by Tammy Walsh
The bright lights zoomed in closer. Already, I could make out their undercarriages glowing brightly with luminous plasma.
Purple. Green. Yellow.
Soon, Fiath wouldn’t be the only person sporting horrific burns. The entire village would be. It would be burnt to the ground.
The warriors came out of their huts armed with spears.
What did they think they could do with them with the ships rushing closer every moment? I wondered.
The tribe chief barked his orders. The warriors split into two groups.
At least they would go down fighting, I supposed.
I retrieved more boxes of medical supplies and added them to the carts.
“That’s everything!” the surgeon said. He turned to me. “Get on the cart and go with them.”
“What about you?” I said.
“Somebody has to take care of the injured here.”
“I’ll help you.”
He placed a hand on my shoulder.
“You’re doing enough,” he said. “Help the others. And help us win.”
He wore a mask of grim determination. It was going to be a hard fight, that expression said. And we’re going to need all the help we can get.
I boarded the cart. The arlath pulled forward, tugging the cart behind it. There were three carts, each packed with patients and provisions.
The drivers didn’t slow down, not even when someone got in their way. Those that got knocked over bolted up onto their feet, dusted themselves off, collected their spears, and took off again.
I had front row seats, watching as the shuttlecraft warships came thundering in overhead. Their undercarriage plasma cannons made loud high-pitched noises as they charged and unloaded. The bolt of plasma expelled from the weapons was a solid beam that sliced through the forest and swung in an arc. The huts didn’t burst into flames. Instead, they exploded and melted before my eyes.
The first ship pulled up and banked hard to make another pass.
The other two ships came in hot and released their luminous bolts of liquid plasma. It was so hot it turned white the moment it struck the earth.
One of the ships screeched, leaned to one side, and struck the second ship.
Something had brought it down. But what?
A mechanical fault?
I couldn’t see what caused it.
I peered closer and noticed Titan warriors led by their chief atop Emperor’s Peak. They ran a few short steps and threw their spears.
I marveled at the distance, speed, and strength with which they hurled them.
They were more like missiles.
The spears struck the ships so hard they sliced through their hulls with ease. They must have been tipped with something.
The warriors hurled more spears that made the shuttlecraft resemble a pin cushion.
The ship pulled up but the thrusters didn’t respond. It smashed into the village and tumbled end over end. The arlaths pulling the carts screamed and rose up on their hind legs.
Alerted to the danger, the remaining shuttlecraft steered toward Emperor’s Peak and fired on it.
One moment the warriors were there, and the next, they were gone.
The arlaths turned a corner and the scene was wiped from view.
But the sounds…
The sounds remained and would haunt me for the rest of my life.
The cart pulled to a stop.
The driver climbed off and began unloading it. He began with the injured and placed them inside a canoe waiting on the riverbank. One patient per canoe, and a couple boxes of resources.
I hated to think why they divided everything up this way. Perhaps because they didn’t expect everyone to reach their destination?
A nurse was placed at the back of each canoe, so they were paired with a patient.
I was placed in a boat with Fiath.
He looked up at me and our eyes met.
There was no happiness on his face to be found. Only disappointment.
I saw it on many of the fleeing Titans’ faces. They were disappointed they couldn’t fight alongside their brothers and sisters.
And die if necessary.
“Head to the Fallen Temple,” our cart driver said. “Do you know where it is?”
I shook my head.
“I do,” Fiath said
The driver nodded.
“Okay then,” he said. “Follow the others. If you get separated, listen to your patient’s instructions.”
He shoved my canoe off the bank and into the river.
Within moments, the current caught us and swept us along. I paddled hard with the half-oar I found under my seat and tried to keep up with the others.
It was no use. They were far stronger than me. The best I could do was keep them in sight.
We were moving. That was the main thing. It seemed almost calm on the river after the attack on the tribe. It was easy to forget what was happening behind us.
I peered back and saw the rising plumes of black smoke that rose into the sky.
They were fighting. And dying.
And I was running.
Wiiiiiing!
The blood fell from my face.
I could have recognized that sound anywhere.
Fiath faced the opposite direction to me. He sat up on his elbows and his eyes rose into the sky.
To the shuttlecraft I knew had to be heading directly for us.
“Look out!” Fiath bellowed.
The shuttlecraft was dented and broken. Multiple spears protruded from its broken windshield. But its plasma cannon was still in perfect working order.
Instead of whirring and winding up to unleash a powerful single blast, it unloaded chain gun style, spitting tiny bolts of plasma that hissed when they hit the water’s surface, beating a path directly for us.
I was frozen with fear.
Everything was happening so fast, I didn’t have time to react.
Fiath grabbed the sides of our canoe and tossed his weight to one side, throwing us overboard.
Bolts of luminous white, blue, and yellow struck the water and penetrated a yard deep.
