Malachi

by Ashley West

  Malachi took her hands in his and squeezed them gently, kissing her fingers and looking her right in the eyes. "You can do it," he said. "You're braver than you think you are. You'll be fine."

  "Will you be fine?" Emma asked, looking up at him anxiously.

  "Of course. The Alva haven't managed to kill me yet, and I don't plan on letting this change that."

  “Promise you’ll be careful,” she whispered, and Malachi could see the fear in her eyes. She had never seen him fight before. All she had to go on was what other people said about him, but that probably wasn’t enough to keep her from worrying. Still, he was touched that she cared.

  “I promise,” Malachi said, taking her into his arms. “You promise the same.”

  “I promise.”

  “Good. Let’s keep those promises and see this through.”

  She nodded, and they held each other for a moment. This would usually be where he and Thyrra were going at it to work off their tension on the eve of battle, but this was better. It made Malachi realize that there was more to life than fighting and the lead up to fighting. The quiet moments were just as nice, and he held Emma close to him all that night, soaking it in before he would have to fight the next day.

  The night passed in no time, and they all rose before the sun, getting themselves outfitted and armed. Emma got the smallest armor they had, which was still too big on her, and Malachi checked it to make sure she could move. It was heavily padded, but there was no metal or plate to weigh her down.

  They didn't speak as they got ready, and together they filed into line with the others, ready to go meet the warship so they could march to the Alva's compound.

  Emma squeezed Malachi's hand once more and then went to get into position. Priya and Oro were going to be her guard, helping her ferry humans back and forth while making sure they weren't attacked, and they flanked her on either side as they moved as one mass in straight lines towards the Alva's building.

  No one came to meet them at first, but when they got to the door, the guards were there. Their eyes widened as they took in the force that had come to meet them and one of them went tearing into the building while the other three leveled their weapons at the front lines where Malachi was waiting.

  "I wouldn't do that if I were you," Malachi said, command dripping from his tone. "You're heavily outnumbered, and you'll be dead before anyone can get to you."

  Of course they attacked anyway, and Malachi and the others in the front cut them down easily. Malachi made himself watch as they died.

  There was an open lot behind the building, nearly three acres of space that was empty and probably used for something before the Alva had taken over this building. A horn blew from that direction and there was the sound of shifting metal and then a door slid up, revealing over a hundred armed humans. They didn't have armor, just their ragged clothing and weapons, and Malachi sighed and then gave the order.

  They'd discussed this part at length. It had to go just right. They marched around the building to where the human force was, knowing that the Alva were scrambling to get themselves together inside.

  Five of the fastest Randoran slipped into the building, hoping to take out as many of the Alva as they could, and the rest stood in front of the humans.

  If everything had gone according to plan, then the word would have spread that they wouldn't be harmed if they didn't fight. If they let the Randoran help.

  Malachi lifted his hand and tension sang in the air, humans and Randoran alike gripping the hilts of their weapons and staring each other down. And then Malachi dropped his hand, and every Randoran with him dropped their weapons. A clear sign that they didn't mean to fight the humans.

  For a moment, nothing happened, and Malachi held his breath. Emma had been sure it would work. She said that the humans needed a gesture. They wanted to trust the Randoran to save them, but they needed to know they weren't walking into a trap. Laying down their weapons was a pretty literal way to show that they didn't mean them harm.

  Come on, Malachi thought. Come on.

  And then, slowly but surely, the humans tossed their weapons aside as well. A sword clattered to the ground here, an axe was thrown away there. They looked afraid still, like they were expecting the attack to come when they were unarmed, and Malachi knew that standing in front of the assembled mass of the Randoran couldn't be easy. But they had done what they needed them to do, and now they would be safe.

  "Emma," Malachi said, voice carrying. "Now."

  Some of the humans flinched, but nothing happened to them. Emma came forward out of the lines, Priya and Oro on either side of her. Her eyes darted around, as if making sure she wasn't going to be shot from a window or something.

  A yell echoed from inside the building, and she jerked in surprise, but then kept moving. "Come with me," she said, once she was close enough. "We're going to take you to safety."

  "You're human," said the man in the front of the human jumble, and Emma nodded.

  "Yes. I'm here to help."

  Those who already knew who Emma was fell into line with her immediately, and those who still seemed wary were obviously reassured by the presence of someone else like them.

  "What about our families?" someone asked, their voice tremulous and quiet.

  "We'll save them," Malachi promised. "We'll bring them to you."

  "Please," Emma said. "We have to go before the Alva get out here."

  That seemed to be enough to spur on those who had been hesitating, and Malachi watched as Emma led them away from what was soon to be a battlefield. He was proud of her. She wasn't the same woman he had rescued from here when he'd first arrived. The one who refused to speak and had begged him not to send her away. She'd grown brave, and she wanted to help.

  "Stars be with her," he murmured and then turned back to the matter at hand. With the humans gone, there was nothing to stop them from rushing into the building, but they weren't going to do that. The last thing he wanted was for the Alva to have the advantage or for them to start killing the humans. The warriors who were inside were going to make sure that didn't happen.

