by Reiter
Dungias could still see their ishah, their crying mother, wanting to attack him until Nugar had made her look upon Saru. From that moment on, nothing was said about Dungias’ presence at a Vinthur ceremony. He had been asked to remain and even sing the three souls to their next trek. When the fires for Saru and Laejem had died, the seeds of the Crystal Lily were all that remained where the bodies had burned. It was a rather uncommon but not completely unheard of MajiK; Nugar’s opadiah took the seeds, gave her thanks to the spirits, her children, and then she gave all seven of the seeds to Dungias.
He gazed upon the plant that had grown from the very last seed and smiled. He sat on the floor and cleared his mind. He could feel the breeze that had been part of Saru’s design. The Star Chaser could hear her song, attaining the Stars was a simple task after that. The room fell quiet and dark before another light illuminated the arboretum and warmed the Traveler. Already he could feel her.
“Why do they have meaning?” Cihpares asked, circling around a smiling Dungias.
“Stars are born,” he started, opening his eyes to see himself floating in a field of flying, glowing bodies. “They burn, and they die. There is nothing in the cosmos without meaning. Nothing without purpose.”
“And what was the purpose of Saru and Laejem?” Elbon inquired as he flew over Dungias’ head.
“I have no delusions about my part in their lives, or theirs in mine. That, however, does not change their purpose. They served the cosmos as living entities; mortals, clad in Vinthur flesh and culture, possessive of thought, self-will, and love!” Dungias reflected as he spoke, nodding to himself. “Everything should be allowed to do that… to be that.”
“Mind that you include Dungias within that consideration,” Cihpares added. “It was your denial of self that created the troubles you are now resolving. While you return to the pinnacle you once held, your troubles are only beginning to gather.” Cihpares stopped in front of Dungias and stared intently into his eyes. She was not smiling and she looked so much like the woman he would always love. “Do you wish to see?”
“All that you can show me.”
“And if there is pain with that revelation?”
“It is not a question of if. This must be done and it is greater than my wishes.”
“Very good, Star Chaser,” she stated as she approached. “Can you see the Deku System?”
“These are not the same Stars under which I was born,” Dungias replied.
“Indeed! So this cannot be the same Chorus,” Cihpares said as she waved her hand over the other forms. Slowly, most of their faces changed away from the Malgovi and Vinthur faces he had come to know. “Elbon and I remain with you because we revolve around your star. Sylundaree is permitted here because of the Founders… but you must come to know what has been done in your name.”
“When you came to the Rims,” Elbon started, coming to a stop just off of Dungias’ left shoulder. “Cihpares and I went to meet with this Chorus to commune with them. They were sleeping, Star Chaser, we could not wake them, and we were sent from their place of slumber.
Most recently that has changed, but we are not able to see how or why. A small Chorus has awakened, but they do not move to rouse their siblings. Instead they seek to solve a riddle, the one you created when you asked Isse to keep the knowledge of you from her father. In making the Guardian of the Rims blind to you, their eyes are also denied sight of you. The act has not been well-received, and the Chorus resents the notion of an unknown entity. Like the forms they mimic, their reaction has been one born out of fear!”
“Why?” Dungias asked.
“You think yourself finished with the mysteries of life, Traveler?” Cihpares asked. “Now that you have become the Star Chaser, all tasks are done?! It is you who has taken on this quest; our reason for choosing you is not addressed with your success or failure! You have only begun your trek, Traveler. Still, as Fate would have it, your actions have placed you within a warm and safe place in her bosom.”
“There is no way that will be allowed to continue,” Dungias noted. “There would be no balance in that.”
“Well said, Star Chaser,” Elbon replied. “Your inner conflict has taken much of the time Fate has given to you, but perhaps that was the reason why it was given.”
