Destiny Reckoning

by Trevor Gregg

  “Okay, fine. DARYL! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!?” Geri bellowed, head swiveling.

  “There is no need to shout,” the evgalian soothed.

  Kyren knew Geri had heard as she snapped straight.

  “I have asked and there is no Daryl in this establishment,” it replied after a brief moment.

  “Okay,” Geri replied out loud, looking dejected.

  “Is there anything else, or would like to avail yourselves of my hospitality?” Gryar asked, motioning with his tentacles to the array of food, beverages, and a huge hookah resting on the table.

  “No, but I have another question. Do you have the coordinates for the Kilgore system?” Geri asked without hesitation.

  “Alas, I know not those coordinates. And I do not wish to know them, and you should not either,” Gryar replied seriously.

  “What do you mean?” Geri wondered.

  “The Kilgore system is the home of the Ararax assassins. They keep their planet’s location a secret. They have strange powers and are quite deadly. And they hunt down those who reveal their secret home.”

  “You’ve got nothing of use to me, we’re leaving,” Geri snarled at Gryar.

  “Well, you are certainly free to leave. And now that you are members, you may return at any time,” Gryar soothed.

  Geri strode away without another word, making for the door and bursting out into the bright afternoon sunshine. Kyren and Alis scrambled to follow. As he squinted and blinked, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the bright daylight, he heard Geri growl.

  “Daryl, you son of a bitch!” Geri hollered at the man standing across the street, leaning against a low wall ringing a small house.

  15

  The Lech

  He was a large man, humanoid, but definitely not human. His forehead bore a shallow ridge of bone and his cheeks were highly prominent, as was his chin. His angular features gave him a leering appearance. His large frame was adorned entirely in black garments, from his silk shirt and leather vest to his tight leather pants, to the black wide-brimmed hat adorning his head. Heavy gold chains draped around his neck and rings glistened on each finger.

  “Geri, it’s a pleasure! It’s been a long time,” Daryl called out, arms wide.

  “Is that him, mom?” Alis asked her mom, obviously knowing the answer, but unable to avoid acting the dunce, thanks to that damned smoke.

  How had Kyren and her mom kept it together so well? She had been, well, she still was, completely disoriented. She just hoped they didn’t have to fight, she knew she’d be useless.

  “Can I offer you a beverage?” he asked amiably as they approached.

  “No, you can offer a damned explanation, though,” Geri retorted, ears going flat.

  “Sorry for that little bit of misdirection,” he drawled apologetically. “I had to be sure your weren’t here to pick me up. Gotta keep away from those Consortium bounty squads, y’know.”

  “After that stunt, I’m tempted to turn your ass in anyway!” Geri shot back angrily.

  “Whoa kitty-lady, just relax, everything’s okay now,” he crooned.

  “It will be as soon as you give me what I’m looking for.”

  “Relax, let’s move into the shade and see what arrangement we can work out,” he said, eying Alis.

  She didn’t like the way he was leering at her, her hand went reflexively to her wrench. Creepily, that only seemed to intensify his leer.

  “Daryl, I’m here for one thing only. Can you get me the coordinates to Kilgore or not?” Geri demanded.

  “Well that’s a tall ask. Are you sure you don’t wanna go somewhere a little less… exotic?”

  Alis was trying to focus, trying to keep vigilant, but her mind began wandering, unbidden. As her eyes drifted over the garage’s contents, she noted a huge stack of arclytic converters. What would someone need with so many? And why were they all cut so crudely at the ends? In one corner were dozens of what appeared to be small boat motors, stacked up on racks. On the other side of the junk piles was a shiny convertible auto, pristine white.

  “Like my ride, do you sweet cheeks?” Daryl said to her.

  This time, she really didn’t like how he was leering at her, his tongue even flicked across his lips. Ew!

  Her mom apparently caught it to, because she grew visibly more furious.

  “Kilgore coordinates now, you scumbag! Keep your damn skeezy eyes off my daughter,” Geri yelled, stepping toward Daryl menacingly, ears going aggressively flat.

