Chapter 3
Confusion
Anyone near Torik did a double take to the corpse and back to Torik, then repeated the process. Both male and female investigators and scientists fainted at the sight as well. And Shane stood frozen.
Torik, the Torik, was different from the body lying before them. His hair was the same dark blond, his eyes the same hazel-green, but the hair style and how he stood was highly different. Torik held two separate locks of a higher streak of his dark brows lining the edges of his face. His eyebrows depicted an expression of extreme calm and satisfaction.
"Downstairs. Now." Shane ordered, MPs flanking him.
Torik turned calmly to Shane, a small, gentle smile now forever riding on his face. "As you wish." He answered politely.
As they were leaving, Shane reached out and touched Trunks' arm, "Find Bra and a Mitchell Skos, Aidam's alleged second-in-command for this analysis, then join us." And they were out the door.
Bra was leaning with her forehead on her office window, fresh rain streaking down it. Trunks appeared in the doorway, but waited for her.
"What is it, brother?" she asked, unmoving.
"You miss him don't you?" she closed her eyes. He sighed, "I never got to ask, how was the dance?"
"Ah," Bra laughed indignantly, "it never happened. He wasn't there when I got back."
"That so?"
"Bet that makes you very happy, huh?" she spat at him.
"Analysis in the lower wing. Your presence is ordered. You wouldn't believe who just showed up." As he left he called back, "You know the way of course!"
Mitchell was having a nervous but pleasant conversation with Maron in the West Hall, near her workroom.
"Ha, ha aha, well, didn't he ask you?" she inquired.
"Well, yeah, he asked me to come."
"Why didn't you say 'yes', Mitch?" her tone changed a little.
Mitch chose his words carefully. "Yeah, he asked me to come with him, me being his sort of second-in-command, but I told him that I was, sort of, finding a life here to stay with."
"He would've taken you into space! Outer space!" Mitch only shrugged and shifted his weight. Maron leaned back a bit and lightly shook her finger at Mitch, "Now, see, last time we met, after we had dispersed with pleasantries and all the technical stuff, you went on and on about space and how you just wanted to get away from this world."
"Well, that was, before, you, came along." Mitch worked out each word as if it were sticking to his tongue. Maron leaned further back and gave him a look that asked, How so?
Mitch stuttered now, shifting his weight more rapidly. "No, I mean, uh, what I mean is, uh, when you came along with your skills and order, and, and you put together...the suit. The suit just, was, amazing, you had put stuff in that I didn't tell you, to put in, and I never got a chance to thank you. I mean, the-the shock absorbers, the enhanced speed, all-all of them were pleasant surprises." He let out a quick sigh and unsure smile.
"Gotcha." Maron laughed at his effort.
"Mitchell!" Trunks dashed in from the west wing. "You're needed. East Wing, underground. I've already collected Bra for analysis." He turned his eyes on Maron. "You're allowed to come too, Maron, but you'll have to remain aside. No questions."
"Understood." Maron nodded. "But I'm coming."
Trunks looked back and forth at them, eyes wide. Well, what are you waiting for? "Let's move." He turned on his heel and strode east. Mitch and Maron exchanged looks and followed.
The interrogation room was a door, a glowing white walkway leading into a circle where the accused would stand. Also from the door to either was one row forming the circumference of the bright circle that met at the highest podium, where Shane now sat, with Trunks to his left and Christopher to his right, both on slightly lower podiums. One colossal spotlight shone down on them, but mostly on Torik, who stood in the center of the circle. The only other lights were blue tinted, as if for an eerie effect.
Mitch and Maron entered in silence as Bra asked the first inquiry, "Can you straight out prove that you are indeed Torik Stronkhold?"
"I proved that the other is an imposter." Was the relaxed answer.
"But you could also be the same." Hyle piped up.
"I am of Venoson, where Torik was sent by his father, Aidam. My father."
"Do you know of his recent actions?" Trunks chimed in, ready to tear into any relation to his rival.
"Of him taking a large section of your officers and infantry into space using a starship jumper christened the Freeshade? Yes."
