by C A Ardron
‘Yeah?’
Dove could feel his anger rising again and when she looked at him she saw a grin expression upon his face.
‘Leave me behind, Fly fast and keep a sharp eye. We have to stop the Sarpiens before this goes any further.’
Not bothering to reply, he flapped his wings and lifted off. Dove watched him fly away, his ascent into the lilac sky creating waves of turbulent air, blowing strands of her hair about wildly.
The bronze Avian was lost to sight quickly as he scooted through the sky, his speed far greater now that she wasn't holding him back. Dove had often thought that Hawk was wasted in the Predgarians. She knew he enjoyed combat and lived for the excitement that it brought with it. He'd grown up as a civilian, not like her, Tiger and Lion, who had been born into it. Dove had no idea what kind of life he must have lived to know so much about martial arts. Whatever the reasons, he'd proven he was good enough to be a Predgarian and she was glad he was with them. With the Dakkonin mysteriously missing, his skill in battle would be needed today, she was certain of that.
She unfolded her wings and took flight without hesitation. She had to find those children or the Sarpiens, or even the Dakkonin. Dove didn't mind in what order that happened, as long as she found someone.
***
There was the quiet murmuring of whispered talk somewhere across the hall. Wolf heard it, but chose to ignore it. The heavy-set man remained kneeling before the golden altar to the Light in the main chamber of the Predgarian Temple, praying.
He mused at how he could pray for patience, then instantly become impatient because the patience was not granted to him immediately.
His eyes still closed, he smiled and chided his own thoughts. The Light helps those who help themselves, he reminded himself.
He heard quiet footfalls approach him and halt. Wolf still remained stationary. He'd already handed the report to the area commander, and got an earful of abuse. He'd only remained to pray and bask in the Light. Whoever was behind him had no business with him.
‘Warrior Grey Wolf?’
Wolf's eyes opened, he'd obviously been wrong about that. The voice was soft, polite but not one he recognised. His heavy grey armour creaked as he rose, and he gazed through the eye slits of his Canine helm.
He'd always favoured the heavy class of medallion armour, Quite content in the fact that it covered every inch of him, revealing nothing about him to strangers other than his size and voice.
The Predgarian was shorter than him, but then most people were. She looked very neat with her grey metallic bird mask and matching, light armour. The wings folded on her back were also grey, but a much lighter shade, almost white.
She was looking up at him expectantly.
‘Yes?’
‘A message has been left for you at the reception.’
‘Very well, thank you for telling me,’ he replied in his deep voice.
The Avian woman nodded and left, stepping swiftly across the hall, no doubt on some other errand. Wolf decided not to dwell on that and after giving one last lingering glance towards the altar, with its moulded sun taking up the centre, the four corners illuminated by glowing candles, he lifted his head upwards.
He gazed at the circular emblem above him on the back wall. The plain black circle it rested on he barely noticed. He clanged his armoured fist against his breastplate in a respectful salute to the picure of the golden griffin rearing on its hind legs. Its brilliant emerald wings outstretched, claws ready for battle.
‘Another day, but I still serve,’ he whispered, once more reaffirming the life he had chosen.
Turning away from the altar finally, he glanced across the hall at a group of civilians looking in awe at one of the giant stained-glass windows.
The mid-morning light was bursting through it, bringing the picture of the First Battle to life in a lavender blaze. His mood grew sombre as he strode towards the heavy bronze door which led deeper into the temple. If only that first victory against the Sarpiens could've ended the threat for good.
Wolf pushed the door open and stepped through, letting it swing shut behind him. Now in an area which was Predgarian access only, his hand reached down towards the thick grey coin hanging at his chest.
He glowed in a dull light, feeling his armour disintegrate. He glanced down at his simple grey trousers and navy sweater before walking to the reception desk a few feet away.
Running one hand over his dark, bald scalp, he caught the attention of the receptionist. ‘I'm the Grey Wolf, assigned to West Sector, I'm told you have something for me?’
The tall woman, her face severe and her straight brown hair caught in a tight bun, nodded and started to rummage through a pile of papers.
