by Brian Fisher
Chapter 60
Cold, black space surrounded her, blanketing her nearly naked form in oblivion. She wore only tatters of cloth covering her upper torso and from her waist to her mid thigh. Stars burned bright, faded, then died before her eyes. Planets formed and dissipated in a mere breath. Time both stopped and raced, simultaneously competing with itself for the sole purpose of competing. Reality itself warped in her mind, shaping everything and nothing.
She could hear a voice in the depths of her mind. It was both familiar and unknown. She didn't know why it was there, it just was. The words and the meaning thereof were alien to her. They simply said, "This is why."
Nothing made sense. How could she be in the depths of space, completely unprotected? How could she be alive? The last thing that she remembered was dying.
Was this Nirvana? Was this Summerland? It didn't seem possible. She knew that she was alive. She didn't know how or why she knew it, but she did.
She had a name. She was T'Sula Mir. Of that much she was certain. She was alive, and she was T'Sula Mir.
T'Sula gazed at the stars with her naked eyes. The light began to blur as she started to speed through space and time. She traveled through the burning center of white-hot stars. T'Sula crashed through a planet's molten core as she sped along her path. Comets flashed by, dusting her with their tails. Still she sped, never wavering until she came at last to her destination.
It was a beautiful world, green and blue with lush white clouds floating lazily in a vast sky. She traveled that world in the blink of an eye. Massive continents flashed beneath her, followed by gigantic oceans. High snow capped mountains caught her breath as she flew past them. This was a truly beautiful world.
People began to move on the ground beneath her. She watched as they grew, matured, and shaped their world. They built homes and farms, raising families along the way. Eventually the people grew bolder and began to form massive armies.
The armies marched across the land, killing and conquering until they no longer had anywhere to go. Hundreds of millions of men and women died in the useless wars that ravaged this world.
Still, there were heroes amongst them. Great warriors the likes of which few ever see. Their names were foreign to her, their stories unknown. Captivated, T'Sula continued to watch.
Giant steel beasts began to roam the waters and the land. The technology of war had outpaced the social skills of these people, threatening to overwhelm them.
One nation became the single most powerful of them all, controlling the economy, the military might, and the other governments. T'Sula saw that the people of that nation grew weary of the fighting, the death, and the financial burden of it all.
The people listened to the corrupt politicians, and the religious leaders. No more would they send their sons and daughters to war. No, it was beneath them. There would have to be another option, something that allowed them to wage their battles, but not have to fight them. It was time for a slave army. An army of beings bred to fight.
She watched a small group of scientists as they began to work, deep under a mountain. They harvested creatures from across the globe, and under the seas. Taking each of these unfortunate specimens, they began to experiment. They crossbred them, and they spliced their genes, eventually creating a monster.
T'Sula gasped when she recognized their creation. It was the first Ta'Reeth. A nearly unstoppable killing machine, a soldier without any remorse or values, it operated simply on orders and instinct.
Pleased with their work, the scientists unleashed their creation upon the world. It proved to be unstoppable. The creature started evolving faster than they had foreseen. Before they knew what had happened, the slave was now the master. Only a scant few escaped to the stars.
It wasn't the politician, the scientist, or even the soldier that paid the heaviest price. It was the infant that paid for its parent's decisions. It was the infant that inherited the ravaged world, and the decimated people.
T'Sula knew then what she had to do. She saw where her fate led. It was her destiny to right that choice made so long ago. She had to go to that alien place. Her fate lay buried deep in that mountain. She had to go to the place called Colorado.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she fought to control her emotions. The vision blurred and faded, changing scope and content. The planet and the stars disappeared, only to be replaced by a memory. It was a strong memory, one of her life at the monastery.
She remembered her Master. Ch'Lan had always been good to her. He was kind. There were always expectations, but he was constantly there to make sure that she had what she needed. T'Sula had always found a measure of comfort in her memories of Ch'Lan.
"Push yourself. Only by removing your physical weakness can you learn what I have to teach." T'Sula kept her eyes focused on her target as Ch'Lan spoke. She dared not look at her Master as she worked through her form. Her attention was absolute. Nothing entered her mind but her target and her teacher.
"Remember, there is no first strike. When you must strike, do so in such a manner that a second strike is not needed. If one is needed, then you have already failed." his words reached more than her ears. They began to slowly sink deep into the T'Sula's heart.
"This is not a sport, or a game that you are playing." Ch'Lan forced T'Sula to look at him when she completed her form. "The only trophy that you will win is your life. Focus. Get it right. Start over." he commanded.
Sweat poured from every pore in her body as she began the form for the hundredth time that day. Her feet glided across the smooth stone of the courtyard. Energy pulsed through her body, surging with each punch and kick. T'Sula's movements gradually became easier, more fluid as she practiced. The moves became engrained in her muscle memory so that she no longer had to think about what she was doing.
