The Queen's Honor Guard
by Nyohah
III.
The abrasively dry wind gusting across the field was enough to keep him awake, even if he hadn't had numerous pressing thoughts vying for his conscious attention. The wrap covering his gills was nearly dry; he'd have to rewet it in a few minutes or risk agonizing irritation, or possibly illness, the next day. But it was these altogether too frequent quiet moments that wore upon him more harshly each time and made him wonder if he really even cared anymore. The pain might at least remind him that he was alive.
"Leer."
He identified the voice at once and jumped to his feet, turning to face it. "General Tascilo," he said, a typical mocking tone coming easily to his voice, "why are you here? Have you walked all this way just to speak to me?"
"Cut the sarcasm, Leer," said Tascilo, a medium-sized man whose once dark hair had turned mostly gray. "You know why I'm here, and you know your little message was the reason."
"So you actually do listen to me, General," said Braeden with a single, exaggerated nod. "You must be the only one."
"I find it's beneficial to have an information link that wanders a more backwater path than I can manage anymore," Tascilo explained.
"Oh," Braeden stretched the syllable, crossing his arms. "So now I'm your little mimic-sprite, to sit on your shoulder and whisper in your ear. Or has it always been that way?"
"I value your opinion, Leer; that's not changed," Tascilo said firmly. "I've always thought your situation stank of unfair politics."
"And politics, as we all know, is not something that blesses you with understanding."
"Why thank you, Leer," said the general, his voice drenched with sarcasm.
"Likewise, General."
"And if we could now address the situation at hand?"
Braeden closed his eyes. "I met some Mandalorians."
"So your message indicated."
"They weren't half-bad."
"I suppose you sympathized with them, didn't you."
Braeden opened his eyes a slit. "There are some who know what it's like to be discriminated against, General."
"Someone called you 'pond scum' again."
"Lots of people call me 'pond scum' on a regular basis."
Tascilo crossed his arms. "So after you finished bonding with your fellow downtrodden species...?"
"They only wanted to know who attacked their colony, General."
"For revenge purposes?"
"Probably. Does it matter? The Republic does it all the time."
"The Republic is not the subject of this questioning," Tascilo said flatly. "So they seemed not at all like clones?"
"Clones?" Braeden straightened. "Are they supposed to be?"
"There have been rumors, yes."
"Well, the three I spoke with were quite different from each other physically. Although they did have a strange aura."
"So they could have been clones of three different people?"
"Is it really that important, General?" Braeden crossed his arms and feet, relaxing his spine.
"People are uncomfortable with the idea of clones. They like to think their life is precious and unique."
"'Precious' and 'unique' are not adjectives I would use to describe most people."
"Yes, well, you're jaded," said Tascilo with a psuedo-polite smile.
"So're you, General. And you don't feel that way either."
"So I don't. The average person does, though, and the average person is what those of us in responsibility positions in the Republic are forced to think of."
"Pity. They don't deserve the attention."
Tascilo sighed and shook his head. "No one is happy with these Mandalorians' presence. It's rumored that not only are they clones, but also that they have strange powers that far exceed those of the Jedi."
"I find that hard to believe, General. Or have you forgotten that I know the powers of a Jedi and how much they surpass what the general public is ever allowed to see or the average Jedi allowed to use."
"Regardless, the Jedi are not able to create gravity wells, summon water and fire, or poison people from fifty meters away."
"I bet we could if we tried."
"Did you say 'we'?" asked the general in a light tone. "Are you softening, Leer?"
"A slip of the tongue." Braeden clacked his in demonstration. "And good for the Mandalorians. I don't care."
Tascilo raised his eyebrows. "So I suppose you are against the idea of going to war with them."
"War?" The Calyaar's voice raised in volume. "What have they done?"
"Severely disturbed the people. Disregarded all laws of space-travel in inhabited systems."
"They're entirely naïve about all workings of this galaxy," he argued. "There's no reason to go to war."