“Whatever the reason,” Cihpares added, “that is not why we came to speak to you now. It is a trek, Traveler, one which has recently been revealed to us. It is a trek that all Travelers crave: one that has never been traversed! Whether you succeed or fail at your quest, this trek awaits you. All you need do is listen for the call of the key. Without the key, you will never find the item which will take you beyond the Outer Rim!”
“I came from beyond the Outer Rim,” Dungias returned.
“Only to your born perspective is that true,” Cihpares whispered, taking hold of his face.
“The names of your enemies have not changed, Traveler,” Elbon warned. “Just their count! Prepare yourself to fight on more fronts than you can fathom, for once you come to know their mark and measure, only half of your quest will be complete!”
“And, as far as the Chorus, I am to resume my Star Quest without their assistance,” Dungias stated. “As it would seem the Stars stand against me.”
“Not all of them, Star Chaser,” Elbon stated. “There is one who does not look upon your arrival through the veil of fear. She is Eesa, and your quest treks along her fate. Without knowing you, she is waiting for you… she needs you as you need her!”
“Then please alert this Eesa of my approach,” Dungias decided.
“I will take your words forward,” Elbon declared. “Stand fast and true, Traveler!” Elbon smiled and nodded as he started to drift away.
“While he sees to your campaign, I will see to you!” Cihpares vowed.
“That does not sound like–”
“Name the star which can outshine love, and I will consider your argument,” she interrupted as she began to fade. “Remember, Dungias… no holding back!”
Dungias gasped for air as he fell back to the cold floor of the arboretum. With the light of discovery shining into his mind, the Malgovi Traveler could only find more questions. He laughed at the simple truth of it all: he still did not know what he was doing! He closed his eyes for only a moment and rolled over to push up from the floor.
“Satithe,” Dungias called out in an authoritative tone, “confirm safety protocols and then initiate recorded data transfer. Once that is down, begin the sequence to awaken Persephone. Also, power down the stasis field holding Nulaki, please.”
Her blue eyes opened slowly and came to focus on a pair of gold eyes that smiled down on her. Persephone smiled in response as her brow furrowed. The regenerator opened and the platform she had been laid upon started to lift her up to the opening. Her hands were quick to take hold of the frame and Dungias as she lifted herself out of the machine.
“God, Z, you know how much I hate that thing!” she stated, rubbing herself down and trying to shake loose the non-existent cooties that had a hold of her. “Yes, I was in all kinds of pain and yes, I want this thing to work. But after I’m done cooking, put me on a plate, please! Don’t let me wake up in the oven, man!”
“As you wish, Captain,” Dungias said as he handed Persephone her robe. “We are aboard the Xara-Mansura and currently positioned on the dark side of the moon Nibken, the only dead moon in the system.”
“Good! Do we have that thief all trussed up and ready for delivery?” Persephone asked as she walked out of the room.
“About that, Captain,” Dungias said, following behind her. “I was hoping to have a discussion with you before sending him off to Mathari.”
“Do I slap you now, or shoot you later?” she asked as she walked.
“If I must choose solely from those two…”
“Oh, yes, do get cute, Z!” Persephone warned. “Now’s definitely the time for you to get cute on me.” She stopped and turned to enter the weapons storage room. Dungias foll
owed her and deliberately stopped once inside, allowing the door to the room to slide closed. He stepped to his right, toward the wall and waited.
“You were saying,” she said as she approached the station Z used to work on weapons and armour. As she expected, the items she had worn and used were already on the worktable. Her blaster had been loaded with another energy clip and the former one was in the charger and nearly at maximum capacity. It only took an hour to recharge the clips in her engineer’s machine. Persephone was able to estimate how long she had been unconscious. Given the pain she could recall, it seemed beyond imagination that she would be up and about so soon.
“We have the vid-files Satithe copied from the city grid,” Dungias spoke as Persephone put her hand to the long coat. “With very little creative effort put toward editing, we could tell Mathari that Nulaki was taken by the security team which accompanied a Temple Chevalier.”