Wolf tapped his thick fingers on the reception desk impatiently. The dark Oldeiran glanced around, noting the passage leading up towards the gardens, dorms and the commander's office. Wolf didn't want to think about the commander, the man irritated him.
He turned his attention back to the high, circular station before him, its light-grain, polished surface smooth under his palm. The green-carpet underfoot gave the room a nice feel, welcoming.
Wolf half-turned to glance once more at the bronze door behind him. He'd much rather be out there praying, considering the will of the Light than here waiting for some garbled message about who knows what.
The receptionist found what she was looking for and turned back to him, standing straight. Despite her day-to-day tasks she was wearing her blue Feline medallion, reminding Wolf and anyone else that she might be an administrator, but she was still a warrior.
The woman glanced down at his grey medallion and unsmiling, handed him a scrap of paper.
Wolf squinted at the small handwriting. It seemed to be a list of bullet points. From Golden Lion. Elite Sarpiens on streets. No Dakkonin. Looking for boy. Need back-up. Where's the Dakkonin?
Wolf ran one large hand over his scalp, bewildered. ‘What?’
‘Seems straight-forward to me,’ the receptionist spoke in a dead voice. ‘I'd get on it if I were you.’
Wolf gave her a hard look and stepped away from the desk, staring down at the piece of paper in his hand once more. How was he supposed to know where the Dakkonin where?
He ignored that one for now and concentrated on the back-up that Lion said he wanted. He sighed heavily and headed up the passage to his right, to the area commander's office. This wasn't going to go down well, Wolf already knew that.
The long corridor had several doors down either side. Wolf stopped when he reached the last door, located in a small alcove.
He took a deep breath and rapped quickly on the white door. He entered immediately, not waiting for the commander to acknowledge the sound.
The grey Avian warrior looked up at him from his desk. Wolf was used to the scowl but was surprised to find another warrior in the room as well. She seemed familiar. Green Swallow. This couldn't possibly get any worse.
He remembered Fire Tiger telling him about Swallow. She was powerful, never smiled and was a harsh teacher. She was also the official councillor for the South Sector Predgarian unit. The exact same rank White Dove held in the West.
Swallow was in her green armour, her neat, paler wings nestled on her back.
‘Don't stand there gawking, Grey Wolf,’ the area commander barked, ‘I'm assuming you've a reason for interrupting my time with the esteemed Green Swallow?’
Wolf saluted, feeling a little under-dressed in his grey trousers and navy sweater. ‘Area Commander Martial Eagle, I've just received a message from my captain.’ He briefly looked over the paper in his hand again. ‘There are Elite Sarpiens above ground in West Sector and no Dakkonin. Golden Lion has requested reinforcements.’
The commander shook his head in disgust and picked up a thin, grey folder from his desk. ‘It's things like this, Grey Wolf, exact things like this.’
Wolf groaned in his head. That file was the one Lion had sent him to give to Martial Eagle that morning. He wasn't going
to give the same speech twice, was he?
‘This report is troubling, very troubling.’
Wolf sighed quietly. Yes, the commander was in fact, going to give the speech a second time.
He glanced at Swallow. She seemed a little annoyed at the interruption but other than that was not really showing any of her thoughts.
‘Lion's report is vague – purposefully vague in my opinion. Is your captain trying to avoid telling me something?’
Grey Wolf ran one hand over his scalp again as he listened to the commander's tirade. Martial Eagle hadn't used to be this bad, back when he was a fellow warrior in West Sector. Vain maybe, always checking his short, blond curls were in place and polishing his medallion, but not like this.
Wolf knew he hated Lion. The young captain had ruined his chance at leading the West Sector unit but what did he have to complain about, really? He'd managed to get himself promoted to area commander for Light's sake!
‘If Lion is incapable of stringing together two sentences then perhaps he should have mentioned it before he came to Steiron, and as for his tactics in keeping the city safe –’
Wolf was sick of this. ‘I didn't write the report, Sir.’ He tried to hide his dislike. ‘I am not aware of the details within it. However, if there is anything unclear to you, I will do my best to give you accurate answers, so that you have a general idea until a time when you can make contact with my captain.’