"I'm against it, too. But I'm just one tiny little voice in a gallery of thousands."
"It'll be slaughter."
"Not as much as it could be. Palpatine's actually passed a law that no one is to fire upon a Mandalorian ship after that fiasco two days ago."
"Now that's the real news here," Braeden said more slowly. "Palpatine's prohibiting all-out slaughter?"
Tascilo shrugged, a gesture almost as incredulous as Braeden's tone of voice. "Maybe he's not as bad as some of us think. He is, after all, from Naboo, and they've never condoned violence."
"Except for that one time just before Palpatine became Supreme Chancellor." Braeden grinned, displaying his sharp incisors.
"They didn't actually kill real people face to face, only droids and ships. And that was as a last resort in protection of their world."
"Well, what saints."
Tascilo shook his head and glanced at his chronometer. "I need to get back now. Most of my leisurely walks never last this long."
"So you are ashamed of me."
"You know as well as I that your aid means nothing if I am not respected."
"And we both know that nothing directly involved with me is respected anymore."
"The galaxy's not a nice place."
"You don't have to tell me that, General. You forget that I have been alive three years longer than you, even if I am not old like you."
"I'm not old," said Tascilo, a bit of an irritated tone finally entering his voice.
"Yes, you are," replied Braeden, rubbing his hand through his stiff hair. "See, Calyaar hair is supposed to be white. Human hair, however—"
"Oh, shut up, Leer," Tascilo said, walking away.
"Nice to see you, too, General."
The laughter of Yen Sa and Ta Lian Shi as they watched the display was almost sickening in light of the news. But Hua Quy Ling was never one to rush to anger, taking time to recall that they did not yet know of the presence of clones and the likelihood of a fiend as powerful as Shao Kahn. He only hoped, as he sat in a chair to the side of the bridge, that they had managed to accomplish something instead of spending the entire time distracted by the peculiarities of the various planets they were examining, as they seemed to be as he had walked in. This suitable planet they were supposed to be searching for was their best chance, because 'worthless' was the only word that truly described the colony.
And 'hopeless' the only fitting adjective for any attempt to defeat the fiend behind the cloning if he were anything like Kahn. He thought they should leave: leave the issue of clones, leave the mystery of the Jedi, and leave the defeat of the fiend in the hands of the heathen people who inhabited the galaxy.
Not that Quy's opinion held much weight. Any decisions were made by Li Wei Yong and Kei Sa, and while he had influence on one of those leaders—didn't he?—anything they said could be overridden by the queen and modified to her whim, and whims seemed to be one of her specialties. And the inhabitants of this galaxy didn't seem capable of dealing with powers like the Mandalorians', so how could they deal with a threat like Kahn? The Jedi could, perhaps, if he had inferred correctly about what they were, and if they knew the fiend existed.
But Quy doubted any argument of circumstance would deter the Mandalorians from what responsibility and honor dictated them to do. So he hoped Yen Sa and Lian had found them a planet.
He was not the only one.
Followed by the rest of the honor guard, Yuen Ming hurried onto the bridge, seating herself just as quickly. "Yen Sa, if you will give Cai Yue the location of our destination."
"If they've bothered to try finding one," muttered Lan Yiao Nih.
Lian raised his eyebrows and spoke in a soft tone that nevertheless suggested hostility. "We worked quite diligently and have had a planet in mind for quite some time, for your information, but what took you so long? Laziness getting the better of you?"
"That's enough," commanded Ming, stressing each consonant. "Yen Sa?" she said with a sigh.
"Of course," he answered, frowning at the unease on the honor guards' faces. "Is something wrong?"
"Remember your little theory," said Zhen, "about Shao Kahn originating in this galaxy?"
"It was just a thought, one of those crazy theories that pops in my head without real logic," said Yen Sa.
"Well, there are clones in this galaxy. And something's making them."
"Are you saying there's another Shao Kahn here?" Lian said.