  The seconds ticked by, and the Randoran rearmed themselves, standing ready. Another shout went up from the building, but no one moved, they stood there, holding their ground, ready to attack.

  And then the door swung open and the first wave of the Alva poured out. Huge and hulking, armed with axes that they swung with the intent to kill.

  The setting was unfamiliar, but the rest of it was just like coming home. Malachi had been fighting the Alva since he was much younger, and he was very good at it. He didn't even have to think much about it, really. His body knew the motions, his muscles remembered what to do, and he lifted his sword and fought.

  All around him was chaos, Alva letting out their guttural battle cries while the Randoran yelled their own and engaged them. The Randoran were nearly out-numbered, but that had never stopped them before. They fought with precision and skill that came from years of training, and their teamwork gave them an edge that the Alva couldn't hope to beat.

  Malachi ran one opponent through and then turned sharply to engage another, blocking a swing from his sword in a shower of sparks. He needed to find the leader.

  The Alva fought viciously, but they were like any organism. They couldn't survive without their head. If he cut down their leader, then the rest would falter and there wouldn't be a foothold for them to reestablish control here.

  "Champion, look out!" someone shouted, and Malachi turned in time to see the very Alva he had been looking for, heading towards him in a rush. His sword was leveled right for Malachi's heart, and he growled as he jumped out of the way.

  As if sensing that this was going to be a decisive fight, the rest of their assembled groups pushed back, still fighting in pockets, but leaving them space in the center to go at each other.

  Malachi narrowed his eyes, fingers clenching around the hilt of his beam sword.

  "You die here," the Alvan leader growled ou
t. "Today. All of you fall and no more Randoran."

  It was a dire threat, claiming to want to wipe out an entire race, but Malachi let it roll off of him. He was confident that he wouldn't have to worry about it.

  Somehow, this felt final to him. Whatever happened here, this would be the last clash between him and the Alva. He couldn't see that being the case, but that was how it felt to him, and it made him push harder to try and get this over with.

  His people were fighting around him, Emma was leading the humans to safety, there were still more people counting on him, and he was the Champion of the Randoran. He put his focus on his enemy. He put his trust in his weapon, as he had so many times before. And he fought.

  The Alvan leader was bigger than him and stronger, but Malachi was smarter, faster, and more skilled. He dodged blows that would have killed him if they connected, earning bruises and scrapes for his trouble, and he tried to keep the Alva on the defensive, attacking mercilessly with his sword. If he could disarm the leader, then he'd have an opening.

  The trouble with fighting with weapons that were crudely designed was that they weren't sturdy when they needed to be, and so two clean slices with the heat of his beam sword were all that was needed to cut right through the sword, metal and all.

  It clattered to the ground in pieces, and Malachi stood there, breathing hard, regarding the leader with a hard glare.

  “Still think you’re going to kill me?” he asked.

  Now the leader didn’t seem so sure, but he roared anyway and lunged for Malachi, making him jump back with a swear. Claws raked at his chest, drawing blood that soaked into his padding. It hurt, but it wasn’t the end of the world. He could still fight. All he had to do was aim this properly.

  His sword was helpful in deflecting blows from those claws, and he focused on wearing his opponent down, blocking him and giving him injuries with the beam of his weapon.

  When the leader was breathing hard and dragging, Malachi struck, ducking under the swipe of claws and burying his sword in the Alvan leader’s belly with a firm shove.

  The leader gasped for breath, and choked out a mouthful of blood that splashed onto Malachi from above. He shuddered and then fell, twitching on the ground until he went still, a hole burned right through him.

  Malachi stood over him with narrowed eyes, waiting to see if he was going to get back up.

  He didn’t.

  More Alva fell around him as his people continued to fight. Seeing their Champion victorious spurred them to fight harder, cheering and pushing themselves, taking down their enemies.

  In the end, the battle was won. The Randoran suffered a few casualties and more injuries, but they were victorious. They freed the humans from their cages and led them to where the rest of them were waiting.

  Emma searched the crowd for Malachi, and he smiled at her when her eyes widened, taking in the sight of him.

  “None of the blood is mine,” he promised, and she let out a sigh of relief and then threw herself at him in a hug.

  “You did it!”

  “We did it,” he corrected her and then let out a sigh. There was still much to be done. They had to find any other pockets of the Alva hiding on Earth and take care of them. They had to make sure all the humans were safe. They had to speak with the General about what had happened, and then they had to make the journey home.

  For some reason, thinking about leaving turned Malachi’s stomach.

  Everything that he had been before he came here seemed...wrong now. This battle with the Alva had taken it out of him, and he realized that he didn't want to do it anymore. He wanted to help people still, he wanted to make sure that no one came to harm, but he was tired of being a champion.

  Maybe he had been for a while, and it had just taken this to make him realize it. Or maybe it was something else.

  Malachi didn't know for sure, but he knew that as he stood there watching Emma make sure people had the food and water that had been brought for them, that he wanted to experience something else in his life before he died.

