Professional Documents
Culture Documents
A novel
By
Iain Saunders
Dragonsfire
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Part One
Chapter One - Heaven and Earth
Streaming fire, the ship left orbit and exploded into jump-
space. For a micro-second the white hot combustion of her grav-
burners roared into the void, rippling the edges of time, dilating it,
extending it until the navicom could compensate. Her patchwork
engines gutted and died and she extended wings out into the grey-
white light of that volatile realm. Her wings caught the first current
easily, rocking the three member crew strapped into the bare
interior.
The acceleration began. At first it was the same as any
routine ship-bound acceleration. Twisting the wings of the ship,
catching current after current, seeking the faster streams. Then the
translight signal penetrated the void and a remote sensor switch
clicked softly deep in her belly. Data streams swarmed to her wings
and her skin peeled away and fell into the emptiness. Behind it the
shining membrane pulsed with purple, red and green light, leaving
trails of fire in the void. The ship moved on, accelerated past the
natural speed of the streams. Feeding the swirling void with
morsels of catalytic matter, urging it on to greater power, exciting it
from a gentle stream into a roaring torrent. The wings stretched
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against the building flood, rippling slowly. Inside the ship, the
raging tide pressed into the temples of the hapless crew. None of
them could change the course they were now set upon. There were
no controls for them to struggle with, no holo-fields offered them
time to prepare. Only contact nodes about their heads offered any
communication with the ship's brain, and that was giving nothing
away, it was simply feeding and recording.
After a short thirty seconds they had crossed the Red Eye
Nebula and were hurtling towards Praxis, the third arm of the
galaxy. They could never reach it. No one had. The gulf between
the two arms was too huge to cross in the streams and currents of
jump-space.
The eddies they left behind themselves warped the fabric of
normal space briefly, sending out ripples of destruction that would
reach nearby systems in centuries yet to come.
Fifty-five point one-six-six seconds into the journey the
wings began to tare. The catalytic matter was withdrawn
automatically, the wings falling dull once more. But the torrent did
not disperse. Creaking against the waves they were riding, only
their vapour trail now shone with the swirling purple aura that
surrounded active matter in jump-space. The rippling, exited
currents hurled themselves at the tender spines, hurtling through
the void at a velocity beyond the tolerance of any unprotected ship-
wing.
The first wing was ripped off completely shortly after
catalytic cut-off. It was cast out of jump-space, falling in a fiery
ball of annihilation sixty-three light years from Mutara, and the
tribal homelands. Spinning suddenly the rest of the ship bolted
from the aggravated currents into normal space twenty-two light
years later. The unchecked mutual annihilation of re-entry
consumed the remnants of the vessel and its occupants in a tiny
nova of fire shining against the background of the void and the
distant arm of Praxis.
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food, subsisting off the land, what it could provide and offer. He
could focus on himself, and only himself, his needs, wants and
desires.
At first living at the cottage had truly felt like exile. Indeed
it was supposed to be a time of punishment. A time in which he
was to re-focus, contemplate his mistakes, bring himself back onto
the strait and narrow road, or lose himself altogether.
During the first weeks he had yearned for technological
companionship, a holo-field, a broad-band box, even one of Kabel's
puffed up general systems AIs would have been preferred over his
initial sense of isolation. But the Eastern Peaks Counties were
Shak-ar - Sacred Life, no flyers buzzed overhead without prior
authorisation, no comm lines hummed beneath his feet, and nobody
with a life or any real sense ever came here.
The cottage - really no more than a two roomed, heated hut
- was situated near the foot of a mountain whose peak reached into
the skies two-thousand metres above Kallun's head. Below him was
a lake of fresh water which lay in the valley between the two peaks
and was fed by mountain streams. The northern peak dwarfed its
smaller southern sibling, whose walls were just high enough to
hold the lake in at its low eastern edge and be capped by snow in
the deep winter at it's tip. A forest of thick conifers closed the lake
in on three of it's four sides, the fourth opening out onto the lower
valley beyond, into which the lake's waters poured in a single
stream, to eventually join the massive Naluri river and skirt the
choking edges of Kabel far to the west. Kallun often wondered how
much of it ever made it out through the refuse that clambered near
the canyons of the Subs, and beyond to the Graywall sea. It pleased
him to think that at least some of it made the journey whole and
untainted by the filth of that great city.
Early on during his sojourn in the mountains he had
discovered that he was not quite as alone as his superiors would
have wished. There were many curious visitors to his cottage. Not
quite as wild as their creators would have liked them to be, many of
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he had scored a huge 198 out of possible 200 on his last Base
physical, just prior to the incident at Hiera IV: the incident that had
brought about his exile.
The only display of age Kallun could ever be accused of
was in his eyes. The kind of ageing inherent in a life-time of
combat experience. His soul was as callused as his hands, and his
mind worn sharp by too many years of walking the long thin tight-
rope which divided life and death. He appreciated his life, but he
could count on two fingers how many people would really mourn
him if he ever stepped on the wrong side of that line. His family
had long since passed through the White Gate beyond to dwell with
Erran. If you believed in that sort of thing.
He remembered them from time to time, but his memories
were vague, worn away at the edges like stone carvings that had
been blasted by desert sand.
The essential content of Dukall's the message was simple.
His exile had been terminated as of this morning. A small Drak
Flyer would be sent in to pick him up at 1200 hours and return him
to base. He had until then to gather his things together and prepare
for the flight to Base.
Kallun laughed gently. What things? He had come here
with next to nothing and he would leave the same way.
Admittedly, he was had not been the best of wilderness
men, at the beginning of his stay he had cheated a little. It had been
necessary, but he still felt a twinge of regret that even he, the great
Commander Josephs of Covert Operations couldn't survive alone in
the mountains.
The land around him had been too rocky to produce any
kind of crop sufficient for him to live off. The soil was too acidic.
Out of a need to survive he had used a cycle enhancer to change the
soil to the right consistency, acidity and nutrient balance in areas
around the cottage and near the lake so that it could support the
kind of crops he wanted to grow. The enhancer had worked for two
weeks before his arrival, planting and growing the same crops he
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had lived off for the last twelve months. Using a combination of
micro-climatical synthesisers and genetic manipulation the
expensive machine had managed to make sure that it was harvest
time for at least one-third of the crop when he had arrived. These
days they were rotated at one week intervals. Enough so that there
was a harvest required every week, the crops each taking three
week to grow. It sometimes fractured the illusion of independence
to know that his whole environment was artificially enhanced,
controlled and monitored, but it was the nearest thing to
independent survival that could be found on Seerak.
When the Arc had made their final decision, the day of
sentencing had loomed like a granite wall over his life. After seven
days of deliberation it was agreed to invoke a tradition that had lain
dormant in the judicial accords for centuries - exile. In modern
society the idea was as archaic as the term. At first he had
wondered if they would leave him on some barren rock to go mad
with his own thoughts out in galactic void. But when his options
had come he had breathed a sigh of relief that let out months of
anxiety. He was out signing the contract on the cycle enhancer that
afternoon. That had been over a year ago.
He had been given the option to serve at one of the southern
polar stations, but he had dismissed that avenue without a second
thought. There were few things in life that Kallun Josephs hated
with a passion, but since the time he had been left for dead on an
ice-bound moon on the near side of the Tribal Frontier, cold had
taken the number one spot for things most despised.
It had been during one of his first team missions, before he
transferred into Covert Operations. His suit thermo-regulator had
failed - shot out in a fire fight that had caught the team by surprise.
Freezing to death slowly, the blood of three puncture wounds in his
upper torso filling up his suit legs and his mind straying into
hypothermic delusions, he had stumbled across four kilometres of
ice-flow to find his base camp had already packed up and left
without him. His unit commander too afraid of reprisal squads sent
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out from the fortress colony they had been cataloguing to stay and
wait for survivors.
Later Kallun had learnt that the man was also scared to
death of losing his field commission after failing in a basic
reconnaissance mission. He had packed up and left without
checking the life-signals from the suits of the men gunned down in
the ambush. The commander's second had called him to order when
Kallun's blip appeared on their aft sensor screen. When they
returned for him Kallun was virtually frozen in his own blood. The
cold had stopped the wounds from killing him and had in turn kept
the life entombed within him long enough for rescue once he had
found his base camp gone.
The men that had died on that mission were mourned as any
war hero is back home. Their families were told that they died
honourably, fighting for the cause of freedom and the enlightened
path. The truth was they died in a meaningless skirmish that should
never have taken place. The unit's officers had never worked in a
high gravity (nearly 1.7g), sub-zero atmospheric environment
combination. It was before the days of encounter simulation
chambers and the planning of the operation had been like sitting
some situation theory test at Alpha Camp.
They had scored D minus.
Opting for short barrelled, light weight, Sharr rifles, and
choosing the more familiar mid-artic / vacuum suits rather than full
sized polar survival units, they had gone for ease of travel rather
than combat ready equipment. The suits weren't really the problem,
most suits that could take a vacuum could take a polar environment
and still keep the occupant pleasantly warm. The big difference in
the rarely used polar survival suits was the emergency equipment it
carried and it's ability to keep you warm even after the suit had
been compromised. In those days thermal field generators were
clumsy and heavy and the enemy was way ahead in thermal
technology.
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The drop had occurred during the time when Emrihsad base
colonies had been employing image effectors over their
settlements. Unable to find a way to unscramble the false pictures
transmitted by the devices, the decision had been taken on Seerak
to send in units of fleet stormtroopers to get in behind the effectors
and catalogue the exact nature and threat posed by some of the
more strategically positioned colonies. The occupants of those
colonies had been prepared for just that eventuality and Colest had
lost a lot of men gathering that information.
This mission was no different. After the deep-ship had
dispatched ECM's to confuse the colony's satellite defence net, the
unit, twelve men in all had dropped unnoticed in a shielded squad
shuttle to the surface of the moon. They had landed just a few
kilometres from the colony's fortress and trekked through the image
wall to within sight of the settlement dome. The going had been
slow, every twenty metres they had to plant a general sensor field, a
small hand held device which covered the progress of the unit from
prying eyes and alerted the team of booby traps. Of course these
devices meant that all observations had to been done the old
fashion way, with light refracting lenses for visual observation and
a stylus board for recording details. Not much in the way of
circuitry worked inside those fields.
When they arrived and began cataloguing the movements of
the settlement it had soon become obvious that the colony was a
military one. The dome was a one way refractor, blank from the
outside, but transparent from the inside. Beyond the confines of
that dome were the colony's space ports, hangers and supply
dumps, all to big and too expensive to build a full size military
dome over: particularly when the image effectors were doing such
a good job of hiding the settlement from prying eyes anyway.
They had been ambushed shortly before dawn, three hours
after their arrival. Enemy squads had used altitude drones to carpet
bomb the area around the field disrupters. Armed with rifled
puncture lasers, the enemy had been effective over long distances
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"Did I get ya?" The voice boomed out into the silence of the
valley as Kallun emerged with a wry grin.
"You come at me like bay-bull and you think you got me?"
Kallun boomed back. The volume in his voice wasn't necessary to
cover the eight metres between them but it was a part of the
camaraderie between the covert operations commander and his
pilot.
"I thought you might have slowed up during your
convalescence, gramps."
Kallun laughed. Andreas was only fifteen years his junior,
but he loved to tease his friend about his age whenever the
opportunity arose. They had both served for more years than they
liked to admit, Andreas having joined at a very young age but the
broad-shouldered pilot had often told Kallun that he needed
someone to remind him of his place in the world, and that meant
calling him "Gramps".
Andreas was from Korrell, a provincial capital and
protectorate of the Colest Council and a mere sixty-five light years
away. His people were mostly black skinned and heavy limbed, and
perhaps the most highly cultured of the protectorate planets in
Colest. Unlike his people, however, Andreas had little care or
concern for culture and etiquette. He was as brash as he was big
and Kallun had liked him since they had met so many years ago.
"I could slow to half speed and I'd still be fast enough to
dodge you!" Kallun grinned broadly as the space between the two
closed.
"I'll take you anytime." Andreas hit his chest with both
hands and stuck out his chin.
A second later he was on his back with Kallun's arm across
his throat and wondering what happened. Kallun had crossed the
remaining space between them in a blur and flattened his friend in
one move.
"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" Andreas gargled as Kallun
released his grip a little.
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"Yes." Kallun stood and gave the younger man a hand up.
"I thought that as I'd been off base for a few months you might
need a little humbling."
"I'm humble enough thank-you." Andreas brushed mud off
his dark cover-all. "Aw! Spawn of dragon's whore! This is going to
be hell to get off the seats."
"You'll manage." Kallun laughed, already moving to the
damp vehicle.
"I just cleaned the flyer this morning!" Andreas said,
following him.
"How terrible for you."
Kallun reached the flyer, touched his fingers to the locking
pad and swung into the passenger seat.
"You know I at least expected some kind of 'Hello, how you
doin'' or 'Nice to see you, Andreas'." The dark pilot hoped into his
broad flight seat, straddling the waldo deck and flicking on his
harness field as he did so. Tracing Kallun's gaze he let his eyes
creep across the tamed wilderness that had been his friend's home.
"'You gonna miss this place?" Andreas's voice was quieter
now.
"I'll be back."
Andreas looked at Kallun in surprise. "Not planning on
pulling another one of your world saving - politician busting stunts
again are you?"
Kallun smiled. "Not immediately, no."
"Gonna work up to it slowly are we?"
"No." Kallun laughed softly. "I like it here." Andreas's look
forced Kallun to laugh again, a little more loudly than before. "All
right, I know: I'm mad."
"You said it, gramps."
Andreas smoothed his hands into the dry comfort of the
waldo's and let the flyer's holographic instrumentation wash
smooth over him. The doors shut automatically and for a second
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***
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***
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not know and had not guessed was that the Chief of Operations had
used the opportunity to modify Alpha Camp and several other
bases to suit his own vision. Copying the vicious security devices
of Colest's most dangerous enemies, Dukall had built into the face
lift a whole new set of defence measures, escape routes, and
counter-offensive equipment. The very walls that had been
designed to soothe the gentle eyes of visiting dignitaries and the
public at large were bristling with monitor and control devices as
lethal as the armoured drones that met every ship on it's way in.
The door clicked open behind him and Kallun turned.
"Commander Dukall is running a few minutes late, sir."
said Neil, sticking half his body through the antique portal. "I'm
sorry to keep you waiting."
"Don't worry about it." Kallun murmured as the head and
torso disappeared into the reception area once more.
The fact that he had been allowed to wait here in the office
indicated a level of trust given to few people in the establishment.
The waiting area was outside, in the reception.
A couple of minutes later the door clicked again. This time
it was Dukall, sliding his stocky bulk through the doorway and
closing it behind him.
"Ah, good afternoon." Dukall's eyebrows raised and he
headed straight for Kallun with an outstretched hand.
Rising to meet him Kallun noticed the stack of papers under
one of arm. It contained a mission dossier, a recon. report and two
personnel files. Alarm bells started ringing in his head as he took
Dukall's hand and gripped it firmly.
"Good morning, sir." Kallun said with a nod.
Dukall moved around the broad desk to the chair opposite,
waving a hand briskly as if shoving something distasteful aside.
"We dispensed with the saluting and the 'sir's between us
some time ago, Kallun, lets keep it that way."
"Yes, sir." Kallun said with a smile.
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Kallun shook his head slightly, his eyes questing for more.
He knew the name, some high ranking priest that may or may not
have once been involved in the Gaeran heresy. But Church ops
weren't his speciality, they were mostly handled by the intelligence
department and not by hot zone operatives like himself.
Dukall continued. "Twelve months ago Irache was second
protectorate to the Patriarch of Gaera, our new spiritual leaders."
The last part was said with some considerable contempt. Dukall
remembered the Heresy at the end of the Hundred Year War as
well as Kallun. "Now he is the Patriarch himself, the old one
having mysteriously gone the way of all the earth shortly after you
left. Recently he has been using his seat on the Council to gain as
much support for the Heresy and himself as possible. Nobody
knows why. This last meeting was my third meeting in a week with
sub-camp Chiefs who have had their toes trodden on by Gaeran
movements inside their own camps."
"Inside the camps? Isn't that illegal?"
Dukall shrugged. "Technically. But the insurgence is subtle
and Chairman Fraque's religious freedom act allows the State
religion a degree of movement within all low-risk military
facilities. I thank Erran that Alpha Camp does not yet fall into that
category."
"But other's on Seerak do?" That had not been the case
before.
Dukall spread his hands and shrugged. "They do now.
Frankly I don't know what the old fellow is up too. Psi-ops can't get
a look in. But the Seiron Legions, his military jihad, is making
some strange moves across the galactic arm. Add to that his support
base in the government and I'm not sure what I'm looking at with
this fellow."
"Potential insurgent?" Kallun asked.
"Erran only knows. But Chairman Fraque backs him on
everything, including the scaling down of the Colest armed forces."
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Dukall put his hands in the air. "Emrihsad agrees to talk to us and
they think the war is over."
Kallun leaned forward, his heart skipping a beat.
"Emrihsad agreed to talks?" He almost shouted it but
checked his voice just in time. "When?"
"They opened a line of communication just two months ago
through one of the border colonies. Now we have them coming
here to negotiate a relaxation of the trade restrictions we imposed
on one another at the end of the Hundred Year War."
Kallun sat back momentarily stunned. Colest and Emrihsad
had been at war with one each other one way or another for
centuries. There was little recorded evidence that the two cultures
had ever had any other contact than that of violent confrontation
since the first meeting of ships on the tribal frontier.
In those days the Colest was a loose union of worlds
working together to expand towards the galactic centre, unaware
that another culture had beaten them to the inner arm.
Emrihsad was a more established, better equipped and
significantly older culture than the youthful union of a few-hundred
worlds calling themselves Colest. Its traditions were embroiled in
antiquity and its close links to the savagery of the tribal
homeworlds had left them with a culture much more devoutly
spiritual than Colest. The two cultures hated each other
immediately.
In the war that followed Emrihsad should have wiped
Colest out completely. But it found itself unable to. Although
Emrihsad ships were better armed, their troops better equipped,
they lacked the ability to organise themselves into a single effective
fighting force. Their spiritualism had left them divided into sects
ruled by families of tremendous power and they found it hard to
put aside old differences and unite against a common enemy.
Colest had no problem with unity. They had fought like wolves for
their prey and had met the initial Emrihsad invasion with culpable
efficiency.
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The First War, lasted only three years. It was a war of fire
and savagery, in which both sides threw everything they had at one
another. They had called a truce after the loss of almost all of the
colonies along the border. Years later the second war erupted, less
violent than the first but just as bloody. It was in this war that
Emrihsad's barbaric reputation had been established. Since that
time they had clashed and clashed. Colest peoples angered at being
cut off from the expanse of the galactic disc were trapped in the
spiral arm their worlds resided in and unable to circumnavigate
Emrihsad territories. Emrihsad sects raised jihads, enraged by the
thought of a blatantly possessionist society spreading across the
galaxy. The Hundred Year War had been the last open hostilities
between the two sides, it had ended just two decades before, and
had been immediately replaced by the so-called Silent War, named
for its utter lack of known battles but consistent and unremitting
casualties.
Kallun guessed that the growing resurgence of religious
activity amongst Colest worlds in previous years had caused some
of the Emrihsad people's hatred of their enemies to dissipate.
"When?" Kallun said, regaining his composure. "When are
the talks?"
"They start officially on the First day of the Erranion New
Year, but practically they begin the following day, on Dragon's
Fall."
"One month?"
"Hardly time enough." Dukall frowned. "Do you have any
idea the scale of military operation this will have to be! And Fraque
wants me to keep it discrete!"
Dukall spread the files out in front of him as if brushing it
aside.
"I thought Andreas would have caught you up on this.
That's half the reason I sent him. He can talk to you."
"Andreas caught me up on a lot of things, but politics was
not what he was talking about."
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a picture over across the polished top of the desk. "This is what he
found."
The imprint was a visual scan taken from reading the retina
of one eye via the optic nerve, it had been modulated for ease of
viewing but it still stretched slightly at the edges. Kallun looked
back up at Dukall.
"A ship?"
"Can you tell what kind?"
Kallun glanced back at the picture. "Destroyer class Kapal
ship, standard form. Except .." Now he looked closer at the picture.
"Except that the retraction bulb where the wings extend on this ship
is striped bare and the matt black skin of the vessel is unusual on a
Kapal made ship."
Dukall nodded satisfied.
"Now these."
Two more pictures came Kallun's way. He looked at them
more carefully this time.
"Same ship." The first picture looked like a close up on the
retraction bulb, it was close enough to see the membrane of the
jump wings. "It looks like they are modifying the membrane on the
wing. Hooking up some sort of feeder tubes to the spines?"
"An injection module." Dukall cut in.
Kallun searched the other picture for something unusual.
"An image of the hull."
"Look at the position of the grav. burners in the
background."
Kallun scanned the picture, the hull was the same matt
black that stretched the ship all the way to the grav. burners at the
rear of the vessel. It struck him suddenly.
"This is a starboard side shot. Where's the docking doors?
The cargo ports?"
"Our thoughts exactly." Dukall pushed the last picture over
the desk. "Now, take a look at command control."
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***
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***
Day 1. 1615 Peninsular Summer Time (CKT +4)
Leaving the office and retreating down the adjacent corridor
towards the core-lift, Vash and Kallun walked side-by-side. Vash
seemed agitated and excited, talking quickly, her words coming out
like the rapport of an automatic pistol.
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never gone beyond them. For him, they were about to enter
unknown territory.
Looking at the grey carpet, it seemed to Kallun that the
Institute had come a long way in the years since his last visit. The
halls and corridors now had an almost comfortable feel to them,
quite unlike the harsh militism Emrihsad was reputed to adore. In a
way, the Institute was beginning to resemble their own Alpha
Camp.
A fat, self-important Guardian seated before them was
refusing to let them into the shaft-car unless their names appeared
on his three month authorisation list. The list was on paper, and
Yarrin hadn't been able to tamper with it. The small grey man was
dealing with it smoothly. Leaning against the waist high reception
desk Yarrin had a look of casual friendliness on his pale features.
Yarrin's shaded skin was almost grey in colour, like his
eyes. He was deceptively shorter than Kallun, his long arms and
legs slightly disproportional to his small body. He was a low-
walker - a group of people whose low-gravity up-bringing often
disadvantaged them on standard gravity worlds. It didn't show to
most people, but Kallun could tell that Yarrin had worked tirelessly
to be equal in strength and power to his standerd-g brethren. It
seemed to be his only redeeming feature.
On the whole, however, Kallun didn't like him. He had a
natural distrust of traitors on any side of a war. This excuses for
treason were never very convincing, and usually belied basic
weaknesses which could get a man killed. Yarrin was of the time
whose work seemed calculated, planned and without conscience.
That indicated he was doing this for some kind of personal gain,
and Kallun knew that having such people on your side could be a
two-edged sword.
"Did not the prophet Draniah of the Benhi say 'When the
wise walk with the foolish, they are wise no more'?" Yarrin
laughed, showing his huge white teeth. "Come Skell, my friend, my
colleagues are no fools and I would not sully myself with them if
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but the highest authorities have seen him, and then only in
darkness."
Yarrin nodded like an age old sage imparting some ancient
wisdom.
"It is said that he was sent by Halla-Ka to bring destruction
upon our enemies. It is said that he walks with a shadow-runner
who never leaves his side except to kill the unbeliever and torture
the inefficient worker. It is said that it is death to see his face, that
even his shadow-runner assassin lives with his dark-suit on at all
times, his face hidden in blackness. Some say that he has seen the
Dragon and lived, and that he walks in the otherness day and night
to watch the work of his creation."
Yarrin spread his arms and suddenly laughed.
"It is also said that peeling gamba fruit when two-moons
converge will reveal the face of your future bride. Who knows what
we should believe."
"What do you think?" Kallun asked.
"I think he is wise but eccentric, and too much religion has
made this people superstitious."
Kallun nodded. That much had been in the mission dossier.
Shadiim was a mystery to both sides, and Kallun wished he had the
time to find out more.
The shaft box thudded to a halt. The three of them stood up,
opened the door and stepped into the white corridors of the Institute
Research Levels.
***
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similarly dressed to Kallun and Vash. Only Yarrin stood out in his
brown and blue uniform which signified his status at a Guardian of
the Fifth Arm.
At this level their electronic patches really came into play.
The tags on their arms were scanned every few metres by sensors
in the walls, making sure they didn't take a wrong turn. There had
been one heart stopping moment earlier when they had been halted
by a force-field and questioned by a fist-sized drone. It turned out
that they had turned into an limited access personnel area that their
patches didn't give them clearance to enter. Kallun had just begun
reaching for his blaster pistol when the drone had scanned them,
issued an alternate route to their intended destination and zipped
away.
Yarrin had simply shrugged. "They change the routes often.
To keep us on our guard, and remind us that nothing should be
taken for granted within these walls."
It had taken them thirty minutes to walk through the various
project and production rooms to the great design bay in the heart of
the Research levels. On the way Yarrin had explained that normally
the levels would not be so busy at such a time of night, but the
great and mighty Shadiim had ordered that the ship be ready to fly
for a full systems test and combat simulation by 0135. Teams had
been working round the clock testing and checking, shoring up the
hull and optimising every one of the new systems within the proto-
type. The visitors would view the ship at its peak flight ready
status. Of course this his esteemed guests already knew and were
most welcome to investigate any part of the level's design stations,
most of whom were running simulations on their own specialised
area of the ship at the moment, if they would just give him the
word. This had been added for the benefit of the concealed
monitors watching them every step of the way. Kallun and Vash
had played their part and insisted that their 'guide' take them to
main bay so that they could view the ship first hand before it made
it's first flight.
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***
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few hours? Who is working for him and why don't we know who
they are?"
"No deep-cover operative can be expected to give that much
information about themselves."
"I know that, but the Institute runs regular allegiance scans
and psyche tests on it's workers. Why hasn't he been weeded out
along with the rest of their potential saboteurs?"
"What are you saying, that this is a trap?" Vash said, her
heart quickening.
"I am saying that this has been the easiest insertion
operation I have ever run, and its into Emrihsad's highest security
facility. When things go this well you have to ask yourself how and
why. The only explanation we have is the word of one man that
there is a lot of electronic deception going on that is making our
passage into this ship so smooth."
"Are you suggesting we do something?"
"No, no I'm not. Except to watch our backs."
A small shift in the air alerted them to Yarrin's emergence
from the pod. As the living morphe-flesh retreated from his body
he smiled his toothy grin.
"The ship is ready." he said with a flourish
"How long do we have until the Endeavour arrives?"
Kallun asked, knowing Yarrin would have the information at hand
immediately.
"Twenty minutes, standard."
The Endeavour was the Emrihsad Attack Cruiser presently
assigned to the Institute. As the largest of the small fleet of military
vessels assigned to the facility it was the only military ship with the
speed and firepower to follow the Dragonsfire into jump space and
destroy it. It had been called out of orbit by a fake distress signal
about an hour previously. By now it should have figured out that it
had been lured away and be heading back to the Institute at full
speed.
"What about commercial vessels?" Vash asked.
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Kallun looked around and realised that she was right. The
chair shimmered momentarily.
"Don't fight it though. If this place has as much
resemblance to the otherness as I think it has, you just have to let
your sub-conscious do some of the creating for you."
"I'll try to remember that." Kallun accepted her at her word.
This was the reason why Dukall wanted a psi-op in this position
and he wasn't about to question her wisdom.
"Don't worry about it." Vash said kindly and then laughed.
"I just can't believe how huge this place is! For a simulation that
is."
Kallun looked around him, all he could see was his displays
and the mist beyond it. It didn't look huge at all.
"Where's Yarrin?" Kallun asked suddenly.
"Over there." Vash indicated the mists to his left. "You
have to connect your pods to see him, the control is above you."
Kallun cursed. He should have seen that straight away. As
he reached up to the panel with his hand Vash interrupted him.
"Not like that." She walked through his displays, startling
Kallun. They had felt solid to his touch. When she stood directly in
front of him she pointed up at the comm. panel. "Will it to come to
your hand."
Kallun looked at her confused.
"Any inorganic apparition of the otherness can be
manipulated by will alone." Vash explained "That's the genius of
morphe-space as flight control technology. If you want to use any
of the non-essentials up there, just will them into your display area.
They'll come."
Slightly unsure of himself, Kallun focused on the comm.
panel and imagined it moving to his hand. Sure enough, it came as
he willed it. In truth he hadn't believed that this sort of control
would be either as simple or as easy. It was unlike Emrihsad to
hone technology to such a fine edge. He laughed, suddenly
forgetting for a moment that Vash was with him.
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"There. You look better when you laugh." Vash said with a
smile. Her eyes turned dark and mischievous and she placed her
hand on his chest. It tingled with a life-fire all of its own. Her voice
was deep and inviting. "Do you know. The possibilities are
endless." The rush of sensation that poured from her hand through
his body made Kallun gasp and push her hand away.
Laughing, Vash walked out of his circle of information.
"Don't forget to connect your pod." She said before turning
into a fire-fly once more and darting out of his vision.
He touched the panel now by his finger tips and mentally
sent it packing back to it's place above his head.
Yarrin and Vash appeared to his left and right, each of them
seated in the mists of morphe-space, surrounded by their own
control domes. In the middle of their triangle the sphere of an
empty holo-field glowed slightly. Vash didn't even look like she
had moved.
