Merillian: 2 (Locus Origin)

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Merillian: 2 (Locus Origin) Page 36

by Christian Matari


  Hanan Aru kept close watch as Shari, Kesha Kun’s oldest son and heir to the Dark Sun Empire, stood vigilant before the rack which held the large Terran, mesmerized by his regenerative capabilities. No doubt the others would soon share his fate. Kesha Kun was notorious for his lust for psionic power, whatever the cost. Soon he would want to see if the others possessed similar abilities.

  Hanan Aru considered all the possibilities. He faced a choice dilemma. On the one hand, he had given his word to fulfill his mission, yet there, right before his very eyes, stood the most vile and powerful figure on the entire planet. The Etherium would surely benefit from his removal, though such an act would not be without its consequences. Even though Shari would eventually assume the throne, the resulting power vacuum would send the Iman Sheni into turmoil, perhaps even long enough for the Iankari to make their move.

  A guard appeared on the balcony above, resting his arms on the railing and peering down at the scene below. Hanan Aru kept perfectly still, not wanting to draw attention to himself. His eyes were drawn to the two magnificent beasts below. They were Eladons, native to the smuggler’s haven of Jarrubon. Elusive creatures, but fast and ferocious. Some say they were once a sentient race which devolved into a bestial state, shaking off the shackles of civilization for a life of predation. Despite their shrouded homeworld, their fame was widespread. They could smell the scent of prey several kilometers away. If it weren’t for the hermetic seals on his suit, they would surely have sensed him by now. The smugglers of Jarrubon were known to send out hunting parties to capture them, often with disastrous consequences. Any beasts taken would then be shipped offworld and sold to the highest bidder. They were said to be nearly impossible to kill. Many times he had fantasized about testing himself against one, and here there were two.

  Chapter 52

  Kesha Kun stood arrogantly before them, pondering how best to make use of his captives while his entourage of guards kept silent watch.

  “Serena, tell him we want to negotiate,” Captain Mitchell slurred. He had regained most of the use of his limbs, and was wrestling with his restraints.

  “Negotiate?” Kesha Kun spoke in a clear voice, startling them with his use of their language. “And what you have to give that Kesssha Kun cannot take from you?”

  “Let them go,” Mitchell commanded. “I’m the one you want,” he lied.

  “Sssuch arroganccce,” Kesha Kun sneered.

  Shari grabbed Raven forcefully by the jaw. He tilted his head as he stared into her eyes, then lowered his lascivious gaze to her ample figure. He ran the tip of his gauntleted finger down the seam of her flight suit, between her supple breasts, thrusting it into her abdomen, causing her to gasp. She spat in his face.

  Apparently this was not something the young prince had become accustomed to in his sheltered life. He stood stock still for a moment, astounded that someone would dare to defy him so. After his surprise wore off, he thrust out a hand and, without looking, beckoned to a young fair-skinned Ganyatti girl who had been hovering in the background. The girl, who appeared no older than early adolescence, hesitantly approached her master, stretching up when she reached his side and tentatively licking his mask clean. As soon as she finished, backing away with her head bowed and her supple tail writhing around her knees, Shari rammed his fist into Raven’s stomach. She reeled in pain, gasping for air.

  “You enter my domain, ssslay my guards, sssteal Kesssha Kun’s mossst prized possession,” Kesha Kun chuckled softly once his son had straightened his robes and regained his composure, “even ssspit in the face of my ssson, and you wisssh to negotiate?”

  “We are members of the Terran Republic. If you think you can get away with keeping us prisoner, you are sorely mistaken,” Mitchell insisted, his speech clearer as he regained control of his body.

  Kesha Kun gasped, letting out a horrendous sound that it took Marcus a moment to realize was malicious laughter.

  “Sssourcesss tell Kesssha Kun that your ship isss docked in Sheijan, and isss a most primitive vessssel. Your threatsss carry little weight with me.”

  “Get me out of here!” Taz moaned as he came round, frantically trying to wriggle free.