  “Whoa there kitty-lady, can’t a man appreciate a young woman, beautiful and delicious as she is?” he replied as if he were the one being offended.

  Click. Alis turned as Kyren drew his pistol and disengaged the safety.

  “Hey, that’s not necessary, son,” Daryl said, putting his hands up appeasingly.

  “The coordinates,” Kyren demanded, leveling the gun at Daryl’s crotch.

  “Is this how you treat me, kitty-lady? Come into my home and point guns at me?” he said calmly.

  “Kyren, enough,” Geri commanded.

  It took several moments but he finally acquiesced, tucking the pistol back into his belt.

  “That’s better. Now about those coordinates. You sure you don’t want to go somewhere else?”

  “Positive,” Geri growled.

  “Okay then, but it’ll cost you. Providing the coordinates to the Kilgore system can earn the ire of the Ararax assassins, you know.”

  “Bullshit,” Geri called. “They’re a myth. Now how much for the coordinates?”

  Alis watched her mom grimace as he named his price.

  “Well, if that’s so unpalatable we could work out… alternate… arrangements,” he said, creepily leering at Alis again.

  This time he added a tiny pelvic thrust in her direction. But it was enough. Enough to set her mom off, and Geri the warrior took over. Daryl went flipping through the air, crashing into his stack of what Alis now realized must be stolen arclytic converters, cut from the underneath of many hovercars.

  He scrambled to his feet and cried incredulously “What was that for?”

  “You know,” was Geri’s clipped reply. “Cut that shit out, that’s my daughter.”

  “Okay, so you want to pay. It’ll cost you seventy-five k. Where’s the chipscan?”

  Geri produced her chipscan and handed it to Daryl, who swiped and grinned as the numbers changed. He extracted a datapad from a nearby shelf and queued up a star chart.

  “Alis, grab the coordinates,” her mom instructed.

  “Oh, yeah, let me get them,” she replied lazily, reaching for her wrench more casually than she intended.

  Transforming it into a data reader, she captured the star chart and coordinates, logging them into permanent memory.

  “Got it,” she replied proudly.

  “Good, let’s leave this bastard to rot,” Geri growled, heading for the street.

  Alis watched as Daryl extracted a tiny vial from his pocket and dug out a small pile of fluorescent green powder with a long, sharpened pinky nail. He licked the air as he snorted the powder up one nostril. Alis broke free of her paralysis and fled after her mom and Kyren, feeling eyes upon her the whole way.

  16

  Separation

  “So what’s the deal with these Ararax assassins that Daryl mentioned?” Kyren asked Geri as they walked back to the ship from town.

  “Well, they’re just a rumor. They’re supposed to be able to see with their minds, and therefore are not limited by distance in what they can perceive. This makes them deadly combatants and lethal assassins… apparently. I didn’t buy it. But after meeting Elarra, I think it is entirely possible they may possess some of those skills. As for Kilgore being their highly guarded home… I doubt it, seriously. Besides, how do they know who revealed the coordinates?”

  “Sounds plausible, Geri. But what if they do exist? What if that is where Joraq is hiding?”

  “We’ll just have to deal with that if the possibility comes to be,” sh
e replied, falling silent.

  “That Daryl was a real skeez, mom,” Alis remarked with a shudder.

  “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry honey. He’s a real scuzzbag, that one,” Geri replied apologetically. “Thanks for not killing him, Kyren.”

  “Yeah, that was tough, the canadol smoke thankfully had me dulled, or I may not have hesitated. Perhaps I wouldn’t have been riled by him had I not been so out of sorts, though,” he admitted.

  “Either way, we’ve got the starchart we needed. Let’s see if we can’t find this Joraq now.”

  They returned to the ship and lifted off, making for orbit and a rendezvous with Isa. It took several tries to raise Isa on the comm, but she finally responded, sounding like she was being interrupted. Alis uploaded the star chart to the Ashari and transferred it to Isa. The trip to Kilgore would be ten hours, with several jumps involved. They had a few hours before the next jump so they opted for some rest.