Martial Eagle's eyes narrowed, and Wolf tried to muster as much feigned innocence as he could. ‘Were there any questions you wished to ask, Sir?’
Wolf glanced over at Swallow. Her eyes were concealed by the metallic bird mask, but her expression was one of the faintest amusement.
Bringing his attention back to the commander, he found the Avian glaring angrily. ‘You're dismissed, Grey Wolf.’
‘What about West Sector?’ Wolf objected. ‘Six Predgarians can't defend it against the Red Jackal. The Dakkonin are missing.’
‘The Dakkonin are presently in East Sector,’ Martial Eagle waved it aside dismissively.
‘What are they doing there?’
‘There's been a raid,’ Swallow spoke, her voice quiet. ‘Jackal's Sarpiens have attacked the town in full force. The Dakkonin have been called in from all the different Sectors to respond to it.’
‘But Jackal's Elite are in West Sector. We need the Dakkonin back at their posts!’
‘I would not presume to tell the Dakkonin how to do their jobs.’ Martial Eagle's smile was icy.
‘Wolf couldn't help staring. Hadn't Eagle heard him? They couldn't just wait for the Dakkinin to come back! ‘But –’
‘Dismissed, Grey Wolf.’
Wolf left the office fuming, his fists clenched. He tried to control himself so he wouldn't punch the nearest wall. Martial Eagle wouldn't listen to reason, and in the meantime, there was no telling what was going to happen in West Sector.
He read through the crumpled message in his hands again. The message held no details, it just said there were Elite Sarpiens on the street. The raid in East certainly made this look less important, but Wolf trusted Lion. If Lion was concerned about this, then he needed to get help.
‘Hey, Wolf, why the sad face?’
Wolf looked up, seeking out the jovial voice. A large, armoured man was trotting towards him. He wore the common heavy, bulky armour of the Canine warrior.
Wolf grinned at his blue-armoured friend and strode towards him. ‘Dingo, are you off-duty?’
CHAPTER NINE
Blue Dingo did not immediately answer. Wolf watched as he removed his thick, Canine helmet with one hand, revealing his friend's ever-cheerful, sparkling, grey eyes. Wolf knew that his friend's fierce appearance made some people nervous. His short, black beard and straight hair, reaching just past his broad shoulders, could be off-putting and intimidating. All anyone had to do was spend a little time with the South Sector Predgarian to realise what a nice person he was.
‘Depends why you're asking,’ Dingo bantered with an impish grin.
‘There are Sarpiens aboveground in West Sector, we need help.’
‘Sarpiens? I thought they were all in East today.’
Wolf frowned at the young-looking man, though anyone who thought he was under thirty would be badly mistaken.
‘Has everyone heard about this raid apart from me?’ Wolf found his mood was definitely souring. ‘The majority of Jackal's Sarpiens might be in East Sector, but his Elite are still in West. Here, look at this.’
Wolf held up the scrap of paper to Dingo’s eye level instead of handing it to him since he was wearing gauntlets and wouldn't be able to grasp it very well.
‘Ouch, you've got problems.’ His eyes came alight in anticipation. ‘Bet you wouldn't mind a hopper with fully charged laser cannons at your disposal.’
Wolf had a moment of surprise. ‘Your hopper's here in Central?’
Dingo grinned and then bowed extravagantly. ‘For one afternoon only, Grey Wolf, the best pilot in Steiron is at your service.’
Wolf snorted, but didn't comment since Dingo's boast was far from hollow.
Dingo turned on his heel and strode down the corridor. Wolf started to follow him but hesitated as he saw Green Swallow leant against the wall, looking at him. Her stare made him nervous. There was a coldness he could feel, and he didn't like it much. He trotted to catch up with Dingo, grasping his medallion. He concentrated on the wolf medallion, and it flared up in its deep silvery-grey light. His boots gave a metallic thud on the carpet underfoot as they materialised around his feet. He could feel the rest of his formidable armour coalesce, and his sight became a bit more impaired as his helmet appeared around him. He caught up with Dingo, who looked at the taller man.