Persephone looked at the cross cut in the back of the long coat. It looked as if they had been done with a scalpel. “Those two knew what they were doing,” she thought. “There’s absolutely no tearing! Either they struck at the exact same time or one of them is good and the other one’s gonna keep me up tonight.
“It sounds as if you’ve taken a liking to this man, Z,” Persephone stated. “Is there something I should know before going forward?”
“Just that I promised my Captain something vital to the well-being of her station and her ship,” Dungias explained. “Nulaki is indeed a thief, but he has demonstrated a system of honor and discipline. Those could be put to good use on our behalf.”
“In other words…”
“In other words, Captain,” Dungias quickly replied, his voice dropping in tone and volume – as if he were sharing a secret. “… a thief, wanted by the Empire and the IA, that is still alive and active. To settle a debt he has with you… he becomes a member of your crew.”
Persephone looked at him for only a moment. “At some point you’re going to start wearing an eye-patch, right?” she asked, turning to look at the bodysuit. It too had been cut through, and her body shuddered. “How much got through?”
“Approximately six millimeters,” Dungias answered. “Nowhere near enough to reach the spine.”
“Z, my skin got slashed by En-Swords, I’d say that skin was close enough to bone, wouldn’t you?”
“Actually, the correct term for them is energized swords; actual steel forged to conduct pure energy along the blade. You felt pain all over your body because of the field your shoulder holster created. The force and power behind the attack was made to disperse wide over your body instead of remaining focused and set for… as you said, bone.
“I must apologize, Captain.”
“Z, shut up,” Persephone said as she turned for the door. “The only reason why I’m alive is because you made me wear that stuff.” Dungias put his arm up to bar her path.
“No!” he said defiantly. “My Captain is alive because she stood down a Temple Chevalier! If she had not possessed the second gun, she would have used something else! Grenade, throwing knife, spittle if necessary! But she would have been victorious. And that I will not keep to myself!”
Persephone looked up at Dungias and gently touched his face as she smiled. “Do you know how utterly adorable it is that you insist on properly pronouncing ‘spit’?” She looked at his arm and Dungias sighed as he removed it. “Thank you,” she said before slapping Dungias hard across the face. “Better than shooting you later, I have to agree.
“By the way, you sold me on the thief pitch. Bring him to the Bridge when he’s up and ready, please.” She stopped the moment she stepped out into the corridor. “And thanks again, Z!”
“Always, my Captain.”
Dungias sighed as he stepped into the room that he had set up to be a temporary infirmary for Nulaki. He was not feeling too good about what he had hoped would be a very beneficial idea to Jocasta’s aims. While Mathari was not going to make it a point to turn Jocasta into a living example, their plan had already been a costly one and the Captain was beside herself with aggravation.
As the lights came up in the room, Dungias was not surprised to see the bed empty. He was relieved that his awareness seemed to be returning. His back bend was faster than when he had been a student of Nugar’s, and Dungias was decidedly more flexible now. Nulaki passed over Dungias’ chest, his powerful, sweeping uppercut just missing its mark. Nulaki landed on his extended left arm and flipped over quickly to his feet.
“I’ll say this for you and your people, you’ve got moves!”
“Perhaps that is one reason why the Captain wants to talk to you about joining her crew,” Dungias answered.
“Her crew?!” Nulaki asked. “You mean, she’s in charge?”
“Without a doubt, Mr. Conadier,” Dungias replied. “At this time, Fidriss Mathari is under the impression you have been arrested by a Temple Chevalier. Given the unrecorded events of the mezzanine after you were restrained, he had little choice other than to accept what he was told.”
“Temple Chevalier?!” Nulaki exclaimed. “I thought something felt familiar about the loud noise. It was Sylgarr, wasn’t it? Of course it was. He’s the only one stupid enough to haul his Imperial Ass into the Ziere System. Falco Sylgarr.” Nulaki looked around as something dawned on him. “I’m not in restraints!”
“I am happy for you,” Dungias replied.
“This isn’t his ship!”