"The most effective operational position is to place your
hands comfortably in front of you with your fingers spread." Yarrin
said, wasting no time with frivolity. He demonstrated the position
with his hands. "This way controls will come to your fingers easily.
At first you will have a tendency to move your hands out to the
controls, and this may cause some confusion. But as long as you
keep your thoughts focused on flying the ship she will respond to
your unspoken commands as fast as you can think them. The
displays around you are for your benefit. Not the ship's. Whilst in
morphe-space she knows your every conscious thought and sub-
conscious desire. Our filters remove extraneous information from
that maelstrom of commands, leaving only those directly related to
the ship and have learnt to identify speculation against command
thoughts. However, she operates at optimum efficiency when you
keep your mind clear and focused." Yarrin glanced at Vash
momentarily. "Anything else you do in here is a simple exercise of
will."
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precision flying, but not all. The grav-burners were suffering badly
and their escape had been significantly slowed.
"Another wave attack at two-ten. Three ships."
Kallun cursed. He had tried to fire the destroyers huge guns
in defence when the fighters first attacked, but they had been
locked out along with every other defensive measure bigger than
the docking guns. Yarrin might have found a way around them, but
all Kallun could do was fly the ship. The docking guns were as
useless against the Dkall's armour as the fighter's blasters were
against the Dragonsfire's hull.
"Dragon's breath! We need something to fight back with."
he cursed.
"You want I should lean out the air-lock and throw boxes at
them?" Vash asked with more than a hint of sarcasm. Kallun
ignored the remark. He plotted another evasion course. Trying to
activate it he suddenly found his access was denied.
"Hold off on that a second." Vash said distantly.
"We don't have a second." Kallun retorted, annoyed that she
had blocked his command, but more annoyed that he didn't know
how she did it.
"We might."
With a start, Kallun realised that Vash was fading from his
view. Her right arm had already completely disappeared.
"Vash! What are you doing!" he shouted.
"Trying something. Something I learned in the otherness.
I'm sure I've found a gateway that might be just what we are ..."
Her figure flared blindingly bright and then disappeared.
"Vash!"
Kallun tried to trace her with ships sensors, flinging up
images of from around the ship and as much as he could find of
morphe-space in a few seconds. But he could only confirm that she
had not left her morphe. His attention on the screen suddenly, he
noticed a new blue haze around the holographic model of the ship
to his right.
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"Yes." Her eyes were boring into him again. "But, unlike
you, instead of sitting around and playing with you neural control
link, I have already managed to access the command networks."
Kallun was impressed, if only a little. He didn't generally
approve of projections and AI's impersonating humanity. Most of
the religious cast had outlawed it anyhow, but he decided to cut this
one some slack and see what if he couldn't use it to his advantage.
"Then tell me." He said, glancing over at Vash's empty
station. "Where is my companion?"
"The one you call Vash, has slipped through the gate that
guards this accursed cloak and fallen into realms beyond even my
power. For now. It is likely, however, that she will return when you
enter jump-space and there is a shifting in the realms. The gate is
not yet strong enough to hold onto her during that event." Reanne
looked around her at the various projections and displays scattered
across morphe-space. "Now may I go?"
"If you wish."
"Thank you so much." She said oozing sarcasm. She
shuddered and disappeared leaving Kallun to wonder at the kind of
mind would devise such a programme on a military vessel.
***
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no response. Shifting her weight she kept her grip on the handle
and pulled.
To her surprise the door moved. It was heavy and she
leaned into the pull to drag it back far enough to see what lay
beyond. She was apparently not confined to the room, or at least no
one had expected her to wake up at that particular moment.
Initially there was only blackness beyond the doorway,
however a brief, faint sound, like many voices murmuring from a
distance, drew her out of the room to where she could see light at
the end of a distant stone tunnel. She could see no other doorways
in that tunnel, other than her own, whilst the distant light cast
strange shadows which could have concealed anything from the
local rat populace to a small attack squad. The sound was coming
from that direction.
As silently as possible she stepped through the darkness,
carefully measuring each step before taking it. Half way towards
the light the murmuring increased in pitch and died suddenly. The
silence which followed was fearsome and pulled at Vash's sanity.
Fighting the urge to get out of the dark and into the light she
continued her walk and focused her will upon a short range scan for
human presence. She felt nothing.
Closing in on the source of the light she noticed how much
it moved. Like fire but not as soft, everything here had a crystal
edge to it. The tunnel opened out onto a hallway lit by flame globes
spread at regular intervals along the many arches which lined its
edge. There was still no sign of human life, but there were sounds
echoing off the high roof, another fusion of noises which made
little sense all together and made Vash afraid of what she might
encounter in this strange, stone, fortress.
Her steps now echoed with the noises from beyond the
hallway, making stealth impossible and furthering her growing
sense of unease.
Without warning a light flashed from an arch in front of
her. An image of a doorway lit up the wall opposite and Vash
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***
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Part Two
Chapter Four - Seven heads
"In that day shall the seven heads of the wind rise amidst
the tumult and smite upon the inhabitants of the stars. Their silence
shall howl like the wolves of Gaera, their quiet steps shall fall like
smoke from heaven and they shall tear asunder the bickering
words of Kings, Governments and rulers with the heat of their
breath." Extract from The Second Book of Midiana, Chapter 2,
verse 4 (Taken from the Caverns of Shal-Riaa)
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suspect it. No Guardian could have pulled off such a feat without
some high class help. But who?
He would almost have been relieved if he got back to Alpha
Camp and found a communiqué from Emrihsad High Command
boasting of finding and eliminating a Colest spy in the Institute.
Such boasts usually came with a picture and identification details.
He would know then for certain then if Yarrin was the man he
claimed to be. Emrihsad was quite fastidious about such details.
Vash stirred once more and Kallun's attention flickered
back to her sleeping form. She had fallen asleep not long after they
arrived in this no-name hole of a cubicle. The lodgings they shared
were the kind of one room, two-bed boxes buried deep in the
colonial port of Araken and used regularly by people who were
keeping their heads down and avoiding unnecessary attention.
The Institute would have notified High Command of the
theft by now and would have it's operatives along the border
colonies and in the major cities searching high and low for traces of
the Dragonsfire and the crew that had stolen it. Vash and Kallun's
faces would be circling the contact web. Some-one may have even
connected the features of the missing research assistant Kulla, with
Kallun's muscular frame. His features were probably still known by
a few members of Querl, Emrihsad's own version of the Covert
Operations Sector.
Yarrin claimed that he had erased the local record of
Kallun's previous visits but the information was certain to be
relayed to Querl Command by now and he didn't wonder that
someone would soon realise that Kulla was in fact Kallun Josephs.
For now then, they would hole up in the dirty grey box
room and keep their heads down until they received a signal
ordering them to move. The box was deep in the worker's
residential area of Araken where they wouldn't be noticed until one
of Alpha-camp's middle men could arrange false identities and
passage back to Seerak. In Kallun's experience that could take
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***
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throng around the bar area indicated that it would remain so for
some time to come despite the departing crowds. Kallun shouldered
his way to the bar and caught the attention of an adolescent boy
behind the counter. He was a skinny lad with a shock of ginger hair
who looked like he was ready to go home and was not relishing the
prospect of serving customers for much longer.
"Two Kabellan refugees, please." Kallun said calmly. It was
an old and not very secret code word, but it served its purpose. The
boys eyes widened suddenly and his mouth moved soundlessly.
With a sudden, swift movement he was gone, returning a moment
later followed by a man who was not much bigger than himself but
considerably older. The skinny man picked Kallun out from the
mass of bodies at the bar and smiled.
"Well look what the cat dragged in!" The man's voice was
deep and loud in contradiction to his wiry frame and skinny
features.
"It's been a while, Janus." Kallun smiled.
"Not long enough." Janus eyes narrowed. "I swore I'd gut
you personally after that stunt you pulled last time."
"The one with your section manager?" Kallun asked
innocently.
"The very same." Janus growled.
Kallun laughed genuinely. "It worked, didn't it?"
"Oh, yes, it worked all right. Once the poor fellow got out
of hospital that is."
Vash was looking a little confused behind Kallun.
"I'm sorry Vash," Kallun turned to allow Vash through.
"This is Janus, owner and proprietor of the Sabertooth and bane of
every protectorate trying to clamp down on the shipment of illegal
goods."
"My lady." Janus executed a short, dramatic bow. "I hope
you know what a vile specimen of humanity you travel with
tonight."
"I am quite aware, thank-you."
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"Good!" Janus lowered his voice and lean over the bar
conspiratorially. "But if you require some personal protection from
such scum, just let me know, hey?" He winked and straightened
suddenly. The boy who had been serving customers all the while
had approached and whispered something in the older man's ears.
"Yours?" Kallun asked nodded at the boy when he had gone
again.
"Yes. How did you guess?" Janus said running his hand
through his own ginger hair with more than a trace of irony.
"He's grown."
"He grows all the time. But now I make him buy his own
clothes he doesn't grow so quickly!" Janus laughed. "But to
business. My son tells me your contact just arrived. He's waiting
for you in booth seven."
"You have our thanks, Janus. Be well." Kallun nodded and
turned away.
"It's not your thanks that pay the bills!" Janus bellowed after
them. Kallun laughed despite himself Janus was well paid by the
Colest tax payer for his services but he still moaned about the bar
bills some of them ran up.
Booth seven was around the corner from the bar in a darker
part of the tavern. It had been specially fitting many years ago with
counter-surveillance equipment to shield the occupants from prying
eyes and ears. The padded bench stretched around a grey table and
was enclosed on three sides by high wooden partitions carved with
colonial art-work. It was not much different from all the other
booths scattered around the walls of the tavern and only a close and
prolonged examination would have revealed the network of field
generators, spy shields and signal repellents that surrounded the
booth. Approaching from the bar side it looked empty. Their
contact must have had his back to them as he was hidden from
sight by the partition wall as they approached. It was only when
they neared the table itself that Kallun recognised the familiar
features of his old friend.
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from her nose and the marines cowering in pain. "I was meaning to
tell you about it all when you got some R and R after the mission.
But .. " Andreas shrugged and smiled at them both. "You met lady-
girl here before I got chance."
Kallun was surprised to find himself a little jealous.
Discovering that Andreas had been protecting Vash from the usual
anti psi-op feeling around the base without Kallun's help somehow
disturbed him. For a moment, and for the first time since he had
returned from the mountains, he regretted his exile. Andreas and
Kallun had always acted as the general righters of wrongs and
defenders of the innocent when it came to camp social life, it was a
game they had played since before Andreas got married. He simply
hadn't thought that Andreas kept on playing even when he wasn't
there.
"Don't worry about it." Kallun said, dismissing the matter
with wave of his hand. "Now, what's gone so terribly wrong that
Dukall sends you flying out to this hovel?"
Andreas breathed deeply and frowned.
"I'm sorry my friends but it is bad news. I do not know how
to say this simply. But I'm afraid you are not going home yet."
Vash lent back on the bench, her expression unreadable.
"Why?" she asked.
"Things are going on back home that the boss can't control.
And you know how much he likes to control everything." Andreas
begun.
"What? Doesn't peace with the enemy fit his agenda?"
Kallun said with more irony than he had intended.
Andreas looked startled, like Kallun had just derailed his
train of thought.
"Nothing like, my friend, nothing like that at all. Peace is a
lot more controlled than war, even silent ones. His fear is that the
government presently arranging these peace talks will not be the
one meeting the Emrihsad delegation three weeks from now."
Kallun's eyes narrowed as he leant forward.
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"Go on."
Andreas shifted some of his weight onto his elbows and
cross his arms on the table in front of him.
"The Church has been building power in the government for
a number of years now. So long in fact that its not only the boss
who has harboured fears that they are still looking for ultimate
power in Colest."
"It's been many years since they made that threat. They've
been held in check since then." Kallun shrugged. Any fool could
see that the Gaeran Heresy had become one of the stronger players
on the political field recently, but they had kept within the rules
they had been bound to after the eradication of their Hieran rivals.
Kallun had been forced to side against them in the skirmish at
Hiera IV, but that didn't mean that the Church was becoming a
threat to Colest Security. Did it?
Andreas nodded, his accent was slipping as he spoke, an
indication of how he felt about the message he was delivering.
"Mostly they've stayed within the bound of their legal duty. The
legions, the military arm of the church, have done nothing without
our supervision, and the Priesthood has stuck to ecclesiastical
labour everywhere except for Seerak. Even there Irache holds a
simple observation seat on the Council." Andreas paused. "I say
'mostly', because, as your brush at Hiera IV proved, there have
been things going on in the background that have indicated
stirrings.
"After the conflict at Hiera IV, Dukall stepped up his
intelligence operation inside the church, began applying pressure
for results. What they came up with was frightening. Patriarch
Irache virtually dictates policy within the Heresy. He's surrounded
himself with a fawning council that will do anything he says as
long as they perceive a profit in it. and he's restructured his
administration so much so that nothing happens in Colest and even
in parts of Emrihsad, without him knowing about it."
"Quite the dictator." Vash said.
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near it. The only thing that can remove that seat of power now is
the evocation of clause fifteen."
Kallun shook his head taking a guess at the reasons behind
Andreas's visit and recalling the clause in question. According to
ancient law, when a body or protectorate was given a seat on the
council there were twenty-one clauses that they had to live up to in
order to keep that seat for the first seven months of their
occupancy. Of all those clauses only the evocation of the fifteenth
clause had power enough to bring about the immediate removal of
the new member of council. That clause was a charge of treason.
But without legal evidence it would never stick and Kallun doubted
they had much of that.
"No one could prove clause fifteen, there's no reason for it."
Kallun shook his head. "Does Dukall think Irache will misuse the
power?"
"Virtual certainty, gramps." Andreas spoke with a
confidence born of experience. He and Kallun both had butted
heads with church operatives in the past. "The actions of the last
few days both in and out of the public eye suggest that Irache'll
waste no time in securing his position. Dukall believes Irache
intends to be Chairman of the Council within twelve months.
Perhaps earlier. There are indications that he might even secure that
position with military assistance."
"From whom?"
"The Seiron Legions. Irache reformed and mobilised them
again six months ago, unofficially, of course."
"That bunch of brainless louts? We out number them a
hundred to one." Kallun could hardly contain his contempt. He had
clashed with the legions more than once in his time and despised
their method of war with a deep and burning passion. They were a
foul collection of religious zealots who believed that their lives
were one long holy war. The bloody trail left by the legions when
they assisted the Heresy in wresting the power of the Church from
the Priests of Hiera had left a bitter taste in the mouths of all those
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who witnessed it. It still turned Kallun's stomach to know that this
generation of youth were taught virtually nothing concerning the
deeds done by the legions during that most recent period in history.
"I don't think we are talking about a head-on confrontation
here." Vash said quietly.
Andreas nodded "The Boss's men confronted Irache
publicly on the issue just after you left. Yesterday the Patriarch
launched a ready made propaganda campaign justifying reforming
the legions. He claims that they have been re-instituted as an army
of righteousness to aid and assist the over-stretched forces of our
beloved government. To bring peace and order to the systems of
Colest and as a symbol of what can be achieved with the both
government and church working together. The usual crap. The
Council was just a little upset that he had gone contrary to Council
Resolution without seeking their approval for it, but attempts to
bring action against the Church have met with opposition.
"Odds are high that Irache and Fraque are working together
on this one. But what the Chairman hopes he's getting from
supporting the Heresy and its legions is anyone's guess."
"Any public reaction to the move?" asked Kallun.
"Surprisingly little. A few demonstrations by the usual
subber groups camping outside the Council Chambers." Andreas
bowed his head momentarily. "My friends, whilst we have been
fighting our silent war and preserving the freedom of our people,
those same people have been exercising that freedom and joining
the Church by the million. Even my people have been affected by
it. But compared to us Kabel is a hot bed of religious fervour.
Irache is right about one thing, he does have the voice of many
people behind him. It is a dangerous time to be an unbeliever."
"So no-one objected to the rebirth of the Legions." Kallun
swore suddenly. "It was to stop this kind of religious dictatorship
that we went to war with Emrihsad in the first place!"
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Balance were brutal and bloody, and many of the prophets had long
since denounced their existence as spawned of the Dragon and his
Dark Minions.
The similarity between the Emrihsad and Colest churches
had not prevented war between their people. The practises of the
mysteries had been much abhorred by the more materialistic Colest
believers. But it was long suspected that the Patriarchs of Colest
and the High Priests and Teachers of Emrihsad had worked
together for their own ends many times over the centuries.
The greatest upheaval for the last few centuries in the
Colest Church was the Gaeran Heresy. It had come at a time when
there had been disputations among Priests of Hiera concerning
many points of doctrine, most particularly concerning the coming
of Geddinan, the prophesied great battle between Erran and the
Dragon. Whilst Hiera argued amongst its own, the Priests of Gaera,
those responsible for the temporal administration of the Church,
had been using their influence over material affairs to gain power
in the Church. Eventually they gained the support of the Valkon,
Seiron and Gimnian Priesthoods. After much inner contention the
Gaeran Heresy as it became known declared itself the new spiritual
leaders of the Church and outlawed the Priests of Hiera.
The Seiron Legions had been used repeatedly to surpress
attempts to restore Hieran authority within the Church. When news
of their bloody deeds and massacres reached the ears of the Colest
Council a resolution was passed ordering the Church to dis-mantle
the legions as a military force and solve their internal disputes via
other means.
"Why would the shadow-runners take control of the
legions? Aren't they supposed to be assassins? I shouldn't have
thought military command was amongst their list of skills." Kallun
said, mulling the idea of Colest shadow-runners through his head.
It was a terrifying thought.
Andreas spread his hands.
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his head and dark eyes glared out of the holo defying the world to
cross him.
"This is your friend D'rethen, a former hot zoner now in
intelligence." Andreas gestured towards the holo.
"I didn't say he was a friend." Vash said quickly.
"Well his operative record is exemplary, if a little brutal.
His field of operation is the Seiron legions. He poses as both
commander and shadow-runner within that organisation. It was
through him that we were alerted to the mobilisation of the legions.
Over the last two years we believe he has even gained the personal
trust of the patriarch himself. He's also a high-worlder, so don't get
on the wrong side of him."
Kallun masked his surprise. He hadn't heard of any high-
worlders in Alpha Camp. They were a race of people that lived on
high-g planets and, much to the relief of most neighbouring
systems, were notoriously agoraphobic. A few appeared in
civilisation from time to time and it was from them that knowledge
of the people grew. They looked no different to any other human
being, coming in all shapes and sizes, but what made them stand
out was their inhuman strength, they could jump metre's into the air
without so much as breaking into a sweat, their bones, muscle and
sinew were extremely compact and efficient.
"You said that you 'believe' he has gained the personal trust
of the patriarch?" Kallun queried. Andreas shrugged.
"Other than that one communiqué, there's been no contact
with him with several months now. Boss reckons he's too deep in to
come out much."
Andreas changed the picture again. The face of a second
woman appeared, considerably different from the first. This face
was younger with eyes that smiled, a pleasant contrast to her pale
complexion and sallow cheeks. She looked like any other youth of
Kabel, with her hair long down the middle and shaved at the sides.
On her right cheek Kallun could just make out the tattoo of a
single, ancient key: a long metal object with teeth at the end.
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ever it was, its virtually certain that they now own the
Dragonsfire."
***
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the so called passage of fire." She shrugged. "I don't know what it
was supposed to mean here."
Kallun glanced over to where Janus was directing the
pursuit via a wrist comm.
"I should help." said Kallun.
"I wouldn't bother." Vash replied. "They won't catch him."
In the distance there was a sudden orange flare against the
dome, followed a second later by the distant roar of an explosion.
The noise was amplified and carried across the dome. Janus stared
at the dying fire-ball in the distance and then trotted over to where
Kallun and Vash were talking.
"He got away?" Kallun asked when the skinny man
approached.
Janus shook his head. "They think he went up with the flyer
he was attached to. But they'll doing a sweep of the area just in
case."
"To be on the safe side" Kallun said "I think that Vash and I
had better avail ourselves of that minor back door of yours."
Janus cringed dramatically.
"Not so loud." He put his finger to his lips. "With all this
law enforcement around here you never know who's listening."
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recreation. However the threat of attack from fighter squads and the
rain of proton charges that had fallen around the City in the early
years of the First War had driven the inhabitants to seek shelter in
the natural valleys the canyon afforded. Burying themselves
between the rocks they had at first built their industrial centres
there. Great factories churning out conventional weaponry for
ground assaults and human involved combat. These factories had
dominated the canyons well into the third century of war when
gargantuan orbital platforms superseded them in production quality
and quantity. Seizing the initiative, some bright spark in the Halls
had come up with idea of converting the great buildings into
temporary refugee housing for the flood of families that arrived on
Seerak every day, fleeing the war zones and lost colonies. The idea
had been implemented with considerable alacrity and millions of
human cast-offs had landed in those canyons. Efforts to make the
great buildings habitable resulted in the construction of thousands
of walkways, express ways and overhead passes leading from place
to place, from level to level and the nickname 'subs' had sprung up
to reflect the feelings of those more fortunate about the canyon
refugee camp.
The project was never reversed. From that time on the Subs
grew, like a cancer, throughout the canyon range. Refugees, with
little to offer and nowhere-else to go settled there. Communities
grew up out of the darkness and whole generations were born, lived
and died between those canyon walls. Microcultures formed class
structures. High level living, nearer to the clear air that blew across
the canyon top, became one of the many symbols of status a subber
could aspire to. From the Halls of Kabel's centre one could never
see the Subs, but always the dark haze of its existence hung in the
murky air north of the greater sprawl.
D'rethen rested now at about three-quarter depth. Some six
hundred metres below the canyon ridge and two hundred metres
above the old river bed, now long since dried, diverted and
replaced with the sludge of human defecation. He was not quite in
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the darkness where only the dead and dying walked, but he was
close to it, and the people that walked here survived like a rat
colony, pillaging from those above them, from one another, never
sure from one day to the next whether they would live to see the
next false dawn brought by the luminescence of lamps lining the
walls and stretching under and over the interpasses around them.
Soon enough he found the bridge he had been making his
way towards. The gully below was deep enough that most of its
bottom was obscured in darkness from the rails above. It would
seem to the casual on-looker as if this gully stretched down into
empty eternity. But any who paused long enough would smell its
lowest edges and sense that the only eternity present was the
boundless mortality of man. It was a smell that pierced the edges of
the soul and screamed at the mind to move on.
D'rethen filled his nostrils with the scent and knew that this
was the place of meeting. He had seen it, smelt it, experienced its
dark life in the otherness, just hours before. As he reached the edge
of one step he sprang once more and dropped into the silent
darkness. At the last moment he caught himself on an old iron
girder and swung into another crouch, silently listening. He could
sense the gully's other occupants watching him, their eyes well
adjusted to the darkness, deciding whether he was worth attacking
or avoiding. Just below him he could hear the scratching of Sub
rats, their pungent odour mixing with all the others around him in a
delicious cocktail of scents.
After a few moments he let his eyes change in the darkness,
augmenting his night-sight until the dim light of the bridges above
came down like flood lamps into the gully. He could now see the
figures crouched in the truncated ends of sewer-pipes and water
drains. Their tattered bodies cringing from the sheer power of his
life and energy. Here was a stranger unlike any other, and they
feared him.
The mud underfoot had hardly made a sound when he
dropped into it. He could see other figures moving around the field
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around his lips bleeding grey, amber and red beneath the dirt. "I
fought a good fight."
"And you lost."
"An abbey stands yet!" The Patriarch began to rock back
and forth, his head nodding comically. "We are not all gone. No not
all gone at all."
"It will be destroyed in the coming war." The shadow-
runner hissed, drawing a small katha from the folds of his robe.
The white knife shone in the darkness.
"You couldn't destroy it last time. The Seven Heads saved
us, the Kallshial stopped you! We won. We won. We won." The
old man accented each repeat of his words with a nod.
He was mad, D'rethen decided, and, still sneering, he struck
the old man across the head with the blunt end of his katha, careful
not to kill him as he did so. The folds of unconsciousness
enveloped the mind of his target and his power surged its
indignation within him. Pulling at the Patriarch's robes, the
shadow-runner tore apart the rotten cloth at the chest, exposing a
sea of sores and decay. The old Patriarch's chest was a musty
yellow and looked like it had been dead for days all ready.
Turning his katha in his hand, the figure closed his eyes and
reached into the blade, his mind becoming one with the Unknown
Steel, his conscious ebbing into the point of the white knife, a
single eye peering into the heart of a dying man. The blade faded
slightly from view.
Slowly the knife descended and the patriarch arched as the
pain pierced his unconscious state. The blade moved with his
anguish, anticipating his writhing, falling through his ribs and into
his heart with surgical skill. Still he did not die as the unreality of
the blade split his heart in two whilst the blood still flowed through
it. His muscles contracted and reacted to the poisoned surge.
The shadow runner could feel the pain giving the old man
awareness. An awareness that comes only in the thrall of near-
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Stepping back from the empty husk D'rethen threw back his
hood and took a blade in each hand. Chanting softly he raised his
own gaze to the levels above and, staring out at the darkness of the
Subs, he thrust the ends of each needle into his own eyes.
His body convulsed in pain for the briefest moment before
the power of the dead man stirred and swept through him in a tide
of pleasure.
Pulling the blades from his pupils, the decorated points left
no wound. Only a glow of green light behind his eyes gave any
indication of change in the killer's features as he switched on his
hood shield and pulled his katha from the target's chest.
He noticed the half-creatures that had begun to gather near
the scene and stepped back from the overhang dramatically.
"Come friends," He said, addressing the shadows, "I have
prepared for you a royal feast to stay your hunger for another day."
Pausing only to sheath his katha, D'rethen leapt to the
girders above him and began to ascend the Subs once more.
***
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The two of them had talked for several hours, going over
their assignments, sketching out plans and foreseeable obstacles,
hammering out ideas and ways to achieve their goals, working
from the information they had gathered from the info-chips. During
that time Kallun's respect for his new partner had grown
considerably. She was quick to adapt to his methods of planning
and action, and quicker to suggest whole avenues of action that he
hadn't considered. Her wit, skill and insight into a given situation
were remarkable. By the time they reached Kabel Station Seven
and transferred to a landing shuttle they had formed a reasonable
plan with achievable objectives that only needed the details the
Seven Heads team could provide before it was complete.
When they had descended from high orbit towards the blue-
green ball of Seerak - jewel in the Colest crown - Kallun had
happily admired the sheer scale of Kabel's sprawl across the great
western continent. The Eastern Peaks cut a swathe from north to
south across the continent and the great width of the Naluri river
was but a tiny twinkle of blue against the blanket of colours that
spilled out into space from the billions of buildings, houses and
homes that made up Colest's giant capital city. A personal flyer
took six hours to get from one side to the other, on foot, even with
the express-ways it would take months. The city had never set out
to be so large. In the beginning Kabel had simply been the Council
Chambers, Assembly Halls, several blocks of government
administration buildings, some commercial estates and homes for
the workers that provide for them. A few million people at them
most. Over the last few centuries the pull towards Kabel had forced
it to grow, consuming out-lying towns and cities as it went, until
now they were all but indistinguishable from one another. Kabel
proper was still known as the region housing the Government, the
greater mass of the sprawl holding on to their own city and town
names, but everyone living in amongst its rising blocks and
walkways knew that they were all a part of Kabel. The great and
indestructible Kabel.
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three people in the party, filing out of the chamber one by one. Rae,
who stood almost as tall as Kallun and was dressed in a
conservative, one-piece trouser suit, came through the hatch first.
She nodded curtly at Vash and Kallun who had stood to meet her
team.
"I apologise for the delay." Rae said, her voice cold. Kallun
doubted it was deliberate, but it was initially unnerving,
nonetheless.
Behind her, ducking through the entrance was Jacob.
Dressed plainly he was at least twenty centimetres taller than
Kallun with muscles bulging from every human limb. Most of his
upper torso had been destroyed in the burning wreckage of his
fighter. Just half of his face had survived in a reasonable state of
presentability, resembling that of an experienced street fighter. The
other half was a silver-white mask. The fact that he lived at all was
a tribute to the men that rebuilt him. And they had built him to be a
fighter. The prosthetics that had replaced his left arm and various
other parts of his body were faster and stronger than his own limbs
and occasionally protruded from parts of his clothing. He was a
figure from nightmare, and that fearsome sight was not made any
better when he smiled at Kallun and Vash.
"Aft'noon." He said simply and took a seat to the left of
Rae.
Sal was the smallest of the trio, her thin frame was lost in
baggy clothes and she looked like a delicate toy that could break at
any moment next to Jacob. Her face was little different, and it was
only the set of her eyes that made Kallun believe that much of her
apparent frailty was an act she put on so that she could merge into
the background of any given situation.
He was surprised and pleased when Sal smiled broadly and
extended her hand.
"Commander Josephs." Her voice was full of enthusiasm
and Kallun liked her immediately. "It's good to meet you sir."
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before he can take power that way and he can't get a unanimous
decision with such firm opposition."
"And he doesn't have time for a general election." Sal
added.
"Let's go beyond that, assuming he has a back-up plan."
Kallun stretched his thoughts, verbalising as he went. "If we can
stop him from removing the opposition from council what are his
alternatives?"
"Illegal seizure by force of arms." There was no emotion in
Rae voice as she spoke.