"Do you justify them?" Trunks became a shade darker, oddly. Bra looked over to him, wondering what he was getting at and what this had to do with Torik.
"Do not condone my father's sins against me." Torik returned with tranquility.
"You don't support his actions?" Trunks was trying to get something out, but in vain.
"His actions do not reflect my own. You showed us this with your own actions many years ago." Trunks was silenced. "But it seems your rivalry with Aidam has blinded your own memories."
"Enough!" Shane yelled, but Torik was done.
"What exactly are doing here?" Mitch spoke up.
Torik turned to him, softening at this new voice. "First I came stop the interception of our message to you."
"In order to do that you'd have to knock out an immensely powerful satellite beacon to free up the air waves enough. And we all know that every beacon is heavily guarded." Hyle shot out into the room.
"That is why I called upon some help." Torik responded.
"And what did you do with this, 'help'?" Shane asked.
"I infiltrated the Trinity Beacon and destroyed their satellites first, then the main control shaft."
"Why destroy the satellites separately, with two detonations? Wouldn't it have been easier to simply destroy only the shaft?" Shane inquired.
"I'm surprised you asked that, councilman." Torik returned. "You being an ex-bounty hunter and all, you of all people should know." This sent a rumble of murmurs and hushed exclamations. Shane bristled. "But I shall humor you for the sake of others present. Any piece of equipment operated by the BH sub-faction is simply waiting to be sabotaged. Especially satellite dishes. When the main control shaft of any satellite has been destroyed, the dishes send out a back-up signal immediately, which 1) causes the detonation of its place of operations, and 2) contacts any Bounty Hunters in the vicinity to come and pick up the pieces. However, if the base of each dish is destroyed simultaneously, then they can no longer have the opportunity to even send a signal, their secondary power sources already decimated."
"Good enough?" Torik finished with, directed toward Shane, who nodded shallowly.
"So where is this message?" Hyle asked. His wave of skepticism was uncanny.
"It should be analyzed by now by your specialists of your control room. You must have more than the first sentence, I trust."
"We'll see to that when the time comes. Why did you not show yourself earlier?" Mitch was gaining more experience in the council atmosphere, thus gaining more confidence.
"I had to conclude my training in the desert, near North City."
"The Ghost City." Bra murmured.
The ensign from the control room burst in, a thin piece of printed paper clutched in his hand. "We've got it sir." He brought the paper to Shane, who took it slowly. "The message, entirely decoded."
"Good work ensign, we'll analyze it after-
"Read it now." Torik politely demanded.
"Excuse me?" Shane had heard him, he was only testing his guts.
"I want them to hear it. So this whole room can hear what we were trying to tell you."
Shane was frozen, still holding the paper. Only when Chris snatched the paper did he wake up.
"Christopher!" Shane started to him, but Trunks' arm blocked him, then calmed him.
Chris read, "Looks can be deceiving. This is the Venoson Specialist Training Facility writing to you. This message was encoded so our enemies would not be able to detect our intentions. The Torik Stronkhold who came to you one month ago is not Torik Stronkhold, but a Bounty Hunter Specialist named Terrence Jackson." Torik had a sharp intake of breath through his nose at the name. "We are sending the real Torik Stronkhold, now finished with his training, to tell you what he can and aid you in the investigation of the matter. Strength to you all." Chris folded the paper. "Well? Tell us what you can." He ordered.
"Very well. You were meant to receive that message long before I got here. The Trinity Beacon was blocking our frequencies used to normally reach you. It needed to be eliminated somehow so our word could reach you." Torik sighed, telling them that they knew the rest of that segment. "I have three main objectives to do here. The first is a question of honor, the second is to get to the bottom of why Mr. Jackson sought to impersonate me, and the third is the infiltration of an underground headquarters on the outskirts."
The room bustled with voices and shifting limbs. "We know that the Bounty Hunters are up to something. We're not entirely sure what yet, but we do know it has something to do with our satellites. They're contacting someone, or something, and we have to find out who or what."
