Annals of the Keepers - Rage

by Christiaan Hile

  Droe walked away as the Cuukzen guards pushed their captive to the ground, dragging him away kicking and screaming beyond the walled gates of the city.

  ∞∞∞

  The Human delegation entered the ramp of the Mercador.

  Major Chion Danchall was first to greet them. “Well, that didn’t take long.”

  Droe stopped as the other troops ventured into the hold of the assault ship. “I wasn’t going to let that scum start monologuing. He got what was coming to him.”

  Chion smiled. “And that’s how it’s done. Congratulations on your first mission, lieutenant commander.”

  “Thanks. Some first shakedown run, huh?”

  “Those are the best kind,” the major said as the ramp raised. “Where to now, lieutenant commander?”

  Droe smiled. “Anywhere there’s hard liquor. I need a drink.”

  “I know just the place back on Evoke.”

  “Great. You’re flying so let’s get moving.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The two women smiled as the Mercador lifted off heading back up to the Soul’s Edge.

  Data Cell 15

  Avog’s roar echoed through the corridor, pain tinged with promising retribution.

  The medics shook with fear as they stitched his wounds.

  The Vartis had scored deep furrows in the thick hump of muscle behind the aythra’s head with the zartil. The Gashnee weapon had burned through his flesh with plasma more concentrated even than the Humans’ inferior imitations. The skin continued to bleed, the heat too great even for the skin to react in time.

  The wounds were cauterized to stop the majority of the bleeding, but had to be reopened by strategically slicing into the uninjured layer of muscle beneath so the new bio-grafts could vascularize and adhere.

  The familiar howls of rage and pain made Lintorth shake his head. He empathized with the beast, as he himself had gone through many of the grafting procedures in his youth during the Gashnee War.

  Avog had done well, as the blood of five Vrae recruits and one Vartis stained his maw.

  “How fares the Vrae heir?” Lintorth directed his question at the Korin Shai stationed inside his conference chamber. “He was unconscious, last I saw him on Oxgris.”

  “Arivan carried him from the battle. He was concussed, suffered minor wounds, and frightened…but alive,” the Korin Shai said in a quiet, hissing voice.

  “The Vartis Guards lasted longer than the brat’s arrogance, before they were killed,” Lintorth lamented. “It must be difficult for the Lordlet to make any decisions on his own, much less ones of any import.”

  “He decided not to eat this day. A…demonstration no doubt,” the Korin Shai replied. “A show of…” the Korin Shai thought for a moment, “fortitude, one could say, if one was charitable.”

  “He has much to learn and not enough time, the heir,” Lintorth said. “He is typical of the Vrae nobility: quick to offend, quick to anger, and much too slow to contemplate the consequences – or much else.”

  Turning his attention to the crew at their stations below, Lintorth reflected on the Human remains they had discovered on Oxgris. They weren’t useful enough to provide definitive clues to the location of the Humans’ new homeworld, but they did prove that their migration had been less than ideal. Perhaps the Humans resided on a planet considered inhospitable by galactic standards.

  The confrontation on Oxgris had served to create a new opportunity in Lintorth’s search for information. His hostage was more valuable than he had first anticipated.

  The Vrae Empire had specialists who made lifelong careers studying Gashnee technologies since the end of the Gashnee War centuries ago. Entire fields of study were devoted to uncovering the secrets of Gashnee technology. Priceless and irreplaceable starships were tested, maintained, and crewed. Weapons went through a regular gauntlet of examinations, then were sent to trusted military personnel to bolster the firepower and lethality of Vrae forces. Fragmented or inoperable pieces were often grafted onto existing pieces of Vrae technology in order to improve them. All the while, the Vrae attempted to duplicate more and more of Gashnee technology for themselves, sometimes even succeeding.

  A hologram flickered into life before Lintorth. He wasn’t near his command console. It just…appeared before him.

  The lower part of the body solidified first, then the head. The torso, covered in a red and black robe, winked in and out of focus and changed from vibrant hues to grainy monochrome.