"No. You still are trying too hard. Do not force the movements. Let them flow like a river without a dam." Ch'Lan chided her again. Stopping T'Sula, and then showing her the combination of moves that he wanted. The combinations always blocked first, and then followed with a series of strikes to multiple opponents, with steps and feints in the mix. "Never force your actions. Let the Universal Spirit flow freely through you. Only then will you be truly in harmony with the Universe."
"Master, I don't understand." T'Sula pondered Ch'Lan's words for a moment before she continued. "How can I willfully make my own actions, and still allow myself to be a vessel of the Universal Spirit?"
"Sit." Ch'Lan instructed, himself taking a place on the smooth stone. He sat cross-legged facing his student, and waited for her to settle in.
"Everything is possible because of the Universal Spirit. Some people call it God. Others have unique names for it. What you call it doesn't matter." He paused, letting his words rest in the air for a few heartbeats before he pressed on. "You cannot force it. If you try to force it, it will simply cut itself off from you. Open yourself willingly, and the Spirit will act through you, but only if you are truly open and ready. Allow yourself to be this. Train hard, keep peace in your heart, and never strike in anger."
"But Master, aren't you training me to fight? These punches and kicks are designed to injure and kill. How is that peace?" confusion was evident in her voice. T'Sula looked desperately to her teacher, hoping that he would have the guidance that she wanted, that she needed. She had seen so much pain in her life, and now that she had a direction, she needed to know that it was the right one. She needed to know that with her new skills, she would be able to make a difference.
"There is an old maxim that says 'If you seek to know peace, you must first know war.'" Ch'Lan quietly stood and waited for T'Sula to follow. "No one hates war more than a soldier. It is time to rest now. I will see you tomorrow. Sleep well."
T'Sula watched her Master leave. His words had not fallen on deaf ears. She had heard everything that he had said, but she did not understand it. Why would a soldier hate war? Wasn't war the purpose of being a soldier? How could one hate their own purpose? How co
uld anyone know peace through war? These things made no sense to her as she sat in silent meditation.
The night darkened before T'Sula arose from her meditation. Ch'Lan had been right about one thing at least. It was time to rest. T'Sula quietly walked to her quarters, bathed and dressed for bed. The questions never left her mind.
She rose early in the morning, dressed for the day, and began her chores without a word. Taking care of the courtyard was an honor for her. It was where she trained and learned the most important lessons of her young life. Sweeping and cleaning it was a small price to pay.
As day broke over the monastery, T'Sula finished her chores and went to the dining hall for breakfast. Quietly she took her seat among the monks. Hundreds of men and women filled the hall, each keeping their thoughts quietly contained inside the confines of their own minds.
The smell of grains and fruit wafted through the dining hall as a troop of monks methodically served each of their comrades. T'Sula and the others waited respectfully until all were served, before they devoured their morning meal. Full and satisfied, each of the monks bussed their own places, and began the tasks for the remainder of the day.
T'Sula had made sure that her chores were complete before she ate, so that she could spend the day training. She hurried from the dining hall to the courtyard, eager to learn. What she found when she got there, was not what she had expected.
Arranged throughout the courtyard were a series of bricks standing on end. She watched as her Master, standing at the south end, bowed deeply to the north. He then stepped up onto the nearest bricks and began to move.
Ch'Lan stepped fluidly from brick to brick as he moved through an advanced form, using what T'Sula recognized as a Bo staff. As he went the bricks never wavered, and he never fell. Ch'Lan worked from south to north and east to west without toppling a brick, or missing a step.
T'Sula stood watching her Master in awe. She had never seen him display his ability in such a blatant manner. It was usually his quiet mannerisms and humility that showed through, instead of his physical prowess. She wondered to herself why he was showing her this, and then figured that he must have his reasons.
When Ch'Lan was finished, T'Sula quietly walked over to her Master, and greeted him with a deep bow. She had always respected him, and nothing would ever change that. He had been there when she needed someone the most. Respect was the least that she could give.
"Good morning T'Sula." Ch'Lan said, returning her bow.
"Good morning Master." a soft smile crossed her lips as she replied, raising from her bow.
"It is now your turn to practice on the bricks. The same form that you were doing yesterday, you will perform today." he pointed to the south end of the courtyard. "You will begin at the south, and go north. When you reach the north end, you will go south. Do not waiver, or topple a brick. If you do, you will begin again at the beginning."
She was ready, eager for her training. Even though she was ready, uncertainty revealed itself to her Master through her eyes. There was a fear there. The fear of failing. Failure had never been an option for T'Sula, but the fear of it was a constant companion.
"You must not question yourself. You will fail at times, and at others, you will succeed." Ch'Lan tried to reassure her as she stepped up on the bricks.
"I'll try Master." she said as she readied herself. T'Sula closed her eyes, and focused on her objective. She then opened her eyes and stepped. Picking up her foot, she immediately fell to the ground, hard.
Picking herself up, T'Sula put the bricks back in place. She moved back to the starting position, and began again. Again she fell. For most of the day, T'Sula repeatedly fell and started over. She worked through her mid-day and evening meals without notice. Occasionally she would succeed in moving across a few bricks, but inevitably, she would fall and start over.
