Chapter Five: The Massacre
Silently they moved through the sparse underbrush. Bodies moving to either side of him kept time with his own quick pace. He glanced one way and then the other seeing his Clan all around him. He smiled grimly, sucking the humid air through his teeth as he ran. He listened to the soft clicks barely carried by the dense atmosphere. They relayed quickly instruction, direction, and distance in tongues he knew well. They were close now, so very close to their next objective. They were closer still to beginning a much needed cleansing of this world. They would instigate the factions that existed, get them to fight each other and when it all was done the planet would be theirs.
It would be quiet, peaceful, devoid of the electric hum that emanated from their communication equipment. Gone would be the roar of plasma drives as the space fairing ships came and went from their many destinations, and the noise of hovercars as they passed like well fed krratla between the trees near their home. It would be returned to the way that it was, the way that they remembered it. That was so very long ago that it was only a shared clan memory, passed genetically to each successive generation. He would make it that way again. He had shown them how, now the Clan just needed to put it into action.
He pushed on leaping over and pushing aside branches until the objective came into view. Vines grew heavy over the opening between two tremendous slabs of rock that marked the entrance to the caverns. It was hard to make out in the eternal twilight those precariously balanced boulders, odd because not much rock was found in the deep forest. Again somewhere in the long dimmed past these had been moved here, peeled from the baked and flaking skin of the planet's mountain desert.
They had been placed here to mark the Haven, to welcome the weary travelers to the safety of the caverns that bored deep into the ground. That had been its purpose upon conception before their brethren had taken to the trees finding easier living conditions above most of the life that threatened their existence. The Masters had followed shortly thereafter, dropping down from the sky and taking large numbers of the then simple planet-bound hunters for their own gains amongst the stars.
He paused watching as the rest of the clan pounded on toward the stones marking their next conquest. They easily dispatched the several sentries near the gate, hidden amongst the tree boles and leafy ferns. He smiled wickedly in satisfaction, as they fell without an alarm being raised. The Clan was good at this kind of hunting, very good, better than the Brethren ever were.
The Brethren had forgotten what it meant to be amongst the living earth, forgotten how to commune with and live off of the bounty of their own lands. Tantalized by the Masters with the unbelievable visions of other worlds teeming with prey to hunt, they had become bored with the prey on their home planet. The Brethren had taken the technology forcefully from the Masters and used it to break through the gravitational well searching amongst the stars for ever greater challenges. It was now a dogma that ruled their hunting patterns and shaped their lives.
The Clan had renounced that way, remaining with the traditions that the Brethren had forsaken, learning from it and profiting from the experience that it gave them. In turn they had been shunned by their former brethren, left behind by the advancements that widened the gap between their cultures. He looked again at the Haven, it had been theirs not so long ago, less than fifty rotations had passed since they had been forced out of the last bastion of their traditional homes. They had been ousted by outcasts from the Brethren's souring society, outcasts that cheated death by running from their own strict code.
The swarm poured through the narrow opening to their newest target. He listened as the alarm finally sounded, too late to save the Brethren residing in the Clan's ancestral home. The battle cries were deafening but could not smother the screams of dying Brethren and the elated clicks of Clan at the ease at which they had overcome the group residing within.
He stepped in watching as the Clan danced about the pile of dead bodies at their feet, they took their quota of heads and retreated uncaring of the survivors left behind. They would wonder… who would do such a thing? Then they would come to the obvious conclusion, that the general population had done this, that they had reached out from their distant city and smote them, to check their growing population, to keep them in line. They would gather what was left of their forces and retaliate against them, taking the Brethren one step closer to oblivion. That thought warmed him with pride, their progress was great, they had succeeded where past generations had failed.
Courtney shifted again in her saddle realizing just how old and spoiled she had become. It used to be that she could ride for literally days before feeling the first hint of stiffness or soreness in her body. They had been on the trail for four hours only and already her back was arguing against further travel. She grinned to herself, how ironic.
They had concluded their business with Donona nearly a week prior, straightening out the misunderstanding between them was one of the few challenges they had faced during their stay there. The largest had been the next course of action to take in finding who had accomplished such well planned and executed attacks on both Taysa and Donona. Eesa Oana had been quick to suggest leveling the areas that they were known to be hiding. Many of the Ot Eesan agreed, and despite their own protests the motion was carried. The Taysa Taru had come away from the meeting disappointed. They had agreed that the Rogues were the next, most likely suspects in the attacks, but did not agree that outright aggression would solve their problem.