"Which would be a very logical explanation for his
mobilisation of the legions."
"But he would incite civil war that way and that would be
no use to him whatsoever." Rae dismissed the idea.
"Why?" Kallun didn't think that Irache was the kind of
person that would back down in the face of war.
"Irache doesn't want war. War doesn't suite his plans and
has never been a part of his agenda. He wants power, and he is wise
enough to know that absolute power can only be exercised in times
of peace and with the willing assent of the people. If he goes to war
he will remain at war for as long as even a fragment of pro-council
supporters remain. He has already had that once with the legacy of
the Hieran jihad. He doesn't want that again."
Vash made as if to disagree but then backed down, keeping
her thoughts to herself for now.
"So you think that seizure by force of arms is not an
option?" Kallun asked.
"No. But I think if he has to resort to that position he will
have alternatives other than a direct assault on Kabel available."
Rae face was becoming more and more animated. "You see
Irache's genius is his ability to plan ahead. His foresight is so
legendary there are some that say he has discovered a gateway to
the future in the otherness. But whatever he has, he anticipates
brilliantly and with plans that take you from behind or from the
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side, but never from the front. If he is forced to move with military
action he will have instituted plans to forestall the need for open
conflict. The way Irache works, that kind of battle will be over
before a shot is fired."
"In that case we need to know what it is that his foresight
has planned for us. Sal." Kallun turned on the locksmith who
jumped at her name. "I want listings of every priest assigned to
military installations throughout this sector. I want to know what
Priesthood Order they belong to, where they came from, years of
service, loyalty rating, the works. And I want it by tomorrow
morning."
Sal looked stunned for a moment and then agreed. She
would probably have to stay up all night to get the information
Kallun required but the limits on time they shared demanded
nothing less.
"Anything else?" Kallun was asking himself more than
anyone else and was surprised when Jacob answered.
"You may want to visit Irache's Communion Chamber."
Jacob said frowning.
Rae turned on him.
"His what?" she asked. Evidently this was the first Rae had
heard of such a place.
"I didn't get chance to report it yet." Jacob shrugged. "Last
night I was assigned to Irache's personal Tricend. I jumped at the
chance to be one of the Holy Three and guard the Patriarch.
Anyway, following his worship to his quarters he took us down a
passage and stopped outside this Communion Chamber, at least
that was what Irache called it. The Patriarch wanted to talk with a
shadow-runner there, may have been D'rethen, I don't know. They
were talking too low to hear, but the two seemed to disagree on
something. At one point the shadow-runner pointed at the
Communion Chamber and raised his head slightly, enough that I
caught a couple of words. Well one word really. "Dragonsfire". I
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her entrance examinations. The two of them had only flown as far
as Nialorin when Vash first heard the noise. With her vision of the
wealthy suburb north of the Naluri river augmented by her
othersight the noise had come as such a surprise that she had almost
been wrenched back into her body in the Tabernacle. Only
Bethwin's quick thinking had stopped her from endangering herself
so.
Every psi produced some noise when they moved in the
otherness. It was merely the eddies of disturbed thought-space
rippling out like waves on a still lake. Mostly it was a quiet
sensation, hardly a noise at all when the passing of another psi was
felt, but here in Kabel the work of thousands of psi's dipping in and
out of the otherness at will had stirred thought space into a raging
torrent of noise. As a child Vash had feared that the noise would
tear her other-self apart, so powerful was the sensation. But in time,
with the careful tutoring of Bethwin and then, after her acceptance
into the Gimnian novitiate and through her own experimentation,
she had learnt to let the noise pass her by, slipping between the
waves and taking a firm grasp on the more solid thought patterns
around her. The technique limited the distance of her other-sight,
but it kept her sane, as it must have preserved the thousands of
other psi's that wandered that realm. And yet still, all these years
later, the noise was still the first thing Vash felt in the otherness.
Following the meeting of the previous evening the Seven
Head's team had gone their separate ways, returning to their duties
following the meeting. Kallun and Vash had returned to Giants
Point and assumed their cover roles for the first stage of their
mission. Travelling as Virek and Radullaš Dorallus they had taken
a public shuttle to the Great Halls early in the morning and checked
in at the Tabernacle, the large, domed building east of the Great
Hall's themselves. Parts of the building provided visiting Priests
and dignitaries shelter and it was to there that they were directed.
Upon reaching their room they had chance to examine the luggage
that had been amply provided by Rae. Kallun had been dismayed to
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ago. The experience was much the same as it had been six years
before when she had last probed the otherness with her body
resting in the grounds of the Great Halls.
Thoughts of her novitiate had invaded her thinking several
times during the last day or two. Knowing that she was returning to
the training grounds of her youth had disturbed her deeply. The
child in Vash had never quite forgiven either Bethwin or her family
for leaving her alone in the Great Halls under the rigorous tutorlige
of the novitiate Deacons. She had been worked like she had never
worked before and whilst those around her had formed bonds of
friendship and kinship with other noviciates, her natural power and
excellence in class had branded her an outcast and she was neither
befriended by her classmates or cared for by her tutors. There had
been one tutor that had guided her through the first two years of the
novitiate. But that beloved mentor had been reassigned to the
missions just before her thirteenth birthday. Somehow, through
experiences that had taught her life as she had never seen it before,
she had carried on.
She was fifteen when she had come to the conclusion that
she no longer cared for the novitiate. It was not that she ever
stopped believing in the teachings of the prophets, or in the divine
care of Erran and his Holy Angels. What she stopped believing was
that the Church was run under that same divine direction. She had
finally learnt of the Heresy only a few months before, and the
discovery that a fifth order of the Priesthood - Hiera - had been all
but wiped out by the Heresy shook her faith like nothing had ever
done before. For weeks she had tried to find an explanation for the
deeds of Gaera, but the more she searched, the more she found, and
it was not evidence that favoured the present Patriarchal order.
From that time on she had determined to always refer to the body
of the Church as the Heresy, for to her the Church had been lost
with that Heresy never to return and its novitiate was meaning less.
Her dissatisfaction had become quickly evident to her tutors
as her results deteriorated. Her only joy in those dark days had been
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But after a while she had realised that many of the passages open
before her referred to the "last days" and "the final dispensation of
the Captivity of the Dragon" which were both terms synonymous
with the coming of Geddinan, and the eternal reign of Erran in the
seas of Heaven (or the eternal reign of the Dragon, depending on
whose side you believed) - an event the Priesthood believed would
come soon and was often excited about. It was in that section that
she had come across the passage that had given her the hope she
had not dreamed to discover. It was in the fourth chapter, twelfth
and thirteenth verses:
"In Mirr there shall be heard the voice of weeping, the
crying of the mother for her beloved children. For they have all
gone astray, nation against nation and Priesthood against
Priesthood. In a time when peace should reign, my children, my
Priests and Elders have sought war one with another and have
reaped destruction to the uttermost part of Hiera.
Wherefore, shall salvation for my Priesthood be found in
the bowels of the earth, in the heart of the otherness, beyond the
gateway which leads to the Dragon. And out of the mouth of
soldiers will come the power of restoration, the Kallshial shall
come and the sweet bread that shall give my people Hiera life shall
be given by them, and restore them to that which they have lost."
She had read once, feeling a welling excitement in her
heart. A second time she read, her spirit glowing suddenly with the
force of those feelings and a burning deep inside. They were
essentially obscure verses, and yet they contained the answers she
had been seeking for so many months. To her there came a crystal
clarity that defied disbelief. For the Priesthood had warred against
itself in these last years and the destruction of Hiera was almost
complete. But the scripture said that there was hope, that through
powers in the otherness and the work of soldiers there could be a
restoration.
Her excitement had so enlivened her spirit that she lost
control of her shielding and was forced to flee when the partially
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talented elder sensed her presence. But she had returned to her
body with a determination that had borne her up since that day. She
had thanked Erran with all her heart that night and then made plans
for her escape. If salvation was to come through soldiers, then she
was going to join the military and be a part of it.
In the days since that time she had achieved her many of her
goals, passing through the years of training required to reach the
level of intelligence work she was presently at. It seemed ironic to
her that her second mission should bring her straight back to where
she started, in a room in the tabernacle surrounded by the Heresy in
all its glory. All it's corruption. And yet there was sense to it. It felt
right and Vash had learnt to rely on such feelings as on nothing
else.
She had flown out of her body towards Kabel purposefully
probing the twisting, noisy otherness that wove through it's endless
streets and towers. The city below her hummed with the
movements of other psi's, hugging closer to the ground, lacking the
range and power she possessed in that realm. Sometimes residential
blocks seemed kilometres blow her, other times risers stretched into
the sky close enough to touch. It had changed little in her time
away. Here and there the remnants of old gateways, now useless,
stirred around her. She would go and investigate from time to time
nonetheless. An old gateway was still a gateway despite its useless
nature.
Presently she hovered by one such gate high above the city,
about sixty kilometres north of Biodrome. It swirled gently in the
currents of the otherness, a blue white vortex, its centre dark,
flashing with occasional bursts of light. Vash had often wondered
what it was like to go through a gateway. Having never been taught
how, she had never tried, there were too many dangers, particularly
if it was an uncharted gate. You could end up in realms of thought
far beyond the otherness with no way of returning to your body.
There were also gateways known to lead nowhere, into which a
mind would slip only to be scattered out into the universe, killing
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the holo Andreas had shown Kallun and herself. He had paid her
little attention then, more interested in his former friends from psi-
ops. It had been about six months before and Vash presumed that
he must have been just as embroiled in the Seven Heads of the
Wind then as he was now.
Searching Kabel's principle districts she could find little
sign of him or even of his passing. She had been sure she would
trace his other-self in or around Kabel. The likeliest place to find
him would have been in the Great Halls themselves, but there were
many dangers in riding the otherness around the Halls now. The
Heresy had stepped up activity in that region immensely. The
thought space around the Halls was crowded and there were
gateways gathering nearby for who knows what purpose. There
were also rumoured to be new creatures in the otherness, things no
man had encountered before, but Vash thought that may have been
the result of city-psi's with over active imaginations about Church
goings on. However, she was no longer a novice, her power shone
despite her attempts to hide it from fellow priests and activities in
the otherness there would have to be conducted with the utmost
care. If she was unable to find D'rethen in Kabel, she would have to
try the Halls, but Vash was putting that off until she had exhausted
the areas in and around Kabel.
Flying north once more Vash approached the canyons of the
Subs. There was a darkness about the subs even in the otherness.
The compact effect of so much sorrow disturbed even that realm
and Vash had often shied away from its sickly gloom. She hovered
at the edge of the canyon, where the tops of high level building
peered up at the evening twilight catching the last rays of the
setting sun on the tower tops. She was about to turn away when the
faintest stir, deep below her alerted her to the approach of another
talent.
Searching about her she dove for cover in the upper levels
of a nearby building, The floor was a residential block and the
occupants, a couple in their late seventies were playing simm-
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along the length of his spirit body. To mortal minds the sight would
appear beautiful, the colours of a human being augmented for
display in the otherness. With the right training, Vash had once
heard, you could even read those colours and interpret the thoughts
that lay beyond them just by looking at them. It sounded a lot more
comfortable than projecting your own presence into someone else's
mind.
At length D'rethen turned and faced the building Vash was
hiding in.
"Has anybody ever told you that you radiate power like
bonfire at midnight?" D'rethen asked pointedly. For a moment
Vash was unsure how to respond, fearful that she had been seen so
easily. "Look, I can't talk to you whilst your hiding in that block, so
I'd appreciate it if you would come out here and talk."
Vash came out of the building, changing her shape to her
natural self as she did so. Gliding slowly towards him she stopped
just a couple of metres away from the waiting assassin.
"Better." D'rethen said, his dark eyes staring at her. "So?"
He spread his hands and waited for her to speak.
"So, what?" Vash asked, confused by such strange
beginnings.
"You came searching for me, I presume there was a
reason."
Vash noticed that when he spoke, his eyes stared, like lasers
cutting open your soul.
"Who was that?" Vash nodded in the direction the robed
figure had gone.
"A Guardian. He guards one of the lesser gates above the
Ur." Vash had heard of such phenomena, they were new to
otherness and she was unsure what they meant.
"Why would you meet with a Guardian?"
"We had business." D'rethen was aware of the arousal of
Vash's suspicions and explained. "I am personal aide to Irache," he
explained. "Sometimes I conduct business in the otherness when he
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"That's it?" Vash said, not believing that a man of his power
knew so little.
"That's it. Irache keeps everything political to himself and
makes no excuses for his exercises in the otherness. Why should
he?" D'rethen turned and looked at the sky. "Your name is Vash
isn't it?"
Vash nodded.
"Then, Vash, the Heresy dabbles in many strange arts that
ordinary people fear. But people like you and I rise above such
fears to embrace things that can only benefit the pathetic hordes
that team below us. I must go. If I need you I know where are, but
don't come looking for me again like that."
With that he gathered his will and accelerated away from
Vash into the evening sky faster than she could follow. His passing
left thick waves in the otherness that Vash rode easily. For a few
moments she stood there, hovering on the edge of the subs as the
last light of day faded to nothing.
Slowly she moved away. Letting her spirit ride the currents
of the otherness gently and easing the noise of Kabel from her
consciousness, she gathered her thoughts and ran through her
conversation carefully. As she thought, she realised slowly that
D'rethen's awkwardness had masterfully avoided answering any of
the questions she had come to ask. He had offered her nothing,
except vague excuses which, when they came from his mouth, had
sounded quite logical.
Thinking on D'rethen himself, his thought patterns as she
had seen them were still that of a killer and there was the stain of
recent death on his spirit. She shuddered to think what kind of
business he had been conducting in the subs for Irache. A shadow-
runner's business was never pleasant, particularly for the person on
the receiving end of that business. He was a dark soul, and Vash's
initial dislike of him, formed at their first meeting months before
had only been strengthened by their meeting this evening.
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"They marvel and say that the day is not yet at hand. All is
well for the world is at peace. The Kallshial is not seen when he
walks amongst the children of the chosen, and they fear him not for
they know him not, neither the power that travels with him." -
Extract from the Book of Esiath the Outcast. Chapter 62, verse 63.
(From the Library Hall of Hiera IV).
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Kallun scooped up the little book and picked out lines at random.
"Things like this 'spirit matter' and 'intelligence influence' and
'temporal attachments' and a whole bunch of other terms that mean
absolutely nothing to me. This was not on the bio-chip database!"
"You never passed through the Noviciate." she shrugged,
and then mischievously added. "But perhaps this humble maid
servant could enlighten you?"
"Maid servant, yes. Humble, I don't think so."
"And how would you know?" Vash challenged.
"It doesn't need a psi to figure a stubborn soul when one
happens along."
"Now there's lasers calling light hot for you," she said.
"And don't confuse stubborn with proud."
"So you admit that you're stubborn?"
"What ever gave you that idea?"
"The fact that you never stop at any task until you get what
you want." Kallun smiled. "I didn't say that it was a bad thing."
Vash laughed inwardly. Her mother had accused her of
something similar as a child. She always did get what she wanted.
Most people never saw it until too late, but, after just over a week
of work together, Kallun had seen right into her. She smiled. And
conceded. "Maybe." When Kallun looked like he was waiting for
more she changed the subject and indicated the discarded book.
"Now, do you want to avail yourself of my abilities or not?"
"After barely a week together?" Kallun said, his face
absolutely straight. "And there was me taking you for a clean living
woman."
It took Vash a moment or two too realise that the
Commander was joking. In that time enough expressions crossed
her face that Kallun couldn't keep his own straight for long. A low
rolling belly laugh cut short her blushing embarrassment. Vash was
surprised at his laugh. She hadn't heard it properly before. It was
rich and broad, and came out in an undulating bass.
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She wanted to hear more, but instead she hit his arm
playfully and swore at him. Silently, though, she smiled. It was a
start.
Kallun realised she was waiting for him to stop chuckling
and controlled his breathing.
"All right," he said. "You may share your wisdom on these
most puzzling of terms." He indicated the discarded book and sat
back
Vash breathed in and tried to come up with a simple
explanation. She had read the book a few months back and ran the
introduction through her mind.
"I think what he is trying to say is, that if you are going to
understand anything of the otherness then you must understand the
forms we take in all the realms of our existence." She checked to
see if Kallun was listening. The laughter lines had gone and he was
frowning at her now, which she decided meant that he was.
"According to the Book of Kiminuci we have three shells of
existence which determine our state of reality. The first and most
basic of these shells is called Intelligence. The matter that makes up
Intelligence is the finest matter of all our existence, it is eternal and
unchangeable, it was before we were born and will be until the
uttermost reaches of time without end. Imagine it like a ball of
light, upon which our thoughts, our hopes, our dreams and our very
being is imprinted and shining.
"On top of that matter is laid the coarser and thicker form of
our spirits. This second shell is the creation of Erran and it gives us
much of what we are physically and genetically. This is matter
controlled by our intelligence, it is in harmony with the otherness
and, unlike intelligence matter, its form is fine enough to be
controlled by our thoughts, making it mutable, enabling us to
disguise who we are when necessary and take other shapes.
"Finally, through birth, our spirits take upon them our
mortal bodies, which we keep for a time and in which we prove our
worth to become one with the Chosen. This mortal body is in the
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adult image of our spirit bodies when Erran created them, but
unlike our spirit bodies it moulds to our thoughts slowly and over
periods of many decades. This is the thickest and most coarse of all
matter, for it is temporal, and the bonds it forms are constantly in
flux. This form can exist only in a temporal universe, the one
which all mankind see hear and feel whilst in this mortal frame at
the exclusion of the understanding of the other forms which exist
within us." Vash shrugged. "Had it not been for the prayer of Aniaš
we would all have remained so. However since his prayer Erran has
yearly blessed a few children with the golden thread. A cord that
frees the spirit to wander in the otherness whilst the body yet lives."
"A cord?" Kallun shook his head impatiently.
"It's a concept more than an actual device, there really is no
such thing accessibly formed in the otherness. And don't interrupt
me." She chided him and he waited for her to go on. "The gift of
the golden thread allows the human spirit to shuffle off the mortal
body and enter the otherness, the realm of thought that is so closely
attached to the mortal world that sometimes it is difficult to know
where one begins and other ends. Theologically speaking, of
course."
"Of course." Kallun was being sarcastic.
"Do you want to understand or not?" She said archly and he
sat up in the classic posture of the attentive student. "Good. Now
stay that way.
"In the otherness both spirit and intelligence may be 'seen'
and 'heard' - although that in itself is merely the method mortal
minds use to interpret the experience - but it is principally a realm
of spirit and intelligence, the intelligence showing in thought
patterns that ripple across the spirit body. That was one thing
morphe-space didn't imitate." She added the last sentence almost as
an after thought.
"But doesn't that make it like dying?" Kallun frowned. "I
was taught as a child that death was merely the spirit leaving the
body."
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"It is." Vash said. "And the only way to do so without the
Golden Thread, is to die. But in true death, the spirit immediately
seeks the White Gate which leads to Paradise or Prison according
to the worth of the soul. The time spent in the otherness in that
passing is so small as to be imperceptible."
Kallun ran his hand through his hair and stared at the bed.
"Do you understand now." Vash asked.
"Some." He smiled. "The rest I'll just have to bluff." He
wrestled with his thoughts for a moment before fixing Vash with
one of his piercing stares. "What is the Kalshial?"
Vash sat back. The question caught her by surprise.
"You'd be better to ask who is the Kalshial. He is a figure
that precedes Gedinnan, 'the warrior who is to come' the scriptures
call him, a soldier of sorts and the redemption of Hiera. Why do
you ask?"
He shook his head. "A dream. It doesn't matter. Are you
going out in the otherness again?" Kallun changed the subject.
Vash shook her head. "I'd like to come with you, when you
go and meet Sal. I think I should be there rather than trying to
follow you from the otherness. I couldn't last much longer than an
hour or two out there without losing some control anyway, I'm
beat. My powers are getting stretched and I still don't think they've
recovered fully from the Dragonsfire."
"Well lets hope that nobody comes prying on us with too
much determination."
"They shouldn't do. Once we get past the Sentinel's nobody
else really takes an interest and I doubt our friend D'rethen will be
out hunting tonight. He'd already used his talent pretty heavily
when I met him earlier."
Vash had told Kallun of her visit and subsequent visitation
in the otherness. He hadn't really been able to connect the two
events in the otherness with more than just the surface elements of
things happening in the 'real world' as he persisted in calling it. He
was, however intrigued by D'rethen's evasive nature and claim of
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***
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that novices of Gaera and Seira were taught there and the visitors
staying in rooms nearest to the Halls were those of a non-priestly
nature, often visiting dignitaries from council protectorates and
important business men with enough money and prestige to get so
near that most holy of places.
Broad paths of stone led from the Tabernacle and the
Assembly Dome to the Great Halls. It was on one of those blustery
paths that Kallun and Vash were walking.
The night was dark and clouds billowed overhead at speed.
The wind whipped their black robes about them, it's fingers' icy and
chill. The two of them had put black robes on over their combat
suits to avoid unnecessary attention during their journey from the
Tabernacle through the Halls and merged with night as they
walked. The robes were not conventional attire but were acceptable
amongst some factions of the priesthood. For the benefit of the
sensors recessed in the White Gate Kallun had his sub-dermal set to
emit the bio-signals of Virek Durallus. Vash was transmitting as
Kishuri, the Gimnian priestess and Kallun admitted that she held
her role better than he did his. If he was ever forced into religious
discussion he would be exposed in under a minute.
As they walked the broad grey path from the tabernacle the
five towers of the Great Halls loomed high above them, stretching
towards the clouds and threatening to tare them apart. Most of the
Halls were only partially lit now, a few librarians and clerics still
hard at work, whilst the rest of the priesthood prepared for bed. It
was one of those librarians they were going to see now. Kallun
hoped that she would be well alone by the time they reached her.
"Why are they called halls?" Kallun asked when they were
out of earshot of the Tabernacle and still a good ways from the
huge white towers. Vash looked at him as if she wasn't quite sure
what he meant. "The two areas big enough to be called great halls
are in the Tabernacle and Assembly Dome, so why call the Great
Halls, 'halls' at all?"
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struggled to recall the number, surprised that part of his mind was
resisting his recollection.
Kallun shook his head and brushed his persistent
discomfiture aside. It was not time to get queasy, although he had
not felt this way on an operation since the earliest days of the last
war. He always felt the quickening of the blood, the heightened
awareness and the familiar sensation of anticipation and healthy
fear in his belly. But this, this was like a fog blurring his mind,
dulling instead of sharpening his perceptions. He would have to run
a field bio when he got back and check for problems.
The library, like the white gate was guarded by a sensor
ring and a single bored and sleepy sentinel. The sentinel was a
small man, rotund and unlikely to pose a physical threat to anyone
over ten years old. He seemed to be dozing when they arrived, but
opened one eye to give them a once over before waving them
through without even asking them to sign in.
A wide circular room, the library had a single, broad,
domed roof, in which words were inscribed in broad lettering
around the edge. It was in the tongue of the originators but in the
dim light Kallun did not attempt to translate it. Two quorums high,
the next level up looked down onto the main floor of the library
from a single balcony that ran its entire circumference. There the
booths were a little more luxurious and carpets a little thicker.
Designed for the elders and high priests whose studies were
conducted on that level of the library.
Moving on past rows and rows of interactive booths they
headed straight for the central dais, an area that was raised slightly
from the main floor and roofed to avoid being viewed from above.
As they walked Kallun could hear his footsteps echo loudly, the
sound strangely distorted by the dome above them. He resisted the
pressing urge to bolt from the place, but felt his breathing was
become laboured with the effort.
A second sentinel sat inside the entrance to the dais. A sign
was displayed by the gate informing library users and visitors that
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access to the dais was reserved for library personnel only. The
sentinel watched their approach warily. Taking in their black robes
and purposeful stride. There seemed to be no one else in the library
except themselves and the attention further increased Kallun's
discomfort.
"Gimnia adjri. Tem na lištená?" the sentinel said from
where he sat. His words felt incredibly loud in such a quiet place.
Greetings of Gimnia. Can I help you? Kallun translated
with his limited knowledge of the language of the originators. The
sentinel looked at them expectantly, awaiting an answer.
"Gimnia a Valcona adjri." Vash replied. Indicating which
priesthood orders they approached from. Kallun caught the small
eye movement that suggested the sentinel was confirming the
identities extracted by his sensor ring with his network link. "We
have been invited to view the research of Sallah Ri-Tayal. She is
within a booth, I believe?" Vash spoke in Drioran.
"She is. If you would hold on a moment." The sentinel
touched a pad on his display top. After a moment he nodded and
motioned them inside. "Three booths in she is in the second on the
right. Please do not attempt to access any of the terminals
personally as you will set off the alarms." He nodded pleasantly
and then moved inside the dais enclosure. It was much darker
inside than the library as a whole. Kallun fingered his blaster inside
his robe nervously.
Three booths in they turned right into a shorter row. From
the second booth on the right light spilled out onto the floor and
illuminated the partition walls of the terminal behind. The booths
weren't much to speak of. Simply three walls that enclosed the
occupant whilst they worked through the central library system.
The desk of each booth was covered by a broad holo-plate on
which the occupant could work if they were not personally hooked
into the AI web.
Sal was sat with her back to them, her hands making short,
efficient movements over the holo-plate, her eyes staring into the
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***
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and the lines of the pillars, arcs and buttresses were riddled with
light-strips that had once been controlled by a panel behind the
mercy seat. Irache, however, preferred the old fashioned way of
lighting the hall and had ordered the torch brackets of the chamber
walls refurbished and filled with holographic copies of those crude
devices. As D'rethen crossed the chamber floor, his footsteps
echoing slightly in the arches of the ceiling, the false torches
burned low making the chamber dim and enhancing its ancient feel.
In front of him, sitting straight in the Mercy Seat, Irache
was robed in the royal blue of the High Patriarch. His wiry frame
and lined face was hardly visible in the light. It took D'rethen less
than a moment to realise that a second person stood by the Mercy
Seat, watching his arrival. It was woman, taller than D'rethen in a
one-piece utility suit, the kind worn by most space-faring
freeloaders. It had a single patch on the arm shaped in the death's
head pattern. The patch meant only one thing, she was a pirate, and
a pirate bold enough to wear her colours in the heart of the Colest.
Her hair was cut short and her eyes, hidden by the shadows
bored into him with dangerous intensity. He returned the stare with
equal contempt before arriving at the foot of the raised seat and
bowing deeply.
"To serve is to live, Draco-Padech." D'rethen rolled the
greeting around in his mouth. With his mind he verbalised his
displeasure at the new arrival. Who is the woman?
Irache leaned forward, his pallid features catching the dim
light.
Be careful Magi. This one is not be trifled with. Irache
spoke the words directly into D'rethen's soul and even the shadow-
runner shivered at the touch. Irache had been spending more and
more time in his communion chamber, travelling beyond the gates
and his soul touch was as cold as the space beyond.
Out loud the Patriarch said. "Welcome, my friend. Your
prompt response is ever a pleasure to my ageing heart."
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Close up, Irache could have been any ageing priest of the
five orders. He had no prominent features, except that he was
somewhat thin and gave the impression of perpetual malnutrition.
His eyes, that had once been a piercing black, were now coloured
with age, fading into the general lack of colour that was the hall
mark of Irache's age. D'rethen guessed that Irache was well over
the sesquicentennial mark. But experience had taught the shadow
runner not to be taken in by Irache's frail form. The man had a
powerful mind and an even more powerful talent. His skills in the
otherness were unmatched and his travels beyond the gates the
substance of legends. D'rethen always trod carefully in his
presence. He inclined his head.
"How may I be of service?" D'rethen said.
"I desire your report on the so-called Kalshial." Irache
curled his lips when he spoke. "Have we discovered who he is
yet?"
"I have researchers in all the libraries of the Great Halls and
more in the remaining Abbey strongholds compiling data on him."
"Not enough." Irache said as a matter fact.
"I have also sent three of my most skilled legionaries to
search the gates for more information. If they return alive I will
report their findings as soon as they come in." That seemed to
comfort Irache more.
Ever since his last trip through the gate, after the death of
Patriarch Bilovik at Irache's hands earlier that day, he had been
utterly preoccupied by the legendary Kalshial. "I will run the
library data through my own AI as we get it all in. I should have
the report ready by the morning."
"Good." Irache nodded gently. "My master, fears the
Kalshial. When I told him that Bilovik believed the Kalshial saved
them at Hiera IV he shuddered and bade me repeat the tale. He is,
shall we say, sore afraid."
D'rethen listened intently. It was not often Irache spoke of
his master. The old man kept the gate through which he travelled to
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***
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***
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achieving its end. And now her first concern was stopping that
same watcher from getting what it had learnt back to its people.
Already Vash had blocked several attempts to raise the
alarm. Now it was dodging through the otherness, racing along the
maze of corridors, passageways and chambers that could be found
throughout the Great Halls. It was desperately trying to shake her,
but without success.
It amazed Vash at how much she was succeeding in her
endeavours. She had been trained for pursuit and capture in this
realm but had never actually had to use the skill. Now it came as a
jolt to her senses that she had been thrust into this pursuit without a
moment's preparation. She knew she would have to stop this
watcher or the whole mission could be thwarted before it had even
begun.