"No further questions. Everyone is allowed to take a twenty minute recess to gather your thoughts." Trunks stood up.
"Trunks, calm down." Hyle said.
Trunks was pacing around the room, grumbling. Shane was looking equally peeved.
"Ugh, this is such a load of bull." Shane grunted. "Torik Stronkhold is dead, Darin even saw him with his own eyes." He looked to Hyle, "Even we did."
Hyle spoke up, "Yes, the Torik Stronkhold we met and shook hands with is stone-dead. However, this Torik is 1) a Venoson, meaning he possesses all the techniques and knowledge of every factional officer in existence, thus making him a supreme asset to whichever faction he joins. And 2) he knows every nook and cranny of our backgrounds, the Bounty Hunters, and even before the Gang Wars."
Shane and Trunks let the information sink in and turn over in their heads. "But do we allow him any requests?"
"We should if we hope to gain his favor. All we've shown him is disrespect and hostility so far." Hyle explained.
"Hey, he barged into our morgue." Shane exclaimed.
"True, but he did point out something quite important to our attention." Trunks said slowly.
"I don't care, I don't know if I can stand this barrage on our security. How much of this will leak to the public?"
"None." Chris appeared at the door. "He's been nothing but honest and true so far, and Venoson hold to their word. Now, it's time."
2 hours later...
"We must bury Terrence Jackson. That must be the first order of operations."
"What?" Shane was red now and fuming.
"Although I am a Venoson and he was a Bounty Hunter, and we are enemies, we do agree on one thing."
"And what is that?" Hyle called out.
"Honor, gentlemen. He did his service to his faction, therefore he deserves an honest and noble funeral, if you will accommodate him."
"Do you believe you're even in the position to ask us to-
"We will hold the funeral, Torik." Trunks stood from his seat beside Shane, cutting him off. "And you will be allowed to head the investigation and run it as you see fit." Trunks sat back down with a sigh. "As for your infiltration..."
"I do not ask for the help of Direct, I will find other comrades to aid me."
"Hold on, you came to us!" Shane accused.
"No, I came to Vengeance. That is how you were able to receive and decode that message so easily."
"Cease this hopeless debate!" Simon descended from the ceiling, positioning himself before Torik. The room was immediately silenced. Shane all but glared at Simon's interruption. Trunks sat up higher to see what would happen. "This is ludicrous. This boy has come to us to aid with his knowledge of our pasts and to help our futures." He directed the next comment to Torik, quieter, "We will hold your requests, and you will head the investigation."
"Yes." Torik nodded. The room was dismissed...
The office's doors slid silently open. The young man entered slowly. "Normally, one knocks." Simon zoomed down to face Torik on the floor.
"Don't get all bent out of shape." Torik pushed past the metal torso. "It might hurt your gears."
Simon flung swiftly back in his face. "I would show some respect, I did just save your, ahem, ass, back there." His voice may have been digital, but it commanded authority.
"Listen, I apologize, but I know who you are." Torik stood his ground, getting serious. "You really think this is immortality?" he tapped at the metal frame of Simon.
"How do you know of me, of who I am?" Simon lifted a bit.
"Your name is definitely NOT Simon, I know this. And I know your acquaintance with that of Trunks."
"You wouldn't dare..." Simon warned.
"I won't, Vegeta." Torik hissed, "You should trust me by now."
Vegeta's sturdy, metallic frame shivered. His actual name had never been mentioned so casually for some time, especially to his face. The pure sound of it felt awkward.
Torik had made his way over to the windows. Vegeta noticed the move and followed up a little behind him and to the side. "One hell of a view, my friend. What a sunset."
"Yes." He replied quietly, then accessed the time. "You'd better get going. Your enemy will be buried with the sun. Covered with the dawn."
"Indeed."
The pastor was swift and subtle, eager to leave. But his words traveled half-heartedly on. Terrence's coffin was long and black, draped with a red and gold flag. Two gold guns, firing, their beams crossing, lay toward the middle. Behind it flew a red hawk. The backdrop for the scene was blacker than the coffin itself.