Quona had quietly ordered them to intercept the Rogue leadership, to talk to them about the attacks and the suspicion that had been placed on the rogues themselves. They had to make haste however or they would be beaten there by Donona. The Ot Eesan would certainly send one of the surviving ships into the area dropping a large number of Soua to finish off the threat that the Rogues posed. Courtney thought it an excuse, a convenience that gave them the power to wipe out the group once and for all. Quona was intent to keep that from happening, to even enlist the Rogues help if they were not responsible. Enlist them to help root out the source of this current problem.
So here they were. They had stopped by Taysa on the way to the most well established Rogue encampment at Gui'Yata's request. There had been someone there that he insisted they must bring with them if they were going to be successful in the contact of the highly volatile group that made up the rogues.
Courtney looked past the many swaying Yimhi bodies from her own short mount to the Soua in the lead of their group. Gui'Yata had introduced him as Popau, which meant sapling, a former rogue who had been pardoned recently of his crimes and had come to live at Taysa where he would more easily be accepted. She had thought him a child when she had first met him, he was barely taller than her and thin. It was as if he had stopped growing before his second rotation.
His diminutive stature was the reason he had become a Rogue. He had been deemed too sickly to ever become a thriving hunter and it was thought that the resources offered were being wasted on teaching him. His Souata had slated him for Grapada, euthanasia, or the closest thing to it in this society, a quick and relatively painless death at her own hands. Somewhere deep down he had rebelled against that verdict, though he had always followed the code before. That was before it had become a personal sacrifice, and he found himself not wanting to die so soon in his short life. The very night he had been given the verdict he escaped the crèche. Rogues kept eyes and ears in the cities it seemed, looking for disgruntled or shunned citizens to swell their ranks. Crèches were prime grounds as often Soua society rejected sickly or deformed Saru before they could become warriors, and before they could pass on their traits to weaken another generation. An agent had tracked him down shortly after his escape and offered him life amongst the Rogues.
Popau's coloring was much the same as Endra's had been, very scarlet stripes and speckles over his body and his hair had the same color barely discernable under the glossy smoke gray. Courtney wondered if they might have been dammed by the same mother or sired by the same father. Both had been originally from Donona. His eyes were startling compared to most of the Soua she had seen, they were bright yellow, and no hint of orange graced his eyes. It was eerie.
He had not said more than ten words since they had left Taysa, seeming introspective about this return to the Haven. The shelter it seemed had a long history, one that even the Soua themselves could not recall all of. It now housed the rogues in fine fashion. It was well defendable even from heavy assault as had been proved many times in the past. No attempt to root out the Rogues and erase their presence from this planet had been successful.
Courtney thought again about the Rogues, and in turn she began to think about Sora. Shortly before their party had left for Earth Sora had reluctantly confided in her a secret. It seemed that he had been approached at some point after his unfortunate accident, by a Rogue representative and was offered a better life amongst them. But that had been a point in his life where he had been adamant about returning to the society that had treated him so badly. Sora had been determined to become a proper Soua, and he had been insulted at the Rogues offer. Sora had killed the Rogue, as the code had dictated outraged that they considered him so weak and turned the body over to the Huada.
Sora had been so reluctant to admit that to her, afraid to lose face even in her eyes. He had been carefully watched after that, both for any further contact and for any signs that he might consider the offer and leave.
Courtney felt that pang again. It happened every time she was reminded of Sora. There was always that part of her that would feel guilty about him, about the way that he died. She constantly tried to answer the questions that rattled around in her head, was there something more that she could have done? Were there signs of regression that she had missed? She had noted the signs of his returning dementia when it was too late to try and reverse them, when he was mortally wounded and offered himself as a sacrifice so that they could win free of the planet and return here to Soona. They were regrets that would be with her the rest of her days.
Courtney refocused her eyes as the party came to a halt and her Yimhi did likewise nearly running over the mount in front of her. She looked up and past the group her jaw dropping slightly at the sight that now faced them. Two enormous stones, great rectangular slabs nearly four yards wide leaned against each other in precarious balance. They looked at any moment to come crashing down Their great red hides were obscured by the pulpy green vines draping nearly to the ground in front of the entrance. The mouth of the entrance was dark, though Courtney thought there should have been some light burning there. Then again why? There was no need for light for the Soua, they would be perfectly comfortable in pitch black. The hills to either side were lush with thick low-lying growths, ferns and fungus alike thriving in the half-light under the high and tightly woven canopy. She knew that they had arrived at their destination, just by the odd stones which were not of this area.