"That's what we're going to find out," said the general.
"After we set up a base," said the queen.
"Of course," Yen Sa said again, hearing the urgency in her voice and turning back to adjust the display of his map as Cai Yue looked on, memorizing a location.
It was too quiet as they left, Yen Sa thought, both on the bridge of the Templar and in the space surrounding the planet. He hadn't meant his musings to be taken in any serious context, and part of him longed to announce that he didn't think it was possible that they were from this same galaxy, and therefore likely that Kahn was from some far away place and not this galaxy, and therefore likely that nothing like Kahn lurked in this galaxy, and therefore likely that if they just went home and left it all alone nothing bad would happen at all. The part he carefully restrained was the same part that only wished to go home, the part that wanted itself to be happy no matter the damage caused to those around him. The part that he always felt the great heroes spoken of for centuries either lacked or entirely suppressed. That part he would always struggle to keep inside, for wasn't that attitude of self above all others what caused slavery and allowed it to continue?
But the tranquility all around him bothered him more the further they got into space, and still no ships had been spotted around what seemed a fairly busy, populated planet. Disturbing as his thoughts may have been, the eerie silence was far more, stopping his thoughts to create its twin in his mind.
He felt no shock and surprisingly little horror as the ships whose absence he had noticed suddenly appeared from behind a dusty red moon, fighters of a different style than they had previously encountered. They flew in tight formation, their movement and appearance remarkably cohesive in comparison to the attackers they had encountered before. As he stared, they fired missiles in tandem, closing on the Mandalorian convoy.
The silence was broken by the explosions of three ships throughout the line, but the quiet within remained, indigo energies ahead already coalescing through the frantic efforts of Rah Cai Yue and Kei Sa, the others unable to do anything but stare, both helpless and amazed.
Yen Sa rested his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, allowing the shock waves from another exploding ship to smash him against the wall. The portal was almost done, but too far ahead—not Cai Yue's fault, for he had to set his portal in a certain place to align it correctly. Yen Sa wondered how long it would be before the fighters outside targeted the Templar and how many missiles it would take to destroy it.
His skin tingled and he recognized the wavering distortions caused by the presence of Vyrenchi energy. Honor, here to protect the queen. He could shield her from heat, but give her heat if she had to abandon ship? Oxygen? Pressure? Would the other twelve Vyrenchi try to do the same for the rest of the honor guard? What about Tieh Chen Yi's girlfriend?
No, the fighters were out of missiles. Their ship would be destroyed by the lancing beams of light they used for a weapon. How many direct hits would it take those to destroy them?
Light? Yet another aggravating reminder of how close he was with his invention.
One of the red beams hit the ship just to the back of the Templar and its heat reversed direction, blossoming into an explosion on that ship's hull, and certainly breaching it.
Light? Energy? Simple to block, not simple to emulate.
A fighter crossed the path of another that was firing, and Yen Sa cringed, anticipating another explosion, but the beam splashed around the ship, diffused, it seemed, and probably weakening the shield. Convenient for them that such a wretched mistake didn't cause their destruction. Pity they couldn't absorb it to strengthen themselves.
Light? Energy? Absorption?
"My queen!" he shouted. She looked startled, jolting up from a hunched position. "The Vyrenchi are here?"
"Honor?" she said.
=Yes, Yuen Ming,= Honor replied, taking a moment to form his mental projection.
"Are the others here?"
=Yes, Yuen Ming.=
The queen turned back, directing a questioning look at Yen Sa.
"Honor, you can capture the energy they are using as a weapon, right?" he said.
=We can, Yen Sa.=
"And can you redirect it back to them still as a weapon?"
The white-clad projection tilted its head. =We can try.=
"And how many of you would it take to protect each ship?"
"Ming, we're fools," whispered the general.
=We will petition for support from our planet as we work,= said Honor, then vanished.