"Stop trying, and just do it." Ch'Lan kept his voice level as he helped T'Sula to her feet. She was slow to get up, but she never wavered in her determination.
"I don't understand Master." T'Sula fought to keep the frustration from her voice. "How can I stop trying, and still accomplish this?" She tried to understand, to comprehend what she was being taught, but still failed.
"Sometimes when you try too hard, or focus too much, it gets in the way." his words were soothing as they reached his pupils ears. It was a truth that he had struggled to learn so long ago.
"Begin again, but this time, with these." Ch'Lan handed T'Sula a matching set of broad swords. The swords had gleaming steel blades, with polished gold pommels, and the hilts wrapped in brown leather. "Use the same form."
T'Sula looked at the swords in her hands. She felt their weight and balance. Without thinking about it, T'Sula started her form. She moved easily across the bricks. Before she knew it, she had worked her way across the bricks and back without falling.
"You were right Master. I am sorry for doubting you." T'Sula lowered her head in shame as she addressed Ch'Lan. She knew that she should never have doubted her teacher. He was the Master, not her.
"You did well child." Ch'Lan smiled slightly. It had taken her only a day to work the bricks. He hadn't been able to move across them for much longer than that. It had taken him closer to a month actually.
"Thank you..." T'Sula began, but was cut off by the screeching of aircraft, streaking through the sky overhead.
"Follow me." Ch'Lan ordered. His expression lost all semblance of civility. "Those are Regiment ships." he muttered, running toward the center of the courtyard. Raising his staff over his head, he rammed the tip of it deep into the hole in the center of the carved stone.
"What's going on?" T'Sula asked, drawing alongside of her teacher. She watched in shock as one of the stones dropped slightly, then slid away to reveal a passage, a hole that dropped away into the depths.
"I'll explain on the way. For now, just keep up with me." Ch'Lan spoke over his shoulder as he bolted for the passage. T'Sula managed to secure her swords to her back as she ran. Ch'Lan simply carried his staff in his hand, as if it was just another part of him. Teacher and student reached the passage just as the ships returned, and began to rain destruction down upon the monastery.
Fastened into the stone wall, was a metal ladder that ran farther than the light allowed to see. There was no hesitation as Ch'Lan and T'Sula climbed down as quickly as they could. Minutes passed in silence while they went deeper and deeper into the ground. Finally, it was Ch'Lan that broke the silence.
"Not everything is as it seems here, T'Sula." his voice showed no signs of exertion. "The Regiment has wanted to find us for some time now, and destroy us if they can."
T'Sula looked into the darkness, and found a glimmer of hope. In the distance, there was a pale blue light. It was small, but steady, and that gave her hope against the oppressive darkness.
"Don't they want to destroy everyone?" she asked before she remembered whom she was talking to.
"They do, but they want us more." Ch'Lan climbed off the ladder and stepped into the light. They were now in a tunnel, lit with blue and white lights running along the edges of the floor. It wasn't a long tunnel, maybe a dozen meters. At the other end was a door.
The door was large and heavy, being made of metal, and held in place with a heavy electronic lock. Ch'Lan walked purposefully forward and entered a code into the key pad. The door was surprisingly quiet as it slid open, revealing a room filled with computers and military personnel.
"They want the Resistance dead, Lieutenant." Ch'Lan said, glancing back at his student. "Before we continue, always remember two things. Remember who you are, and that you are always my student."
T'Sula gazed at her Master. He was there, and then he was gone. "I am T'Sula Mir." she quietly repeated to herself over and over, steadily building to a crescendo.
"I am T'Sula Mir!" She roared, as her eyes snapped open.
Her eyes fell heavily upon the Ta'Reeth that surrounded her. She was lying on her back, restrained to a table at her waist, wrists, and a
nkles.
"I am T'Sula Mir!" she yelled again. The Ta'Reeth recoiled at the venom in her voice. They had seen her in action, and had no desire to inflict their own demise.
T'Sula pulled against her restraints, testing them for weaknesses. Finding none, she relaxed her muscles and started thinking of other means of escape. With each escape that she tried, her restraints tightened as she moved, and relaxed when she held still.
"It's pointless for you to continue like this." Malek's voice came from just beyond T'Sula's sight. "We're not here to hurt you."
T'Sula strained to look at Malek. She turned her head as far as she could manage, before the cords attached to her temples stopped her. She pulled harder, until the cords started to rip away from her skull.
"You might want to stop before you hurt yourself." Malek stepped forward so that T'Sula could see him. He smiled a smile that sent waves of revulsion through her. "Go back to sleep now. Sweet dreams."
T'Sula fell back against the table, instantly unconscious. Torrents of memories tumbled unbidden across the landscape of her mind, causing her to question the very reality of her existence. Still she held fast to one thing. She remembered that she was T'Sula Mir.