  Kesha Kun reveled in their misery, turning to Jago’s hooded tormentor, “Cut him again,” he ordered the crabbed figured, who promptly thrust a blade once more into the huge clone’s chest.

  Jago screamed, although not as loudly as he had before. Marcus could see that the behemoth was losing strength. He had always thought that the big man would never break.

  “I be curioussss to sssee how long he can continue healing. I could ssspend yearsss to listen to his wailsss, but his sssecret shall be mine. All your sssecretsss ssshall be mine. You thought you could stop Kesssha Kun from posssesssing her powersss,” he said as he paused in front of Raven. “Inssstead Kesha Kun shall have yoursss asss well!”

  In the sudden silence that followed the Sheshen’s words, Serena let out an astonished gasp of realization. “Raven, can… you mean… all of you?”

  Captain Mitchell silenced her with a glare.

  “Let ussss sssee what the girl can do?” Kesha Kun suggested, gesturing towards Serena. “Cut her.”

  “No!” Marcus shouted. “She isn’t one of us!”

  Serena was growing hysterical, utterly confused, but aware enough that she knew she was in grave danger.

  “She has no powers!” Marcus pleaded with him. “Please, let her go.”

  “Hmmm,” Kesha Kun sneered at him. “No powersss? You must be thinking Kesssha Kun be a fool! Yet, if you insssissst, then sssurely I need not be making asss careful with her asss the othersss. If ssshe have no powersss, then Kesha Kun losesss nothing. Cut her!”

  Jago’s tormentor ceased its probing of the whimpering giant and moved down the line to stand in front of Serena, the serrated scalpel still dripping blood in its gloved hand. The torturer didn’t look up at her face at all, the hood of its robes drawn low over its head. Perhaps doing so made the job easier to bear.

  “No!” Marcus cried out, “please! Cut me instead!”

  Kesha Kun turned his back on them, languidly easing his way back up the steps to rest on his nightmarish throne. The torturer began cutting the straps on Serena’s armor, removing the plates one by one. Marcus felt tears swelling up in his eyes at the thought of what was about to happen, but he refused to look away.

  Beyond, Marcus could see the robed figure of Shari move over to Reid, leaning in to within a hair’s breadth of the sniper’s face, staring directly into his eyes. Reid calmly closed his eyes, taking long deep breaths to keep his composure.

  “Holy Father, give us the strength to endure our hardships,” he began to recite under his breath. “Embrace us with your all-encompassing wisdom and permit us entry into your hallowed realm.”

  * * * * *

  Hanan Aru clutched the edge of the balcony. He knew that if he were to intervene, and fail, it would not only result in his death, but in dire ramifications for the Etherium as well. The rest of the Iman Sheni would find out who was to blame, as they always did. Not only was he Hiodan, his suit, with its distinctive chameleon function, could easily be traced back to the Iankari. A wave of punitive assassinations and retaliatory strikes would wash across the Etherium. As he pondered the best course of action, he realized that there were only two choices available to him: fight or flight.

  Flight was the safest option, both for himself and the Etherium, but despite his reservations about the Terrans, he would not wish such a fate on even his worst enemy. The mission, he thought. I still have a mission to fulfill. Among the Iankari, honor was everything. Men in his profession would often give in to honor. It was a double-edged sword, one that could spell the difference between a long and prosperous career and a swift – albeit honorable – death. Though the mission had not been handed down by the Etherium, it was a mission nonetheless. He felt the pangs of guilt stirring as he contemplated retreat. Could he ever face Rodan Kesh again, knowing he had failed him? He ha
d given his word.

  His eyes were drawn once more to the Eladons, lounging on the floor next to the throne. Even one would be a formidable opponent, but two? Looking around, he counted over thirty guards in the hall alone. There was no telling how many more would come to their aid. He wanted desperately to fight, yearned to charge in. He even caught himself reaching for the handle of the blade strapped to his back.

  I can’t, he thought, snatching his hand away. The Etherium comes first. He set his hand firmly back on the stone of the balcony and began eyeing the escape route he would take, a wide passage on the ground floor, currently flanked by a pair of Nerokan honor guards.

