Lomakkeen yläreuna
Chapter 10
To the Temple of the kings
"Hey boss, what if they're already planning an expedition for it but aren't telling us, I've also heard that the boss man's going back to space?" Asked the ruddy furred Raccoonoid, aptly named Eir 'the red' Longfellow, who was accompanying Roork at the personnel cafeteria of the Aerie.
"Why'd you think that? They've no effin reason to hold the info except the fact that it's ludicrous to think there's some kind of sinister plot going on to keep us from going. As far as I'm concerned Guardian Ranger's a big damn hero and if his going to fly off into space it's for a reason." Roork counters though he has to admit to himself that they really hadn't been allowed see their leader nor his kit in days, once they had been released from the brig, and the 'suits' had been very tightlipped about everything when asked. Which, while not necessarily alarming, was still peculiar since Rocket had emphasized how time was at the issue with his plans to defeat the invaders from space and as far as Roork could see Rocket had done nothing wrong in leading their rag-tag band of guerillas. In fact, if the rumors were true, his wasn't even the only one. Roork had heard whispers of at least one other band of survivors besides theirs that was fighting back.
"I don't know boss, I guess I'm just getting itchy and bored." Eir sighs raking the long reddish forelock back from his eyes, a characteristic which had gained him the moniker -red.
"I know. Tell the guys to ready up, we're leaving tonight with Junior lieutenant Underhill but we do it quietly. I want no hassle with the govt. people and most positively to void any kind of shootouts. I'll see if I can get in contact with boss in the meanwhile and if not... Well, I'm sure the Guardian Ranger would agree that we've got more pressing matters to attend than waste and wait for the end holed up inside this worthless relic of a bunker." Roork says lowering his voice in conniving manner.
"You're saying that his staying here of his own volition and we're just leaving him behind if he disagrees?" Red frowns disbelievingly.
"No! Of course not, but neither am I going to do anything hasty until I've seen him or gained a word from him, besides I don't think they could hold him up against his will if he really wanted to leave." Roork says shaking his head.
"Yeah, the boss-man isn't a one to be chained and probably wouldn't want us dicking around with his plans... Though I'll still say this is a fool's errand." Eir the Red agrees disgruntled and Roork can hardly blame the man for getting impatient or disbelieving in the legend of the Temple of the Kings.
Temple of the Kings was a myth, a camp fire story, no more than a hoary local legend at best which Underhill had somehow dug up from the archives. It was patently stupid to place your hopes on something like that, but he'd given his word. Given it in a guilt-ridden moment after nearly braining the poor lad but to Roork it made no difference. What was given was given and wouldn't be taken back.
"You're off to find the what now? Rocket asks looking up at Roork from his work, clearly expecting an explanation. "The temple of the Kings, somewhere in the valleys of shade. It's a huge depression caldera with mountainous ridges and deep gorges crisscrossing it. Surrounded by arid region called the great desolation at the centre of the continent."
"Sounds like a wild goose chase to me." Rocket scoffs dismissively. "It probably is but I've given my word and what if Underhill is right and there really is some kind of super weapon there, left by the makers?"
"I doubt it, Myceians aren't known for leaving much artifacts behind, aside from some musty records and empty ruins." Rocket counters.
"Myceian?" Roork mouths.
"You call them 'Makers' which is fairly accurate term to describe their civilization at its peak. Creation and shaping was kind of their stitch, particularly the shaping of life... They held much territory around here, including Keystone quadrant -which was close to the heart of their assumed place of power, hence the name Keystone quadrant. I'm fairly sure they were the ones who created the great Galacian wall as well, just before the fall of their empire."
"What happened to their empire and how do you know all this?"
"Nobody knows for sure. At some point all forces were called off from Keystone and other areas surrounding their home system and then they were no more -or at least all surviving records end there, and their race vanishes, almost as if they'd never even existed. Even the name and location of their home planet and system have been lost, in fact even the name Myceian is under dispute. It was given by a race called Ariguan and in their language it simply means "threat from beyond the suns". As to how I know all this. Well, I used to be something what professional archeologists derogatorily call as Tomb raiders, a professional treasure hunter, if you will. A less risky side job than bounty hunting to fill my time when there wasn't any immediate crisis or big bounties going on. Though I've mostly given up on those two vocations since we formed the Guardians of the Galaxy."
"Well, I'll be sure to bring you a souvenir if we find anything, boss." Roork smiles dryly.
"You'll do that, and I'll be sure to give you a nice cut after we sell it. Intergalactic museums and collectors pay top price for anything that's verifiably Myceian artifact." Rocket says and Roork gives a small mischievous wink in return.
For the first time after confronting his boss Roork really started to pay attention to what his superior was doing -fiddling with that strange armor of his and stuffing some choice things of his from the table on to a burlap satchel. "So, you're really doing it? Going back to space, I mean. I'd hoped you to come with us."