  There wasn't much time to dwell on it after the battle, though. Groups were formed and they went out, hunting for the Alva. Some were discovered, and they'd obviously heard that their leader was no more because they were easy to take down, wandering around confused as to what they were meant to be doing.

  "I almost feel sorry for them," someone said as they killed those they had found.

  Malachi did, too. Almost. But they had done this to themselves, and he made himself remember that as they were killed.

  They didn't have time to search everywhere, and the humans would have to be taught how to defend themselves from the Alva that were remaining, though without their leader, Malachi didn't think they'd be able to do much to get their revenge.

  Their time on Earth was drawing to a close, and even though they didn't give the General the full details of the battle until after it had happened and they'd won, he was pleased with how things had gone.

  "Clean up there and come home," he said. "You've all earned yourselves a rest."

  Most of them agreed that a rest sounded good. Malachi was still stuck on the 'come home' part.

  His family was there, and it was where he belonged, but it...just didn't feel right. The more he thought about leaving, the more he considered not being able to see Emma everyday... It was just wrong to him.

  Everyone else was excited, talking about seeing loved ones and friends again, having drinks and the cantina, breathing air that wasn't thick with pollutants, and Malachi couldn't bring himself to be excited too.

  Emma was very carefully not talking about it. He knew she would miss him and that she didn't know what she was going to do with them gone. Anything she wanted, clearly, but knowing where to start was a problem.

  Sometimes he'd see her looking at him, sadness in her eyes, but she never said anything.

  If people noticed that he was distracted in the run up to their departure date, then no one mentioned it, and Malachi took the reprieve to really think about what he wanted and come to a decision he could not only live with, but also one that would make him happy.

  Chapter Fourteen: Decision

  In the end, it wasn't a hard decision to make. There were more Alva than just the ones they’d killed on Earth, but with the blow they'd struck against them, it would take some time for them to organize themselves enough to form a force to strike back against the Randoran. Which meant Dorn would continue to be safer from Alva attack for some time. By the time they had regrouped, the ranks of the Randoran warriors would be stronger than ever.

  Malachi thought about it as he lay in bed with Emma for what was supposed to be the last time. She was tucked against his side, one of her small hands resting on his chest.

  Her face was pressed to the crook of his neck, and he could feel her soft breathing against his skin, warm and welcome. She was such a new and different thing from what he'd been expecting, but something Malachi had learned from his time on Earth was that expectations were rarely useful. Sometimes you had to improvise on the fly because what you pictured in your head was not what was going to happen.

  And he was...fine with that. Malachi liked to think that he wasn't yet too old and set in his ways to change, and this decision he had made was proof of that.

  The sun came up gradually, spilling soft light into the room, and Malachi smiled. He could get used to there only being one sun. It was cooler on Earth, and he supposed he'd have less reason to be out in the heat anyway.

  When the sky turned from orange and pink to true blue, he eased himself out of bed and got dressed as quietly as he could, walking on light feet out of the room and to the dining area. Most of the crew had already assembled, ready for their last meal on this planet. As he walked in, they looked up at him and saluted.

  "We should be ready to go in the next couple of hours, sir," one of them said.

  "I think I might miss this rock," Priya murmured with a wistful smile.

  "I think you miss y
our son more," Malachi said, and she looked pleasantly surprised that he'd remembered.

  "As you say, sir."

  As the rest of them trickled in, Malachi took in the scene. These were people that he'd traveled across the galaxy with, who had fought beside him both here and back on Dorn. He'd trust any of them with his life, and he knew that even without him, they would be fine.

  "I have something I'd like to say," Malachi said once they'd all filled their plates with food. Every head swiveled to look at him, and he regarded them all with calm eyes. "This mission could have gone wrong in so many ways. There could have been more loss of life on our side or the humans. There could have been those who refused to help a race you don't really know much about. But none of that happened. Because the Randoran produce the finest warriors in the universe, and you're all exceptional."

  A cheer went up from them all, people banging cups and utensils against the table. Malachi smiled and let it go on for a bit before clearing his throat. "I'm not one for long speeches; I'm not the General, but I just wanted to say that. I might be the Champion, but without each and every one of you, I wouldn't have been able to do anything. I'm going to miss you all."

  Another cheer rang out, and Malachi smiled a secret smile until someone caught on. "Wait. What do you mean, you're going to miss us?" Oro asked. "Where are you going?"

  "It's more like...where I'm not going," Malachi replied.

  "You're staying here?" That was from Priya, who was looking at him with wide eyes.

  Malachi nodded. "Yes."

  "But...you can't!" someone exclaimed.

  "Who's going to lead us?" someone else wanted to know.

  "You're the Champion!"

  "I was the Champion. But I think it's time for someone else to take that title. I don't think I can do it justice anymore."

  He left them to their confusion and made his way to the control terminal to make sure everything was ready for the journey back to Dorn. He might not have been going back, but he wanted to make sure his people had everything they needed to get back safely.