  * * * * *

  Marcus didn’t even care what happened to him anymore, as long as Serena got away. They could have him for all he cared. Having been hunted most of his short life, he’d always assumed he would come to one violent end or another.

  “If she cannot heal, then she will make a fine meal for my Eladonsss,” Kesha Kun sniggered, reaching out to pet the one to his right.

  The spined creature let out an almost soothing purr as the last of Serena’s armor fell to the floor.

  The torturer grabbed hold of Serena’s jacket, cutting through the neckline and then ripping it open, tearing away her undershirt in the same swift, efficient movements. Marcus couldn’t look. It was a strange feeling. He was both afraid for her life and embarrassed for her at the same time. He turned and looked the other way down the line of racks, seeing that Taz too had averted his gaze, something Marcus would never have expected him to do at the sight of a naked female body.

  “No,” Serena cried, voice choking on the edge of tears. “Please… stop!”

  Steeling himself, Marcus turner back to see what was happening. The torturer was looking over his shoulder, apparently waiting for his master’s approval. There had to be something he could do, thought Marcus frantically. He wanted to lash out with his mind, but his thoughts were too clouded by fear. He tried frantically to focus on his anger, his hate, but the more he tried to grasp it, the more easily it slipped through his fingers. Save her, you fool, he thought. You have done it before, why can’t you do it now?

  “Wahti shyng yoni,” Kesha Kun’s voice echoed throughout the hall.

  “No, please,” Serena pleaded in desperation.

  The blade pierced her flesh, sinking in deeper with each passing second. The sound she made as she gasped for breath sent Marcus reeling. He thought for sure that it would be her last. Time almost stood still as he hung on the rack, watching the torturer lean forward onto his blade. He squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to look, as he heard the sound of the first few droplets of blood hitting the floor.

  How could any living being be so cruel, so utterly devoid of compassion? He hated them, all of them. He wanted to strip the very flesh from their bones. These weren’t sentient beings. No sentient creature could do such unspeakable things, let alone actually enjoy them. She was gone. He couldn’t look, but he was certain of it. They’d killed her, the shining beacon of light in his otherwise bleak, miserable existence.

  Suddenly he felt Mitchell’s presence as the captain reached out with his mind, piercing through the roiling mass of emotion clouding his psyche.

  “I can’t stop you this time, Marcus,” Mitchell’s voice sounded inside his mind. “But there’s no other choice. I’ve got to pull the pin out of the grenade.”

  With that, Marcus felt his panic slipping away. There was nothing to fear anymore, no panic, no dismay. It was as if the captain had sealed off that part of his mind entirely. The void in his soul was fast filling up with boundless rage.

  Whether he wanted to or not, his feelings for the others were simply gone, nonexistent. He no longer feared the consequences of what his fury might do to them. All he wanted was revenge. His nostrils flared as he drew in deep breaths, his entire body trembling. He couldn’t contain it any more.The shackles around his legs and wrists shattered with a series of loud cracks, sending fragments of metal flying in all directions. He lowered his head, dropping his arms to his sides, taking one final deep breath before the chaotic forces brewing inside him seized irrevocable control.

  The very air rippled around him as waves of energy coursed through his body. Had they been able to see him, the stars themselves would have trembled in his presence. He was Marcus no more. He was an incarnation of fury and death.

  Chapter 53

  The Avia were among the finest luxury vehicles in the entire galaxy, and the ambassador’s shuttle was one of their most extravagant, built to a sleek and elegant design. Its curved body was a little over a dozen meters in length and a third of that in width, the upper half of which consisted of curved glass, tinted dark for added comfort. Twin thrusters protruded from the rear of the cabin beneath short dual fins that slanted down and outwards in a thin set of wings.

  Although the pursuit of wealth for its own sake was a foreign concept to the Gaian people, the acquisition of status was another matter entirely. Ambassador Janosh had always considered his position a means to serve his people to the best of his abilities. For all that, it was an appointment of the highest honor, rivaled only by a seat on the Triumvirate. Selfish gains had always been the farthest from his mind, but he found himself enjoying the little perks that his status afforded him.