  Geri put the ship on autopilot and they all made their way to the crew quarters. Kyren still felt somewhat groggy after the experience with canadol, so he reclined and closed his eyes. Some unknown duration later, he awoke. Flipping on the lights and standing, he stretched and yawned, then headed for the door.

  He was making his way to the bridge when he heard quiet sobbing. As he entered the bridge he saw Alis sitting at a console, a blank screen active in front of her.

  “Alis, what’s wrong?” he asked, concern filling him.

  “It’s… it’s the data core… I watched it,” she replied tearfully.

  “What’d it say? And why’d you watch it?”

  “Well,” she sniffed. “I just couldn’t resist, I kept thinking about it and decided that if I watched it, I would have known. So it would be okay, right?”

  “Um, I guess,” he replied hesitantly.

  “Yeah, well, I guess I knew, because…” she began but paused, turning to the console and tapping play.

  Future-past video Alis flickered to life on the holoscreen.

  “Oh honey, you couldn’t resist, could you? Well, you’re not going to like what I have to say, but it’s imperative that you follow my instructions exactly,” video Alis began.

  Alis hit pause and spoke, “See, I knew I would.”

  “Okay but what’s so disturbing, anyway?”

  She hit play again, and video Alis continued, “You are going to send mom away. Don’t worry, you’ll see her again, I promise. But it is imperative that you send her to these coordinates, and now.”

  Coordinates flashed across the screen and a starchart icon appeared.

  “So, send mom to those coordinates in the Ashari and have her wait for the signal. Tell her to keep her sensors on and she’ll know the signal when she sees it,” video Alis finished.

  “Well, I hate to say it but they’ve, er, we’ve been right so far. I think Geri should go to those coordinates,” he admitted.

  “I know, I know. It’s just… I’m going to miss her, and I don’t know if we can do it without her,” she began to sob lightly, tears leaking from her eyes.

  Kyren reached out and gathered her into his arms before he even knew what he was doing. He held her to his chest, and he felt her tension leave her body. They stood there for several moments before she drew back.

  “Well, I guess we better tell her,” Alis conceded.

  “I’ll go get her,” he suggested.

  He returned with Geri a short time later.

  “Mom, sorry, but you’ve got to see this,” Alis instructed.

  Geri watched the video and then turned to her daughter and spoke, “So you think I need to do this thing? You trust the video, do you?”

  “Yeah, I hate to say it but I think we have to do what I suggest,” she replied, sniffling.

  “Oh honey, this is so hard. I’m going to miss you and worry about you,” Geri admitted.

  “Well, we better get transferred to Isa so you can take the ship, Geri,” Kyren proposed.

  “Be well and safe, Geri,” Elarra offered her hand.

  Geri ignored her.

  “Oh Geri, you’ll be missed,” Benjam squeaked sadly, tentacles coming to rest on her shoulder. “I look forward to our reunion.”

  They docked with Isa and transferred their belongings. Alis said a tearful goodbye to her mom and then returned to Isa. Alis cried again when the Ashari warped away. Kyren comforted her as best he could, but he could understand her pain. Hell, he missed Geri too, already.

  “Alis, it’s okay. Your video said you’d see her again, right?” Isa soothed. “Separation is painful, but you just have to trust it’ll be okay.”

  “Yeah, look what you were able to do, er, will do. I’m still here. You and Benjam performed a miracle somehow. You reunited me with my love. I’m sure video you is right, you’ll see her again,” Tharox interjected, his sonorous voice rumbling over the interior speakers.

  “Final jump coming up,” Isa warned.

  They made their final jump to the Kilgore system and entered orbit around the planet Rendikar.

  “Detecting weapons lock,” Isa warned. “But no weapons have fired. I think they are sending a message. I’m trying to raise traffic control on the comms but no response. I don’t think they get many visitors, here.”

  “Do you see any signs of civilization?” Kyren asked.

  “Yes, there seems to be a city on the coast up ahead,” she replied, zooming the viewscreen in to show a shabby, sprawling city composed of mud brick buildings and tin roof shacks.

  Isa flew low over the city, making toward a clearing at the edge of town. She touched down as Kyren loaded up his weapons and gear. They exited the Radiant Star, striding down the ramp. Kyren led the way, vigilant for any signs of trouble.