The watcher was fleeing madly now. Vash could almost
smell its fear as it realised there would be no escape this way
Suddenly they found themselves in the open space of the Valcon
library. The watcher tried to flee to the doomed roof but Vash sent
a bolt of raw power exploding out into the watcher's path and
forced it to turn. In such an open space there was nowhere to run.
The watcher turned. To Vash's surprise the face was that of
a woman, her eyes white with a combination of hate and fear.
"You dare to stop me!" The woman roared.
"Because I must." Vash said simply. Her heart quickened as
reality settled into her mind. The woman before her would kill
rather than be captured. The hate was all to apparent, her
intelligence swarmed with it. Vash had never been forced into face
to face combat before either. She had expected more training
before a real psi-op, more experience in mock combat at Alpha
Camp. More of something.
"Then, Draco-nach, die!" The sword, shield and armour
appeared so quickly that Vash barely had time raise her defences.
Her sword, half-formed was flung up in a desperate defence, and
the battle began in earnest.
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guard and turning her sword again before the woman had time to
try and cut through the blow and into Vash.
Using weight of her body Vash slammed her shield into
watcher woman's and rammed its edge into her opponents chin.
Stunned, the woman stumbled and Vash hit her across the face with
the hilt of her sword.
It was a risk. But the surprise of such brutal close quarter
technique from a long sword wielder was enough to throw the
woman off-guard. Sufficient that she did not think to use her short
sword advantage before Vash jumped back a step and raised her
sword arm again.
The hail of blows that followed crashed like a storm upon
the woman's faltering defence.
The watcher tried to regain the advantage by pressing
towards Vash's shield arm. She dropped her sword to attempt a
thrust under Vash's shield. The gap was only momentary. But it
was enough for Vash to bring her sword to bear on the woman's
neck.
The blade sliced into the joint between her shoulder and
neck, stopping mid-way into the watcher's chest.
There was no drama, no scream of pain, no convulsing
form. The woman eyes went distant and she dropped, dead before
she fell. The momentum of her thrust carried her spirit form to
Vash's feet but no further.
A sudden surge of power coursed up Vash's sword and
enveloped her as the woman's body fragmented in a rainbow storm
of light. The thrill of the kill wrapped around her heart like the
most exquisite drug and filled her mind with glorious power.
The sensation faded slowly, until with a shock Vash
realised that other spirits would come to investigate the rupture in
the otherness her kill had just created. Shielding her mind as best
she could she raced back to her body in the Gimnian library.
***
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headed off in the direction he hoped Halla Gaera would be. He had
to wrap his left arm around Vash to touch the middle finger of his
right hand to his wrist. The combat display appeared in his field of
vision and he mentally laid a map of the Hall's over it. Using his
sub-dermal was a risk, it meant turning off his false identity field.
Any scanners would pick up his true bio immediately. But without
a guide in the twisting passages of the Great Halls he would be lost
within minutes, or worse. The display calculated the quickest route
to level one of the Presidency in Halla Gaera. He doubted that
those tracking him would expect him to head right for the heart of
the Heresy with an injured colleague and took the risk of using the
most direct route.
He would have to pass right through Halla Seira, the official
home of the leaders of the Seiron Legions. There would be more
than one shadow-runner residing in the dormitories that dominated
the rim of the first three quorums. Kallun simply hoped that they
were not out and about and plying their trade in the Great Hall's
themselves.
Reaching the first wall between Halla Gimni and Halla
Seira Kallun pulled a small sensor clip from a pouch on the chest of
his combat suit. The clip moulded to the back of his wrist
comfortably and patched into his sub-dermal. In his field of vision
a small grid of red and blue lines appeared. Dots of varying
brightness were laid onto that grid. Most of them remained static,
priests studying in their cells behind him. Thermal images
shimmered faintly up ahead and Kallun took stock of the potential
threat. It seemed minimal, for now.
The sensor patch had a limited range of about ten metres,
but it had saved his life in similar circumstances more times than
Kallun cared to remember. In the dim light of the passage it would
be hardly noticeably next to his black robe.
Vash was getting weaker with each step, her attempts to
support her own weight faltering more often. Kallun lingered for no
more than a second. Time enough for the sensor patch to calibrate
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when he had stopped. He walked a few steps noting that the blip
moved with him. He was being followed.
Moving again he turned into an intersecting passage way,
running to it's end and then doubling back on himself as if he had
changed his mind. Watching the blip he saw it scurry back the way
it had come when it realised he had changed direction. At the next
turn he dived into a deep doorway, laying Vash in the hollow
created by the reassessed stone.
He flicked on a field disrupter at his belt. Immediately all
his artificial readout disappeared from sight, blinding both his own
sensors and that of the person following him. Presuming they were
using electronic sensors. The figure rounded the corner cautiously
peering into the darkness. It was robed, in much the same black
robes Kallun and Vash were wearing. The kind that could hide any
manner of equipment beneath it. Smaller than Kallun, but with firm
shoulders the head made a shape in the hood that indicated a lot of
hair wrapped up beneath it. The figure did not seem to be a
physical threat but Kallun took no chances.
Coiling his muscles like a spring he pounced on his pursuer.
Catching the figure in the midriff he was surprised at how thin it's
waist was. Crashing against the far wall of the passage he yanked
the strange follower to the floor and had a blaster at its head before
there was even a moan.
"Sweat Erran, you're fast." The figure's hood fell back as it
spoke. It was a woman, her silver-white hair gathered and tied up,
her face strong featured with a small nose and piercing green eyes.
Her skin was smooth but Kallun guessed she was older than
himself. Something about her voice, however was familiar. He
didn't move the blaster when she smiled at him.
"I knew I should have tried the subtle approach." she said
then did her best to shrug. "Actually that was as subtle as I could
manage."
"Who are you?" he said, sure now that he new her voice.
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a warning grid in orbit around the planet to alert the local fleet
station of any further raids.
That mission had almost destroyed his career when the
church later claimed that the attacking vessels had not been
attacking at all but had been loaded with missionaries and supplies
for the independent colony. No one in the military believed their
claim. Missionaries did not come at a planet with concussion
bombs and phasic blasters. Missionaries did not launch armoured
assault vehicles at the surface. Kallun had sworn it was the legions,
but no-one could ever confirm that, for the legions were officially
inactive at the time. Most of the details surrounding the incident
had been covered up and no other attempts had been made on the
colony at Hiera IV.
"What are you doing here?" Kallun asked. Finally moving
his blaster away from the woman's head and letting her stand up.
"Helping you..." Aliara straightened her robe and then
moved to where Vash lay. ". to help her." She laid her palm on
Vash's forehead and closed her eyes briefly. "She has about an hour
before she loses her power and her mind. Come, we must get her
back to my dorm."
Gathering Vash up in his arms, Kallun followed the
mysterious woman back the way they had come. They descended
to the twelfth quorum again until they found a small room packed
full of books. It smelt of old leather and dust and Kallun looked
around for any sign of a way through the room as Aliara locked the
door behind them.
Sensing his confusion Aliara explained.
"It's a study cell." she said moving across to the other side
of the room. "A very old study cell." Moving to the edge of one
bookcase, to the left of the desk that occupied the centre of the
room, Aliara pressed her hand against the side of the casing and
whispered words Kallun could not understand. The wall to the right
of the bookcase suddenly fell back to reveal steps descending down
into pitch black. Following Aliara carefully down the steps he
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heard the secret door grate shut behind him. His sensors went dead
immediately and he was glad when the older woman lit a light
globe in her hand and led them in a roughly easterly direction.
"I thought that these places were just a myth." Kallun said,
recalling stories of ancient passage ways created by the priesthood
throughout the Great Halls.
"All myth has its element of truth." Aliara replied.
"But how did you know they were here." he asked, trying to
understand who he was entrusting both his life and Vash's to.
"All secrets have their guardians." she replied with a smile
and flick of her eyebrows.
In later times when Kallun remembered Aliara, he would
remember that most of all she loved to answer direct questions with
cryptic clues. She was as skilled with words as he was with blasters
and spacecraft. But tonight, as they travelled the first of many
journeys together, it played on Kallun's sensibilities. He want an
assurance that Vash would be safe in this woman's arms, but most
of all he wanted to find out more about why she had risked her life
to help his. But he could not bring himself to ask more than a few
questions and he was glad when they emerged from the depths of
the Great Halls into a pleasantly spacious room a few minutes later.
***
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***
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it was not the type of weapon that was much good against a
shielded combat suit.
The two of them stepped into the quiet room together,
moving slowly, eyes watching the walls. With surprising grace,
Jacob suddenly spun to the right and Kallun saw the tell-tale flicker
of light from the end of his blaster. A tiny pod just above the line of
the tapestries popped like ripe grain. Robotic gun pods? Kallun
tried to find others above the tapestries to see if he was right. Such
items were antiques. These days a floor field or laser gird served
the same purpose with ten times the efficiency. Nevertheless, he
kept his eyes peeled for signs of movement and made his own steps
as silent as possible. A gun pod's sight would be impaired by the
darkness, but the sound sensors would be cranked up to
compensate. Such devices, as Kallun had been often reminded at
base, fired shells that cut through a combat suit's shields like ice
through water. His shields were energy repellents and Kallun didn't
even want to think about the mess they would make of him if one
of those pods got off a lucky shot.
Another flash from Jacob's silent gun drew Kallun's eyes to
the left. A second pod burst. Step by step they crept across the
carpet of the well. Jacob took out six pods in all before they were
able to put a foot on the stairs. They was no rushing the process
even then, aware that the pods could still send shells ripping
through the stair well, the two men crept with the caution of
seasoned hunters.
Roughly three metres of protective stone enclosed the
spiralling stairs of the well from the ceiling of the lower presidency
to the floor of patriarch's personal chambers. The stairs moved up
beyond that but from this level they were walled in and sealed off
by a thick moulded doorway, secured by an active ID sensor ring.
Only the Patriarch could pass.
At this level the top of that part of stairs was sealed above
them with a black iris shield door. When two operatives stopped
below that shield, out of sight of the gun pods, Jacob opened the
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palm of his left hand for Kallun to see. His palm screen was active
and words scrolled across them.
"Tricend at the top of the stairs." The screen read. "Opening
shield. Using gas. Hold breath for 10. Shoot if they move."
Kallun quickly got down and breathed a few lung fills of
air. Jacob pulled out a canister disk, roughly the size of his hand,
set a height on its readout and activated its small a-grav unit.
Whilst that hovered where it was left he pulled a finger length
transmitter from another pocket and pointed its emitter at the base
of the shield door. The iris design opened at the centre just enough
to let the tiny canister disk flit through. In a moment Jacob was
down by Kallun's hunkered form pinching his nose and holding his
breath.
There was the faintest movement of air as gas was
cannoned out in every direction above them. Three distinct thuds
sounded in the room above and Jacob opened the shield door the
rest of the way.
The two men moved. At the foot of three polished wooden
doors, evenly spaced around a circular hall, the three Sakijri guards
known as the Tricend lay still. Their robes were spread about
them, their oversized blasters and ornamental shield generators
useless against Jacob's gas.
Retrieving the floating disk, Jacob checked it's display
which was now counting down the seconds until it was safe to
breath again. Kallun checked the pulses of the inert Sakijri one by
one. They were alive, but would remain probably remain
unconscious for several hours.
Jacob let his breath out and Kallun took that as a signal that
the gas had dispersed. Breathing in, he found the air to be filled
with a sickly-sweet odour that stuck to the tongue.
"Freshens the air nicely." Jacob grinned and pointed.
"'South west door, just in front of you. There's a small switch in the
top left corner. See it?" Kallun did. "Good. On my mark, flick that
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with death and come off conqueror. Experience told Kallun it was a
dangerous emotion to have in covert operations. Its place was on
the battle field and Jacob was being altogether too loud in the quiet
corridor, but Kallun couldn't help but small at the big man.
The doorway Jacob indicated was recessed into the smooth
wall on the left side of the passageway. Unlike the other doorways
in the presidency this one was not made of polished wood but of
moulded steal. It had no decoration on it's surface, which had been
painted black as midnight. Kallun looked around the door frame to
find some means of operation, a code key slot or palm panel. There
was nothing, it was completely sealed.
"Not much to look at from the outside." Jacob commented,
stepping back to let Kallun get a closer look at the surface. There
were several symbols painted in red along the middle of the door.
They looked like some form of writing, but Kallun could not be
sure without expert help.
"I could use Sal's skills about now." Kallun muttered
pulling out his sensor clip and attaching it to his wrist. He guessed
that the watchers wouldn't be scanning here and no-one would be
any the wiser when he turned it on.
"Sal's long gone." Jacob said shrugging.
Kallun lowered the clip and turned back to face him. "What
do you mean? She's supposed to be back in her quarters in Halla
Gimni, isn't she?"
Jacob shook his head. "I tried to raise you but your comm
was down. We put out a compromise alert about two hours ago. I
heard our code name mentioned several times whilst Irache and
D'rethen were meetin' together earlier. I didn't hear everything, the
doors are pretty damn thick on that post, but enough to figure either
D'rethen's betrayed us, or Irache's just discovered we're here, even
if he doesn't know who we are. I hit the alarm and dove into the
shadows at the first opportunity. Sal will be back with Rae by
now."
"I'm sorry."
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It sat there silent and alone at the far end of the room. The
light from the strip that ran the walls of the room robbed it of
shadow and gave it's black surface a green hue. It was bright in the
room, the light undimmed compared with the rest of the Great
Hall's night time illumination.
"A morphe pod." Kallun said, walking towards the familiar
structure with a foreboding sense of dejá vu. "What in Halla Ka is
Irache doing with a morphe pod?"
Jacob was just behind Kallun, his huge frame filling up the
small space between the narrow walls. Kallun had just enough
room to walk around the pod. From all appearances it was an exact
copy of the ones they had encountered on the Dragonsfire. It's
height was almost as tall as he was, broad across the middle, ovoid,
with the matt black morphe flesh exposed at it's front.
"You know what it is then?" Jacob asked, regarding the pod
with a suspicious eye.
"I know what it is. But I have no idea what Irache could
want with one. Or how he even got his hands on one," Kallun
replied. "This is a piece of advanced control and response
technology used to pilot the Emrihsad proto-type starship
Dragonsfire. 'Principal feature is the use of advanced neural nets to
induce VR consciousness with a P-30 telepathic simulation."
Jacob swore quietly. The thought of neural nets scrambling
his mind caused him to shiver slightly. Kallun noticed the reaction.
It was gratifying to find that some things at least scared the ogre of
a man in front of him. Facing the pod, Kallun reached out his hand,
palm open, to the exposed morphe flesh. It rippled in response,
surging gently towards his outstretched fingers.
"It's active." Kallun said. His sensor field was showing the
power coursing through both the morphe flesh and its pod casing.
The neural net glowed like a beacon in hues of red and orange, its
fibres reached out into every part of the morphe. He unclipped the
sensor patch and stowed it back in his suit. He didn't want to think
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***
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returned from that realm." The Patriarch sighed. "Go now. Have
your men report to Khav Drell at 0500. He will train them for this
assignment. And if you find this woman with access to such
mythical chambers bring her to me. I would view such a creature."
D'rethen bowed and withdrew from the bedchamber.
Tonight he had failed. He knew it. Irache knew it and would
use it against him as surely as he would snuff out his existence if he
thought that D'rethen had become a threat. D'rethen knew he would
have found Vash and Kallun if it had not been for the interference
of the woman and their subsequent disappearance. Since then he
had tracked and traced, searched and researched section after
section of the Great Halls. His only conclusion had been the ancient
passages. That Irache refused to believe they existed was not a
surprise. The old man had never traced them, never found them,
and never had evidence to support their existence. When a man
reached Irache's age and experience there were a few things he had
to put down to straight mythology. The ancient passages were one
of those things. D'rethen was not so sure. As one who spent much
of his life in the shadows he knew that there were spaces between
the walls of the Great Halls that could not be accounted for. On the
official schematics of the Halls such spaces did not mathematically
exist. Only a few between circular rooms stood out and they had
been shored up. But there were times when he was sure one wall
stopped a metre too short here, or began a metre too early their. He
could prove nothing without devoting time to the search, but time
was not something Irache was giving him. And without it his
effectiveness in searching for the operatives would be severely
diminished.
Entering the guest room he made his way to the door
several metres ahead of him and moved through into the northern
passage. Letting the door lock shut behind him he proceeded to the
end of that passage and a second door which led out onto the well.
Pressing the call button he waited for the Tricend to open it up
from the outside.
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"This mist? Come on Kal, I'm sure your thoughts have more
colour than this." She approached him carefully, her eyes searching
his face. "Here, let me show you." Reaching out with her right hand
she stretched long fingers and pressed them against his temple. Her
touch was warm, even hot, but not unpleasant. The most unusual
effect was the soul shudder that one touch caused. Ignoring his
sudden intake of breath she closed her eyes briefly and Kallun felt
the same kind of warmth spread over his skull that he had felt when
Vash had touched the back of his neck.
"You've been mind shielded." Reanne said. "Good. You'll
need it. Ah, now there's a familiar environment." Pulling away her
hand she glanced at the mists again. In an instant they disappeared
to be replaced by blue sky and a familiar horizon of dual mountains
and snow capped peaks.
The mountain lake was as still as it ever was, and his hut
looked just as it had over a week ago when he had left it. This
week's crop was still crushed from the weight of Andreas's lander,
but looked like it might recover.
"Nice." Reanne said appreciatively.
They stood on the shore of the lake, near fishing rock, a
place Kallun had spent many hours at during his exile in the
Eastern Peaks. The ground under his feet was a combination of
rock and mud, dry from the clear skies and long days of early
summer. He could almost smell the mountain forest and sharp air.
Almost. And it was that one fact that reminded his senses that he
was still in morphe-space. Reanne, wandered over to fishing rock
and sat down. She arranged her robes about her and then looked at
Kallun expectantly.
"If you are here to find answers, I would suggest it would
be wise to start asking questions." Reanne raised a single eyebrow.
"Anytime you're ready."
"How do you know me? The Dragonsfire is light years
from here."
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"To the same place Irache goes every time he settles in this
morphe. I believe you just called it Halla Ka." Reanne looked out
across the lake to the lower lip of the mountains where the water
ran off towards the Naluri. "As to his purpose in all of this, that is
simple. He wishes to bring about Gedinnan."
"The great and last battle." Kallun mused. "So it is war he
wants."
"Oh, yes. Your friend Rae was wrong in that. Irache wants a
war. Without it the prophecy cannot come to pass and the dragon
has no hope of rising from his prison. But Irache wants a war he
knows he can win. That is why he has waited so long. Weakening
the political structure little by little until he could get what he
wanted. He learnt early on in the Heresy not to discount the
worldly power of mortal governments."
Slowly pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. Irache's
involvement in the construction of the Dragonsfire did not surprise
Kallun as much as it should have done. He wondered if Dukall had
suspected it when he sent them out to steal the ship. But he doubted
even the chief knew the extent to which this new technology was
being used.
Emrihsad, he was sure would be grateful, if just a little
disappointed, to find that their number-one ship components
designer was working for the Heresy and selling his work to
foreign power. And, from their own side, the fact that Irache had
been collaborating with Emrihsad personnel was a significant step
into gaining an conviction against him, should it all come back
down to Clause 15. Having an Emrihsad designed, built and stolen
morphe sitting in his personal chambers would act as pretty
convincing evidence to his complicity in a plan to overthrow the
council. The public were quite paranoid about such things. Of
course he could claim that he had been acting in the interests of the
state. That he had acted to preserve his beloved Colest. The
argument would rage, but, if they could bring their evidence to bare
in time it could at least delay his coup until after the peace talks.
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Either that or force his hand before he was ready. Of course Irache
could destroy the pod or hide it elsewhere as soon as officers of the
judicial arc tried to seize it. What they really needed was proof
beyond Irache's reach of a cover-up.
"We could have done with the Dragonsfire." Kallun said.
"Its secrets would have been a valuable asset in bringing Irache
down."
"So go and get it then." Reanne shrugged. Kallun laughed.
"That ship was stolen from us by raiders when the Kabella
was destroyed. You of all people should know that."
"True." Reanne conceded. "And shouldn't I, of all people,
know where that ship is sitting right now?"
"And where is that?" Kallun threw the question out, hardly
expecting a reasonable answer.
"Docking bay 337 gamma, Seerak station six." she gave
him an enigmatic smile, pleased that she had caught him in his own
snare.
"Station six?" Kallun asked, wondering if she was toying
with him again. "That's half an hour by shuttle, and hardly guarded
at all."
"A squadron of legionnaire fighters, combined with forces
from Spawn base took it from the Kabella. They had some sort of
remote device in the hull of the Dragonsfire, she literally blasted
her own way out. Both governments have now written the
Dragonsfire off as lost property, and she is available to anyone
who wants her. Personally, I would prefer it if that were you."
"If they had a remote device," Kallun said, a second behind
Reanne. "Why on earth didn't they use before we were sent in?"
"They wanted you to go in." Reanne took in Kallun's frown.
"If she had simply started up her engines and flitted away, the
Institute would have scoured the galactic arm looking for her. But,
as she was stolen by Colest operatives, and considering the present
movements towards peace, Emrihsad has had to come down hard
on the Institute and force them to write her off as a casualty of war.
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I expect they'll try and build another one, but without Shadiim they
will find it quite difficult."
"And our role in this was to make sure she could then be
stolen by pirates and written off a second time by our government.
Clever." Kallun nodded.
"So she effectively disappears from everyone's memory."
Kallun was silent for a few moments, looking out at the
sunlight dancing on the lake where the wind touched its surface.
"What designation is she hiding under?" he said eventually.
"She's lying in the hanger under the name Nadani. There is
not much in the way of offensive security but she is guarded by
church troops and spies. Nothing overt, Irache seems to think she's
safely in his pocket now."
"But why bring her here? If Irache wanted the Dragonsfire
for himself, why risk bringing her so close to Seerak?"
Reanne shrugged. "Maybe he needs her close in order for
his plans to succeed. Maybe she is a part of the coup you are so
desperately trying to prevent. As you yourself have pointed out, he
needs military power to succeed and such a ship right in the heart
of Colest could be just the kind of thing to do the job. I may be
wrong, of course."
Steadily Kallun held Reanne's gaze.
"You know why he needs the Dragonsfire don't you?"
With a shrug Reanne agreed. "Of course."
"Then why not come straight out and say it!" Kallun stood,
frustrated.
"Because, in games of life and destiny, all of us must play
by certain rules. This is not the time for you too know such things.
You must learn line upon line, concept by concept. This is enough
for now."
It was a reasonable enough answer and Kallun forced down
his anger, concentrating on the fact that the evidence of Irache's
complicity, and a formidable weapon to boot, was sitting a half
hour away under minimal guard in a rusting old tin can of station.
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***
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prepared his muscles for sudden movement. He put his hand on the
door frame and whispered the litany Irache had set as password.
The door clicked.
He was through and into the room in an instant. At the same
moment the katha came up and across in a precise lunge designed
to catch the large Sakijri in the back of the neck, to the right of the
brain stem at his weakest point. The blade struck empty air. Pulling
the thrust back, before it could overbalance him, D'rethen felt
rather than saw the blaster emitter by his face. Jacob had
anticipated him.
"Clever." D'rethen hissed. "It's not often I am surprised."
"Oh, I'm bag full of surprises." Jacob smiled. He flicked off
a field of distortion around the left side of his body. "'Deflector
shield. 'Made it myself. When its on you just never can trust where
your sensors say I am. I never tried it before, but I guess it
worked."
D'rethen stared at the emitter just centimetres away from his
face shield. He should have remembered Jacob's penchant for
making such toys. He should also have used his othersight before
barging in like that. Now, at such a range, he had a blaster to his
head that would cut right through his face shield as soon as he
moved. D'rethen turned slowly.
"Not to fast now." Jacob growled, moving between D'rethen
and the pod. The two men faced each other. D'rethen with his back
to the door, Jacob filling the space in front of him, blocking the
shadow runner's view of the morphe flesh beyond. It was clear that
the Sakijri was protecting Kallun. Good, a weakness. He could deal
with Jacob so long as he was guarding the pod. But caution advised
him not to move until he was sure of what was happening behind
the big man.
"What brings you to our master's lair, Sakijri?" D'rethen
asked, stalling for time.
"'Plotting your master's downfall." Jacob shrugged. "The
usual."
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"I am sure your would." Kallun grit his teeth. That was it
then. D'rethen had chosen sides months before, at he expense of his
colleagues, his command and his people. A traitor in every sense of
the word.
"Unfortunately," Kallun continued. "That will not be
possible." Kallun's steeled himself for what was to come. His duty
as commander was clear and under the weight his responsibility he
had little choice of action. At other times he might have found a
different solution, another option that would preserve life. But here,
in this place, the stakes were too high and the man before him too
dangerous to take a different path.
"D'rethen," Kallun wished he had bothered to find out the
psi-op's full title. "You are a traitor. Under martial law you have
sold out your people to a foreign power, and .."
"Foreign power?" D'rethen laughed maniacally realising
what Kallun was saying.
" .. and as such you must suffer the full weight of that law."
Kallun's eyes were cold now, his face grey. "In the lack of any
local facility you have the right to claim renunciation wherein you
will renounce your treachery forthwith and return to your base for
sentencing."
"And how do you intend to do that?" D'rethen sneered.
Kallun simply stared back at him. For the first time in many years,
the shadow runner felt his heart go cold with fear. He knew the
litany. Kallun was field commander in a military operation and as
such had the right of martial law over the men in his command.
D'rethen was one of those men, and if Kallun had the power of his
convictions. These words were a death sentence.
"Do you so claim?" Kallun asked.
"Don't be a fool, Kallun." D'rethen hissed, priming his
muscles.
"Permission to execute a traitor." Jacob said grinning. His
blaster pressed against D'rethen's head.
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Part Three
Chapter Nine - Spawn
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But it was obvious Yarrin had some covert purpose, D'rethen could
sense his cunning little mind working as he stared out at the bay
placidly. He just wished the he would get to the point.
He couldn't fault Yarrin too heavily. His genius had been
the catalyst that had started the avalanche of Irache's power and the
fruition of his plans. It had been the driving force that had brought
his master's dreams and schemes to life. There, below them, the
ships bore silent witness to the abilities of this 'Shadiim of the
Benhi'.
The ships. They were the reason why he was here. Irache
called them the Gedinnan fleet. What wonders they held within
their midnight hulls made even a seasoned warrior tingle with
anticipation. Six of them lined the walls of that cavern, jump wings
folded inside new built hulls, grav burners silent. D'rethen and his
legionnaires had been given a tour of the Serpentdawn, the ship
that had been nearest to completion when they arrived Even
D'rethen had been forced to admire the genius that had created
them. It was not all Yarrin's work, but to his credit no misplaced
pride had stopped Yarrin from incorporating all of the Emrihsad
additions into these illegal copies. All the modifications had been
including: the proto-matter jump wings, the self-effecting repair
systems and basic ship design a combination of engineering and
scientific achievement that no one man could dream up alone. But
these new ships had been built for the legions, not Emrihsad. Inside
their precious black hulls the grey of Sierra adorned the passages
and hatches from the troop hold to Command Control. Sacred
symbols taken from the text of the Mysteries stood above each
hatchway as wards and protection for those inside. The Sword of
Sierra was emblazoned in its traditional gold in the top right corner
of every display. D'rethen had thought that last touch betrayed the
flamboyant influence of the people who had built those ships under
Yarrin's direction. But he couldn't complain. It was not in his
nature to do so. He had enough suspicion and ambition to occupy
his thoughts and being suspicious of the people of Spawn was a full
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time occupation. After all, it was they who were the hands on
builders of these vessels, and it was their protection which kept this
little fleet out from under the eyes of the likes of Alpha Camp and
its lackeys.
They were, in D'rethen's opinion, a loathsome bunch. But
they had their uses.
Spawn was the last of several bases once controlled by
clans of pirates that had grown up in the early years of the First
War. The days of their emergence had been times ripe with
opportunity and profit for those not bound by the chains of moral
sentiment or power allegiance. Both Colest and Emrihsad had, on
occasion, called upon the skills of those early entrepreneurs,
running arms under the enemy's nose, transferring captives, or
making supply routes difficult for the opposing states. It could be
said that the power and origin of these piratical groups had been
brought to pass by the schemes and machinations of the very two
factions of that first war that had since sought to destroy them with
equal fervour.
Such was the birth of the clans. Groups of pirates allied by a
common heritage and secret oaths handed down from times before
the arrival of the originators. There were many clans in those first
days. Alliances were forged and broken creating empires of piracy
and free trade. Each of those empires falling under the rule of the
strongest families.
But as the war neared it's first ending, and profits fell, some
of the clans got greedy and began to prey upon worlds they had
been given no leave to attack. Once a tentative peace was
established between Colest and Emrihsad the issue for the
extermination of those clans was released. Agreed upon across
diplomatic tables and implemented by joint task forces from both
Emrihsad and Colest, it was the first of only a few combined
actions between those governments before disputes over new
territories brought hostilities to a head once more. But, in the years
between the first peace and the second war, the operation against
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the pirate clans was a well planned, well fought venture by battle
hardened troops from both sides. Areas they could not reach
through open assaults they reached by offering rewards for the
heads of the major clans and pardons for those that sold them out.
The kind of sums both Colest and Emrihsad offered made the wrath
of the diminishing families in power worthwhile for those
considering treachery. Even the Church had assisted, adding its
legions to the troops that hunted the outlaws.