Gui'Yata, on his mount moved up beside her, "So this is the Haven," Courtney whispered without looking at him. She heard him grunt distractedly and she looked over at his face seeing a look of concern on his face, "Gui' What's wrong?" She asked in English
He frowned, "There are no sentries about," He looked down at her finally, "And it is too quiet. Something is wrong here." Courtney's gaze whipped back to the dark entrance to the Haven, only a curiosity before, now Gui'Yata's observation made it a foreboding sight.
Slowly Popau moved forward again picking his way slowly to the vine draped entrance. His Yimhi ducked the vines and he pushed the curtain aside as it slid down the bird's hide. Each in turn did the same finding Popau stopped just inside the entrance staring into the dark. Courtney could only puzzle what they were looking at, for it was too dark for her to see unassisted. She reached into the pack behind her pulling out her mask and powering it up she put it to her face. She gasped at the devastation those infrared images showed her. Bodies were strewn about haphazardly left where they landed upon death. The smell of houta was in the air and the remnants of fires fought the bedrock for purchase, slowly losing ground to the material that refused to burn. Here again were the signs that had been constant throughout the attacks. No bodies of the attackers were present, though it would be hard to tell rogue from their attackers, none were known to any of the party.
Popau slid from his mount, stepping through the bodies searching each for any signs of life, his small body was rigid as he regarded the scene all around him. Slowly the party around her dismounted and she did the same, grimacing at the feel of pooled blood beneath her feet. It was so deep that it overcame her low sole and oozed in between her toes. All around her there were headless bodies and again trophies were taken from any and all that the attackers had killed.
She moved between the bloody piles nearer where Popau now stood staring down at one of the bodies near the back of the entryway. Courtney frowned wondering what was so fascinating about this particular one. She watched obliquely, not wanting to be caught intruding on the warrior. He already was uncomfortable around her, and she knew that he did not like her because she was a Clusu in Taura's clothing. The small Soua crouched down over the body one that was slightly taller and heavier than he was, he began clicking and whistling softly, and she recognized the sound as lament for the dead. She looked over again as he reached out to the body moving the fleshy strands of hair away from the face of the Soua. He then moved his hand to the outstretched arm of the warrior still clutching a sasa and slowly turned it over. There was a scar on that arm, a bonding mark, and Popau turned his own arm over, his hand balled into an angry fist exposing the matching scar on his own arm. Courtney drew a shocked breath in and quickly looked away as the Soua's head whipped her direction, she had covered her social slip by act pretending that her reaction was over the misshapen form of one of the Soua that had been killed. After a few moments she heard him return to what he had been doing, his lament beginning again. Courtney slowly turned back around watching him from the corner of her eye as she stooped occasionally to look through the piles of bodies for any that might still be living.
He was signing something over the Souata's body and then he reached down again, pulling an ornament from one of her dreadlocks. He then stood quickly detaching himself from the fallen bondsman and turned Courtney's direction. He caught her as she helplessly stared at him, unable to look away from him, from the pain she saw ill hidden on his face. Courtney straightened still staring at him, and slowly he took the ornament rolling it between his slim fingers and placed it on one of his own fleshy strands of hair pushing it up high on the lock until it was even with his eye. The act had cut him and slowly a green line of blood moved from the ornament down to the tip of the strand of hair. His hands fell to his sides as he continued to stare at Courtney. Courtney said nothing, but instead signed a formal sorrowful phrase for his loss, the sign of quick passing to the next hunt. He blinked as if surprised at her knowledge of the silent phrase and then nodded once solemnly. Popau moved quickly away after that showing no other signs of his loss.
The losses suffered here in the Haven had been greater than any loss so far, whoever had attacked here it seemed had succeeded in wiping out the entire Rogue population of the area. A feat even Donona's great number had not been able to accomplish. Courtney had discovered several survivors amongst the hundreds of dead at their feet. She had done what she could for them, ill prepared to deal with another massacre, only bringing her basic Soyasa kit with her. She was going to have to return with a full kit later in the day, and fervently hope that they would survive so long. Courtney had stayed behind tending the brutal wounds of the several whom had survived the massacre. The rest had gone off to search the large complex of caverns and tunnels.
Courtney sat back as she finished the last stitch closing the foot long gash in the Abdomen of the not quite conscious Soua she was currently working on. She wiped away the nervous sweat that had beaded up on her forehead. The others had been gone now for several hours, and her situation here was disappointing to say the least. She and the others had moved the ten survivors to a small cul-de-sac off the main entrance, a place away from the bodies and free of the stench of houta and death. They had lit torches so that she could work more easily with her visual sight on the few Rogues still living. She had been treating them ever since. Now only four were left of the original ten, and she saw signs from several of those that told her that they would not make it to the dawn. Again she was reminded of how much she hated this part of being a Soyasa, she tended to be way to empathic of their pain, and took each death personally. Several of them had died even as she had worked to save them, to stop their bleeding and their pain. Now she was weary, weary from the work, weary from the death, and tired of what seemed to be the longest day of her life.