A split second later, the fighters outside scattered as the 'unarmed, defenseless' ships suddenly deflected their shots and fired back. By the time they had regrouped into an organized force, the last of the Mandalorian ships slipped through the portal.
"As we all know," said Li Wei Yong, looking out to the yellow-grassed planet that they were slowly approaching, "today we have stumbled across a method that has enabled us to survive even direct attacks by enemy ships. The Vyrenchi have sent reinforcements, enough for three to a ship. The question is: does this give us the power to fight them on their own turf?" He turned. "Yen Sa?" he asked. "You're the scientist, and the light elemental. What do you think?"
"Sir?" The younger man blinked, looking up from the table surface. "Um, no sir, I don't think we can. Even with three Vyrenchi per ship, each Vyrenchi can only attack one bolt at a time. And perhaps no one else was watching—understandably—but even their attacks last time did only a minor portion of the damage as they did to us with each shot. Their ships have shields and we'd have to pound at them a long time to do any sort of damage."
=And that was with us storing several bolts for energy to attack,= Honor mewed mournfully.
"No, it's not your fault," Ming soothed quietly.
"Hey," said Lian. "At least we can defend ourselves now. We don't have to live in constant fear of a group of ships coming around the horizon with weapons flaring."
"I think you live in constant fear anyway," said Captain Lan.
"You're quite out of line, Captain," Wei Yong snarled, resisting the temptation to rip the man's throat out.
"General," Yen Sa said calmly, as though oblivious to rising tensions, "even their shields are worn down over time by laser blasts. Ours are only strengthened. If a ship gets hit by more than three bolts at the exact same time, the extras are going to get through. But unless we are terribly outnumbered, we're not going to have much to worry about as long as we concentrate on leaving."
"But what about the missiles?" asked Lieutenant Nai.
Yen Sa sighed. "I had forgotten about them. We're just going to have to hope that not many ships have them."
"So you say," said Wei Yong, "that to fight against these people, we're going to have to fight with their sort of weapon?"
"Either their weapon or something they can't comprehend or defend themselves against, like our elements."
"So, how long until you can make us lasers, Yen Sa?"
A brief look of shock crossed the boy's face. "I already have a device that can generate damaging light. What I need is lots of barrels to direct the light, probably with a handle because it's going to get hot, and to teach all the soldiers to give the sunstones a little of their inner power in quick bursts. And the time it would take me to replicate all the circuitry."
"So you're saying we're better off stealing their weapons."
"Hey, why not?" said Zhen. "If they think they can just go around killing us then I think we can go around stealing their stuff. Which is the lesser of the two evils?"
"Zhen, shut up," said Ming.
"Um, General?" Yen Sa bit his lip.
"What is it?" Wei Yong said.
"You do realize that the technology we'd have to use to make laser guns is just a scarcely modified version of this." And he set his failed light sword on the table.
Wei Yong sighed and allowed his shoulders to hunch slightly. "Does it work now?"
"Does it work? Well, I've kept it on for a full hour without it losing its stability and shattering like it did at the meeting—that was partially a fault of a glitchy circuit and partially my own mental weakness. I've also added a mirrored guide to help direct the light in the proper direction, taking some strain off the mind, and I've found that every day I use it, it becomes a little easier. Now, it takes almost no effort. Just a little more than turning on a sunstone. But, of course, it tires you out if you use for long periods of time, because you are channeling your actual body's energy into it to make it dangerous to others. But for that very reason, it cannot hurt you, which I think is quite the advantage."
"Then it works."
Yen Sa ceased his rambling, lowered his head, and said softly, "It needs field testing."
Wei Yong nodded once. "Very well."
"What?" Yen Sa looked up. "Really?"
"Just," Wei Yong faltered, somewhat surprised himself that he was agreeing, "take your real sword with you in case that doesn't work."
"Really?" Yen Sa repeated. "Thank you, sir. I won't forget this, and you won't be disappointed."
"I hope not," Wei Yong muttered under his breath, because he knew it was their only real chance at an advantage.