  “There, that path through the scrub oaks leads toward the city,” Kyren pointed out.

  He was making his way for the trail when figures began to step from the brush. Cloaked in heavy green cloaks, faces hidden by what appeared to be gas-masks with round eye holes and a tube running from the chin beneath the cloak. The figures began to extract grenades, pulling the pins and tossing them into the clearing before darting back into the thicket.

  Kyren unslung his rifle and tried to get a bead on one of the attackers, but they darted out of sight too fast. Then a billowing cloud of smoke from a grenade that landed at his feet hit him and he immediately felt his body go limp. Dropping his rifle, he staggered a few steps and then fell. His body was not responding, all he could do was lie there, paralyzed. He heard the others hitting the ground too.

  Well, all except Benjam, who screeched, “I surrender! Don’t shoot.”

  Booted feet stomped around Kyren as hands relieved him of his weapons and a black cloth sack was unceremoniously shoved over his head. He was lifted from the ground and slung over one of the mysterious attacker’s shoulders. The being reeked of sour sweat and vehicle fuel, burning his eyes and eliciting a gag.

  They were carried down the trail to some waiting vehicles. Kyren caught another glimpse of their attackers through the fabric. They were still obscured by the gas masks and heavy cloaks, and seemed to need not to speak, working in a coordinated and efficient fashion. They didn’t walk, they stalked. These beings were competent killers, he could tell.

  The vehicle ride lasted minutes, and they were then hauled indoors. Kyren began to feel control returning to his muscles as he was being carried along. He tried to resist, to fight back, but all he could muster was a weak wiggle.

  “Uta chaka greedo,” the creature carrying him spoke, and dumped him into a chair.

  Kyren’s head lolled for a moment, but then he was able to raise it. A small victory but a victory none the less. The bag was ripped from his head and he rapidly looked around, attempting to catalog his surroundings and locate an advantage.

  There was none, they were terminally outnumbered, the room was filled with the same figures who had captured them. Only now, their masks were off, and he could see their faces. They were varied in features, in stature
, in nearly every way. But they were familiar to him. He knew what they were. Raxi.

  17

  Arkanon and Arshara

  Benjam was terrified. There were so many of them, he was at their mercy. Even though he could regenerate, that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt. And he didn’t like to hurt. And he could tell, these creatures were good at hurting, he could tell from the way they moved, the way they glared.

  In fact, he could tell who they were, or at least what they were related to. These creatures were somehow related to the liadi’s raxi. They bore individualized features, though, instead of the uniform identical features like the liadi’s raxi. Those raxi were genetically engineered clones. These must be the progenitor species.

  The crowd of raxi parted and a figure strode toward them. A male figure, blue skinned and bald, his head ending in two long thick tendrils draping down his back, was clad in battle armor, a great sword hilt jutting over his shoulder. The man stepped forward, drawing the sword and letting the tip rest on the floor.

  “Well, what do we have ‘ere,” the blue-skinned being crooned. “Oh, wait, where are me manners? I’m Master Arkanon, and this is my world. Welcome… whoever you are… who are you, anyway? And why have you come here?”

  “I’m Benjam!” he squeaked. “We’re here to meet Joraq.”

  Kyren looked over at Benjam and glared. Why was Kyren mad? Did he say the wrong thing?

  Kyren struggled to speak, “I’m Kyren and our business is our own, sir. What do you want with us?”

  “You’re quite demanding for a guest, boy,” Arkanon said, pointing the tip of his sword at Kyren. “But I suppose you have every right to be, given the greeting I’ve offered.”

  Benjam quailed as the sword wavered before Kyren. Oh dear, don’t hurt him please, Benjam thought frantically, looking for a way to defend Kyren.

  “Some greeting indeed,” Arkanon continued. “So I guess you have every right to be suspicious of me. But I must be cautious, for I have enemies everywhere. So you see, I need to know your intentions, and I need to ensure my safety. Thus I have disarmed you and brought you here to speak. So I suggest you speak.”