The wind was lighter, as if stilling itself to set the mood. All those that came were told to come from the council, and even record the event to send to the Bounty Hunters if any other threats came up. But there was no absolute grief on any face. All council members wore black cloaks, Trunks in his dark blue, and Torik remained his refurbished desert armor. Trunks and Torik stood side by side, an odd sight concluded by the other members.
Shane could not pull his eyes from the young Stronkhold. Torik held no demeanor resemblance to Aidam whatsoever, he carried himself differently. This funeral actually means something to him.
"May you rest in peace, amen." The pastor blankly ended. He dully turned to the dark lever, used to begin the coffin's fall into the earth. "Who shall do the honors?"
Various council members coughed deliberately under their breath. "Honor my ass." Hyle murmured below them.
Shane began to move with a sigh, thinking his ancestry to be an appropriate reason. The Venoson moved before him. Another odd sight.
Torik quietly stepped forward and pulled the lever. The flag-draped coffin descended slowly into the earth, a faint whirring filling the silence. Those who came for the sermon were long gone. The final stragglers sifted away. Hyle had been standing in the back, his face contorted in anger and disgust. Now he stepped forward and grotesquely spit onto the disappearing flag. With one last look at Trunks, he whirled and left.
Torik and Trunks remained. Torik looked straight out at the rolling hills of graves. "Was it right?" he asked out loud.
"To bury him? Yes." Trunks answered him, "To throw the switch? I don't know." Torik was then silent. "There will come a time when you won't have to ask whether it was right or not, only that it's done, and you must accept it. You know that you did it because you felt you had to. You were justified."
Torik paused, thinking. "I know." He chuckled, "You're a lot more philosophical than Aidam made you out to be." He looked up at him, "I'm glad you don't seem to want to humiliate me."
"Do you envy him?" Trunks asked vaguely.
Torik didn't have to think. "No."
"I don't mean Aidam." Trunks cleared.
"I know." And they stood in silence, the cloak around Trunks holding like stone in the still wind. They were untouchable, but separate. As they would remain.
Confusion
Anyone near Torik did a double take to the corpse and back to Torik, then repeated the process. Both male and female investigators and scientists fainted at the sight as well. And Shane stood frozen.
Torik, the Torik, was different from the body lying before them. His hair was the same dark blond, his eyes the same hazel-green, but the hair style and how he stood was highly different. Torik held two separate locks of a higher streak of his dark brows lining the edges of his face. His eyebrows depicted an expression of extreme calm and satisfaction.
"Downstairs. Now." Shane ordered, MPs flanking him.
Torik turned calmly to Shane, a small, gentle smile now forever riding on his face. "As you wish." He answered politely.
As they were leaving, Shane reached out and touched Trunks' arm, "Find Bra and a Mitchell Skos, Aidam's alleged second-in-command for this analysis, then join us." And they were out the door.
Bra was leaning with her forehead on her office window, fresh rain streaking down it. Trunks appeared in the doorway, but waited for her.
"What is it, brother?" she asked, unmoving.
"You miss him don't you?" she closed her eyes. He sighed, "I never got to ask, how was the dance?"
"Ah," Bra laughed indignantly, "it never happened. He wasn't there when I got back."
"That so?"
"Bet that makes you very happy, huh?" she spat at him.
"Analysis in the lower wing. Your presence is ordered. You wouldn't believe who just showed up." As he left he called back, "You know the way of course!"
Mitchell was having a nervous but pleasant conversation with Maron in the West Hall, near her workroom.
"Ha, ha aha, well, didn't he ask you?" she inquired.
"Well, yeah, he asked me to come."
"Why didn't you say 'yes', Mitch?" her tone changed a little.
Mitch chose his words carefully. "Yeah, he asked me to come with him, me being his sort of second-in-command, but I told him that I was, sort of, finding a life here to stay with."
"He would've taken you into space! Outer space!" Mitch only shrugged and shifted his weight. Maron leaned back a bit and lightly shook her finger at Mitch, "Now, see, last time we met, after we had dispersed with pleasantries and all the technical stuff, you went on and on about space and how you just wanted to get away from this world."