"I have to go get help, Roork. We can't beat them on our own without outside aid -or rather not fast enough. I'm also going to need a favor from you." Rocket says sounding resigned. "from whom and what kind of favor? You've said yourself that we're cut off from the rest of the galaxy."
"The Badoon are here in force which means there has to be a way out for them as well... I'm going to find it, fly in an automated communications buoy, use it to get a subspace message through for my team and then get the flark out of dodge before the Badoon notice what's going on. No way in hell am I going to dogfight the entire Badoon armada with that tiny shuttle. It's a big risk... So, in case I won't make it -someone's got to care for Trey. He knows you and the others. I feel it would be best if our people could take care of him."
" Aye, I'm sure there's no shortage in our people who are willing to do that." Roork nods approvingly. "Sounds like a plan then..." Rocket then gives him a thoughtful look before sliding the burlap satchel over the table. "What's this?" Roork asks accepting the bunched-up satchel. "Just some things I've cobbled up and figured you could use to help you on your way." Rocket says nonchalantly. "Much obliged." Roork thanks with a nod after peeking inside. He rises up and clutches the satchel against his chest. "Noted. Now get going. I fear we won't have much time left to waste." Rocket says dismissing him.
He wanted to let Trey know about his decision regarding the kit's parenting in case of his father's demise, but he couldn't find the kit anywhere. "Probably wandered off to somewhere to sulk." Rocket decided with a small sigh. The kit had slowly gotten bored and developed a habit of hobbling around the base, exploring it and getting lost despite Rocket and many others trying their best to keep the kit happy but there was no way around the fact that Trey had no one else close to his own age to play with at the base. Rocket was on a schedule and couldn't really spare the time to look for him properly, so he did the next best thing by informing his people about the decision and that Trey had wandered off again. Despite everything, Rocket wasn't really worried about his son getting into trouble or danger. Most people in the base genuinely liked the kit and there was no way he could sneak out without being noticed.
"No goodbyes or well-wishes. Wow that's cold." Rocket joked to Samase who was watching him putting on his suit. "I could ask you to be careful out there and all that, but you already know it, so why bother?" She says as Rocket picks the newly repaired helmet from the table and walks out from the locker room and to the hangar area with her.
"It's the principle, a sign of care, doesn't really matter if its repetitive or needless." Rocket says, "Well how's this for a principle, hero?" Samase says suddenly grabbing and kissing Rocket deep on the mouth before taking a few steps to back away from befuddled Rocket. "I can get behind that principle." He says, still smiling as he places his helmet on before climbing into his ship for takeoff.
"Ships!" Rocket gasps strafing hard but still almost slamming into them when he clears the upper atmosphere. He zigzags through the enemy fleet in break neck speed, disappearing like a ghost, unseen and unknown. "So many!" On the surface he'd assumed the new lights as comet clouds. "Thousands of them." It wasn't the vast armada that stunned him but that they were here at all. It shouldn't be, couldn't be. Even if one maybe two troop carriers would get through, it was one time only chance, but this... There was no way they could've crossed the wall in such force.
Rocket bit down the rising despair he felt was building. The further he travelled, the more endless the Badoon fleet seemed to be. Stretching beyond his sight and sensor range in long snaking lines like wagon trains to the stars. He knew he couldn't evade their fleet for long, not even with the cloaking device. So far it had worked because the Badoon hadn't expected anything like his ship coming out from such a backward planet and they had been unprepared for it.
There! He knew it! They hadn't gone through the wall! They'd gotten around it! Rocket though with much elation when the great dark jagged rift at the end of the endlessly long column of ships came to view. Somehow the Badoon had got their hands on dark energy-tech. The energy spike signature and visual cues matched but how the Badoon had gotten the tech wasn't as important as getting the message buoy out and through this artificial rift that had been ripped into very fabric of space & time. Even just a short pulse from the buoy should be enough to get the Guardians and Nova to the scene. Fly it in and get out, that's it.
The reason he was hella nervous was because the moment he'd launch it, his ship's cloak would drop and dropping it in the midst of the Badoon invasion fleet was asking for trouble.
"Fuck them!" Rocket decides, finger hovering over the switch commanding the buoy launch. This would be one of the few moments in his life where he really wouldn't mind 'dying for the cause'.
Three days on the road. Two days of driving without stopping aside from changing drivers to reach the edge of the badlands of the Great desolation, made Roork vividly recall why he'd always disliked travelling by cars. "Well, we're here. Where to now?" He sighed rhetorically, looking at the vast expanse of arid wasteland through the windshield. Deep ravines and snow topped peaks looming before them beyond the steep rocky rim of the gigantic depression. They'd stopped by to refuel their vehicles and to properly rest for the night before the real hardships would begin. There was no use taking the vehicles down to the bottom of the depression and the unpredictable updrafts and uneven ground made flying down too hazardous for planes and hovercrafts.