I struggled to the surface. When I reached it, I threw my head back and gulped a lungful of oxygen.
Our canoe was demolished, punctured with a dozen holes, most of which were already aflame.
All those valuable supplies had been wasted.
But that was nothing compared to the devastation I saw ahead.
The shuttlecraft sliced a thick blast of plasma through the other boats ahead. I couldn’t make out other survivors.
The injured patients didn’t stand a chance.
And the nurses…
The nurses.
They wouldn’t leave their patients behind.
If I needed more evidence the Changelings were merciless demonic creatures, this was it. These things needed to be taken down. They needed to be punished for what they were doing to an innocent species.
They needed to be destroyed.
“Over here!” Fiath yelled.
He lay sprawled across the muddy embankment of the river. I swam over to him, my clothes suddenly soaked and heavy. When I drew close to Fiath, he grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and dragged me onto shore beside him.
Impressive, considering the extent of his injuries.
A thick bough of leaves hung overhead and hid us from view.
The shuttlecraft passed by, looking for survivors. Every few moments, it unloaded into the river.
The Titans didn’t stand a chance.
“Can you walk?” Fiath said.
It should have been me asking that question.
“Yes,” I said.
“Then let’s get out of here,” he said.
Together, we struggled up onto our feet. I supported him as much as he supported me.
We traipsed into the forest, into a dark and unknown new world.
Fiath
“I can’t keep going!” Hazel said.
Her legs sho
ok and she fell to the ground on her hands and knees.
I checked over my shoulder. The riverbank was less than five hundred yards away. The water’s surface flashed as a Changeling ship passed a spotlight over it.
“We’re too close to the river,” I said. “It’s too easy for them to find us here.”
Hazel’s body shook.
I was pushing her too hard. She was human. She wasn’t used to these surroundings, and—
Her body shuddered and she began to weep. She wasn’t weary from the physical exertion, I realized. She was weary because of the things she’d seen.
She sat back on her ass in a pile of damp leaves and pressed her hands to her face. She wept, too loud for my liking, but I would not quieten her. We had a little time before the Changelings combed the area. Not much time, but some.
The silence pressed in on us, silence from the screams and the shouts and the plasma shots and the shuttlecraft zooming overhead. A foreboding silence.
I was focused on escaping and getting away from the danger zone. Hazel was still dwelling on the things she’d witnessed.
“I’m sorry for what happened,” I said.
Hazel shook her head and continued to cry.
“Why did they have to kill all those people?” she said. “They were innocent! There were children! Kids!”
Her face screwed up and the tears cascaded over her cheeks. Even now, she was beautiful.
I considered revealing who I really was, that I was the great and powerful Titan emperor. The Lord Of A Thousand Suns. The heart, hope, and dreams of every Titan in the galaxy…
Who had failed his people.
Who had failed in his duty to protect them.
Hazel was not a Titan. She would not be impressed by my accolades. With my current appearance, I wasn’t sure it would give heart to many Titans either.
I didn’t deserve to be the emperor.
I wanted to reach out and touch her.
Should I? Was it the right thing to do?
I wanted to calm her, ease her worried mind. For my entire life, few had ever touched me. Even my closest allies, Garrick and Slak, never dared touch me. It was against the law to touch the emperor. For much of my life, I’d never felt the warm glow of friendship, never mind love.
It was an alien concept to me, as alien as Hazel was. Then perhaps, by that logic, as an alien, I could treat her differently to the way I treated Titans?
I reached out a hand and gently placed it on her arm.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” I said.
She didn’t flinch at the touch of my hand. Instead, she took comfort in it.
I place my other hand on her other arm, and again, she didn’t flinch. Hugging her from this angle was awkward. Her legs were in the way and it would have seemed strange.
She seemed so small sitting there.
A single human on this world, alone, forced into a war-like situation that should have had nothing to do with her.
I moved around her, sat down, and wrapped my arms around her from behind.
I placed my legs on either side and made sure my crotch was pulled back from her.
“What are you doing?” she said.
She looked at me cautiously over her shoulder but didn’t stop me.
I wrapped my arms around her and placed my chin on her shoulder.
She accepted the warmth.
I gently rocked us side to side. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was acting on instinct. I had never done anything like this before.
And then I surprised myself. I began to sing.
It was a low hum in the back of my throat. She must have felt the vibrations on her back but she didn’t complain. It was a song of mourning and loss, for all those who had perished.
All those I had failed.
Hazel stopped crying and sniffing. She placed her hand on mine. Then she hummed along with me. The vibrations she sent through my body were a tiny tremor compared to my gushing river. So delicate, so beautiful. Her tune altered and we sang together, forming a duet of sadness.
I shut my eyes and images of the past hour or more fluttered through my mind.
The tragic deaths.
And the fallen.
Hazel sniffed through her blocked nose. Then she wiped away the tears from her eyes and nodded.
