ready to fade to black and stand unnoticed, observing others around her and preparing to instill the essence of it into words. It meant that of course every single person was looking at her, some wearing frowns, some looking merely tired.
Apparently she should have been pushing out of the carrier in a flurry of excitement like everyone else. Whoops.
A tall woman with a long blonde ponytail and the tiniest mouth Riley had ever seen gave her a chiding look.
"Are we all here now?" she asked with a tone that said they better be.
Riley nodded, trying to make up for her mistake.
"Good," the woman said coldly, straightening up then and even gracing them all with a smile. "Welcome to Octava. I am Eva Locke and I work for the embassy. On behalf of us all, I hope you have a great time in the Gargon realm, which is why the ambassador has tasked me with preparing you a little.
“Walk with me."
I am on a school fieldtrip, Riley thought with amusement. Let us learn!
They all followed Eva down the long, wide stairway leading away from the landing zone. Riley got her first breath of the fresh, sweet air of Octava. She already liked it there.
Maybe Rowan had been right to suggest the book to her after all. Writing it was as good as a vacation on a paradise island, most of her work do
ne by talking to people and not potential corpses, and enjoying a perfectly mild, lovely atmosphere.
He might be right. I've gone a little wild. Civilization is exactly what I need to get a few social skills back.
They entered a great white hall with a high ceiling and a pleasant background buzz. Riley smirked a little, seeing how much effort they'd spent to make the place as homey as possible. Every piece of furniture they had screamed ‘Terra’, like it was built with nostalgia mixed with metal.
A gateway, she noted in her mind, to another world.
Eva stopped, making sure they all had a good view of her and waiting until the talking died down.
"Now," she said and all of a sudden her voice was very serious. "I want to make a few things very clear to you from the beginning. I see most of you are female. That's to be expected after Vanessa, our first Terran fated mate to a Gargon.
“I won't ask how many of you have come here with those prospects, that would be an invasion of your privacy but let's assume for the sake of an argument that there is at least one."
The group, Riley among them, laughed softly at that, not sure if their host was joking or not. She liked that moment. It said there were women like that in the crowd and they didn't take their aspirations all that seriously. The whole idea of a fated bond was still very new to Terrans.
Riley relaxed.
Eva regarded them all with a harsh look.
"As you may or may not know, Octava doesn't have that big of an outsider population. So far there are very few of us actively living here and we stand out. Nothing physical, they just know. In a few moments, we will be joined by Commanders Harbor and Cole who have kindly agreed to brief you of our security protocols."
You have got to be kidding.
She paused for effect and Riley frowned. The names were familiar to her as they undoubtedly were to everyone else present. Cole and Harbor ruled the vast armadas of the Gargons. She hadn't taken the warlords for men who went around giving tours.