Strange that we who hunted and destroyed one another now
work side by side like lost brothers recently found, D'rethen
thought, watching the pirate teams and their skilled slave teams
hovering near the ships in the weightless chamber, scanning and
tuning, finishing the work Yarrin had begun.
The destruction of the clans had not come overnight. Many
survived the first purges, hiding out in temporary shelters or
operating through nomadic bases. It was said that some even found
their way into the tribal homelands, although D'rethen was
uncertain how they could have survived long amidst the religious
barbarism the less developed tribes were renown for. But, one by
one, they had ceased to exist. Leaving small operators to
commandeer the remaining business opportunities: operations that
called themselves pirates but were little more than bandits and
ruffians. Of all those great clans from the early years of the first
war only Spawn remained.
Some chose to believe that Spawn remained because the
ancestors of the present matriarch had sold out the rest of the clans
in order to clear the way for their own enterprises. Having spent
two days on a ship with Oran and her Sya Squad, D'rethen could
believe that. Though the truth of the matter was that the other clans
had simply been hunted down efficiently and inexorably by the
combined forces of two governments and their religion. Their bases
were located and destroyed, their businesses scattered and crushed,
until only Spawn was left. And Spawn had survived only because
of its incredibly defensible position.
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Out here in the void there was not a habitable planet for
light years around. The rocks of the Nivalin asteroid belt provided
the perfect resource of raw materials and defensible outposts for
those first clans. The Dithrique clan had found it first and fortified
it. Mining the asteroids with slaves taken from early profits and
raids, hollowing out the thickest rocks, some of which were
hundreds of kilometres wide. From those caverns a free market had
emerged, rising with the prosperity of its owners, growing with the
influx of groups from allied families. With that trade centre had
arisen the pleasure markets, space stations, ports and dorms of
clans from around the galactic arm, all bound under the one law
Spawn boasted. No clan brother should kill another whilst sheltered
in the rocks of Nivala. All disputes and wars, grudges and
grievances were set aside before ships reached the docking rim.
The penalty for breaking those laws were sometimes worse that
death, and there was little room for mercy in Spawn justice. In
those first years Spawn had been considered the capital city of
outlaws. Its open market a hive of illegal riches.
When the first attacks came, others had fled to her safety
and holed up behind the natural walls of billions of tons of floating
rock, trapped between the twin suns of Nivala. Such was its nature
that all approaching ships had to drop out of jump space half a light
year away, in order to avoid becoming wreckage upon the rocks of
the Nivalin belt. It was not like approaching a solid body such as a
planet or star, here the currents of jump space were easy to lose,
distorted and confused by the proximity of the two stars and so
much free floating matter. They twined through the belt so
tentatively and with so many turns that no ship could ever hope to
navigate them without falling into real space and disaster. Thus
there was always plenty of warning when incoming ships
approached. The direct assaults that each government had tried on
Spawn had been far too costly for them to try again. Special forces
found it nearly impossible to navigate their way through the
vastness, without being tracked by the relay of sensors the pirates
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had laid. Spawn had suffered some losses. Mainly from the
commando attacks. But never enough to shut her down.
Since all the other clans had been destroyed the original
initiative to be rid of them had been hailed as a great success and
then forgotten as old squabbles became new once more. Neither
Colest or Emrihsad had put much effort into further attempts at
sabotage or subterfuge in order to destroy Spawns operations over
the last century. The pirates attacked without regard for
government allegiance. Their base was on the border rim of the
galactic arm, in such space as neither much cared for. And so
neither government took responsibility for tackling them and both
blamed the other for the growth the pirates of Spawn had seen in
these last days. It had been the perfect place to build an illegal fleet.
And now, as D'rethen stood looking down upon the industry
of these outlaws and brigands he knew a great mistake had been
made in leaving them be. It was a mistake someone would have to
rectify once the coming war was over. He might even do it himself.
But today they were useful. And today he would call them friends.
"You have familiarised yourself with the fleet?" Yarrin
asked eventually looking down on his creation.
"Of course." D'rethen said evenly. "You have acquitted
your part of the bargain most commendably."
"I am glad that you think so." Yarrin nodded, his tribal
accent much thicker in Drioran than Kallorian. "I would hate to
displease our good master." He shifted on his feet.
"It is never good to displease our master." D'rethen nodded
gently and waited for Yarrin to get to the point.
Yarrin spoke again after a moments pause. "You wonder
why I asked you here. Perhaps the answer is in a supposition.
Maybe I am wrong and a fool, but my heart tells me that you and I
may share a common interest. That perhaps you feel as I do about
our involvement with these .." he waved his hand indicating the
expanse of the cavern ".. people."
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be able to pluck them from the small man's mind as gently and
quietly as a thief in the night.
"There are six ships here that are all but completed." Yarrin
said. "As I am aware there is to be one ship for each of the
legionnaire fleets you have dotted throughout the galactic arm, I
have come to thinking that, by tradition, you have seven fleets.
This is good for I know the works of my hands made seven ships,
for seven fleets. But here there are only six, That leaves my most
beloved unaccounted for. For, since its departure a few days ago.
Nobody seems to know where is the Dragonsfire."
D'rethen nodded. "That is reasonable," he said easily. "Let
me teach a principle in response."
Yarrin accepted this readily, as D'rethen knew he would.
"From our beginnings, it has always been that the seventh
fleet of the legions is the shadow fleet," D'rethen said. "In our
priesthood the ships of the seventh fleet must be the ships of the
mind warriors. As all fleets are more blessed when the warriors of
the mind are amongst them, the seventh fleet has always worked
within the six fleets of the warriors of fire and the sword." It was
also the highest honour to which a legionnaire could aspire to, with
means of recognition only the members of the seventh fleet knew,
and a bond of secrecy that was made upon the life of those who
took it. Only those proved in battle could be admitted and it galled
D'rethen that he had never been offered a position within its silent
ranks. The mind warriors were totally secret and lived without
regard of wealth, rank or power. Only prowess in battle. "This
seventh ship of yours is a ship of shadows. Hidden as the seventh
fleet is and kept from the vision of outsiders."
"However." Yarrin said. "There is a seventh ship. We last
saw her after her theft by the Colest operatives and then.." he raised
his hands. " .. nothing. Knowing our wise master and his business, I
do not believe that he would let it slip away, symbolically or
otherwise. He has his use for the Dragonsfire, and his use for it's
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theft and loss, but she is not here with us today and it makes me
wonder if she will ever be."
"Indeed." D'rethen waited for more. This man was
ambitious. It was showing more and more and he was interested to
know what Yarrin wanted with the Dragonsfire.
"My thoughts tell me that perhaps this ship of shadows is to
be used for purposes above and beyond those I was told of."
"Which reasons were you told?"
"That she was built to distract the attention of prying eyes,
to tap the reservoir of Emrihsad resources in conceptual design and
research, to lay the burden of the project upon Emrihsad pockets.
And many more reasons. But, we digress. For my thoughts are that
as the seventh fleet is not known by the outsider, perhaps this
seventh ship is not meant for common knowledge either. A silent
vessel for the use of the patriarch perhaps?"
"Perhaps."
"Then my thoughts also tell me that after the war of
Geddinan this ship will be at the command of the patriarch and
those who are chosen to use it in his service?"
""After Geddinan all shall be changed as the powers of
heaven and hell are shook to their foundation and a new order shall
arise"." D'rethen quoted, smiling at the momentary confusion
shown in Yarrin's face.
"Of course." Yarrin nodded. "True indeed. But my thoughts
say the new order will not appear in the blink of an eye as the
Levihths of Dahn believe. And in this time there will be use for this
shadow ship?"
""Those who resist the arm of the Lord should need feel his
waking wrath"." This time Yarrin smiled with him.
"And shall the servants of the Lord bear the sword of fire to
those who will not awake to the new dawning?" Yarrin asked.
"Perhaps. That depends on the servant and which sword of
fire they are thinking of?"
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their guardian was, she had led them out of the halls by then and
found a way back to the city. Kallun's team had amassed a
significant stack of information and evidence against his master by
that time anyway. It seemed logical for them to leave as soon as
they had the chance. It was what D'rethen would have done
himself. The sentinel's and watchers hadn't found any trace of
Kallun and the remains of his team either. And, by the time
D'rethen was forced to leave for Spawn, all they had been able to
do was mark their known bio-signatures along with their colleagues
and hope the faithful would deal with them. Once Oran's ship was
ready to depart it had been Irache's problem again anyway, and
D'rethen was open enough with himself to admit that he was glad
of at least that one thing.
His legion had left on schedule. Boarding Oran's armed
skutter early that morning with his personal decagon, the rest of his
legionnaires followed in freight ships behind them. They had no
trouble from traffic control. Church marked ships could come and
go as they pleased. Irache had made sure of that many months
previously. Two days later he was at Spawn base, training his
troops in the use of the new ships and planning operations against
known targets. As Yarrin had noted, he had made sure that his
troops did not mix with the Spawn scum, he did not want to lose
any of them to a stray blaster or mis-placed knife fight, they were
not of the clan brotherhood and it was perfectly legal to kill them
under Spawn law. He doubted many of the pirate clan could out
fight his legionnaires but it paid to be careful in the last days before
a major battle. He needed every man. Another three days and they,
like the ships before him would have to be ready.
In the mean time he had some personal matters to attend to.
Matters he had been preparing for a very long time. He thumbed a
sequence on his comm. The voice that came back was a deep with a
diffused and misplaced accent.
"Sir?"
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***
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and the Chosen Kalshial. Yarrin was no fool. He knew who they
were calling Kalshial now, and when his shadow runner had not
returned immediately he had presumed that he was dead.
Sometimes Yarrin wondered whether the hidden man really
served Irache or some other force.
***
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From his reaction, Vash had guessed that was a serious blow. She
hadn't cared too much. Since then they had all fashioned new bio's
for themselves, building them from scratch with Rae's arsenal of
stored Alpha Camp equipment and using them as often as they left
secure areas.
They were hiding out now in a disused warehouse on the
southern outskirts of the city near the sea. The warehouse was
shielded and hidden in natural forest camouflage. One of Rae's own
set ups formed through the Biodrone's cover operations.
Rae was to Kallun's right at the table, studying information
on her holo-plate. Still frowning as she had done for the last three
days. She had taken D'rethen's treachery hard. Apparently the two
of them had worked together for a number of years. She believed
him to have been a friend, but Kallun doubted the shadow-runner
held any such sentiment in her direction. D'rethen was not the kind
of man who ever considered anyone friend. Consequently Rae had
been somewhat quieter in operational proceedings. Kallun had
thought she would rage like a storm over Jacob's death, but she had
surprised him.
In the small hours of the morning of Jacob's death, after
Aliara had woken Vash, she had led them all to a series of passages
that meandered darkly under the hall and inside the mountain for
kilometres. They had emerged near the foot of Mount Geraz, tired
and blinking in the light of a new day. After another hour's walk
Aliara brought them to a small flyer in an unmarked shed. On that
side of the Naluri, the cover of tree's and woodland growth hid the
moulded shelter in the middle of a small copse. The shed looked
old and out of place, abandoned in the middle of the forest with an
overhang of branches that made it difficult to spot from the air. The
flyer inside, however, was a well maintained model, small and fast.
Aliara said she had chosen it personally, partly because the blue of
the body work matched her eyes and partly because the power to
weight ratio scarred her half to death when she pulled back the
thruster rod. They had flown into Biodrone and entered via the
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same secure route Vash and Kallun had used when they had been
brought in from Janus's ships two days before.
Rae had been expecting them ever since Jacob had
transmitted his compromise alert. But when she saw that Kallun,
Vash and the strange priestess were alone, she had feared the worst.
Kallun could still see her now. Standing alone in the great space of
the Biodrone office with its thick carpet, wide desk and broad, one
way windows stretching from to ceiling.
"What happened?" she asked, coming round her desk across
the room from them.
As Kallun explained the events of the night she had turned
away from him to stare out of the window. There had been several
seconds silence and Kallun had been sure that when she turned it
would be to unleash her wrath. But instead when she finally faced
them he found her eyes moist as though she was holding back tears,
he did not know whether it was over D'rethen's betrayal, Jacob's
death or both, but for a few moments she looked human and frail.
"I knew," she said looking at Kallun's grim features. "I
knew that when you came to us from this Dragonsfire, death came
with you."
Kallun had not known what to say and a signal from Rae's
desk had broken the silence. Rae's secretary, a personal assistant
from the ranks of Alpha Camp's security detail, alerted them to the
presence of Church operatives in the building. The iron defences of
Rae's character had been drawn up again and they had fled to the
warehouse, fifty kilometre's north of the gulf of Tirr. Now Kallun
almost wished he could have faced her wrath rather than that
briefest moment of grief. He could have coped with her wrath a lot
better. He was used to making people angry.
Even now he was not sure the edge of that grief had worn
off completely. Rae hadn't often lost people under her command,
and her grief made him realise with dismay that he had become far
more used to it in the history of his own command than he would
dare to admit. Today she was staring at his proposal and plans
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ready for the meeting with grim resignation to the facts of its
content. It wasn't as if she had lost her aggressive instinct. Though,
Kallun was sure if she disagreed with the plan she would have it
out with him without a second thought.
Beyond her Aliara looked out of place in the
technologically facilitated room. Even without her priesthood robes
she looked every inch the high priestess. She was dressed in a long
coated suit with a broad hood and cloak similar to those worn by
Adillan mystics and copied by designers from around the provinces
for one purpose or another. She had survived the rigors of the last
few days well. They had risked life and limb to contact the right
personnel that could help them fulfil their mission. As the days
drew near to Irache's inauguration to Council, they had been in and
out of the Council Chambers more times than Kallun cared to
recall, talking to allies and avoiding enemies as best as they could.
Aliara and Vash had also spent hour after hour in the otherness on
sorties he couldn't begin to understand. And yet they had felt it
extremely important to the success of the mission and so he had let
them. Now the day of reckoning was upon them and it seemed
hardly more than a few hours ago that he had walked Vash across
that black road to the white gate of Halla Kellsha.
His eyes moved from Aliara to the sixth seat. Sat beside the
priestess and laughing at something the older woman had said, was
the newest addition to the Seven Heads. His dark skin a sharp
contrast to the whiteness of Aliara's hair and face.
Kallun had sought him out the day before, as soon as he had
been sure of what direction their next move would take them in. He
knew Andreas would never return to Alpha Camp after it had been
over-run by Heresy operatives. Dukall would almost certainly have
given him orders to that effect. It had only been a matter of
destination elimination for Kallun to work out which of Andreas's
favourite resorts he would have gone underground in. He found
him fifteen thousand kilometres and four hours ride from Kabel in
the village resort of Mat Ahara on the southern tip of the Brell
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subcontinent. Andreas had brought his boys and their mother out to
the village with him under false bio's. Kallun remembered the place
well from a holiday he had spent with Andreas's family some years
back. It was a good place to hide out.
When Kallun had explained his need Andreas had thought
about it for ten minutes and signed on. He had said a fond farewell
to his family by throwing a feast in Kallun's honour that evening
and flown back with the commander in the morning. Kallun could
still smell the roasting meats and spiced marinades even now. The
taste of home cooking was still thick and sweet in his mouth when
Aliara began the meeting.
"Well I think it's about time we got started." she said
suddenly with a smile.
"I think you're right, lets get down to business." Kallun
dropped his eyes to his control pad and thumbed up the holo field
at the end of the table ready to begin.
"Wait just a moment there my boy." Aliara said grinning at
Kallun. "For the Kalshial you have a surprising lack of common
spirituality." Kallun knew he would rue the day he told Aliara
about Reanne's explanation of his name meaning. She had haunted
him with it unceasingly for the last two days. "We should start with
a thought."
"A thought?" Kallun looked at her like she was mad, Vash
was smothering a smile.
"Yes, a thought. From the scriptures." Aliara looked at the
assembled soldiers and operatives. They were returning her smile
with various looks which ranged from the tolerant to the openly
amused. "Sweet Erran, your a godless lot and if no-one else is
going to bring you into the light then its gonna have to be me!
Right." She pulled out a tiny book from the folds of her cloak.
Kallun had no idea where she had picked it up from. "This is from
the Book of Askal the Wise, Prince of the Ameadamons and
prophet of Erran, from a letter written to King Efianus of Gallipor.
Otherwise known as Chapter two verse One." She bowed her head
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into the book, peering at the tiny letters. ""To war is greatness. To
live is wondrous. To serve is godliness. But to love is greater than
they all"." Aliara smiled at Kallun again. He noticed Vash was
looking at him strangely. "Now you can begin."
"Are you sure you don't want to say a blessing on the
meeting as well?" He asked with mock seriousness.
"Well, if you really want a blessing on the ..." she was
forestalled by a chorus of "no's" and "really, there's no need".
Aliara replaced her book in her robes and interlaced her fingers on
the table top. "Well then, you better get on with it."
Kallun was not quite sure how, but the slight tension he had
felt in them all before Aliara had spoken had slipped out of the
room during her little performance. It was a talent he appreciated
on a daily bases.
Gathering his thoughts Kallun began.
"I think it would be best to begin with a summery of our
progress to date. Let's start with Sal." Kallun nodded at the
locksmith who took over control of the main table top holo field.
Immediately there were the now familiar graphs and lists they had
first seen in the library of Halla Gimni.
Sal swallowed and began. "The information we first picked
up a few nights back has proven correct in almost all of our more
recent investigations. Subsequent forrays have revealed files on
several levels with similar information. We can pretty much put our
finger on the exact number and position Heresy operatives in each
of the military installations around Colest. As you can see the
figures listed are more than sufficient to disable most of our
primary bases during any conflict."
"Are we certain of conflict now?" Rae asked.
"We reckon by his positioning of troops and the massing of
his legions that's pretty much what Irache intends." Sal nodded, she
didn't need to add Reanne's conclusion on that front to the report,
the physical evidence was quite overwhelming now.
"Go on to the legions." Kallun encouraged.
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"Me?" Aliara looked a little taken a back. Rae level her with
her commanding stare.
"Yes, you." Rae frowned at her. Kallun noted Rae had
frowned at Aliara a lot, as if waiting for something that never came.
"Though no-one has said as much, everyone here knows you are a
priestess of Hiera, supposedly a people extinct within Colest, but
your presence sheds more than a little doubt on that." Kallun
watched Aliara's reaction carefully. Everyone suspected she was
Hieran in more than just planetary allegiance, but no-one had
approached her on the subject. She sighed and shrugged.
"Well it's pretty damn obvious I'm not from one the
weakling sects that have parked their backsides in our Great
Hall's." she said gruffly. "I'm just amazed it took you so long
before anyone got round to saying anything. 'Nothing to do with
the subtle clue in the name of my planet and people was it? I'm sure
your first thought on meeting me was "Oh, a priestess from Hiera
IV, she must be Gimni or Valcon or something." never once
suspecting that the priestess from Hiera IV might just be Hieran?"
Kallun laughed at her gruff response.
"Well, then," Rae said. "As you are an admitted outlaw of
the forbidden priesthood ..."
"Forbidden priesthood, oh yes, that's a great name, that is."
Aliara muttered.
Rae ignored her and continued. "..then you will have some
considerably sway with Cirurian's who have never forgiven the
Heresy for removing your people from power. Having you present
might be the key we need to convince Councillor Varess to ally
with our cause."
"We can't do much without provincial support, Aliara." said
Kallun. "If having you go with Rae will help move matters along
then I'm all for it."
"All right, I'll go." Aliara said. Kallun could hear the
resignation in her voice. The priestess wasn't a lover of operations
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a-grav. Of the twelve stations this one is perhaps the oldest to retain
its designation. Three kilometres in length, it is also the smallest of
those stations with a maximum birth half that of it's nearest rival.
The corporation that bought the station off the government
purchased it at a bargain price some years back and run it at around
the same level of inefficiency the price tag dictated. At best its a
dirty steal trade point, with limited entertainment facilities and
frozen equipment, cracking up slowly from the absolute cold of
space. Its a way station and a storage port. A pale shadow of its
plush high tech competitors: and the kind of out of the way place
perfect if you want to hide something you don't want people to take
much notice of. During the war it was an armed installations run by
the military with trade sectors kept under strict control and
observation. Little of that atmosphere remains now.
"Bay 337 is located in this section of rim docking bays,"
Vash continued. "Ideal for holding a ship over long periods. Station
six uses the old claw and catch method of docking, so the
Dragonsfire is likely to be bound up inside it's docking claw just
within the outer hull of station, ready for quick release when its
needed."
The claw and catch method of docking had mostly been
abandoned. It was a means of docking ships on a moving station
that involved timing the velocity of the incoming vessel to match
the speed of rotation on the docking station and to meet the
extended docking claw as it curved around the outer hull and
literally caught the ship as it passed by. Wrapped around the
incoming vessel, the docking claw would then withdraw with it's
captured ship back into the hull, close the space doors beneath the
ship and remain locked onto the hull until such time as the ship was
to fly again. The risks were self evident. Crushed jump wings,
smashed comm. spines and damaged grav-burners were just a few
of the things that could happen with even the tiniest fault in timing
or equipment. And, of course, there was a mass limit on how big a
ship could be before it spun the station off course with the weight
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to get inside." And we've seen how well that works, he added
mentally.
"What we'll have to do is disable them without harming
them. Probably put them to sleep without lowering their heart rate
or synaptic activity" Vash smiled. "That's my job."
Aliara raised an eyebrow. "They teach you this trick at
Camp or did you devise it yourself?"
"Myself." said Vash, proudly. "I developed it at Camp as an
alternative to the straight killing pulse."
"Have you used a derivative of the subtle probe or a straight
blocking action?" Aliara asked.
"Not quite either." Vash said leaning forward.
"Ladies." Kallun held up his hands. He would have to stop
this discussion before it began otherwise the two talents could be at
it for hours. "I'm sure Vash would love to share her ground-
breaking techniques some other time."
Vash and Aliara both looked a little abashed. Their shared
love of the subtleties of their talent gave them a common bond that
could keep them talking for hours at a time. No one could ever
understand their conversations and none of the rest of the Seven
Heads had tried. What time they didn't spend talking together or
following up on assignments they were off in the otherness
travelling to who knows where anyway.
Vash returned her eyes to the holo-field and brought
Kallun's mind back to meeting He loved the way she looked when
she embarrassed. Her skin would fill with bright colour and her
eyes would widen ever so slightly. The expression had brought a
smile to his lips more than once.
"After the watchers have been disabled," Vash continued.
"It will be a simple question of engaging the occupants of the ship
individually in close combat. Our aim is to keep that as quiet as
possible and head directly to command control. Using the control
rim there we should be able to find where the rest of the decagon is
hiding and take measures to eliminate or contain them."
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actions to the people using Clause 15." Kallun glanced over the
group. The last three days had led up to this next phase of action. It
was time to move again and this time he hoped that they were a
little more prepared.
"Any other questions?" he asked. No one moved. "Then lets
split to our assignments and pray Erran goes with us."
"Been doin' that daily." Aliara said with another one of her
infectious smiles.
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"In the quiet dawn, the servant who does not serve shall
bow to the master of halla ka and be slain. For death is the reward
of all they that enter that realm and no man seeth the end thereof
until the day of Geddinan is done." - The Book of Esiath the
Outcast, Chapter 63 Verse 89
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imprisoned behind that gate and Erran was wiser than to leave a
prison door so open to unwelcome visitors. It was a guarded path
that led to the Dragon, and it was not the fiery swords of Erran that
guarded it either, but forces of that realm in all their horror. The
path that an uninvited spirit must tread to the fortress of His prison
keep was a path of darkness and deceit, laid with snares to catch the
unwary spirit, destroy its bodily form and drag it into the eternities.
One obscure passage in the Mysteries seemed to indicate that the
seeker would be forced to die thrice before he could gain the
Dragon's favour. He did not know what that meant but it was clear
across scripture that the servants of the Dragon loved nothing more
than to feed upon the life light of the living human soul, and not
even Erran could stop them in the bounds of that realm.
Words began flowing from his lips sounding dull in the
compact room. Ancient words that jarred the tongue and stretched
the muscles of the mouth. Slowly their rhythm caught and moved
with the undulations of his soul, caressing him, touching his being
gently at first and then with increasing pressure. The sense of the
room around him began to fade.
He had learnt the litany by heart, yet this was the first time
he had dared speak it and he soon realised that it was far more
difficult to keep that rhythm than he had anticipated. Persevering
against the limitations of his human tongue he felt the power flex
and then embrace him. Soon all that existed were the words,
moving back and forth across his tongue and around his mouth. He
could sense mortal reality falling away as the words took hold upon
him. They were creatures of air and water, sound and fire that burnt
his soul with their encompassing touch.
Suddenly, the darkness came.
It swept over his mind like a rush of black fog, cutting him
off from his thoughts, the visions of his imagination, plunging its
fingers into his thoughts and tearing his skull apart piece by piece.
His soul was rent completely away from his body at dizzying
speed. With it came pain and fear causing all to fall into darkness
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and disorientation. D'rethen had never felt fear like it. All
consuming it wound around his heart like a black cord and made it
hard to breath and harder to continue the litany that was yet to be
finished. And yet continue he did, focusing on the words with
every atom of his strength and being.
When the darkness had reached down into every part of his
soul it settled there, wrapping itself around him like a cloak of
serpents, scarcely to be disturbed lest they strike the wearer and
send him reeling to his destiny. The feeling was cold dread and felt
like the hand of death around him, but soon it no longer confined
his tongue, making the litany easier to finish. And finish he did.
As the last words rolled off his tongue D'rethen found
himself standing in silent darkness, clad in the black robes of a
shadow-runner. A sense of vastness surrounded him, as if he were
in the centre of a cavern the size of a world. But though his
imagination conjured a hundred ideas, he could not tell where he
was for the black depth was utterly without light. He knew he had
passed from his world into the realm he sought. The sense of utter
reality was unmistakable. But in which part had he arrived? And
without light how was he to know? It was as if he had been blinded
deliberately for whatever was about to come.
Suddenly hands grabbed his arms. Ice cold hands with
claws that cut through his clothing and pierced his flesh with
poisoned fire. Light spilled out from the wounds. Tiny shafts of
searing white light exposing the unspeakable spectres holding his
arms.
The black watchers. The guardians beyond the gate. He
could hear them, laughing and screaming at the limits of his
hearing, chattering unceasingly even their voices filled with the
menace of an aeon of hatred.
He turned to see them but was unable, their presence always
at the edge of his vision, hidden beyond the light, only their grip
remained constant and that was tighter than a host of steal vices,
crushing his arms slowly. More hands grabbed at his legs then and
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with a jerk that almost tore his arms from his sockets he was
stretched out, spread eagle and helpless.
He didn't see from which one the katha came. The white
blade of steal and blood seared through the darkness, falling
straight at his chest. Only its tip was used. And when it cut he felt
no pain, only the searing fire of the questing blade. It moved back
and forth inside his chest and white light began to pour from the
wounds it made. When it was done the shape of a seven pointed
star glowed from his chest and the katha hovered, waiting to strike
the fatal blow.
Then came the needles, their carved bone handles unseen
until the tiny blades had embedded themselves in his eyes. With
them came the next bout of pain. This one was powerful enough to
almost overwhelm him as he felt, rather than saw the green light of
his power flow between the katha and needles, the three blades that
would rob him of his soul if he did not act soon. But his arms and
legs were bound and his mind was teetering on the verge of
madness from the pain.
"No!" he screamed, hardly aware of the sound of his own
voice.
He had performed this ritual himself, he knew it, had
experienced it, had tasted the needles in his eyes and the holy fire
of pain. There had been a reason! If only he could remember why.
The kills flowed through his mind. His first, the novice from Halla
Valcon, raw power and no skill to use it with. His body had been
fat but his mind quick and powerful. D'rethen had taken that from
him. The second, a mystic of the Adillans, the third a magi of Gad,
the forth a Lord of the Manassi, the fifth a rogue runner captured
on Daheis, the sixth a High Priest of Ganaeral and the seventh the
Patriarch of Hiera hidden in the Subs. All powerful men, all of
whom had lost their soul power to D'rethen's needles and the thrust
of his Katha for this very reason.
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The green light had spread out across the entirety of his
body now. The black watchers were jittering in excitement and
anticipation as D'rethen remember the route to his power.
"No!" he screamed again. But this time it was not born of
fear, but of determination.
He forced the litany through his lips. A new light forced
back the old. Like the first it flowed from the seven points of the
star on his own breast. His strength returned with each word, the
noise from the watchers now fearful. Suddenly he found his legs
had been loosed. Then his arms were free and he dragged the
needle points from his eyes. The darkness was swept away and the
watchers fled.
When his vision cleared, as he knew it would, he found
himself lying with his back facing a grey-brown sky. Pulling the
katha clear of his chest he found it melted through his fingers as if
it were made of morning dew and disappeared. He stood.
Looking around him he discovered himself to be standing
on a track the width of a city flyer, it's surface mud and stones.
Behind him was an abyss, a cliff which fell away into an
unnaturally thick darkness, the kind he had just emerged from. At
the distance of his hearing he could just make out the chattering of
the watchers. He turned his back on the abyss and looked down the
muddy road again. Either side of the road there were pits filled with
that same gaseous darkness, scattered at intervals and giving the
impression that the land here was not exactly solid. The pits
swirled with a life of their own, subdued and yet boding. Anything
could have been hiding in those pits. The landscape was a bleak
grey green, flat but with sudden crevices and streams between the
pits, like a peat bog in early winter. Only the track ran straight and
true under the miserable sky.