“I would think not,” Dungias replied. “This is the Xara-Mansura.”
“Bless you,” Nulaki quipped, putting his hands on his hips. “So, whose ship is this?”
“It is the property of Captain JoJo Starblazer.”
“Whoa, what a name. Please be sure to give her my condolences,” Nulaki said as he started for the door. Dungias took the one step to his left that he needed in order to block him from leaving.
“You are in the Captain’s debt,” Dungias declared.
“Hey!” Nulaki snapped, sticking his finger into Dungias’ face. “I never asked for her help!”
“You were unconscious, Mr. Conadier!” Dungias asserted. “My Captain defended your helpless body from a Temple Chevalier and his security team.”
“Hit me in the head with what?!” Nulaki choked as he shook his head. “Pretty britches took care of Sylgarr?! What race are you? I think I’ve just found the most gullible bastards in the Rims!”
“Satithe,” Dungias called out and a holographic image of the encounter was played before Nulaki’s eyes. He winced and rubbed his chin when he saw the hook land on his face.
“You should know that was a lucky shot,” Nulaki explained.
“How fortunate then that the Captain seems to be on a lifelong streak,” Dungias replied as he started for the door. “Green lights will direct you to the Bridge where you will find the Captain,” he instructed before his shoulder was grabbed. Dungias turned around, hopping over the spinning foot sweep, ducking the spinning kick, and catching the wild hook meant for his face. “If anyone is on a streak of bad luck, it is me,” he spoke softly as he started to squeeze Nulaki’s hand. “You see, the Captain would like words with you, which means killing you is not one of my options. But as she is not deaf, and I sincerely doubt you know Sign Language, you will not be needing both hands to talk to her.
“Let me guess,” Dungias said as Nulaki slowly lowered to his knees, wincing in pain. “You cannot dislodge joints when they are already in a hyper-flexed position!”
“Not unless they’re already dislodged, friend,” Nulaki said, dropping his face of anguish. He fell to his back and thrust both of his feet into Dungias’ chest. Nulaki shot across the floor into the nearby wall where his face and chest were among the first body parts to be stopped cold.
“How interesting,” Dungias said as he slowly walked over to the moaning form. “And the name isn’t friend. I am called Z. Kindly collect yourself and report to the Bridge under your own power before I am forced to assist you.” Nulaki held up
his right hand and gave a thumbs-up sign. He moaned as Dungias turned and walked away.
Nulaki pulled himself up to his hands and knees, taking a moment to look around the room once more. He shook his head to clear the stunning fog he had unintentionally placed upon himself. He started to calculate just how heavy or strong the blue-skinned man had to be to not budge from his drop kick, but quickly dismissed it as something he was better off not knowing. “Oh yeah! These people have got moves!”
“You sound as if you have been well acquainted with my First Mate,” Persephone said as she rocked in her chair.
“And nobody here smells like a Gwarthine factory,” Nulaki replied, wishing he had something akin to the agent which was typically applied to sore muscles and aching joints.
Persephone smiled and nodded. “We use fix-meds too,” she stated. “Doesn’t your shoulder still sting a bit?” Nulaki grabbed his left shoulder and looked like he was about to faint. “Don’t worry. Z knew that Gwarthine can be toxic to some strains of Fazerian blood, so he cooked something special up for you.”
“Awfully nice of him,” Nulaki said. “I’ll have to thank him down the line.” Nulaki took a few strides, his thoughts stirred on how best to proceed. He was pleasantly surprised when the woman gave him enough time to gather himself. “You know, that’s always been my problem.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Fight or flight,” Nulaki explained. “It’s always been a trouble of mine knowing which one to choose. I spent so much time trying to make you look bad that I forgot I knew how to really make you look bad.”
“I’m pretty sure that speech made sense to you,” Persephone replied. “At least I hope it did.”
“I put everything into being the artful dodger!” Nulaki explained. “I never stood my ground and stapled you to the pavement.”