  It was a Vrae. In fact, it was Issara, the Lord of Dal Karsis. Lintorth watched, perplexed, as the Vrae’s mouth moved but no sound came out of it. As the Kryth continued to stare in silence, the Vrae’s frustration became apparent. The imposing message – or what was meant to be imposing – evaporated when members of Lintorth’s crew around him began laughing as Issara started yelling in silent frustration behind himself.

  Lintorth crossed his vast arms, watching the holographic spectacle. The virtual image turned and berated unseen – what he assumed were subordinates – outside the scope of the projection. How this was possible, he had no idea, but the Vrae hadn’t mastered it either. The Vrae ship’s engines glowed for a few seconds and the hologram solidified until it appeared to be Issara in the flesh, his once-silent protests now sounded as if he stood before them.

  “Well? Are we within range now?” The Vrae turned back to face Lintorth and resumed his earlier posture, as if he hadn’t just been yelling and throwing a tantrum. He looked up at Lintorth, then covered his mouth and whispered. No sound came out of the hologram. A moment later, the Vrae was looking at Lintorth in the eye and looking very smug about it.

  Lintorth snorted.

  “Ah, yes. Kryth Master of the Bytrician Conclave. I see you have come to mediate terms for the incursion on Oxgris in accordance with the treaties honored by both the Vrae Javril Empire and the Domain of the Kryth Mahr,” the Vrae stated.

  “Thank the Four-Fold Gods we did not have to endure the entirety of your honorifics.”

  The Vrae glared at Lintorth, unused to the blatant lack of respect and obedience to one’s superiors engrained into every Vrae offspring.

  “One shouldn’t ridicule venerated aspects of a more civilized society.” Issara sighed as if correcting an unruly child. “This is the second unexpected communication I’ve had this cycle, Kryth. I find it interesting, almost as interesting as a Kryth vessel entering Empire territory unescorted and unbidden.”

  “Neither Vrae Javril territory nor Kryth Mahr territory has static borders,” Lintorth began, shifting his tone to a more diplomatic tone. “It is as malleable as our ability to defend them. Someone is always willing to take advantage of another’s weakness.”

  “Ah.” Issara nodded. “It is the natural way of the powerful to grasp advantage, in nature and in politics,” he quoted. “Tell me, what game does the Si Lord play in sending you to this sector, Lintorth Sar?” Issara sneared.

  Lintorth grit his teeth at the correction of his name. “I am a loyal servant of the Domain,” Lintorth responded. “Pledged to her will.”

  Issara raised an eyebrow. “Her will? Did her ‘will’ extend to the recent massacre on Oxgris, Kryth?

  “Oxgris?” Lintorth asked, feigning a confused tone and widening his eyes for effect. He tapped his chin, then shrugged before answering Issara. “I have been traveling after all.” He turned to the Korin Shai behind him. “Was that the name of that barren one or the methane swamp one? I do not recall.”

  “The red planet, my lord,” the unmoving Korin Shai answered.

  “I seem to remember the bleakness of one planet. Ruins and bones strewn across red sands…” Lintorth trailed off, seemingly trying to remember something important but fleeting.

  “You entered Vrae Javril territory, Kryth, disregarding treaties, protocols, and agreements agreed upon by our ancestors in their wisdom after the Gashnee War.”

  “Perhaps their wisdom was short-sighted.”

  “A Vartis survived Oxgris,�
� pronounced Issara with quiet triumph. He straightened and stood with his hands clasped in front of his body, hidden by the voluminous sleeves of his embroidered robe. He thought himself clever, Lintorth thought.

  “You were at Oxgris ten cycles ago, Lintorth Sar,” Issara pronounced, his eyes glaring – as best he could – at Lintorth. “Do you deny it?”

  Lintorth said nothing.

  “You set your Kryth assassins on Vrae recruits from the Alcara Fortress.” Issara’s tone began to rise. “They were conducting a training expedition in a territory claimed by the Vrae Javril Empire and you attacked them without provocation. Do you know what you’ve done?!”