"Shit... Should've brought some fucking wings or something, ya know." Tam Two-trees complained irritably.
"Gliders would've been handy, yeah." Roork agreed dismounting the vehicle.
"If I'm reading this detector-thing we got from the Guardian Ranger properly. We should be able to locate the Temple within a few days at the most." Underhill nods waving the brick-sized thingy with an LCD-display in front of him.
"That's nice... what about those verses you found from the archives, they matching like at all?" Eir grunts revealing his deep-set distrust with high tech in general.
"The verses spoke of finding the eagle rock at the year of the fox and to follow the sound of the black bells into crescent canyon... Whatever that means." Underhill admits lowering the energy spike detector.
"Guess we'll just have to figure it out as we go, now won't we?" Roork says before walking off to boss people around, still sitting at the two other vehicles, into laying their camp site before it got dark.
"Well good thing it wasn't a red rock at dawn..." Tam huffs commenting on the fact that pretty much the whole basin seemed to be composed of that same banded reddish hued sedimentary rock as far as the eye could see, giving the depression its quite depressing look from which it had gotten its name. "Hue, hue, hue. Mock all you want." Underhill grunts not finding the youngling's comment all that funny.
Eir the Red might have been a bit of a luddite at heart, but he was by far the finest ranger & tracker Roork had ever met. Between the time it took them to set up their camp and sun to set, Eir had already wandered off and back, found and brought down three game birds and some kind of furry critter. Bringing them back to camp with him. Animals whose species Roork didn't even know.
"Well, it certainly seemed to be a good eve for hunting." He commends at his subordinate's haul. "Nah, I actually got a bit lucky with that Pompanole rat." Eir shrugs and starts to dress the game ignoring the admiring stares for his catch. The fresh game meat proved to be a wonderful way to raise spirits. They'd all gotten tired on their forced diet of canned preservatives and cereals already.
"You sure this is it? looks pretty steep, I'm not even sure if we have enough rope..." Roork asks from Eir, looking down dubiously at the steep slope Eir had proffered as being their best route down. "Yeah, I'm sure boss. You're right that there's not enough rope to get all the way down but we should only need to climb two-thirds down with it anyway and then tie a new line. I'm pretty sure I can see a route down for the last third already."
"Which way, Underhill?" Roork asks folding his topography map open on one of the more flat-topped stones for the others to see, setting stones on the corners to weight it open.
"Well, this part here looks promising... It's higher ground than other parts of the depression floor and the ravines form a sharp sickle curve about here..." Underhill says tracing the map with his fingertip.
"A day, maybe two on foot. though I don't like that ridge cutting through there, it's marked as pretty rugged." Eir comments tapping the spot on the map.
"Well it's not like there's much choice if we're going to be there and back in time..." Two-trees nods.
"Okay then. You four, Longfellow, Underhill, Two trees and Lowlander, you're with me. Hold the fort until we're back Greyle. If we're not back in three days. We probably aren't coming." Roork orders placing his trust to Eir's so far impeccable wilderness skills.
"If mister Raccoon's right, it won't even matter whether you come back or not if there's nothing to find..." Greyle replies pessimistically.
The bottom of the ravine they lowered themselves in was just about as uneven as it had seemed from above. Great Raccoonoid sized boulders dotted the bare banks of the dry river bed in every direction.
"Shit, I hope it doesn't rain often here at this time of the year." Eir comment crunching his brows.
"Why? You hate getting wet or something?" Lowlander asks peering at their surroundings with slight disinterest. "No Arik, I just don't like being in a deep ravine when it starts to rain hard. Flashflood's no joke." Eir grunts back.
"You sure it's there, Vren? I mean really sure." Roork asks sharply from Underhill who stops staring at the energy signature detector Rocket gave them and nods almost painfully. "Yeah I'm sure. Both the map and this detector point beyond that landslide, which used to be the "eagle rock" I wager seeing how it has toppled down all the way from up there." He points at the cliffs some fifty feet above where it was obvious that some kind of large boulder or cliff-side had been before sliding down to block the ravine.
"Ohh goody." Lowlander grunts looking dubiously at the huge pile of earth and boulders blocking their path in to the next ravine. "My words exactly. It also looks unstable." Longfellow says after a moment of scrutiny. "And no time to find another way round. Aww shit, just get the gear ready boys. We're climbing over it." Roork orders, feeling exasperated at the setback and suitably wary of the prospect of having the mound collapse when they're climbing over it.