Along it's length he could see the carcasses of dead warriors
strewn either side. Raven's pecked at their skulls, and buried their
beaks in open wounds. The key, Irache had once said, was never to
let a foot slip off that track, for this was the Road that led to the
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high it could have been distant moon rather than a space station the
sky beyond it held nothing but the vastness of the stars.
Andreas approached the traffic lanes and gained his position
in the docking queue followed by his clearance to land. As a small
shuttle they didn't need to play the catch and claw games of the
larger ships and were presently on approach for hub of the station.
There, at the centre, they would rotate the ship to match the
station's spin and enter it's hollow core.
"'Be about five minutes for them to get a pad cleared and
ready." Andreas reported.
Kallun began checking his equipment for the final time. He
wore his combat suit tightly underneath his regular executive outfit.
It wasn't the most comfortable of fits, but it hid the bulk of the suit
under the fine material comprising the majority of his outward
apparel. Pulling up his shirt at the waist he checked the power flow
and shield strength. He had the suit's hood rolled tightly in his case
along with a flat handed blaster, laser scalpel, sensor clip and four
concussion grenades that he would attach to his suit once they were
clear of the security check. In his outer pockets he had an S-70
penetration unit disguised as a high quality personal pad. They had
all come from the same store the shuttle had appeared from. Rae
kept herself quite an arsenal. She told Kallun that it had been
Dukall's idea, that the Chief had felt it important for his teams to
have equipment stored in areas beyond Alpha Camp. Kallun had
counted on as much from the wiley old man.
They were approaching the gaping maw of the station hub.
Andreas had already matched rotation and the stars spun around the
ship like a cylinder of moving light. The only thing that looked
stationary now was the docking mouth. Laser pulses guided them
into the brightly lit area, where ships around them were settling
onto grav pads and descending into the lower regions of the station.
They flew slowly here, guided by the station's control team,
eventually settling on a small grav pad mid way up the station,
away from the general traffic.
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someone onto it right away." The leader of the team said as they
left the bay by the hatch opposite the shuttle door, to which the
guide had already retreated.
Once they were gone Kallun, Vash and Andreas, headed
straight for the hatch by the nose of the shuttle, marked "Access to
Level Seven". As soon as the hatch was closed Andreas gave him a
side long look.
"Scary." He said with a grin.
"Very authoritative." Vash nodded with a smile.
"I think young Darraw nearly filled his neatly pressed pants
when you turned on him, though." Andreas smiled. Kallun raised
an eyebrow.
"You were with them two minutes and you already know
them names?"
"It's a skill I have." Andreas shrugged. "'Notice they didn't
do a secondary scan on us though."
Kallun smiled. Andreas could talk a starving lion out of
dinner if he had a mind to.
Heading through the second hatch door they found
themselves in a broad corridor, styled in the station's characteristic
red brown colour. On the left it stretched for a hundred metres
before opening onto a wide room, probably an arrival's lounge of
sorts. On the right it curved away from the hatch door.
"Which way now?" Andreas asked.
"To the changing rooms." Kallun replied, his S-70 in hand.
"This way." He indicated right away from the arrivals bay.
Within five minutes they were standing outside a row of
doorways, separated by two metre intervals.
"Ahh," said Andreas. "Public hygen cubicles. There's no
place like 'em." He grinned at his colleagues.
"'Last one out's a dung worm." Vash pressing her fingers to
the plate and stepping into the cubicle.
Entering his own cubicle Kallun removed his shirt and
jacket and placed the shirt in the incinerator. His jacket he turned
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inside out, to reveal a shabby old utility jacket with the P-Tel
insignia on it, which slid loosely over his combat suit. It showed
the V of his suit's chest, but imitation combat clothing came in and
of fashion with the season's and very few people knew the
difference between the fakes and the real thing anyhow. Removing
his hood from the case he attached it to the back of the suit and
pulled the jacket collar over it. Next he removed the sensor clip
from his case, attaching it to his wrist and pulling the arm of the
jacket over it. The blaster went into it's holster underneath his left
arm and the concussion grenades strapped to his waist. With the
disguised S-70 pad in his jacket pocket he added his case, which
now only contained the official looking bits and piece an executive
was expected to carry, to the incinerator pile and closed the hatch
for it to process the contents. After that he mused his hair in the
cubicle's mirror and examined his appearance.
His face had a few lines on it now. He smiled, there was
time when he would have had to add that artificially. However the
essential vigour of youth was still present. The clean shaven jaw
line was as strong as it had ever been, the heavy bones of a Raviran
evident in the structure of his features. His clothing made him
appear as if he could have come from anywhere. Not the kind of
person anyone would take much notice of in a run down freight
station on the outer edge of Seerak's traffic lanes.
Stepping out again, Vash and Andreas were already waiting
for him. Vash had changed her suit completely, she was back in her
slacks and a multi-pocketed jacket with the same P-Tel corporation
logo on it. The neck of her combat suit was also visible underneath
her jacket.
"That make's me the last one out, I suppose." Kallun said,
looking from one to the other.
"I'm not saying anything." Vash shook her head.
"Me neither." Andreas turned.
Vash pulled out a pencil sized stencil gun and approached
Kallun.
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***
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***
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and the pyramidal field generator he guessed that they were deep
into the game.
He signalled to Vash that it was time for her to do her work.
She nodded quietly and closed her eyes, shutting out all external
distraction and focusing. Kallun didn't know what it was she was
attempting to do, but Aliara had seemed impressed when she tried
to explain it and that was enough to know that it was a complex
task she was attempting. Hopefully by the end of it the two
legionnaires would be out of action but still breathing and thinking
normally. Kallun watched his sensor vision for any sign of change
from the two guards. There was none and he was surprised when
Vash touched him on the arm. A sheen of sweat had formed on her
forehead but she nodded that she was done.
Now all they had to hope was that the legionnaires inside
the ship didn't get suspicious when the team walked by their guard.
Placing his S-70 unit against the hatch control, Kallun
waited for a few moments until the pad had deciphered the code
and unlocked the door. The hatch slid smoothly to one side and the
team stepped into the bay confidently, Kallun slipping the pad back
into his jacket as it did so. The trick would be to appear as if they
had as much right to be there as any other P-Tel employee.
As he stepped into the bay, Kallun found the
Dragonsfire suddenly spread before him again in all her compact
glory. The sleek black hull was wrapped in a four fingered iron fist
of massive flexible girders. There were blast marks around her
engines still from the blast of Emrihsad fighters that had attacked
them near the Institute, but they had receded considerably since
Kallun had last seen her in the hold of the Kabella. It was obvious
the self-effecting repairs system had been at work to restore the
grav-burners to their full strength. At the rear of the ship the
underside ramp was lowered onto the deck. A flooring that was
principally thick steal covering the space doors hidden beneath it.
Beyond the hatch Kallun was impressed to see that the two
legionnaires were still deep into their game of holo - daje. They
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they had first entered the ship through at the Institute. Lines of red
filament ran the length of the walls, everywhere the eye could see.
Once all of them were inside Andreas tapped at a control, first
retracting the ramp, and then closing the hull doors, both the inner
and the outer behind them.
Kallun reached inside his jacket and activated his suit
shielding. He about to pull up his hood when he sensed movement
ahead of him. The blaster shot cannoned into his chest, knocking
him sideways. From behind him Vash used the space he had
cleared to return fire. There was flash and the smell of burnt air as
something darted passed Kallun's face. A thud and grunt was all
they heard. The firing stopped.
Pulling up his hood and pumping lost power to his shield,
Kallun jogged to the body. The thing that had flashed passed his
face had been one of Vash's body seeking projectiles. She was
checking the rest as he looked down at the body. Nothing else
could make such an unholy mess of a man's mid section. The
legionnaire had been firing from in front of the aft swift shaft.
Positioned to watch the ramp without being seen. Now he was
lying with the a small hole in his chest where the guided bullet had
entered, and a very large one where is had ricocheted around his
insides and exited in an explosion of body parts that had left very
little of his back intact. The floor was already wet with his blood.
Kallun frowned at the mess, remembering why he hated projectile
weapons. Vash had come up behind him and was looking a little
white as she surveyed the bloodshed.
Ignoring the body Kallun raised his chrono and waited until
they all did the same.
"Sixty seconds on my mark. Three. Two. One. Mark!" Each
of them touched the countdown on their chrono's. Vash set off
down the passage on the right, following it's curve round to the
starboard swift. Kallun himself set off round down the left passage
to the port swift. Each of them would step into their swift when the
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wondered if his back was broken, there were very few spirit
surgeons that could repair such a wound. But the pain came from
his legs as well as from his upper body and giving him cause to
believe that such was not the case. Somehow many of his wounds
had been healed. The pain was merely fatigue taken to its extreme.
Turning his head D'rethen saw a figure in a long black robe,
it's eye's were red as burning coals, it's head blunt and disappearing
into it's neck. He recognised the look. It was one of the Hajdrac,
the serpent guards. Beings brought by Irache through the gates into
the otherness and employed now as his servants in that realm.
D'rethen had been met by one following his killing of the Hieran
Patriarch, just before he had encountered the psi-op woman, Vash.
They were a strange race, spirit beings who hid their true form in
the mask of a serpent. But this place was not the otherness.
The fire in the far corner burned brightly, lighting the grey
stone room but putting the Hajdrac in shadow beneath the hood of
its robe. There were no windows in the fortress room. D'rethen was
thankful of that, they were despicable creatures. But its presence
begged the question: where was he?
"You wish knowledge of your whereabouts?" The creature
asked, reading him. It made a strange hissing noise that sounded
like disdain. "You must think it through, wonder, learn and come to
conclude."
D'rethen closed his mind from the kind of passing
penetration the creature had exercised. He didn't want the Hajdrac
reading him so casually whilst he reflected on his position.
He was not in his body, again. He still had on the black
breast plate of Sierra. Neither was he in the otherness; the fire, the
stone walls, the sense of reality were all wrong. The only place he
had seen like it that could create its own environments was Irache's
morphe and his body was hundreds of light years away from that.
That left him one conclusion. He had not left the realm of the
Dragon. A flicker of hope stirred within him.
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that oath with ambition. Will you swear the same oath to me and
have me believe it?"
The Dragon flattened its wings and took a several steps
forward, the movement fluid and quick and the thick air rushed
before him. Within moments D'rethen could feel the heat of the
Dragon's breath encompassing his body. His spirit recoiled from
that presence for it was like a mirror held up to his soul.
"See what you serve D'rethen of the High Worlds." The
Beast hissed, its head level with D'rethen's. "See yourself. See that
which your heart calls master and tremble in the knowing."
D'rethen could not stop himself from turning and looking
into those eyes.
His sight blurred with the speed of it. Visions of his youth,
the ambition apparent even in those early years, the disdain
harboured for his family's weakness, their lack of vision for the use
of their natural power, the foolish laws prohibiting those who went
off world ever to return. His departure and the discovery of his psi-
talent in a gang attack. The brains of the gang leader flowing out
through his nose as the others recoiled in horror. The exaltation of
killing, Alpha Camp and psi-ops. The works of death administered
in the field. The dark side of the government he had served. His
introduction to Irache. The power of the Dragon cult, the
movement which hid behind the veil of the Heresy. The killing of
the patriarch in the subs. The death of Jacob in the Communion
Chamber. He saw it all in a second.
But it was what it he felt that caused the scream to escape
him. The absolute reflection of his deeds. The complete reality of
his past tearing through the walls of time, perception and memory
to assault him in a berserk rush of human frailty, darkness and
death. The barriers of the mind swept aside to deal with reality in a
way no mortal man could ever hope to endure. He saw it. Felt it.
Experienced its flensing power in all its weight and glory.
The Dragon pulled back and left D'rethen whimpering on
the stone floor.
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***
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***
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Decdroni. It was the only way thing he knew that would make
completely sure they could safely pilot the ship out of the station.
He had approached Vash with the idea when she came to
check on the tranquilliser given to the Decdroni. He hadn't
approached it too delicately and they were arguing about the idea
now.
"You have no idea what you are asking." Vash was wound
up tight and gesturing with her arms to emphasise her point. "You
can't just drill into someone's mind with a psi probe and expect to
dig out whatever you want, the human brain is far to complex for
that rubbish." Her face was flushed and offended. It was something
Kallun hadn't expected and didn't understand. She read other's
thoughts so often he had hoped she would just go ahead and do it
when asked.
"Don't give me that." Kallun countered. "You know it can
be done. I've read psi-op reports in which it has been done. I don't
see your objections."
"And reading reports makes you think every psi op can just
stick a probe into someone's brain and suck out whatever they
want?" She turned away from his eyes not wanting him to see the
fear in hers. She knew she was losing the argument, when Kallun
set his face in stone like that he rarely budged more than a
centimetre, and besides looking at him would make her all the more
angry. He was so stubborn!
"So what you are saying is that you can't do it?" he asked.
"No," she looked at he ceiling. "That's not what I'm saying."
"Then what's your point?"
She whirled on him then. Infuriated at his refusal to listen to
what she had been trying to tell him for the last twenty minutes.
"My point is that those reports don't mention the after
effects of that kind of an intrusive probe."
"Loss of cohesive thought for an unspecified period of time
and a diminishment in the brains abilities to access psi-stimuli."
Kallun spoke as if he was reading a medical report.
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"Is that what it's called?" She nodded. "How clinical. Well,
I've done it twice. And I shudder at the memory. 'Loss of cohesive
thought' doesn't even begin to describe it. Do you know what its
like to have someone else's identity in your head, to live someone
else's life in an hour? To experience their joys, feel their pains and
lose yourself in those experiences so much that you no longer know
who in halla ka those thoughts belong too?"
Kallun shook his head. "Obviously not."
"Well I do. And I don't want the debris from her mind.." she
stabbed an accusatory finger at the Decdroni. "..In my head."
"Are their any other dangers?" Kallun asked. Vash could
see from his face that she hadn't made him understand. How could
he? No one who hadn't been inside a psi-probe could fathom its
diabolic ramifications. The sense of displacement, the
disorientation for days after, the switching of personalities that
lasted sometimes for weeks. Not to mention her personal disgust at
the act. It was like mind rape, tearing the subjects thoughts from
their natural hiding places to inspect them, use them to get at
memories, experiences, dreams and plans that should belong to no-
one else. Everything she believed in cried out against such an act.
Vash shook her head. She could not win.
"There is the risk of permanent damage in the mind of the
subject, even brain death. No other risks to the prosecuting psi
other than those that you've mentioned. Most of the dangers
inherent in the procedure are to the subject. As for the time period
that the psi suffers the effects of the scan, it is unspecified because
it is different for every psi. I recover quickly, so I'll be out of it for
not much longer than an hour following the probe. My
recommended rest time before using my talent seriously is,
however, forty eight hours. Minimum."
Kallun paused a moment. Two days without the use of
Vash's skills would be difficult, but against losing the ship it was an
acceptable risk.
"Will you be able to access and operate the cloak?"
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She was dimly aware of the plain cabin, the hard metal under
knees, the dry recycled air, but her thoughts were bent wholly to
the task at hand.
The image of her body melted away and Vash's sight
perched on the edge of the otherness, seeing things in both the
mortal and spiritual worlds simultaneously. She was determined
not to destroy the woman's mind by barging in and tearing away at
her spirit self and so she extended her conscious towards the
Decdroni's essence slowly. A psi probe was not like projecting your
spirit into the otherness. And often, as with Kallun, it was much
confused with othersight and the ability to sense the thoughts that
played across a human mind. In such a probe the psi needed to
reach out with their very essence. It involved a shifting of
perspective, like drawing close to the face of a person, feeling their
breath on your face, learning their every feature a distance
centimetres apart, and then going in further, into the well of the
mind and the black maelstrom from which human thought was
formed. It was an intimacy that few dared imagine, the touching of
the raw essence of minds. And it was that contact that terrified
Vash more than any other part of her power.
The woman had a dark spirit, and it surprised Vash at how
stained and decayed her soul had become from neglect and misuse,
like a cancerous lung when seen out of the body. At her first touch
that spirit recoiled, but with some gentle persuasion the Decdroni's
subconscious finally accepted Vash's caress and relaxed. The
woman's spirit followed a few moments later, its borders blurring
in Vash's vision, its natural defences softening.
Once the barriers formed by the spirit shell had been gently
lowered Vash approached the mind of the subject, shifting her
conscious towards the woman's head and the brain within. She
hovered on the edge, looking down and forced back a shudder that
stemmed from the intimacy of the contact, the closeness she was
experiencing to such strange space. If the woman's spirit had
seemed blackened, it paled in comparison to the dark of her mind.
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It was hard not draw back, to flee the coming cold of that first
touch. As she stood on the thresh-hold, the thoughts of the
Decdroni like a seething pool below her, she steeled herself and
then, with a more solid resolve, dived in. This last move could not
be done gently, there was no other way in. She had to dive, to
pierce the membrane like a surgeons knife, or else she would never
get beneath the surface thoughts. Rushing at the heart of that dark
pool she thrust with all her might and broke the wall of the
woman's brain with a wrench that tore at the sanity of both Vash at
her subject.
Reeling from the contact she fell into the maelstrom and
began her hunt.
***
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incidents in and around the peninsular bases where his men had
mysteriously gone astray. It was getting precarious to walk the
corridors of Alpha Camp alone, and his troops were beginning to
believe the ghost stories spread by the camp's remaining staff.
He was certain now that Dukall had anticipated the Alpha
Camp declassification and taken measures to instigate what was
called in military terminology a 'tidal response' - an effective action
that crept up on an aggressor like the tide of the ocean and was just
as unstoppable. In truth Irache wondered how long they would be
able to hold Alpha Camp without engaging in direct hostilities -
executing staff and so forth. The response to that could be fatal. He
knew his men were good, but they would be hard pressed to match
the fighting skills of those already on the peninsular if they chose
to rise. As long as the camp lackeys thought that they could reclaim
their own rule of law through the old government they would
continue low level resistance. Irache's men would have to live with
it.
Alpha Camp wasn't the only base that was growing more
and more difficult to keep control of. There had been open hostility
displayed on some of the colonial bases. Though the rest of the
population didn't know about it, he had already been forced to
engage in open conflict one of the outer rim bases. The church
control their communication relay the rebels were out numbered. It
was only a matter of time before they were defeated, but it was a
disturbing prologue to the way things could happen in other bases
if his operatives were discovered. It was upon them his strategy
relied. Without their efforts he had a force barely one eighth of the
size of Colest's military. He counted on roughly half of those
already within the military swearing loyalty to the Church, but even
with that half, should the remainder resist, the battle could become
bloody if he did not seize the initiative first.
Add that to the situation with the Seven Heads of the Wind,
Kallun's re-enforced team and the threat they would pose roaming
the galactic arm in one of his own ships (not to mention what his
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one was merely a counter, but its effect on the systems of Colest
would be far more lethal than the destruction of one ship.
Depressing three buttons at once, Irache brought to life a single
digital display. He tapped in a pre-set code on its number pad and
watched the display first set the numbers one-eight-zero-zero-zero-
zero, and then begin counting down. He checked his own wrist
chrono strip, the same numbers were counting down, connected to
the box as were similar strips across known space.
It would take the Geddinan fleet sixteen hours to get into
position, the small lead ships from Spawn joining the waiting
Sierron fleets at strategic points throughout Colest. Two hours later
the countdown would cease, and Geddinan, the great and last
would begin.
Irache allowed himself a smile. Thus it ends, he thought.
And thus it begins.
***
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then she had looked out into the otherness and saw him there.
Waiting. His body burning with unholy fire, scaled green and
inhuman, the dark lust of his eyes raking her spirit and she had
known fear. He was waiting for her. What ever he was. He was
waiting for her.
***
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take hold and a number of blood soaked rags now littered the grey
floor of the cabin.
Promising himself he would never ask this of her again,
Kallun had kept in close touch with Andreas from Vash's cabin.
The pilot was conducting a detailed scan of the ship, in case Vash
couldn't get what they need. He had already found booby traps in
both the grav burners and the standard jump catalyst. He was
presently working on the jump wing bulbs from the inside, but the
going was slow, particularly as they couldn't risk going outside and
disturbing the wandering legionnaires.
Kallun wished they could just leave the station and get out
into open space. Every second that ticked by festooned in this tin
can of a docking bay was another second closer to discovery and
disaster.
Vash was looking at him again.
"Vash? Are you with us?" He spoke gently touching her
hand. She pulled it away, sudden fear crossing her features. Then it
seemed she was pushing back the fear and she put her head in her
hands and sat dead still for several seconds.
When she brought up her head she looked at him again. She
had tears rolling down her cheeks, but to Kallun's relief, she spoke.
"Don't ever.." she paused. He took hold of her hand again
and this time she did not pull away.
"I won't." he said. "I'll not put you through that again, I
promise."
She nodded gently. "Good."
He let her stay quiet for a second, satisfied to just hold her
hand whilst she struggled to gather her thoughts and clear the tears.
"Where's Andreas?" she said eventually.
"Looking for booby traps in the jump wings."
"Tell him not to bother." She nodded, bowing her head and
putting the fingers of her free hand around her eyes. "There's none
in there. Tell him to come up here and bring a data pad with him."
Kallun smiled and contacted Andreas.
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school, holding hands with the next girl in class. A second later
their hands parted.
"Are you up to it?" Kallun asked, turning towards her with
concern. Vash's eyes were still red from the tears, but the small
room meant that they stood a few short centimetres from one
another. For an instant their eyes locked. Vash's lips flickered into a
gentle smile.
"I'll be fine."
Andreas was watching them like a proud parent. Sensing
his presence Kallun step away and resumed his posture. "What
about morphe-space?" he asked after a moment.
"They didn't use it." Vash said, searching his eyes again.
"Apparently there are ways to pilot the ship without it, but of
course you can't cloak and it's not ideal for battle. She was going to
train her men in its use today. She didn't consider it dangerous."
"Good." Kallun gave Vash an encouraging smile. "I want to
launch within the hour."
***
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From this point on the observer could guess that those six
ships would spread their jump wings and sail the current of that
turbulent realm to wherever in the galactic arm they intended to go.
But of course the observer would not be overly concerned.
After all, they were only six small destroyer sized ships. Black and
military in their appearance, but still small. What harm could they
do?
***
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able to leave the bay within five minutes. After a few seconds she
was given confirmation of a launch window four minutes and thirty
seconds away. She nodded pleased that the station had shown at
least that much efficiency.
Suddenly she whirled around, her hand clutching her
blaster. She had felt something brush by her. Its touch as cold as
ice. Scanning Command Control she could see no-one only the
morphes as still as stone behind her. Vash shuddered inside. The
touch had been like something running cold fingers across her
neck. It left her skin burning. Perhaps it was an after effect of the
probe.
Turning back to the console she continued to prepare the
ship for launch, warming up the grav chamber, flexing the muscles
of the beast at her fingertips. It was something she had learnt inside
the mind of the Decdroni, Tahlior. This ability to wake the ship
from one station on the rim.
She felt the cold touch again. This time it was like a hand
grabbing her shoulder, its claws biting into the flesh. Vash let out
an involuntary cry and spun on her heals her blaster drawn.
Again there was no-one there. Only the silent room and the
dead morphes. Her nose was bleeding and she could feel the pain in
her shoulder where the claws had dug in. Pulling the neck of her
suit to one side she examined her shoulder. There were five cuts,
four across the collarbone and one on her back, patterned in the
shape of a taloned hand. Drops of blood glistened on her skin and
the flesh showed angry red burns were long fingers had touched it.
Her heart began to race. Such phenomena happened only in
scripture, didn't they? Memories of childhood lessons and stories
rushed up to remind her of demons from the otherworlds, servant
of the dragon that had the power to touch the flesh of the living
when their spirits were weak. She pushed the stories aside. The
probe had left her powers exhausted and shocked but her spirit was
anything but weak. If there was anything going on, there was
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nothing she could do about it but keep her thoughts guarded and
her mind focused.
She was extremely glad when Kallun and Andreas burst
from the aft swift by the passage doorway one after the other.
However one look at their faces told her that something was wrong.
"Make sure the ship is sealed!" Kallun barked as soon as he
emerged from the swift.
Vash's fingers flew over the console, making certain that
there was no way on or off the Dragonsfire.
Kallun had rushed over to a weapon's station behind her.
"Secure!" she responded. Andreas was by her shoulder
suddenly. She smelt ozone on his suit and his P-Tel overall had a
hole burnt in it down his back. He had taken a hit from a blaster.
She didn't have time to ask what had happened.
"How long until we launch?" Andreas asked.
"Three minutes." Vash said.
"That'll hold them." Kallun left the weapons station and
went to the three morphes facing each other in the centre of the
room.
"Hold who?" Vash asked.
"Ambush." Was all the commander would say before
returning his attention to the morphes. "Bring these on line."
"Sir, we can fly without them." Vash protested.
"Not in battle. Now bring them on line." He was sparing no
time with arguments. Vash accessed the secure code she had picked
from Tahlior's mind, experiencing the momentary disorientation
that accompanied such action. She tapped it into her console and
went through the operation of bringing each morphe to life
individually. Something she noticed during the procedure was the
amount of power the morphes used in simply turning on. If the ship
suffered power failure the command crew would suffocate inside
them as the morphe-flesh . Effectively being buried alive. She
pushed the thought aside.
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Kallun was in the tactical hot seat, watching the fire fight
outside. From where she floated Vash could see his right tactical
screen showing an exterior visual of a motley group of mercenaries
and hired hands trying to blast the docking guns on the underside
of the ship. They didn't appear to have any guns big enough to do
damage to the ship anyway and some of them were already beating
a hasty retreat. The gunfire should have woken the legionnaires
although from her perspective Vash couldn't see any.
Her heart began to hammer suddenly. Warnings flashed
inside her head, beacons of pain and fire.
Though her powers were shot to pieces the edges of
perception sensed the danger. Out there, in the mists, was the
presence of something fearful. Something dark. She swung her
head around but could only see the grey brown of morphe-space.
***
***
Day 12. 1824 Station Standard (CKT - 1)
With a growing sense of horror Vash was remembering her
visions after the psi-probe. She instantly connected it to what
Kallun had told her concerning morphe-space. This place was a
field of the otherness. If the beast that had stared back at her from
the otherness in her waking nightmare was clever enough and real
enough to find the gate, it could come here. Her senses were alive
with something, her head throbbing with pain and her powers still
suffering the results of being abused in the mind probe. She was
weak and everything in her mind was crying out that something
was near. A hunter, and she was the prey.
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The bay was sealed now and they were moments away from
launch. Beneath the ship the metal floor covering retracted and air
was pumped out. The space doors unlocked and opened, the ship
now dangling above the void in the firm grasp of the docking claw.
Outside the bay the stars sped by as the station rotated and the sun
appeared briefly.
Vash looked around, her head darting from side to side.
"Vash what's wrong." Kallun asked. Seeing the fear in her
eyes for the first time.
"There's something in here." She said, her voice on the edge
of hysteria.
"Vash, stay with us. We need you to get that cloak on-line
as soon we clear the docking claw."
"I've no power." She said, her voice tense.
"You just need to touch it lightly," Kallun said calmly,
trying to soothe her with the sound of his own voice. "Like I told
you, earlier. Just a touch at the edges. Once that's done you can
leave morphe space and get some sleep, Andreas and I will take it
from there."
The ship was lowered out into the void by the docking
claw, passing both the primary and secondary hull as she went.
"Five seconds to release." Andreas intoned.
Vash, reaching out for the cloaking device with her senses
felt the beast again. Her head throbbed with effort of finding the
control gate. She just hoped that whatever was hunting out there
didn't find her until she had activated the cloak. Just a few seconds
and she would be free.
"Grav burner ignition." The clock counted down. "Two.
One. Release."
There was the briefest sensation as the ship's internal
gravity compensated for their sudden thrust and then they were out
into open space.
"Now, Vash," said Kallun.
"Full thrust." Andreas reported.
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***
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***
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that the women of these people had bones and bodies too fragile for
his tender affections.
He had clothed himself in robes after the order of his
master's priesthood, a long black cowl trimmed with gold, green
and blue, the colours of eternity. She would wake shortly, and he
would take her before his master to await the coming of the
Kalshial.
If he came he would have to come at the expense of his
mission and duties in the realms of men, that would free Irache up
of the threat of the Kalshial during the coup, and according to
prophecy it was the Kalshial that would determine who won and
lost at Gedinnan. Of course prophecy was open to interpretation
and often only in hindsight does it become clear what the prophets
were talking about. But his Master seemed to believe that luring
this woman to him would foil the Kalshial's endeavours somehow,
perhaps deny him his destiny even, and that was enough for
D'rethen. He had fulfilled his part of the bargain and brought her
here. Now he just had to wait for her to wake. And wait for his
reward.
She would not be leaving as easily as the last time. The gate
was now stable enough to maintain the link even when the
Dragonsfire ship jumped. Irache had Yarrin smooth that little quirk
out of the system. Vash was stuck here for as long as the Dragon
saw fit to keep her, and when she awoke, Erran Himself would not
be able to save her from the will of the Dark Lord.