  The Dark Shard, Lintorth Sar’s personal starship, outclassed the Vrae vessel by several factors. The weapons and defensive capabilities were among the best the Domain had to offer. If Issara attacked the vessel in a fit of rage…

  Lintorth smiled. “Yes, I was on Oxgris, thief.” Lintorth bit off each word with malice. “I was there with my Korin Shai and, yes, I met the Vrae striplings on the barren wasteland they so chose for battle.”

  “They weren’t there for battle, Kryth. They were cadets, not even assigned to their first martial posting. They were children.”

  “They carried weapons did they not?”

  “They weren’t even of citizen’s age.”

  “They were not your citizen’s age. Yet they carried weapons with live munitions and were shepherded by veteran Vartis Guards,” Lintorth replied. “If they could wield weapons, they were old enough to suffer the consequences.”

  “Even death?” Issara said in a hoarse whisper.

  “Even death,” Lintorth agreed. “One does not stand before me and threaten without consequence.” Lintorth unsheathed a kesslar blade from beneath his cloak and held it before his scarred face. He turned the blade. It glinted as his eyes searched the etched metal for a quiet moment before he continued. “I have sent many a soul to the blue flames of Adar the Quiet. Many enemies…and a few friends.”

  “You have many more enemies than friends, Kryth,” Issara countered. “You’ve risked making many more after Oxgris.”

  “That does not concern me. It is of little import, Vrae.”

  “Is that so?” Issara composed himself. “The young Vrae that you massacred on Oxgris were not conscripted troops. These were the scions…of the Empress herself.”

  A slight frown furrowed Lintorth’s forehead. “What a convenient coincidence that is, Issara.”

  “It is no coincidence, Lintorth Sar,” continued the Vrae. “You and the rest of your Kryth scum murdered the offspring of some of the most powerful Vrae Javril in the Empire.” Laughing, the hologram of Issara turned his back on Lintorth and walked a few paces away before turning around to face him again. He looked thoughtful and took a few moments before he spoke again.

  “I have the knowledge of what you’ve done, and I know what you’re capable of, Kryth. You have the ruthlessness of a javassa and the might of an armada at your call. Even now, you consider destroying my ship.”

  Lintorth clenched his jaw.

  “I dispatched Caxios with evidence from Oxgris that will damn you, Kryth,” Issara gloated at his cleverness. “He will meet with the Vrae Javril Empress if I don’t send a communique after this meet. I presume you want something from me, else you wouldn’t have summoned me in my grief.”

  “It galls me to say this, Issara, but I have…need of your skills and resources.”

  “You murder my first offspring, Kryth, and show no remorse,” the Vrae spat at Lintorth. “I have no desire to aid you in any way, Kryth. I’ve come to tell you that you have made a personal enemy of the Vrae Javril royal family. You will be humbled by your own destruction.”

  “I believe I mentioned how I deal with threats,” Lintorth spoke with steel in his voice. “I am a warrior of the Kryth Mahr Domain and serve Her will!” Slamming his fist against the wall, Lintorth leaned forward. “I care not that dozens of Vrae Lordlets lie dead on Oxgris, the marrow of their bones sucked out by scavengers and their flesh stripped from their bones after we were done teaching them what happens when you threaten the Kryth. I will destroy anyone who stands in my path,” he growled, his face centimeters from the hologram’s.

  “Even the Humans who plague you so?”

  Swinging his fist through the hologram to no effect, Lintorth roared in rage and imagined Issara’s throat being crushed in his hands as he begged for his life.

  He paced along the ship’s bridge, breathing hard, trying to calm himself again. Those cursed Humans. He hated them with a passion. They were dangerous and had thwarted the Domain time and time again. They stung and disappeared, destroyed and vanished.

  “Especially the Humans,” he promised with hatred in his eyes. “I require your Gashnee technologies and knowledge to do so, Vrae, and I will have them.”

  “I will not help you, Kryth! I’d rather watch you and your people suffer just as my firstborn!” Issara shouted. The Vrae stood in defiance, glaring at Lintorth. “I will not bargain with you.”

  “Oh, I think that you will,” Lintorth said with an evil smile.

  Isaara blinked. “You have nothing I want or need, Kryth. What makes you think I’d bargain now?”