"Well, that was, before, you, came along." Mitch worked out each word as if it were sticking to his tongue. Maron leaned further back and gave him a look that asked, How so?
Mitch stuttered now, shifting his weight more rapidly. "No, I mean, uh, what I mean is, uh, when you came along with your skills and order, and, and you put together...the suit. The suit just, was, amazing, you had put stuff in that I didn't tell you, to put in, and I never got a chance to thank you. I mean, the-the shock absorbers, the enhanced speed, all-all of them were pleasant surprises." He let out a quick sigh and unsure smile.
"Gotcha." Maron laughed at his effort.
"Mitchell!" Trunks dashed in from the west wing. "You're needed. East Wing, underground. I've already collected Bra for analysis." He turned his eyes on Maron. "You're allowed to come too, Maron, but you'll have to remain aside. No questions."
"Understood." Maron nodded. "But I'm coming."
Trunks looked back and forth at them, eyes wide. Well, what are you waiting for? "Let's move." He turned on his heel and strode east. Mitch and Maron exchanged looks and followed.
The interrogation room was a door, a glowing white walkway leading into a circle where the accused would stand. Also from the door to either was one row forming the circumference of the bright circle that met at the highest podium, where Shane now sat, with Trunks to his left and Christopher to his right, both on slightly lower podiums. One colossal spotlight shone down on them, but mostly on Torik, who stood in the center of the circle. The only other lights were blue tinted, as if for an eerie effect.
Mitch and Maron entered in silence as Bra asked the first inquiry, "Can you straight out prove that you are indeed Torik Stronkhold?"
"I proved that the other is an imposter." Was the relaxed answer.
"But you could also be the same." Hyle piped up.
"I am of Venoson, where Torik was sent by his father, Aidam. My father."
"Do you know of his recent actions?" Trunks chimed in, ready to tear into any relation to his rival.
"Of him taking a large section of your officers and infantry into space using a starship jumper christened the Freeshade? Yes."
"Do you justify them?" Trunks became a shade darker, oddly. Bra looked over to him, wondering what he was getting at and what this had to do with Torik.
"Do not condone my father's sins against me." Torik returned with tranquility.
"You don't support his actions?" Trunks was trying to get something out, but in vain.
"His actions do not reflect my own. You showed us this with your own actions many years ago." Trunks was silenced. "But it seems your rivalry with Aidam has blinded your own memories."
"Enough!" Shane yelled, but Torik was done.
"What exactly are doing here?" Mitch spoke up.
Torik turned to him, softening at this new voice. "First I came stop the interception of our message to you."
"In order to do that you'd have to knock out an immensely powerful satellite beacon to free up the air waves enough. And we all know that every beacon is heavily guarded." Hyle shot out into the room.
"That is why I called upon some help." Torik responded.
"And what did you do with this, 'help'?" Shane asked.
"I infiltrated the Trinity Beacon and destroyed their satellites first, then the main control shaft."
"Why destroy the satellites separately, with two detonations? Wouldn't it have been easier to simply destroy only the shaft?" Shane inquired.
"I'm surprised you asked that, councilman." Torik returned. "You being an ex-bounty hunter and all, you of all people should know." This sent a rumble of murmurs and hushed exclamations. Shane bristled. "But I shall humor you for the sake of others present. Any piece of equipment operated by the BH sub-faction is simply waiting to be sabotaged. Especially satellite dishes. When the main control shaft of any satellite has been destroyed, the dishes send out a back-up signal immediately, which 1) causes the detonation of its place of operations, and 2) contacts any Bounty Hunters in the vicinity to come and pick up the pieces. However, if the base of each dish is destroyed simultaneously, then they can no longer have the opportunity to even send a signal, their secondary power sources already decimated."
"Good enough?" Torik finished with, directed toward Shane, who nodded shallowly.
"So where is this message?" Hyle asked. His wave of skepticism was uncanny.
"It should be analyzed by now by your specialists of your control room. You must have more than the first sentence, I trust."