Courtney sighed looking about her at the shroud-covered bodies of the Rogue Soua around her, she looked down with tears in her eyes again. She sniffed and shook her head putting a tight control on her emotions, as she had perfected so well since coming to live on this world. She had noticed something of the warriors and Saru she saw about her. Nearly all of the Sougra and Souata, with very few exception, were older, and had one or another deformity that would limit them as a hunter. Most of the Saru were normal healthy youngsters, sporting few of the infirmities of the older Soua she saw here. But there seemed to be few in between the two generations of Rogues, few teenagers, fewer young adults, and those she saw at those ages possessed deformities of their own. Surely this colony was well enough established that many generations should be living here together. She began to ponder the implications of that when a soft scuffing sound drew her out of her consternation.
Courtney whirled around, Sraha extended and sword in her other hand, unsure of what she would find lurking in the dusky passages at her back. She slowly moved away from her charge, hoping that this was one of the party finding their way back to check on her. She wished that she had time to put her mask on and illuminate the person intruding on her work. She stood tensely at the ready, for long moments no other sound was heard and she could detect no motion. She heard the scuffing again nearer her but still outside of the circle of light the torches had created for her. There was a dull thump, followed again by the dragging sound and slowly a figure lurched into the wan light.
It was a Soua, but not one that she recognized. He was old, at least Quona's age, grizzled and grayed, but unlike Lyonas this Soua was stooped over with heavy scarring across his back some of which extended over his right shoulder. His right arm was a shriveled bony appendage shorter by a third than his left arm ending in a hand that was stunted, stubby, and clawless. Strapped to that wrist was a rigid knife nearly as long as the arm it was on, in some semblance of her own Sraha but not as elegant. His locks were nearly ornaments free that only a few actual bone rings on the locks that were nearest his cheeks. It seemed that the scarring on his right side was related because the right side of his face was a mass of twisted flesh taut against his skull and jaw. Instead of having two independent mandibles of that side of his face he possessed tusks that grew from the skin at odd angles where the end of the mandible should have been. There were several fresh cuts on the old Soua's body speaking tales about his encounters with he attackers.
He showed neither regality nor arrogance, which was something that she had been used to seeing in the older Soua, especially of the Ot Eesan. He looked confused seeing her standing there, but only for a moment. With speed she had not credited to his handicapped body he rushed at her holding the wrist blade stiffly at his side intent it seemed on skewering her. Courtney reacted instinctively leaping up high as he reached her narrowly avoiding that blade. She lifted one leg high and brought it down at the base of the Stooped Soua's neck flattening him to the deck. She backed away quickly out of his slashing range seeming to predict the backhand from the old Soua trying to take her ankles off at the joint. He leaned back onto his haunches and deftly jumped to his feet and twirled to face her in the same motion.
"I do not want to fight you, Eesa," She said in a low carrying voice, using the formal title for one who was sure to hold the position. He looked at her with only a momentary shock before hunching into a low defensive stance.
"Have you not done my people enough harm," He growled, "You would come and hasten the deaths of more of my warriors?"
Courtney squinted at him, "I am a Soyasa, I tried to help them."
"You lie, Clusu," He hissed, "You try to cover your treachery with false acts of good will. I have seen what you have wrought, you cannot lie to me. I saw with my own eyes what you did here."
"I have never been here before Eesa," She said lowering her weapon and retracting the Sraha blades.
"It had to be you…" He insisted, none of the conviction lost from his voice.
Courtney tilted her head and was about to inquire what he meant when two large bodies streaked past her to tackle the older Soua. She heard the bodies land with a loud thump and she recognized Gui'Yata and Quona pinning her would be assailant to the deck. The tackle had knocked the older Soua unconscious and when they were sure that he would no longer pose a threat they stood up. Courtney jumped despite herself as two more Soua bodies stepped up next to her, she glanced quickly up sighing as she saw Nobaya and Tomakaya standing next to her. Beyond them Popau stepped into the light looking down on the scarred and unconscious old Soua at their feet.
"Bahlana," He said quietly moving over to the older Soua's side.
Quona straightened at the sound of that name, "Bahlana?" Lyonas repeated quietly looking down on a face that he had not seen in nearly three hundred fifty years