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Part Four
Chapter Twelve - Darkstar Rising
"And at the last, darkness shall prevail over all the hosts of
heaven and the light of the stars shall be hid. In wrath shall the
warrior who is to come be spewn forth from the field of kings to do
battle with armies of the Dragon.
Then they that do evil shall tremble and fall. And the
servant who does not serve will draw his sword in Halla Ka and
await the coming of Shial through the flame of the dragon's fire." -
Taken from the Book of Esaith the Outcast, Chapter 12 Verse 82
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require. They had to prepare for the Kabel drop and at their rate of
acceleration they had very little time to do so.
Upon reaching the cargo bay he found it to be just big
enough to carrying a small squad of troops and their equipment.
Situated by the starboard hull of deck nine, it was three decks high
and about fifteen metres in length. The lander had been installed
recently and was wrapped in protective webbing just forward of the
main door. The door itself was a double locked hull seal, protected
on the outside by the same self sealing hull that had first surprised
Kallun back in Dukall's office and gave the ship her sleek black
skin. Aft of the door was a webbing rack for equipment in which
several weapon's boxes had been stored and by which the one man
pod was wrapped up.
About two and a half metres in length and a metre wide,
the pod was a forward seating bike in which the pilot lay flat on his
belly in the sealed interior and flew via basic environment
simulation. The simulation was the pilots window to the outside
world, and the nearest thing anybody had to morphe-space control.
The pod was armed with two forward facing heavy blasters,
suitable for disabling armoured vehicles at short distances and a
ring of Smarts - finger sized missiles a little larger than the ones
Vash carried, with concussive warheads that tracked small targets
over complex terrain.
The lander was much larger, It filled up most of the
available space in the bay and was about twice the size of your
regular family flyer. It carried a basic ship to ship shield suitable
against small arms fire and intermittent ship blasters. It's reinforced
hull was lined with ablative armour and energy diversion cells. Its
arsenal was a simple set of concussion blasters whose emitters sat
like dark crystals across the nose of the lander. Port and starboard,
computer controlled antipersonnel turrets swivelled on fluid heads
surrounded by the lander's thick body armour. It reminded Kallun
of his days as a trooper.
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settling of the vessel as the landing struts dug into the earth.
Andreas had chosen his spot well. The soil of Regents Park was
only a few feet thick, laid over a solid rock base. The park had been
landscaped just a few years before when the last administration had
driven to re-introduce natural ecology to the city.
As a popular tourist attraction, the park drew in a lot of
visitors to the Council Chambers, and Kallun realised that the
effect of their landing fields had just caught centre stage in tonight's
entertainment. No one would be able to see the ship physically as it
settled in the soil, but people were already crowding the edges of
the park trying to glimpse what had caused the storm. It couldn't be
helped. The effect would have been the same where ever they
landed.
Andreas locked down the ship's systems.
"Let's move!" Kallun snapped.
As he placed his palm on his stomach, the environment of
morphe-space disappeared. There was that moment of crushing
claustrophobia before the morphe spewed him onto the deck.
Andreas followed a second behind leaping into the starboard swift.
"Deck nine." Kallun ordered as the door slid closed on his
own swift pod. He was there in moments. Andreas joined him
again from an adjacent passage just as Kallun reached the cargo
bay hatch. The lander and pod had been released from their
webbing and sat ready for launch, doors open, interior lights on.
The squat grey lander was facing the starboard cargo bay
door, filling up the centre of the small bay, the small attack pod
slotted snugly to one side, aft of the lander. Kallun sealed the hatch
behind them as Andreas leapt into the open door of the lander by its
slopping nose. There were no windows on such a ship, and like
Kallun, Andreas would be flying by sensor produced imagery. It
was better than going visual anyhow, the experience was
encompassing, accurate and provided far more information..
The lander doors sealed as Kallun slid himself through the
narrow gap its front. The missile shaped pod was already open, it's
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canopy up. There was a light helmet on the body of the seat that he
put on and tightened. It covered his scalp nicely, but did not
obstruct his ability to turn his head. He jumped in the pod and
flattened himself belly down on the long, curved seat.
As the canopy slid down and sealed the pod, Kallun
powered up the interior display. Immediately it seemed as if the
whole pod around the long seat and instrument block had become
transparent. He had a complete view of the world around him in the
bay. Across the lower edge of the nose a field of displays, sensors
and simple tactical readouts were spread, passing him information
about the outside world. He slid his hands and feet into the flight
gloves and switched into the lander's communications channel.
"Andreas, are we clear on this channel?"
Andreas's voice came back as though he were stood just
next to Kallun. "Light's are all green."
"Remote on cargo doors is go," said Kallun, his computer
linked to the ship's brain. He darkened the bay to pitch black as the
cargo doors slid back with surprising speed. They opened onto a
bright Kabel night.
"Launch when ready."
Andreas was out of the bay and across the park in moments,
Kallun right behind him.
On lookers saw two streaks of grav burn hurtle over their
heads towards the pyramids. One or two even thought to call the
security forces.
The cargo bay sealed itself behind them. Kallun hoped that
they wouldn't be gone long enough for someone to figure out how
to access the vessel from the outside. There was no automatic
defence net to be spread on the Dragonsfire. That safety measure
had been kicked out to make room for Yarrin's modifications.
The Council Chamber pyramid towered over them on the
right. Flyers swarmed around it, their running lights streaming
across the night sky and merging with the unnatural illumination
radiating from the pyramid and the ground ways below it.
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The two attack craft were flying dark and more than once
on the short trip to the other side of the pyramid base, Kallun had to
dodge flyers cutting through the lower level traffic lanes.
By the time they approached the south western tip of the
pyramid Kallun had sped on ahead of Andreas. He saw
immediately the signs of a disturbance up ahead. As he went for
altitude he saw that security force fighters had surrounded what
appeared to be a small fire fight. For some reason they were not
interfering. As Kallun settled the pod high over the scene he got a
better look and saw that the armoured security fighters had circled
the wreckage of a executive flyer. It's nose had been blasted into
one great lump of molten mess. Occasionally blaster fire peppered
the destroyed nose and was returned by the group sheltering in the
flyer wreckage. From his tactical reads he discovered what was
holding back the security forces.
A group of masked men had set up a particle blaster in a
ground level delivery bay at the base of the Council Chambers.
Using what looked like a pile of kitchen trolleys as cover they were
holding the security fighters at bay with the particle beam and
blasting the downed flyer with hand guns. It was a stand off.
The masked men couldn't turn their particle blaster on the
flyer and finish it and whoever was in it off as the molten nose had
created a natural shield. They would also open themselves up to the
fire of the security fighters (who would be wound up like a storm
front in Halla Ka over this fight so close to the Council Chambers).
The security fighters couldn't move against the masked group
without getting blown to bits by the particle blaster. And the group
in the flyer was in no condition to make a difference either way.
Kallun saw it all with the lightening assessment of a
soldier's eye.
"Andreas. Hold your ground." Kallun ordered through the
comm.
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guns off, but they could bring his own pod down without too much
trouble.
"Everyone's in." Andreas said. A fighter had landed and
was disgorging several armed security officers. They were
approaching the lander.
Swivelling his antipersonnel guns Andreas laid down a
sweep of fire in front of the officers just as Kallun was forced away
from the scene. A line of blaster fire followed the pod, forcing
Kallun to bank, dive and dodge rapidly.
As Andreas lifted off he began taking hits all along his
shield. One or two of the blasts penetrated the shields, rocking
those inside as the lander's armour absorbed the impact in
explosive bursts.
The faster fighters pounded the lander as it sped northward
along the pyramid base.
In the his own pod Kallun had run out of projectiles but had
managed to dodge the slower sensors of the security fighters. He
was half way round the pyramid keeping tight against the sloping
wall, a few hundred metres above where Andreas's lander was
being pounded by the security flyers. He powered down his engines
and locked the pod against the wall. They wouldn't see him till he
moved.
Watching his tactical he spotted the energy net being spread
before Andreas did. Four heavy armour fighter reinforcements had
arrived and were spreading a net of ion particles across the path of
the lander. It would be enough to disable the craft if Kallun couldn't
stop it.
"Andreas, you have an ion net ahead, slow down." Kallun
broke his cover as a spoke. He would have to deal with this one up
close and personal.
"We're taking heavy fire!" Andreas called back. There were
bigger guns around him now. "If I slow we're not going to make it
back."
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***
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Councillor's Varess, Durne and Hathuri had been caught and killed
in the attack.
Kallun had the ship's brain run through the navicom
calculations before letting them lock. He eased back in morphe-
space. The Dragonsfire would just about fly itself to Mantian now.
With his round-about route they had about an hour to kill till then.
Between now and then he had a lot to do.
"So how's the team?" Kallun said finally, turning in the
mists. Andreas face darkened.
"I think you'd better talk with Rae." he said. "She's with Sal
in med-lab."
Kallun frowned. "'You keep an eye on things here?"
Andreas nodded and Kallun left morphe space.
Walking from Command Control aft past the crew cabins to
the med lab, Kallun wondered what kind of a sight was going to
greet him. He reached the lab's open door and turned the corner.
In front of him Rae stood with her back to the door, her
business suit scorched and torn. He short hair was matted with
blood that was drying on the back of her neck. To her left a smaller
slim woman with a mass of tangled black hair was leaning over one
of med-lab's two beds. Her suit had been torn at the sleeves and she
was without shoes. She was attending to a large man with a thick
mop of blond hair, a beard and light suit. He had a stomach wound
that was leaking all over the lab. The next bed along was occupied
as well, but there was a stasis field around it and Kallun couldn't
see who was in it.
His stomach twisted. There should have been more people.
Lots more.
Rae sensed him behind her and turned. Her face was drawn,
her features ashen. There was blood down the side of her face, all
over the front of her torn suit and on her hands. Her under-arm
blaster holster was exposed, by the wreck of her clothing. When
she turned Kallun saw that the stasis field revealed the face in the
second bed. It was Sal. At least the face was Sal's. Stasis fields
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were used only in serious cases and Kallun dreaded to think what
had happened to the rest of her body.
"What happened?"
The woman who was leaning over the bed turned to face
him. Seeing her face he recognised her as Councillor Varess, a
woman of his own age who made a career of being the outspoken
defender of the colonies. By the size of him Kallun guessed that the
blonde man on the bed must have been Councillor Durne. The
man's eyes were open and he was starring at the ceiling. He was
breathing.
"An ambush." Rae's voice was croaked and quiet. "Lucky
for us it was hastily arraigned."
"You must be Kallun Josephs." Councillor Varess
approached him, letting a field unit bio-knit work on Durne's
stomach wound. She looked down at her blackened and blood
stained hands. "I would shake your hand, but as you can see that
would not be appropriate." She had grief in her eyes. Kallun knew
the look. It was the look of fresh troops after they lose a friend for
the first time, there is the moment of strength during the battle, and
then, when the fighting is over, the realisation and the loss. Varess
looked like she had just realised what had happened. She was
coping with it, but Kallun thought she would have been better to let
it out.
"I understand." Kallun said. The man on the bed was
looking at him with a pair of pain fogged eyes. "Councillor Durne."
Kallun nodded. The man returned the nod hesitantly but did not
speak. He returned his gaze to the ceiling.
Rae looked over at Varess. "Would you attend to Durne and
Sal while I talk with the commander?"
Varess nodded and turned back to her task. Kallun did not
envy her. The Dragonsfire was still basically an Emrihsad ship.
The medical equipment was limited and dated and whilst from his
limited assessment Durne's injuries could be patched, Sal's were
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beyond them here. Med-lab only had those two beds, a tiny office
and a store cupboard for resources.
He stepped back out into the passage and Rae followed
closing the door behind her.
"First of all," Kallun said. "Have you had your own wounds
tended."
Rae nodded. "The major ones. I just haven't cleaned up
yet."
Kallun nodded, relieved that at least one of the team was
not seriously injured. "So how did it happen?"
Rae leaned back against the bulkhead and stared at him a
moment.
"Varess had moved the venue of the meeting three times.
She felt that somebody was trying to track her down and didn't
want to take chance. When we finally got together, it was in one of
the clerk rooms of level three - the admin. maze, they call it. It
seemed pretty safe, and, with the inauguration going on thirty five
levels above us, it was quiet.
"Varess's had two aides besides the councillors with her and
one of them had planted some sensors nearby so we were ready
when they came. I think everybody had brought gun's expect
Aliara." she paused. Aliara was not with them. Not here on the
Dragonsfire. Kallun sensed what was coming even though he didn't
want to admit he knew.
"Councillor Hathuri was shot in the head in that first wave
of attacks. So was one of Varess's aids, the woman. We retreated
through a pre-planned route Varess had secured before coming.
After that it was a case of rear-guard action. They wore black
masks and shadow-suits, we didn't, so they were hard to kill.
Sometimes, Aliara would hit them with psi burst and we'd get
further away, other times we'd just blast and run." Rae shrugged. "I
lost track of how long we did that for, I also lost our comm gear
after sending you the signal. None of us are hot zone operatives, it
felt like basic training again, only ten times worse.
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"We lost Aliara shortly before we got to the flyer. She was
doing another one of her psi bursts. Disrupting their thoughts and
scattering their brain patterns. She'd done several and I think she
was weakening. Her nose was bleeding badly and she could just
barely keep up with our run. There was a hail of fire and we ran
again. When I turned to see where she was, we'd lost her and our
attackers were too close to stop."
"Did she duck into a room or take another passage?" Kallun
asked. They couldn't have lost Aliara so easily. She was the only
hope he had of finding Vash.
Rae shook her head. "We were in a solid passageway on the
lower levels, using trolleys, boxes, crates, whatever we could find
for cover. There was no where to run except with us or into them."
Kallun felt his heart sink and the heaviness in his stomach
intensify. He pushed his feelings down. "Go on."
"We were following a strange route, but it confused out
attackers enough that they couldn't cut us off, couldn't anticipate.
When we got to the flyer I thought we were safe. We had just lifted
off from one of the goods pads when the flyer got hit. I don't know
by what. Still don't."
"'Portable particle blaster." Kallun said. "It was what kept
the security forces at bay."
Rae nodded absently. "'Make's sense," she continued.
"When the flyer went down, Sal, and Durne were out cold. The
driver and Varess's second aid were dead in the front of the flyer. I
was nearest the back with Varess. We got the smallest part of the
impact. The front of the flyer saved us. It was one of those
armoured Council flyers. They pounded it with their gun, but the
rear, where we were was right behind the damaged area. I think
Erran was on our side as not one of their follow-up bolts penetrated
the wreckage of the nose. Maybe it fused up. I don't know. But
when they tried to send men to take us out personally, Varess and I
had taken a defensive posture and took them out. They barricaded
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in, we held on for dear life and it stayed that way until you
arrived."
"No air support?"
"If there was any it was held off when the security forces
arrived. In typical fashion they wouldn't get actively involved
enough to come and get us. I suppose our attackers pointed their
particle blaster at any vehicle that did. I think they were waiting for
reinforcements."
"But we arrived first."
Rae nodded.
"How's Sal?"
Rae shrugged. "Crushed her legs in the wreckage, mid-
section's a mess. I wondered if she'd live through the ride back but
she made it. I pumped her full of Ikorphine and put her in a full
stasis field. She'll need a full work-up if she's ever going to walk
again though." Rae's eyes were glistening suddenly and she cursed.
Kallun reached out to touch her should but she pushed his hand
away.
"No," she said. "I'll be fine." She wiped at her eyes
smearing blood and dirt across her cheeks. "I'll be fine."
"Did we get anything from the councillors before the
attack?" Kallun asked when it seemed like Rae had composed
herself once more.
"Yes," she breathed. "Before the attack, as we talked it
became clear that Varess had already mobilised the colonial militia
as of two days ago and was mostly committed to armed opposition
before we got there. They've been purging the military bases too,
suspecting some kind of insurgency the same way we did. For her
the purpose of our meeting was to use us to convince Councillor
Durne to commit his force - he was mobilised but holding back,
and to encourage Hathuri to mobilise his own. We talked for maybe
an hour, weighing the possibilities, presenting our evidence of
Irache's duplicity with the council, his intention to seize control.
Aliara really came into her own then." For a moment Rae smiled.
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"She was very persuasive. We had about convinced the two other
councillors to full armed resistance when one of Varess's aids
suddenly signalled for every one to get down and get armed. It all
went sour from there."
She took a few breaths before continuing. "Varess & Durne
will both need a trans-light link once Durne's condition stabilises.
Varess needs to inform the Adillan's of exactly who killed Hathuri
and why, and Durne to put his own people on a state of alert.
Neither of them knew about the fleets at their borders until this
evening."
"I'll get Andreas to hook into one of our black-sats for
them" The black sats were a ring of operational trans-light relays
used by the sections of the government for secure communication.
"In the mean time we have a few minutes before we reach Mantian.
And, before we get into starting one war to stop an even bigger
one, you need to rest." Kallun pointed at a doorway not three
metres forward of their position. "There's a cabin right there. Get
cleaned up and put on some ship coveralls. That's an order."
Rae looked at him for a moment but didn't argue.
***
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normally did, but something Vash had said earlier nagged at his
subconcious.
There were reports on local temperature, air pressure,
humidity etc. analysis of the atmosphere, black screens where one
could display heart rate, body temperature, blood pressure and
various other biological detail. After a few seconds of looking at
each function he came across the counter. It was a device separate
from most normal chronographic timers in that it would not stop,
reset or restart as most timers should. It just kept counting down,
ticking away oblivious to the number of sensors Kallun brushed his
fingers over. He stared at it for a couple of minutes before
following a hunch and scanning the chrono once more. He knew he
had seen this sort of thing before somewhere. This time as he
scanned he was specifically looking for evidence an outside link.
That was when he found the particle sensor and made the mental
connection.
The counter belonged to the Decdroni, the commander, it
was linked to somewhere on an exact signal and was counting
backwards. Kallun had seen it before. Emrihsad warriors used
particle beams linked on trans-light to co-ordinate timed strikes.
If this was the same thing, then they had less than twenty
two hours until D-Day. The new Gedinnan.
***
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***
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the pressure ease. Rubbing his eyes and massaging his temples he
simply sat for a minute or two, his head in his hands, and let his
mind and body clear out the debris of the day.
Once his head felt a bit clearer he went over to the work
station, a desk with a fixed rotating chair and a holo-plate spread
across the top. Slowly he began drawing up a situation analysis, a
simple chart detailing events as they stood, actions being taken, and
actions yet to be taken.
The events as they stood did not look so good. Irache was in
power in the council, his opposition either dead or fleeing for their
lives. Alpha-camp was compromised and only three of the Seven
Heads of the Wind were in an operational capacity. Military
efficiency was most certainly compromised. The government
effectively belonged to Irache and six fleets of ships were standing
ready to engage the only systems that posed a realistic threat to the
new order.
On the other hand they had brought out two councillor's
safely, discovered the time of attack and began organising an
effective defence in some parts of Colest. If Varess got her way at
least two of Irache's six fleets would be met with pre-emptive
strikes. Others would not find their targets unprepared for them,
though the calls from Varess and Durne would probably be too late
for them to mobilise an effective resistance by tomorrow afternoon.
Provincial administrations were not supposed to have real military
power, and what they had they often hid. They would take time to
gather. Irache's attempt at power would not go as smooth as he
would have liked, that was some small victory, but it would still
work, in that area there was little they had been able to do in such a
short time. Nothing they could do now would stop him. He still had
all the cards in his hands.
The key would still have to be Seerak itself. If there was
some way they could organise an effective resistance on the
Homeplanet itself they would be in with a chance of seriously
upsetting the balance.
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***
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***
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The figure laughed and pulled back his hood. "Not really,"
said D'rethen. "It was before my time." He laughed again at her
shock but his laugh was cut short defending himself against the
katha that was aimed at his throat.
"I should kill you here!" Vash hissed, lunging and pushing
him back against the fire-place. D'rethen laughed and raised his
arms. When the point of the blade rested against his throat he took
hold of her hand gently.
"That would be difficult." D'rethen smiled and pulled the
blade down his own throat, its edge caressing his grey skin. Then
he turned it, point forward towards his heart. Suddenly he
wrenched the blade in her grip and thrust it into his own chest.
He should have crumpled like a rag doll. But instead he
stood there smiling. "I am touched by the Dragon's fire. It makes
me somewhat immune to your enmity."
Vash pulled her blade out of him and stepped back. There
was no wound.
"The servant who does not serve is at your service."
D'rethen bowed in mockery and laughed the louder. "Come." He
said as he rose. "My master wishes a word."
"No." Vash said stepping back further.
"You really have no choice." D'rethen walked by her to the
heavy wooden door. He waited a moment when she did not move
to follow.
"Look," D'rethen said. "You can either come of your own
free will or you can come after I've beaten you senseless and
dragged you to our destination. But I am sure you would prefer to
attend him with your wits intact."
He opened the door and gestured for her to go through.
Seeing little alternative, Vash stepped into the dark corridor
beyond.
***
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no psi, but she could feel the lingering presence in the room. Years
of prayer and study had taught her to know that sense of spirit
when she felt it. From deep within her a joyous excitement welled
up. She had never thought to witness it, but her senses left her with
little room to doubt.
As Rae and Andreas turned to leave, Varess knelt by
Kallun's body and placed her palm just above the forehead of the
immobile commander. Her hand hovered barely a centimetre above
the nimbus.
"Rae Erran drua nal," she said. The hand of Erran protect
you.
Varess stood, turned and left the cabin.
***
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in small panes and lined with lead. Each held together by hinged
frames. Two of them were open, causing the breeze.
Kallun pushed himself up from the floor, standing. He was
dressed in his combat suit, it's fitted black material comfortable
against his skin. The shields were inactive, useless, and there was a
weight on his shoulders and across his back that turned out to be a
blue cloak, trimmed with gold and white at the edge. It fastened on
a pair of golden clasps attached to the middle shoulder of his
combat suit. Across the chest of the suit there was a symbol. A
white bladed sword with a golden hilt set in a back ground of stars.
A strange combination.
There was a noticeable absence of a hood on the suit, and
feeling at his hip he could find no blaster, no sensor clip. In fact
nothing of anything that he would normally carry with him on a
mission. Instead there was only a mid length knife, sheathed and
moulded to the waist of his suit. He drew it. The knife had a white
blade, that was pearlescent in the light from the windows,
refracting many colours. It would have to do.
Replacing the blade, he went to the window first,
confirming his suspicion that he was high up. From the window he
saw the towers of a fortress reaching to the sky, level with his own.
They looked abandoned and decayed, a sharp contrast to the clean
and polished feel of his own tower. Below them a keep and a
courtyard were silent, abandoned. There were also barracks, a
stable and a gate house, all unused and rotten. The only movement
was the swaying of tall cages in the courtyard. It took Kallun only a
moment to realise that they were filled with bodies in various
stages of decay, some just piles of bones, others still warm and
bleeding watery death juices. He couldn't see faces, thankfully.
The landscape beyond was one of grey hills, pitted and
scarred with black splotches, the origins of which he could not
fathom. There was movement out there. A presence of creatures he
couldn't quite make out. Shapes in the distance, hugging the
shadows and making their way towards the fortress gate. They
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were some way off yet, but from this height it looked as if an army
of shadows were gathering to the fortress, drawn by forces beyond
Kallun's perception. He shuddered and looked away.
The sky above had been a grey-brown, the colour of
morphe-space. He wondered if there was some connection.
Returning his attention to the tower, there were two doors in
the room in which he stood. When Kallun tried the first one, he
discovered it led to a second chamber, almost identical in size to
his own, except that this one contained what appeared to be a
throne. Entering the room he discovered it to be circled by shields
of various designs, hung at intervals and filling the space within
with their presence. A cacophony of heraldry. Creatures long since
extinct adorned these shields in simple silhouettes, outlined in
white and gold. Each had words written along the top, some in
languages forgotten by time others in more recognisable script.
"'The Warrior Comes'," Kallun read. Translating the words
from a shield written in Kallorian, the major tongue of Emrihsad.
He guessed the others he could not read had similar inscriptions.
Below this circle of shields an array of armour lay, swords
of various lengths, sizes and materials hung upright below the
shields, above the armour piles. When Kallun tried to touch one of
these swords it would not move, as if it was moulded into the very
stone.
Approaching the throne, he discovered it be made of white
stone, veined in gold and cut almost without seems. It was also
inscribed in broad gold lettering across the back brace stone work.
Surprisingly the words were Raviran, the language his parents had
spoken to him when he was just a boy.
Shial, it read. The Warrior Comes.
He guessed that the room he had arrived in was an ante-
chamber to this one. A place of waiting for those wishing to
approach the throne. He had no idea who had or would use these
tower rooms, but the presence of long departed warriors, soldiers
like himself was tangible and, surprisingly, comforting.
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The throne room had no other exits other than the door to
the ante-chamber and he reluctantly turn back, passing the
tapestries to the second door he had spotted earlier. When he finally
managed to force the ancient hinges, the stout old doorway opened
onto a set of stairs that curved away below him in a sharp spiral.
The stairs were lit by small slit windows that let in light and
nothing else, offering no clue as to what lay outside. Kallun made
his way down slowly.
Placing his feet carefully, so as not to slip and fall, he
descended a distance of about forty metres. It was a long decent.
The stairs stretched out in their ever falling spiral below him, and
each step revealed the next hidden piece of darkness around that
descending curve. Occasionally there were other doors on stone
landings cutting off from the stair well, but when he tried them they
were all locked or wedged closed.
The further down he went, the thicker the air became, and it
seemed to him as if he heard sounds at the edges of his hearing.
Beasts cried from the hills beyond the fortress, strange inhuman
voices scratching the limits of hearing and thought, noises echoing
from distant chambers. Perhaps the army of shadows was closing
in. He couldn't tell and eventually shut them out. Concentrating on
his decent.
At length he reached the bottom of the stairs, where a small
landing was cut short by a thick wooden door. The only way to go
was through that door. It was bolted from his side. The bolts, thick
iron rods, lay flat across both sides of the door. They were stiff and
he had to strain to pull them back. As each one gave way with a
thud, the walls echoed the sound and a rich imitation returned from
spaces beyond. The wood of the door was warm to the touch, as if
heated from the other side, and it smelt of damp fire, the kind
Kallun had experienced in the colonial territories of his youth.
When at last he had removed all the bolts, he gathered his
strength and pulled on the latch. The door moved with aching
stiffness, as though it had not been used in an aeon.
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What hit him first about the passageway was the stench.
The air was heavy with a foreign odour that defiled his lungs. He
coughed involuntarily, looking down a stone corridor lit by torches
that burned a dim yellow. The obvious conclusion was that he had
reached the main keep below the tower and was now looking into a
passage either near or below ground level.
Here the stonework had a decayed quality to it. There was
none of the polished opulence he had seen in the tower. It was
pitted and scarred, eaten away by the soiled air over centuries of
neglect.
When he had passed into the passage beyond the door he
heard a creak and turned in time to see the portal slam shut behind
him. From the other side of the door he heard the thud of bolts
slamming back into place. There was no way back and at length he
walked onward, into the darkness.
***
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back to the life before this one. Think of the time when you met
with Erran before you came to your mortal proving ground. There
each soul received gifts and blessings to help them in life. For some
it was great talents, for others, a unique capacity for love, to one
was given indomitable will, to another the power to unlock the
riddles of the atom. But to a select group the power of the golden
thread was given. To these Erran gave power to comprehend
beyond the mortal realm that they might teach and serve. A kind of
preparatory priesthood, if you like, which should lead the seeker to
the service of humankind, and shine as a beacon for all the worlds
to see." He smiled. "So you see, you do have a priesthood of sorts,
and its light shine so brightly for those with eyes to see, that it will
draw my enemy to me, where our champions will do battle and
decide the fate of man. And, as it is on my terms, a little lizard tells
me that I shall win and conquer. Your beloved Kal will die, and
you .. well, we shall see."
The Dragon smiled. Then looked away as if reading
something from afar. Listening to things her own senses could not
pick up.
She noticed D'rethen was grinning at her. He leaned over
and whispered in her ear. "Wouldn't you just die to be me." He
chuckled. Vash shivered. There was a dark power in D'rethen she
had never sensed before. Something that had facilitated his
incursion into morphe-space and that drove his bravado now. She
didn't know what he meant by his statement but she didn't like the
sound of it. Every second she stayed in this place made her feel
defiled.
With a start she realised the Dragon priest was frowning.
"He is come." He spoke to D'rethen. The shadow runner's confident
grin dropped.
"So soon?" D'rethen said. "How? We are watching all the
communion chambers."
"He arrived in the tower."
D'rethen cocked his head. "So she is helping him."
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***
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the Chief had not let the situation get as far out of his hands as he
would have liked Irache to believe. The far side of the fourth planet
did not just hide the Brillania, but a fleet of Colest ships that had
been kept clean from Gaeran influence. Masked by wide field
dispersion, blind to the world and the world blind to them, Dukall
had been planning to order an attack for two days hence, confident
that if he could regain control of Alpha Camp, Kabel
communication and the Council Chambers the rest of Seerak would
follow. He had thought to keep Irache's hands off the Council
Chairmanship with a pre-emptive strike, securing the government
in what he would later call 'security exercises'. Now that he had the
new time-table he would have to move fast to maintain any hope of
surprising the Heresy forces before they could dig in and
consolidate their new position.