"We'll see to that when the time comes. Why did you not show yourself earlier?" Mitch was gaining more experience in the council atmosphere, thus gaining more confidence.
"I had to conclude my training in the desert, near North City."
"The Ghost City." Bra murmured.
The ensign from the control room burst in, a thin piece of printed paper clutched in his hand. "We've got it sir." He brought the paper to Shane, who took it slowly. "The message, entirely decoded."
"Good work ensign, we'll analyze it after-
"Read it now." Torik politely demanded.
"Excuse me?" Shane had heard him, he was only testing his guts.
"I want them to hear it. So this whole room can hear what we were trying to tell you."
Shane was frozen, still holding the paper. Only when Chris snatched the paper did he wake up.
"Christopher!" Shane started to him, but Trunks' arm blocked him, then calmed him.
Chris read, "Looks can be deceiving. This is the Venoson Specialist Training Facility writing to you. This message was encoded so our enemies would not be able to detect our intentions. The Torik Stronkhold who came to you one month ago is not Torik Stronkhold, but a Bounty Hunter Specialist named Terrence Jackson." Torik had a sharp intake of breath through his nose at the name. "We are sending the real Torik Stronkhold, now finished with his training, to tell you what he can and aid you in the investigation of the matter. Strength to you all." Chris folded the paper. "Well? Tell us what you can." He ordered.
"Very well. You were meant to receive that message long before I got here. The Trinity Beacon was blocking our frequencies used to normally reach you. It needed to be eliminated somehow so our word could reach you." Torik sighed, telling them that they knew the rest of that segment. "I have three main objectives to do here. The first is a question of honor, the second is to get to the bottom of why Mr. Jackson sought to impersonate me, and the third is the infiltration of an underground headquarters on the outskirts."
The room bustled with voices and shifting limbs. "We know that the Bounty Hunters are up to something. We're not entirely sure what yet, but we do know it has something to do with our satellites. They're contacting someone, or something, and we have to find out who or what."
"No further questions. Everyone is allowed to take a twenty minute recess to gather your thoughts." Trunks stood up.
"Trunks, calm down." Hyle said.
Trunks was pacing around the room, grumbling. Shane was looking equally peeved.
"Ugh, this is such a load of bull." Shane grunted. "Torik Stronkhold is dead, Darin even saw him with his own eyes." He looked to Hyle, "Even we did."
Hyle spoke up, "Yes, the Torik Stronkhold we met and shook hands with is stone-dead. However, this Torik is 1) a Venoson, meaning he possesses all the techniques and knowledge of every factional officer in existence, thus making him a supreme asset to whichever faction he joins. And 2) he knows every nook and cranny of our backgrounds, the Bounty Hunters, and even before the Gang Wars."
Shane and Trunks let the information sink in and turn over in their heads. "But do we allow him any requests?"
"We should if we hope to gain his favor. All we've shown him is disrespect and hostility so far." Hyle explained.
"Hey, he barged into our morgue." Shane exclaimed.
"True, but he did point out something quite important to our attention." Trunks said slowly.
"I don't care, I don't know if I can stand this barrage on our security. How much of this will leak to the public?"
"None." Chris appeared at the door. "He's been nothing but honest and true so far, and Venoson hold to their word. Now, it's time."
2 hours later...
"We must bury Terrence Jackson. That must be the first order of operations."
"What?" Shane was red now and fuming.
"Although I am a Venoson and he was a Bounty Hunter, and we are enemies, we do agree on one thing."
"And what is that?" Hyle called out.
"Honor, gentlemen. He did his service to his faction, therefore he deserves an honest and noble funeral, if you will accommodate him."
"Do you believe you're even in the position to ask us to-
"We will hold the funeral, Torik." Trunks stood from his seat beside Shane, cutting him off. "And you will be allowed to head the investigation and run it as you see fit." Trunks sat back down with a sigh. "As for your infiltration..."
"I do not ask for the help of Direct, I will find other comrades to aid me."
"Hold on, you came to us!" Shane accused.