  “That so?” Instructing a crewmember, Lintorth sat back down in his chair. The hologram followed, then stood next to him. “Show him.”

  A viewscreen winked on.

  A dim room with bare metal walls and just enough light to see a body, shackled at the wrists, that hung from the ceiling. The occupant, feet dangling above the floor, was motionless. A bright light came on. The prisoner did not move. All the weight hung on the manacled wrists, crusted blood visible along the length of both arms. The manacles had dug to the bone and had been tightened. The pale, purple skin visible under the rents in the once-fine armor showed shallow gashes dried with blood. The Pelanthus firestones were missing and the filigreed scrollwork was damaged, dirty, and covered in a fine reddish-brown dust, but Issara’s jaw dropped and Lintorth grinned up at him.

  A Korin Shai slapped the Vrae’s drooping head a few times, eliciting a groan and rattling of the chains as he tried to shift his body away from the blows. Grabbing the Vrae’s throat, the Korin Shai pushed the head up so the bruised face was visible.

  “I think you will negotiate for the Heir of Dal Karsis, Issara,” Lintorth said, delighting in the shocked look on Issara’s face. “You have everything to lose…again.”

  Data Cell 16

  My brain was going to explode.

  That’s how I was feeling right about now as I found myself slumped on the floor of some strange cage.

  What the hell was in those squid things?

  I rolled up on my knees, rubbing my blurred eyes, trying to see where I was.

  It was all just a blurred mess.

  I could make out the image of the pudgy Cuukzen still knocked out from the toxin, along with Kayasa.

  Blink was also not active, just lying on the floor next to the Vrae female.

  I kicked Mistuuk. “Hey, get up.”

  I never do get tired of doing that.

  Moans issued from the little guy.

  “I know how how you feel, buddy.”

  The bars of our small enclosure were becoming clearer.

  I thought I saw something move next to us.

  I moved up close to the bars to peer between them at a brown furry blob with yellow eyes staring back at me.

  “Graa-naa-naa-naa,” came the sound from the small animal in the cage next to us.

  It looked like some type of deranged monkey.

  There were more cages.

  I could see we were in a row of them now, ten or so on each side of us; and the smell, the smell was coming to me now.

  Wonderful.

  We’re in a zoo.

  Mistuuk started to stir. “Where are we, Rels?”

  Holding onto the bars, trying to look beyond the stone overhang we were under, I replied, “I’m not sure yet. I know we’re
in a cage and there are others in the same predicament. I can tell you one thing, though.”

  “What’s that, Rels?”

  “We’re not in Cuukzenland anymore.”

  “Graa-naa-naa.”

  “What’s that noise, Rels?”

  “It’s like a tamerak. Some monkey thing next to us.”

  “Oooh. I like tameraks.”

  “Have at it. Go talk to him. Maybe we can find out where we’re at.”

  This is not a good situation we found ourselves in; then again, when has it been.

  It looked as though things were starting to liven up as the sun descended behind the thick forest canopy I could see in the distance now.

  Across from the row of cages and the overhang of stone above us, it looked like we were in some type of ancient city.

  The ground outside was dirt.

  Beyond that was another arched stone overhang.

  It looked like a market.

  These stone structures weren’t old ruins like the temple we escaped on Enil-lok. These stone edifices were new and kept up.

  Similar in texture of those bush-creatures we encountered.

  I’m sure they didn’t build it, but I was about to find out who might have.

  I could hear rustling and movement in the distance.

  It seemed the evening nightlife was about to come out.

  Loud voices echoed through the stone passageways and structures beyond my sight.

  A horn sounded as the markets across from us opened.

  Vender stations with varying goods and wares parted open with their sellers awaiting customers.

  There were even more strange animals in pens all around them.

  The different beings behind the stands were odd except for their bipedal posture. Otherwise, they were much different from anything else I’d ever seen. Then again, we were on the other side of the galaxy, so maybe we were the odd ones here.

  Heavy footfalls came from beyond the columns of the overhang.

  A being of great height, at least nine feet tall, lumbered down the dirt roadway, passing by our cell.