When Rae questioned him on the situation at Alpha Camp
he simply shrugged it off. The camp was well prepared for
declassification and they had taken measures a long time ago. No
foreign power would exercise control along the peninsular whilst
those measures were effective. The highly advanced and equipped
base had suddenly developed a string of debilitating systems
failures and personal problems for its new owners. They could take
it back easily. It was the government he was more worried about.
Fleshing out details Dukall placed the Dragonsfire,
commanded by Rae Sven and piloted by Andreas Raktalus, with
the so-called Alpha Fleet. Their role would be to penetrate the
planetary defences under cloak and knock out the ion net that could
be spread across the planet at any given moment along with the
twelve orbiting missile platforms. After that they would assist in
neutralising security fighter squadrons and surface defences. They
could land and deliver their wounded to back to camp another time.
With Durne returning to stasis after his wounds re-opened, Rae
only hoped they would escape with enough power to keep the two
injured parties alive that long.
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***
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But here the passage had opened out, its roof extending
upwards towards the top of the doors which were three times the
size of any he had encountered previously. They were double
locked with interconnecting bolts and carved with dark murals of
suffering bodies and twisted beasts. They were different from any
of the others, which had been plain dark wood.
When he approached the doors the locks slid back of their
own accord. He stepped towards them once more and the doors
opened smoothly towards him, filling the dim passage with yellow
light.
Ahead of him a vaulted passage way stretched. To the right
was a wall of scarred stone. To the left a line of square pillars
merged like a wall down one side of the passage. It stretched for
over a hundred metres until it came to another door, similar to the
ones open before him. The light in the passage came from
unknown sources beyond the pillars, and made the view in front of
Kallun stripped with light and dark.
Moving on past the doors, he immediately turned left past
the first pillar and walked out into the Great Hall beyond. The
sense within him told him this where he was meant to be.
He was struck by three things at once. First, the presence of
the priest in black and blue robes, standing by D'rethen and Vash
on the near side of two bowls of moving lights. Second that they
were all looking at him as if they had been waiting for his arrival.
And, thirdly the immensity of the hall, its ancient and decayed
architecture.
He walked towards the three occupants of the hall. His heart
beat faster when it became clear that D'rethen was standing guard
over Vash. From their positioning it looked as if the priest had been
questioning her.
When he was about half way across he saw Vash move
suddenly. With her leg she aimed a kick backwards into D'rethen's
robes. It connected sending D'rethen sprawling back towards the
pillars. Vash drew her white knife and lunged at the unnamed
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She smiled back, tentatively, her head still ringing from the
kick and a little surprised at the warmth of his greeting. She was
pleased nonetheless.
"It's good to see you too." Vash took in his appearance close
up. His face was grave, but set in stubborn defiance of those that
would challenge him. Seeing in this reality she found tears of pride
threatening to break free from her eyes. This was he. The Kalshial.
The prophesied warrior. Erran's chosen champion.
Kallun looked at the Dragon and D'rethen. They were
watching the two operatives with interest.
"Do you know how to get out of here?" Kallun asked his
partner out of the side of his mouth.
Vash shook her head. "Last time I in this place it just
happened."
"When the Dragonsfire jumped. I know. I don't think it'll be
doing that soon though. Besides, I didn't come here through
morphe-space."
Vash looked up at him. "Then how..." Kallun stopped her
with a raised hand.
"Another time." he said. "Perhaps we should see if we can
get back to the tower I arrived in."
"That will not work." The Dragon said.
"Oh?" Kallun looked directly into the beast's eyes. "And
why not?"
"The tower door only works one way. Things come out of
the tower, but they never go back in." The Dragon shrugged.
"That's just the way of it."
"Then we'll find another way out." Kallun said. "Perhaps,
one of your communion chambers? I am told you have them nearby
somewhere." Taking Vash by the shoulders Kallun turned her
towards the doors that were opposite the one he had entered by.
Behind them the Dragon laughed. Suddenly a plume of
white hot fire spread in front of the two operatives. The heat was
momentary but terrible. Kallun felt like his head had just been
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shoved into an oven. He shielded Vash with his arm until the flame
dissipated and then turned back to the Dragon. The creature was
puffing smoke from it's wide nostrils and grinning.
"It's impolite to leave when you have only just arrived." The
Dragon said. "Do it again and I will do more than blow smoke over
your heads."
"What do you want?" Kallun said walking right up to the
beast. "I have no time for these games. War is about to break out on
my homeworld and I would like to be there to make sure the right
side wins. Somebody told me it was rather important that I get
there on time."
The Dragon laughed. "Your war means nothing. Your lives
mean nothing. Soon the gate to my freedom will open. And I will
ride its power to my destiny. I shall use it to bind my soul to an
immortal body and rule in the realms of men."
"So get on with it." Kallun said. The creature still seemed to
fear him, watching his dagger with a wary eye. He wondered if he
could use that to his advantage.
"I would. But I have one small problem." The Dragon
shrugged. "And that's you."
Kallun saw the attack just before it came. He'd been
watching D'rethen's movements, and he knew that the shadow
runner was planning something. He had loosened his robe, showing
the shadow suit underneath. When he sprang at Kallun he left it
falling to the floor.
D'rethen flew at his enemy with all the speed of a
highworlder in flight. Catching the blow with a falling roll, Kallun
sent the dark warrior spinning over him. Landing easily the shadow
runner turned on his heal and faced Kallun. His shadow suit was
similar to Kallun's own combat suit, but like Kallun he had no
shield generator and no hood. The long bladed dagger each of them
carried would be enough to penetrate with or without shield.
D'rethen lunged at Kallun who caught the blow and sent a
swipe across D'rethen's cheek.
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Vash had seen the attack and was about to warn Kallun
about D'rethen's power over her own blade, but then she saw the
trickle of white blood, running down the shadow runner's cheek.
She closed her mouth. Kallun's blade had some power her own
didn't. Even the Dragon feared it. She had no idea what it was or
where it came from, but it seemed to be the only weapon in the
room capable of doing damage to either the Dragon or his dark
servant.
Kallun and D'rethen circled. Testing one another's defences.
As circled the Dragon spoke.
"You are my bane, Kalshial. Every prophecy, vision and
revelation concerning this time said that you would rise when the
technology of my ascendancy became available. In every one of
those prophecies you are the symbol that stands between me and
my freedom. But you need to be at the battle to stop me. And I
don't intend on letting you get there."
D'rethen charged, forcing Kallun back. When he tried again,
he found himself toppling side ways with Vash's boot in his chest.
She was about to follow the blow through when she saw a flash of
red and found the breath knocked out of her. A single great claw
closed around her midsection piercing the skin, and pinning her
arms to her side. She was bodily lifted from the field of battle.
The Dragon raised her to his eyes, forcing Vash to look
away, tears streaming.
"I make the rules here," he said, his breath scolding her
face. "And you have no part in this game. So stay out of it!"
Locked in the claw of the beast Vash could do no more than
watch as D'rethen bore down on Kallun, forcing him back with
superior skill and a knowledge in the art of katha combat that was
second to none. The Commander didn't have much of a chance.
***
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it would get the snivelling bunch of sycophants out from under his
feet.
He went to the thick, long window of his bedchamber and
glanced out. The one way crystal view was filled up by the
Tabernacle, backgrounded by the distant swarm of Kabel's
commuter belt. Flyers already streaked the sky. Above the city,
beyond the floating blocks of environmental stabilisers the sky was
a glorious blue, and Seerak's single moon still shone sliver white in
the morning sky.
Up there somewhere the Dragonsfire flew. And for the first
time in the months since Irache had commissioned its construction,
he did not know where she was, or what she was doing. He shook
his head. She had been the most perfect of all the ships, built by the
Institute's finest craftsmen. Against her six Spawn born sisters, she
would have shone. A suitable offering for the Dragon's birth.
Perhaps, if a miracle occurred, she would still be such. Today all
things that had once been would be no more. The status quo would
be shattered. And so few would know about it until it was too late.
He checked his chrono. Two hours to go. The Gedinnan
fleet would be just about assembled now. Making the last
adjustments before going into battle. His squads would have spent
the night moving into positions where they could seize their targets,
Irache's opposition leaders, his chosen vassals waiting in the wings
to take over on any world or province that might have defied him.
They were all out there. In the time it took to take a slow shuttle to
Brell, the sea state on the far side of the planet, everything would
be complete. He just needed to make sure. A few more minutes and
he would return to the Dragon's realm. Even the Dark Lord's host
would be gathering for the battle by now, ready for emergence.
The attack would be three fold. First the Gedinnan fleet
would make its move. Their attacks would disable all the provincial
states with significant armed militia. The damage would be
superficial, a few million deaths at the most, but it would be
enough to get the attention of Colest. After that the sabotage of the
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military machine. The major vessels, the largest bases and even
some of the minor bases and smaller fleets would find their
Captain's gone, their Commander's deposed and known opponents
to the church dead in their beds. In some bases his men were the
commanders anyway and they would simply ordered their men not
to move and await instruction. By the time new instruction came,
Irache would be installed at the head of the Council, and the
Assembly would be appealing to the Church to take control of the
administration of Colest affairs. The documents for that move had
been drawn up some time ago.
Finally there would be the civilian strike. That would
involve a direct assault on political leaders in the Provincial states.
Those who had taken a stance against either the Heresy or the
increase of Church control. They would be removed. Some would
die. But most would be rounded up and shipped out to the Sypstra
desert planets, at the tip of the Galactic arm where the jump stream
ran at its slowest.
This three fold strike would neutralise the present
administration of temporal affairs and the effective threat of
military reprisal in both the Armed Forces and the state militia.
The test would be the response of the people. Support for
the Church was high and Irache was confident that the new
administration would find favour in their eyes. There might be riots
at first, some groups riot about anything, but security forces would
quell them and when the Dragon emerged, they would cease.
There was a chime from the chamber door. A member of
the Tricend entered from the study. It was the large Sakijri that had
been with him at the Council Chambers the previous afternoon.
"Draco Padech," he said bowing low.
"Rise and speak." Irache didn't bother turning from the
window. He could see the Sakijri's reflection clearly enough.
"You have received a communiqué from Chairman Fraque,
dread Patriarch. It is labelled as extremely urgent."
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also meant that Fraque sometimes had delusions that he was still in
control. Working with the Chairman was always a delicate task.
"If you tell me what this problem is then maybe I can help
resolve it." Irache said calmly.
"I'll tell you the problem all right." Fraque nodded. "The
problem is that now you've sent your forces off to do your bidding,
we've left Seerak defenceless!"
"Defenceless?" Irache said. "I would hardly call having
planetary defences at our beck and call, being defenceless. You are
still Chairman of the Council, you do still hold the key to that
defence net in your golden trimmed pocket, I presume."
"Planetary defences don't go as far as the new stations.
They'll cripple us! They're inside the system barrier even now! For
Erran's sake, they're right on top of us!"
"Exactly who are we talking about?" Irache was still calm,
but increasingly worried.
"Dukall and his fleet! That patack has a fleet hiding behind
the fourth planet and there's nothing I can do about it!"
"Impossible." Even as Irache said the word he knew it was
possible. Colest Fleet Arm was immense. There were ships
unaccounted for by his own forces. Dukall could have assembled
them if he had planned well enough in advance. He could have
hidden them around the system over a period of several months
without Irache or the government noticing. It would have taken
planning and a lot of foresight, but it could have been done. Irache
realised he had underestimated the Alpha Camp Chief.
Fraque was swearing again.
"Enough!" Irache's voice caused the Chairman to stop in
mid sentence. "How big is the fleet?"
"Forty seven ships, we can't get men close enough to make
an exact count but they have just left the cover of their field
disrupters and entered battle formation."
"How long before they arrive?"
"They'll be at the outer Stations in less than thirty minutes."
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prison, and loss of life brought the Dragon's realm closer to this one
than at any other time. Every prophecy said that Gedinnan would
be accompanied by war. Irache had simply tried to make sure that
the war was kept as far away from Seerak as possible. If that was
not to be so then he could live with it. The coming forth of the
Dragon would turn any battle back his way in the end. But Irache
needed to be in power by then. Erran had stated from the beginning
that only a man could turn over the government to the rule of the
Dragon, he could not claim it for himself. Irache had to be that
man. He had to maintain his power otherwise all would be chaos.
He did not delude himself to the effect the Dragon and his minions
would have on the human realm if left to roam unchecked. The
government would give them purpose and direction. And by
attacking Seerak, Dukall put that all in jeopardy.
As he sat thinking his comm panel bleeped again. Another
urgent call. He hoped it wasn't Fraque again. Punching in the
receive signal, he noticed it was a translight signal. When the face
appeared in his display it was floating in the grey-mist of morphe-
space. It was Paul, D'rethen's second in command, aboard the
Serpentdawn.
"Dread Patriarch," he said. "We are under attack."
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With a clarity that startled her she saw in her mind's eye a
passage of the mysteries:
"The shialla shall have fire in her hand when she faces the
darkness, and the fortress of night shall tremble in its light."
The words had meant nothing to her once, but now she saw
their meaning as though they were emblazoned across the sky.
Forming the image in her mind she summoned a ball of
searing blue light in front of her face. Then, with a surge of will she
blasted the ball straight at the Dragon's head. Her captor had turned
his attention back to the duel before him and didn't sense the ball
coming. It struck him in the left eye with a force that knocked his
head side ways. And sent Vash sprawling on the stone floor. Free
from his grip.
Spreading his wings in anger, his left eye now blackened
and burnt, The Dragon roared and turned.
His wings knocked both D'rethen and Kallun to the floor as
he turned, stalling the duel. Vash knew there would be no exchange
of pleasantries with the beast this time. Only oblivion. In an instant
she had another blue ball hovering in the air above her.
"No!" The Dragon's words hit her like a hurricane,
knocking her to the floor and extinguishing the ball. They were
followed by a blast of fire that consumed her as though she were a
dry twig.
***
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with it's huge claws, knocking Kallun away, and gouging huge
wounds in its own thick hide in the process. It took all of Kallun's
will to keep hold of his weapon when he fell once again, hitting the
stone with a sickening thud.
Instantly D'rethen was open him once more and Kallun was
forced to defend himself against the shadow runner, whose anger
was now almost as apparent as the Dragon's pain. Mercy was
abandoned. Form and skill, cast aside. Now it was to the death.
***
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saboteurs would now make their move as soon as they were ready.
The War had begun, and begun in earnest.
Sat in his command chair, he had been inundated with
reports. The loss of contact within Alpha Camp had been expected.
Nearby decagon's had reported fire fights underground, before they
too had disappeared off the network. A few minutes ago several
squadron's of Warrior flyers had been sighted emerging from the
Alpha peninsular. However, the satellites tracking them had in turn
been attacked by black sats.
Irache was being blinded slowly on his communications
network. Satellites were going down around the planet. He could
only assume that the network of devices used by the covert
operations sector had been armed and mobilised. They were killing
both public and business communications even as Irache moved. It
was the net Irache relied upon and he was losing it.
From his tie into the planetary defence net he had seen the
launch of the interplanetary missiles against the stations. Any
second the station sensors would pick up an unmarked fleet
approaching them from one side and a series of missiles streaking
at them from Seerak on the other. They would have little chance to
respond.
Of course the media had gone into a frenzy. Some of them
had shots of the squadrons of Warrior flyers skimming the surface
of the ocean, heading for Kabel. The security forces had been put
on full alert and outside the Great Halls, the flash of warning lights
pulsed across the city. The lights hadn't been used since the last war
and people were panicking.
How quickly things changed.
Reaching the Communion Chamber, Irache entered and
went straight to the morphe-pod. Burying himself in the morphe
flesh he was floating in the grey brown mists in a matter of
seconds. Assuming his hajdrac form he dived into the mists
seeking the gate and the Dragon beyond. He had to see the Dragon,
had to know if D'rethen had been successful in bring the Kalshial,
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had to try and speed up the emergence, let the Dragon know the
gates would open any second now. His heart was hammering and
his mind was alive. This was the day, and already it was riddled
with challenges. He should have seen the counter attack. Perhaps
thirty years ago he would have. But he had been forced on the back
foot and now he needed the Dark Lord in order to ensure that they
would be victorious.
***
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am free we shall all rise together. Your homes shall be our resting
places and your bodies our playgrounds!"
Kallun didn't take his eyes off D'rethen. He tried to push the
presence of the creatures to the back of his mind. But the image of
them mauling Vash's body kept crawling back.
Closing the gap between himself and shadow runner he
spoke directly to his opponent.
"This is foolishness, D'rethen. Let us part peaceably."
Kallun said, using the Dragon's own tactics to distract his foe.
"Ha!" D'rethen laughed.
"What do you hope to gain in this fight?"
There was just two metres between the two men. D'rethen's
eyes narrowed, remember that scene in Irache's communion
chamber.
""This day I call you enemy of my soul." remember?"
D'rethen sneered. "Blood to my poison." He lunged. "Flesh to my
sword." This time he hacked across Kallun's guard cutting him
once more. "Meat for my hunger!"
D'rethen struck. Grabbing Kallun's blade arm he tried to
twist it round. Kallun responded with a rolling punch that sent fire
up his own arm. His fist burnt where it had connected with
D'rethen's right cheek.
In their weakened state the fight was getting scrappy.
Kallun followed up. Not letting D'rethen out of his reach,
kicking, punching and slashing. The shadow runner bounded,
somersaulting over him. Kallun spun barely in time to stop
D'rethen from plunging his katha between his shoulder blades.
Again they matched one another blow for blow. Until the
Dragon struck the stone floor and roared.
"Enough!"
D'rethen skipped away from Kallun's blade, his back to the
Dragon.
The Dragon moved and Kallun's heart skipped a beat when
he saw where Vash lay dead still on the floor. Kallun had no idea
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what the effect of the fire had been, but she didn't appear burnt and
he dared to hope for her life.
Sensing his thoughts the Dragon nudged her with a claw.
"A strong mind" he said. "It is a pity I had to kill her. She had
potential." The beast grunted. "D'rethen, your shadow runner ethics
are admirable but they have no place here. Destroy him. Don't toy
with him."
"She will come if the fight is unbalanced." D'rethen said.
"Let her come!" The Dragon roared. "I am wroth with her
now as never before and I shall slay her as thou shalt slay her
champion!"
D'rethen looked straight at Kallun. He shrugged. "You
fought well."
The shadow runner's formed blurred. A moment later
instead of his shadow-suited enemy there stood the dark knight
Kallun had first met in morphe-space. Kallun took a step back,
realising that D'rethen could have killed him at any time before
with these kinds of powers. Only some strange set of rules had kept
him from snuffing Kallun out like an ant underfoot.
"I'm afraid you must now die." The Dragon sneered, and
laughed. "Kill him."
There was the briefest pause.
Kallun standing, bleeding white blood, his grip tight on a
dagger stained with both D'rethen's and the Dragon's blood. His
clothing ripped, his cloak discarded early on in the fight. D'rethen
dressed in his armour, knowing his powers were sufficient to crush
this man, disappointed that he had not been allowed to do so in
even combat.
Kallun had faced such a situation only once before, in a
simulation game. There were very few defences.
When D'rethen went to draw his sword, his armour gleamed
as black as a starless night. Kallun was no psi. There was no way
he could summon steal as D'rethen had done. And because of that
he chose the only course that came to mind.
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***
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writhed and watched D'rethen's passing until there was nothing left
of the shadow runner except the circular orb of his intelligence. The
orb winked out before anyone could move.
And then he was gone.
Kallun rose on shaky feet. The Dragon, wounded and
angry, was growling, a rumbling spawned in the dark depths of his
body.
Thinking quickly Irache formed a sword in his hand. In this
realm he was as powerful a warrior as D'rethen had ever been.
Kallun was facing the Dragon and could not possibly see him. With
all the creatures around the hall Irache was just one among the
many. It would take a single stroke to strike the Kalshial down
once and for all.
The commander's body glowed with energy. The after
effects of the kill. Irache moved.
He felt the force of the blow about the same time as he saw
the burning blue light. It filled his vision the instant the ball struck
him, square in the chest.
Kallun turned in time to see Irache blown against the far
wall, sword in hand. Quickly he followed the line of fire to where
Vash was standing, sweat pouring from her face. The Dragon had
followed the same line.
"You are dead!" He cried.
"You are not the only one who can use the Mysteries." Was
her strained reply. Kallun wondered how much of her strength she
had used staying alive and firing that fire ball. Was her body even
now dying in the Dragonsfire? He didn't have time to wonder. By
some miracle Irache was getting up. The blacked hole in his chest
closing even as he rose.
"Stay where you are Irache." The Dragon commanded. "He
is mine." The beast sprang.
Kallun saw it but there was no where he could move fast
enough to avoid being hit. The world filled with red and he felt a
crushing weight hit his body. He crumpled to the stone floor and
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found himself pinned between the two forepaws of the great beast.
Its head was above him, its breath washed over him, blistering his
skin. It's eyes were full of hate, a violent rage that made Kallun
tremble inside. He had nothing left to fight with. His white dagger
had stuck in D'rethen's chin and was now lying out of reach. He
realised that when he had let go of that blade he had left himself
open to the Dragon's power. The creatures of the hall were jittering
with excitement.
"No!" Vash screamed, a sword forming in her hands. She
ran at the Dragon ready to hack off his limbs one by one if need be.
A casual flick of beast's wings sent her crashing into a nearby
pillar, the world spinning and darkening as she fought once more
for consciousness.
"Kalshial." The Dragon's head descended. Jaws wide, teeth
ready to rip Kallun apart. "Die."
Kallun couldn't help but turn his head from the descending
jaws.
He felt the peace of the moment before he felt the blow. A
white blur passed over him and the world exploded around him.
The weight was gone from his chest and in that instant he was sure
he was dead.
***
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The white beast was now nose to nose with the Dragon.
"Only thou wouldst believe that! Thou art a fool, Lural! All that
thou hast is allowed only for the testing and trial of man. If thou
durst step beyond thy bounds before the appointed time I will crush
thee!"
"I will rule on our Father's throne! I will be victorious at
that day!" The Dragon retorted, but Kallun and Vash could both see
that his body was trembling under the weight of his opponent. "My
kingdom shall be born of blood if needs be, but I shall rule!"
"All the blood of all the earths will not set thee free." The
white beast snarled. Above him Kallun could see the fabric of the
Hall fading, the dark swirl of a vacuum was opening in the air
above the two beasts.
"The Gedinnan fleet has cloaked and gone into battle."
Kallun whispered, sensing the fracturing of space. The tearing of
realities. This was the Dragon's way out, the gate to the realms of
men, just above him. It might as well have been an eternity away,
for the might of the white beast stood between the Dragon and His
escape.
"Thou knewst from the beginning that thou wouldst fail."
The white beast said. The Dragon squirmed in his grasp. Writhing
and screaming.
"Release me! Give me my freedom!"
The white beast still held him and the Dragon's flesh began
to smoulder. He was burning under the weight and power of his
opponent.
"The realms will heal in a few moments. Just as we built
them too." The white beast never took his fiery blue eyes off his
enemy. "This was never to be thy way."
Above them the stones of the Hall faded back into view and
the vacuum receded. Seeing his escape route disappearing the
Dragon let out a long cry.
"No! O Father! No!"
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***
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Earlier, Yarrin had come to demand why the fleet had been
mobilised without his knowledge. He had found the door locked,
but he had ways around that. When he entered he had sensed the
darkness that had gathered around D'rethen's body. The shadow
runner's frame almost entirely hidden in an unnatural night.
D'rethen seemed to be lying the grip of some power even Yarrin
could not comprehend. He wished he had time to study it but
instead he had watched with immobile fascination as the darkness
around him grew to encompass the room, robbing it of both heat
and light.
Then, as Yarrin watched, the cuts had appeared. First on the
cheek, then at various points around the shadow runners body. His
nose streamed blood, and his body convulsed from time to time as
if it had been hit. Then the final cut had torn open below his chin.
In the darkness Yarrin sensed rather than saw the death of the
shadow runner. The violent arc of his head that sprayed blood
across his body, the subsequent convulsions and then the final
slump of flesh that had severed the golden thread and given up its
controlling spirit to realms beyond their own.
"There is death here, Shadiim." Yarrin's own shadow runner
stood at his shoulders. "We should leave this place."
Yarrin looked back at the man whose face he had never
seen. The shadow runner had been given to him by Irache. And
now that Yarrin's work was concluded he wondered what this man
would do. He looked from the body on the bed to his own
companion and guardian.
"And where do you suggest we go?" Yarrin smiled grimly,
he sensed what was in the air. "Or was I ever really to leave this
place alive?"
"No,. my Shadiim," The shadow runner shook his head. "It
was the Dread Patriarch's wish that once the fleet launched I sent
you on your journey through the white gate."
The shadow runner walked past him and bent over
D'rethen's body.
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***
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***
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"Aliara?" he said.
She smiled. There was little warmth in that smile. "Tell me
uncle. When you had my father killed, did it absolve the pain of
killing the rest of your family?"
"I never planted that bomb!" Irache backed away. She was
tearing at his mind as she spoke. Vash's fire ball had weakened him
and his shock lowered his defences. Suddenly she was inside his
head. He couldn't push her out.
"Really? But you sent your patak into the subs to rob take
my Father's power and his life."
Irache cried out in pain as she dug out the memory. He
hadn't planted the bomb. But he hadn't objected either. And he had
sent D'rethen to the subs.
"As I thought," she said. "As matriarch of Hiera I stand to
judge righteous judgement." She stood over him. He was unarmed.
His spirit weak. His thoughts incoherent. "Thou hast killed without
mercy, hast turned the Holy Church into a whore house of crime
and apostasy. Hath sought power through covenant with the Dark
Lord and led the children of the Originators in the paths of
damnation. Thou art guilty, for the Lord Erran hath spoken it. I
stand to sentence thee."
***
The Tricend heard the scream. But when they ran to the
Patriarchal Chamber there was no one but the patriarch, and he was
lying face down on the floor.
***
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Epilogue
"Gedinnan has come, and we are yet living! The Dragon
has sought freedom and bought chains that we might have peace!
The voice of Erran is heard in the stars saying. Beware o
ye people of Seeral. What ye have seen this day is but a shadow
and a warning. For Gedinnan is not yet, and the great and last day
is not come. For the Kalshial must live and his seed must scatter
across the heaven before the final day of destruction, where the
wicked shall burn as stubble and the righteous shall be lifted up
and enter the White Gate to receive their inheritance from my
Father, who is Father of us all.
Therefore go to. For the last day is not yet at hand.
Nevertheless, watch and pray, and guard the gates of the otherness
with diligence that ye be not moved from off the holy place." Exract
from the Book of Askal, Chapter 25 verses 98 - 100.
"The first war of Shial, also known as the Three Day War,
is famous as being the shortest in Colest history. Lasting only as
long as it took to contain the legions - a task eased greatly by the
apparent death of their Patriarch and the earlier identification of
Gaeran operatives within the military. The legions were few
compared to those of the Colest military, and, once the Fleet Arm
was mobilised, they were easily defeated.
What caused the death of the Dragon Patriarch was never
determined, and has been the foundation of rumour, legend and
resurrection theories across the centuries.
Lives were lost, and the battle for control of Kabel lasted
for over twenty four hours. But the loss of life was small in number
comparative to other wars both before and after this conflict. At the
end of the conflict at least three of the Gaeran fleets had
disappeared into unknown hiding places.
The resistance movement of Kieran Dukall, Varess Bayann
and Durne Turol was hailed as heroism of the highest order.
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***
Dragonsfall. 2039 Eastern Counties Standerd (CKT +2)
Kallun sat on the porch of the cabin looking out across the
open lake. It was late autumn and the colours around the edges of
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the lake were striking. The enviro-enhancer hummed on the far side
of the fields, raising this weeks crop and ridding it of a plague of
tick flies that had descended on them a couple of days ago. The sun
would set shortly. Framed between the arc of the mountains either
side of the lake, behind the cabin, it would shed its deepening glow
on the water's surface and fill the valley up with rich orange light,
before dropping behind the western ridge.
He still had to unpack his bag of climbing gear yet. A
present from the Chief before he gave Kallun two weeks leave. But
he didn't want to miss the sunset. There were just a few minutes to
go.
Fingering the ring on the third finger of his left hand Kallun
contemplated its meaning once more. It was a simple white and
yellow gold band. A circle of yellow sandwiched between square
cut white gold. He had noticed the unfamiliar weight on his finger
after the battle of Seerak. He had no idea how it got there, but when
he came to take it off he found that he could not. Vash had
discovered a similar ring on her finger. He had found her staring at
it in her cabin after the battle. There were tears in her eyes, but
when he asked what she thought it meant she only said that she
would tell him another time.
They had hardly seen each other outside of the work place
since then. There had been too much to do.
He heard the approaching hum of a flyer and wondered if
Andreas had forgot to tell him something, but when the vehicle
crested the top of the mountain ridge and came diving down the
valley towards the cabin he noticed that it Andreas’ flyer. The
smaller vehicle was flown by a driver somewhat more careful than
Kallun's old friend.
As the sunlight crept into the valley and gave everything
that rich orange hue he loved so much, the flyer landed at the side
of the cabin on a patch of open ground. The pilot's door opened and
a woman with a large carry-all bag over her shoulder walked up the
slight slope to the cabin to greet him.
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THE END
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5 Watch for the sign, o ye people, when the wind shall rain
destruction upon the third moon of Deckran, and ye shall hear
words from the wildness, even the dread voice of the Dragon's fire.
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421