“It’s not your fault,” she said. “It’s those damn Changeling things. They came here and did whatever they wanted. Where was the Titan military? Where were the defenses? If the Titan empire is so mighty, so powerful, why did they sit by and do nothing?”
Her words stung. The truth was, this was my fault. I was the one who made the decisions. I was the emperor. I was supposed to protect the people.
And I had failed.
I had failed in my duties today as much as I had my entire life. Somehow, the Changelings slipped under the radar, somehow they had found a chink in our armor, and exploited it to full effect.
The emperor was supposed to protect his people.
Instead, I let them down.
But I would not let Hazel down.
Our mourning song came to a close.
How long did we sing?
Five minutes? Twenty?
I had no idea.
But when I opened my eyes, I felt a little refreshed. The memories would stay with me forever but at least now I could begin to mourn those that had lost their lives, and the countless others on hundreds of other colonies spread throughout the empire.
“That was beautiful,” Hazel said.
“The fallen will be avenged,” I said.
I was surprised at the certainty in my voice.
Hazel peered over her shoulder at me. When she looked at me like that, with that quirk to her lips and a gleam in her eye, I felt like I could do anything.
“Is that what we’ll do when we get to the Fallen Temple?” she said.
“From there, the tribes will meet up, and we’ll formulate a plan of attack,” I said. “This is our land. This is our home. They cannot take it from us so easily.”
Hazel’s smile broadened. She sniffed and wiped a hand under her nose.
“Then we’d better get going,” she said. “The sooner we get to this Fallen Temple, the sooner we can kick these Changelings’ ass.”
I released her and got to my feet.
She dusted off her pants and had grown in confidence.
“Lead the way,” she said.
We marched through the forest, on our way to redemption and light.
And a whole lot of revenge.
We didn’t stop for another hour. We trudged through the dense forest, darkness pressing in on us. We supported each other. She helped me with my weakened leg and I helped her stay upright and not collapse with exhaustion.
“Just a little further,” I said.
It kept her going. But I secretly knew that every time I said that, it was a lie.
There would be no end to our running. Not until we reached the Fallen Temple on the other side of the forest.
Finally, with sweat dripping down our faces and our limbs aching to high heaven, we came to a stop at a small clearing. It was lit by moonlight that streamed through the open canopy above our heads. A brook ran through the middle of it. The water looked clean but that meant nothing.
Sometimes the most dangerous things were those that looked the safest.
I had to drink it or risk dying from dehydration. I bent down and scooped it up with my hand.
Hazel dropped to her knees beside me. I blocked her from touching it.
“Wait,” I said. “Let me see if it’s clean.”
“You’re sick,” she said. “I should be the one to test it.”
“You’re not from here. It might be more harmful to you than me.”
It didn’t taste foul and I felt no negative effects. It was, to my senses at least, clean. I gave Hazel a nod.
She slurped the water into her mouth hungrily. She drank so much I thought she might run the brook dry.
“We need to get out of these wet clothes,” Hazel said.
Out of these wet clothes… and into what?
We had no other clothes on us. Night was drawing in and brought a chill with it. It would make us very sick by morning.
If we managed to survive the cold snap.
I looked her over uncertainly.
Hazel pressed her hands on her hips.
“I’m a nurse,” she said. “Nakedness doesn’t bother me.”
It bothered me!
Besides, I doubted we would be much warmer without wearing clothes.
I approached the huge leaves that hung from the Nurture Tree and tugged them off. I climbed the tree to the closest branch and peered around it until I found what I was looking for.
I ran my finger along the bark and came out with a thick glob of tree sap.
“What are you doing?” Hazel said.
“Making some blankets,” I said.
I laid the broad leaves down and applied a dob of tree sap to each side. I overlapped the leaves, forming a large blanket.
Hazel understood what I was doing and cleared away some of the damp leaves on the ground.
It was the first time I’d done this since I was a boy. The activity conjured up all sorts of memories from when I used to travel the empire with my father, learning and training, and developing relationships with the next generation of lords and ladies that I would foster into the future.
Some I liked, others I didn’t. But the outings into the countryside and surrounding nature were always my favorite.
“Shouldn’t we make a fire?” Hazel said.
“The Changelings might see it,” I said. “We can’t take the risk.”
“What about food? Are any of these plants edible?”
“Some. But not in this area. Don’t worry. I swiped some of the provisions from the resources in the boat earlier. I saw the ships coming toward us and thought we might end up in this situation.”
I pulled the bread from my pocket and handed it to her.
Hazel’s eyes widened. She took it gratefully from my hand and immediately wolfed down a slice. Watching her with her complete lack of manners made me smile.
I wolfed down my slice too. It wasn’t the most delicious food in the world but it was nutritious and filled a hole.
“I have more,” I said, handing it over. “For breakfast in the morning.”