"No, I came to Vengeance. That is how you were able to receive and decode that message so easily."
"Cease this hopeless debate!" Simon descended from the ceiling, positioning himself before Torik. The room was immediately silenced. Shane all but glared at Simon's interruption. Trunks sat up higher to see what would happen. "This is ludicrous. This boy has come to us to aid with his knowledge of our pasts and to help our futures." He directed the next comment to Torik, quieter, "We will hold your requests, and you will head the investigation."
"Yes." Torik nodded. The room was dismissed...
The office's doors slid silently open. The young man entered slowly. "Normally, one knocks." Simon zoomed down to face Torik on the floor.
"Don't get all bent out of shape." Torik pushed past the metal torso. "It might hurt your gears."
Simon flung swiftly back in his face. "I would show some respect, I did just save your, ahem, ass, back there." His voice may have been digital, but it commanded authority.
"Listen, I apologize, but I know who you are." Torik stood his ground, getting serious. "You really think this is immortality?" he tapped at the metal frame of Simon.
"How do you know of me, of who I am?" Simon lifted a bit.
"Your name is definitely NOT Simon, I know this. And I know your acquaintance with that of Trunks."
"You wouldn't dare..." Simon warned.
"I won't, Vegeta." Torik hissed, "You should trust me by now."
Vegeta's sturdy, metallic frame shivered. His actual name had never been mentioned so casually for some time, especially to his face. The pure sound of it felt awkward.
Torik had made his way over to the windows. Vegeta noticed the move and followed up a little behind him and to the side. "One hell of a view, my friend. What a sunset."
"Yes." He replied quietly, then accessed the time. "You'd better get going. Your enemy will be buried with the sun. Covered with the dawn."
"Indeed."
The pastor was swift and subtle, eager to leave. But his words traveled half-heartedly on. Terrence's coffin was long and black, draped with a red and gold flag. Two gold guns, firing, their beams crossing, lay toward the middle. Behind it flew a red hawk. The backdrop for the scene was blacker than the coffin itself.
The wind was lighter, as if stilling itself to set the mood. All those that came were told to come from the council, and even record the event to send to the Bounty Hunters if any other threats came up. But there was no absolute grief on any face. All council members wore black cloaks, Trunks in his dark blue, and Torik remained his refurbished desert armor. Trunks and Torik stood side by side, an odd sight concluded by the other members.
Shane could not pull his eyes from the young Stronkhold. Torik held no demeanor resemblance to Aidam whatsoever, he carried himself differently. This funeral actually means something to him.
"May you rest in peace, amen." The pastor blankly ended. He dully turned to the dark lever, used to begin the coffin's fall into the earth. "Who shall do the honors?"
Various council members coughed deliberately under their breath. "Honor my ass." Hyle murmured below them.
Shane began to move with a sigh, thinking his ancestry to be an appropriate reason. The Venoson moved before him. Another odd sight.
Torik quietly stepped forward and pulled the lever. The flag-draped coffin descended slowly into the earth, a faint whirring filling the silence. Those who came for the sermon were long gone. The final stragglers sifted away. Hyle had been standing in the back, his face contorted in anger and disgust. Now he stepped forward and grotesquely spit onto the disappearing flag. With one last look at Trunks, he whirled and left.
Torik and Trunks remained. Torik looked straight out at the rolling hills of graves. "Was it right?" he asked out loud.
"To bury him? Yes." Trunks answered him, "To throw the switch? I don't know." Torik was then silent. "There will come a time when you won't have to ask whether it was right or not, only that it's done, and you must accept it. You know that you did it because you felt you had to. You were justified."
Torik paused, thinking. "I know." He chuckled, "You're a lot more philosophical than Aidam made you out to be." He looked up at him, "I'm glad you don't seem to want to humiliate me."
"Do you envy him?" Trunks asked vaguely.
Torik didn't have to think. "No."
"I don't mean Aidam." Trunks cleared.
"I know." And they stood in silence, the cloak around Trunks holding like stone in the still wind. They were untouchable, but separate. As they would remain.