"Nah, it's no use boss. There's nothing to stick the pitons where they'd hold." Eir denies after dropping back on the ground after the third try of attempting to attach a line on the mound with rock pitons. "Great, so we climb without it. Damn it." Roork orders spitting on his palms for show. His trope gives him a wary look before agreeing with sullen muttering.
Eir ascends first to show the route for the others and to attach a line on top to help climbing once he gets on top, followed by Underhill and Roork while Arik -being the heaviest would climb as last. "Hey guys, this rockslide's smaller than we thought but really loose so watch it!" Eir calls, who was already on top and had thrown a line down after finally having found a suitable spot to attach it. "Acknowledged!" Roork yelled back just as he saw Underhill's grip slip on a loose stone above him. He acted without thinking, grabbing his falling companion just as he was about to tumble past and held on to the rope for his dear life as the whole mound side fell down from under him… until a chunk of falling stone conked him out causing them both to tumble down at the no considerably less steep slope.
"Oh shit! Oh shit, Hey Boss, come on man. Don't be dead!" Both Eir and Underhill mumble frantically as he came back to his senses. "Yeah, yeah, I'm alive... Arghh! My arm! watch it, damn it!" Roork curses loudly when Eir & Vren are digging and pulling him free from the loose pile of dirt he'd been half buried in. his head hurt, and scalp was bleeding, and right arm had probably been broken. Vren and Eir were pretty much the pictures of health in comparison. Eir was merely dusty and his ankle was swollen while Underhill had cuts and scratches all over but nothing serious it seemed.
"So, what about Arik and Tam are they...?" He asks already guessing it while getting a sip of water and having his arm taken care of by Underhill who was surprisingly good with it.
"Yeah, Lowlanders a true flatlander now. Tam's okay, though he dislocated his shoulder, but we fixed it. He went to get some water from that pool we saw earlier" Eir sighs sadly and vaguely points at the mound.
"There's no digging Arik out of there without an excavator." Vren agrees.
"Think you can continue, guys? 'cause I ain't climbing for shit anymore." Roork admits tiredly.
"I can barely walk ten paces without a stick, my ankle's totally busted and Tam won't be holding from anything with that shoulder of his until it heals". Eir responds sitting next to Roork with a heavy thud. They both turn to look at their only able member Vren Underhill.
"Well, I guess this it then guys?" The young man nods gulping loudly, realizing that the whole mission is now on his shoulders.
"Get going lad, there ain't much light left." Eir reminds him and hobbles over to collect some dry twigs to set a meager fire for the night.
"yeah, we ain't coming. Good luck. Take all you think you might need." Roork reminds Vren, throwing his and Eir's packs towards the still dithering officer. Vren licks his lips before nodding and grabbing what usable was still remaining in the packs after being crushed by the rockslide. He makes a quick military salute before leaving and disappearing into lengthening shadows.
"Think he'll make it all the way, boss?" Tam asks as he sets a dented mess kit to hang over the fire to boil some water for tea.
"Depends on how far that blasted temple-thing actually is from here, assuming it actually exists... To be honest, whether he makes it or not -which I sincerely hope, it's out our hands either way. We've done all we can to ensure it." Roork admits accepting a cup from Eir who sits down next to him.
He practically drags himself up the endless steps, hearing a cong going on inside his head. He takes a ragged breath and reaches for the last step to drag himself over with his arms when a hand grasps them and helps him to stand up shakily. "I am Saren the Maker. Welcome. I've been excepting you for some time." The figure greets throwing back his hood. The figure does not speak yet he hears him loudly.
Vren looks up at the giant in brown hooded rope. Pale hairless arms, man's arms. He noted off-hand without really registering it. To his credit he doesn't scream, panic or really even gasp at seeing this most alien looking being. Despite the alien features of his host, his somehow most certain that his host is much older than he is and means no harm. Vren Underhill nods silently and begins the final stretch through the open gates to the temple of the Kings and the fabled rings of the nine virtues.
He stumbles lightly as he exits the last ring. he looks around him, it's almost dawn. He knows he should rest now, perhaps say something profound, words to be remembered. The feeling passes. Words aren't needed -Words that everyone once used felt now obsolete, and so are the deeds of great men whose names were once on everyone's lips. For all things fade away, becoming the stuff of legend, and are soon buried in oblivion.
The parting words of Saren the Maker echo in his mind as he descends the same countless stairs that once brought him up to heavens.
"Mind you, this is true only for those who blazed once like bright stars in the firmament, but for the rest, as soon as a few clods of earth cover their corpses, they are 'out of sight, out of mind.' In the end, what would you gain from everlasting remembrance? Absolutely nothing. So, what is left worth living for? This alone: justice in thought, goodness in action, speech that cannot deceive, and a disposition glad of whatever comes, welcoming it as necessary, as familiar, as flowing from the same source and fountain as yourself."