‘Haven't you brought this to the attention of the area commander?’ The blue warrior placed his helmet back on and gestured for Wolf to follow.
Wolf snorted as they walked out the corridor, past the reception and to a door at the far back of the room. ‘I tried, Martial Eagle wouldn't listen to me.’
‘Ah. The usual excuse of “I don't need to do anything because it's Golden Lion?”’
Wolf paused just after they'd stepped through the door and into another corridor, this one missing doors apart from one at the far end. ‘What makes you say that?’
Dingo shrugged his powerful shoulders. ‘Martial Eagle takes every chance he gets to mess Lion around, right?’
‘How did you know that? I've never mentioned it.’
Dingo chuckled. ‘Warriors trained in Predgariah excel in one particular field, my friend. We're all grade-A gossipers.’
Wolf shook his head in disgust. ‘Do not discuss the problems of friends in their absence, for such an act creates a circle, and you will find yourself bound to it,’ he quoted a passage from the Lumarium seriously.
Dingo shrugged. ‘Hey, what can I say? No one's perfect.’
Wolf sighed, Dingo always brushed aside the dictates of the Light, most of his team mates in West Sector did for that matter. None of them seemed to take it seriously, they were warriors of the Light, champions of a holy Order. Wolf found it odd that most Predgarians seemed to barely ever think about their God.
He put those thoughts to one side for now, knowing he had to concentrate on the task at hand. He followed Dingo through the last door and onto the hopper landing pad. It had been a while since he'd had opportunity to use one. The empire were generous in aiding their fight against the sclithe. Resources were tight, of course – Courin wasn't the only world with an infestation – but the emperor had given them many tools, hoppers and medallions amongst them.
Dingo proceeded to step up to the large aircraft, painted in the deep green of the Predgarian Order. Its wings were triangular and wide, the laser cannons nestled securely beneath.
Wolf held back a few seconds as Dingo put his palm on the ID recognition pad on the hopper's side. The vehicle came to life with a quiet hum, and the wide door on the side slowly rose as the metal walkway extended down
towards them.
Dingo gestured unnecessarily to his friend before disappearing inside. Wolf followed, glancing at the small seating area directly before him. Standard hoppers seated eight including the two navigator's seats at the front.
Wolf trotted down the wide walkway between the seats and joined Dingo. Wolf was licensed to drive the Predgarian Order's line of armoured cars, but they were nothing like these complicated controls.
He belted himself as Dingo started flicking switches, the hopper making more vibration as the main engine began to run. He noticed the light for the open doorway and lowered ramp had switched itself off, telling the pilots it was safe to leave, though Wolf hadn't heard anything behind him.
The hopper launched slowly in its vertical lift-off.
‘So,’ Dingo examined the digital screen in front of him. ‘Where are we headed?’
‘I'm not sure,’ Wolf admitted. ‘I don't know what may have developed by the time we get there. I think the best we can do is pick a landmark and radio Lion.’
‘Sounds like a plan. Better give me a landmark then, before someone tells me I'm busy again.’
‘You said you were off duty.’
‘I am.’
Wolf turned his head to look at him, allowing the silence to drag out.
‘I really am,’ his friend insisted.
‘Then why did you say that?’
Dingo sighed through the slits in his helmet. ‘Gecko wanted to practice with me this afternoon, that's all.’
‘Gecko?’
‘Yeah, Green Gecko – he's my partner. He's only been a Predgarian for about a year. The elders gave him his medallion early because he's what you might call overly talented. He's a bit of a handful, thinks a lot of himself.’
Dingo's voice sounded strained so Wolf decided not to pursue the issue. ‘Do you know where Twidworth Square is?’
‘Doesn't everyone? It's been on the news.’ He punched some coordinates into the vehicles computer, chuckling throatily to himself.
Wolf sighed. ‘Must you?’
‘I don't know who thought putting that many bus stops so close together was a good idea.’