  “We must hurry. The Council is about to begin,” the ambassador urged from his broad seat, leaning forward to retrieve his holopad from the seat across from him.

  He’d received the footage while enjoying his afternoon tea, and had known instantly that he finally possessed the leverage he needed to persuade the Etheran Council. The shuttle raced across the cityscape towards the Council Hall. The spire of the Palace of Wisdom towered formidably over the center of the Core district, a glowing beacon of hope for all the races of the Etherium alliance. Though he had wandered its halls on countless occasions, it never ceased to inspire him.

  Normally he would arrive early, taking the time to enjoy the majestic rooftop gardens. Strolling leisurely amidst trees native to all the corners of the galaxy, he would enjoy a brief respite from his duties as he marveled at the myriad of exotic aromas and countless statues and fountains, honoring past dignitaries and honoraries of the Etherium. He knew that one day his visage would be memorialized amidst carefully-pruned bushes and towering trees, forever gracing the gardens with his presence.

  Today, however, was not the time for such reverie. The Council was about to begin and he loathed late arrivals more than anyone, but the footage he’d been sent had necessitated that he make some arrangements before leaving for the Core. His shuttle banked towards one of the empty landing bays, a circular platform surrounded by pinpricks of azure light that blinked slowly on and off. The ambassador folded a sheath of resistant fabric around the holopad and placed it safely in a compartment within his robes, ready to depart the moment the vessel touched down.

  * * * * *

  The usual clamor greeted him as he entered the hall. He was met by Rodan and his aide, who had arrived ahead of him to prepare for their latest stratagem.

  “They are about to begin, Ambassador,” the aide stated, drawing an accusing stare from Ambassador Janosh.

  The aide cleared his throat, remembering that the Ambassador was not particularly fond of people who stated the obvious.

  “I shall escort you to your seat, Ambassador,” he prompted, swiveling on his toes and strutting towards a side passage which led up to the third storey booths.

  The opening address was just starting when they took their seats in the Gaian booth. Ambassador Janosh withdrew his holopad, plucking a small data card from one of its sockets and placing it on his armrest.

  The assembly began with a heated debate concerning trade legislation, which escalated quickly as reference was made to the recent terrorist attacks. Noga Zhad, the mouthless, serpentine Eremaran councilor, speculated that the attacks were aimed at destabilizing commerce and implied they had actually been perpetrated by corporate competitors on Mott
Midahl, the Cerakanese Freedom Fighters simply claiming responsibility to garner publicity for their cause.

  It was a ridiculous notion, Janosh knew. While it was true that the corporate interests of Mott Midahl had gained from the inflated prices on trade goods being brought in from outlying worlds, Mott Midahl had more important matters to deal with. Its location so near the border with the Moloukan Empire made the Etherium a valuable ally to them, a relationship their government would never allow rogue elements to jeopardize, no matter the financial gains available. It was clear that Noga Zhad’s notion was merely an attempt to divert attention from the fact that it was his predecessors who had been the most outspoken against the issue of rendering aid to Cerakan in their time of need.

  “The next speaker is the esteemed Councilor for the Children of Gaia,” the Hiodan Councilor and aid to the Shitoru, Kai Käraian, prompted.

  “Esteemed colleagues,” Ambassador Janosh began, rising and leaning on the balcony of his booth as he looked around the grand chamber, “I call upon you once more to discuss the matter of the Terran threat.”

  “This again, Ambassador?” Noga Zhad called. “Is the realm of Gaia so blessed that their only concern is the matter of a few hapless wanderers?”

  “The Gelvein agree,” came the thundering voice of Councilor Yusol Sulomo, the long flowing tentacles of his hologram writhing in midair above the floor of the assembly hall. “We refuse to dwell on such insignificant matters when war looms over our people.”

  Janosh was indeed sympathetic to the Gelvein cause, their homeworld having been the target of more Moloukan raids than any other, apart from Cerakan. If it weren’t for the harsh nature of their planet, the Moloukan Empire would have made slaves of their entire population eons ago.

 

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