23 BTC

Khamkamuk Rok

Pourhiri Province

Vitheon

Infinite stars.

A billion tiny light bugs buzzing and dancing before his eyes. Suspended in the ether, it was entirely silent.

Movement from beyond his vision. A form, sensed more than seen, parted the air around him. All the dust motes hanging in the air and set ablaze by the golden light pouring in the room went spinning and whirling about as the dark figure passed through them. He knew what they were now, dimly. And he could see what had disturbed them as well, though his vision was distorted and blurry.

The figure was drawing near him, a vague, indistinct blot in the liquid sunlight. He felt nothing at all, no fear, no pain. What he had at first mistaken for utter quiet was, in fact, merely very muted sound. The reverberating waves tickled his ears, not so much waves as the subtle lapping of water against dirt on the edge of a very still pond.

Strange. Why was it so quiet? His ears almost felt as though they'd been stuffed full of cloth.

"Drasa," he tried to speak, but he wasn't sure if his lips had actually moved. His sister was the figure. She'd drawn close enough that Kavan could make out her shape now. Blood trickled out of her ears, a scarlet stream running down her cheeks and chin. She was mouthing something, while she poked and prodded at him, checking for injuries. Kavan didn't understand why she didn't just say it. It was so quiet that he wouldn't have had trouble hearing her speak.

Oh. Is it me?

He reached out to her, intending to touch the place where blood was pouring out from her own shattered eardrums, but she gripped his hand, pulling him forward as she attempted to maneuver him into a sitting position.

He didn't hear her. Only the movement of her lips, covered in dirt and dust like the rest of her, conveyed her message. Kavan leaned forward, resting his head between his knees as his body woke up and tried to stabilize itself. The wall behind where they'd been sitting had caved partially inwards. The sunlight filling the room reached them from the large gaps around the smoldering rubble.

When his head stopped spinning from the shift in his equilibrium, he chanced a glance upwards. Drasa was still looking at him in concern. He tried to tell her he was fine, but he stopped speaking when he realized he couldn't hear the words coming from his own mouth. It was almost as disorientating as sitting up had been.

It was only then that he really stopped to take in the ruins of the room around them.

Ever so slowly, his awakening mind began to piece together what must have happened. The remains of the blown-out window, partially melted glass and charred stone, lay around them, virtually indistinguishable from debris from the rest of the wall. His mouth felt dry when he tried to swallow, and his chest hurt though he didn't really understand why. He wasn't injured, as far as he could tell.

Dimly, he realized his sister was attempting to pull him to his feet. Summoning his strength, he pushed off of the floor, stumbling momentarily as he shifted into a standing position. Aedrasa reached out instinctively to steady him, and he took a moment to lean against her, letting his vision clear once more before he gingerly pulled away and raised one unsteady arm to point towards the door.

She's right. We need to go.


"Mavakdol Sovann?" Witwar's question broke the trance that seemed to have settled over the Vitheon as he stared intently at the holographic figure who had usurped all communication on the planet. In every city, on every holo padd, the same message, a recording of the live performance, played on repeat.

"Yes, Gannleo Witwar?"

Witwar gazed at him with a mixture of concern and general alarm. "Well?" he prompted eagerly. "What's he saying?"

"He's holding members of the royal family hostage until his people's demands are met," Sovann replied stoically. Witwar blanched.

"His people? Who is this man? Who are his people? The Dho Valk?"

Sovann shook his head. "No," one clawed hand pointed to the scarred warrior. "They are Gosa Sadaar."

At the blank look from the assembled humans in the room, the man explained, with as close to a weary expression as Baara had ever seen from him, "A political party composed primarily of the lower castes that has been allowed to exist at the good will of the royal family. In recent years, their goals have shifted to a promotion of extreme xenophobia and isolationism in response to your Empire's incursion…"

"And now they're committing acts of terrorism and kidnapping?" Dargla demanded with a scoff, looking outraged. "What gives them the right?"

"Well, you are destroying the livelihood of many of them by your harvesting efforts," Sovann replied diplomatically. "We've had to institute restrictions on local logging efforts. Among other things. Many of our more rural communities have borne the economic brunt of those decisions."

"That hardly justifies murder," Witwar murmured, looking troubled. Sovann tilted his head to the side in acknowledgement, but it was unclear if it was a sign of agreement or dissent.

"And this man is their leader?" Baara interjected, curious in spite of the fear spiking through her.

"This man is a colonel named Etan. His involvement is very worrying."

"Because of who he is? Or his rank?"

"Both," Sovann answered.

"Is your military backing renegades now?" Dargla shook his head in disgust.

"That's a strong conclusion to draw from one man's defection, Dargla," Witwar, ever the peacemaker, raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Besides, I doubt the Mavakdol knows any more than we ourselves do at this point. We should, however," his aged visage turned to Sovann in a beseeching manner, "do as Major Hinroth suggest, I think, and proceed to safety. I fear our presence here may put you in danger, Sovann."

"What exactly are this Etan's demands?" all heads turned to Holberi. It was the first she'd spoken in several minutes. Baara had almost forgotten she was there, as unbelievable as that sounded in her own brain now. How could anyone ever forget when Holberi was around?

"That all nonnative lifeforms vacate the planet immediately," Sovann replied, turning his eerie eyes on her. Unlike the human equivalent, the ocular organ of the Vitheon bore no easily distinguishable pupil or iris, being instead composed of a wash of swirling color that reminded Baara of the way spilled ship fuel glistened in the sunlight when it met with water. The odd composition made his expressions, already stoic, that much harder to read.

"Or what?" it rang out almost like a challenge. Holberi's posture, half leaned back in her chair in pointed disregard, radiated disdain. She was far from relaxed, however. Baara could observe that much in the tightness of her shoulders and the way her eyes remained fixed on the planet's representative.

"They are threatening to execute the royal family."

"So?"

Baara gaped at her. "We can't just let innocent people…"

"Why should we care. What are your rulers to us?"

It was…a fair point. Sovann studied her thoughtfully, as if she, and perhaps all of them, were an interesting puzzle to him. "At this point? Nothing. Your Empire's foothold on this planet is firmly established."

Baara turned to look at him. "This is all just…pretense then, isn't it?"

Sovann nodded. "This is nothing short of a coup, Baara Amittai. Perhaps an attempt to seem reasonable in the eyes of those still loyal to the monarchy, though there are few, I confess. The decision to support your Empire, though necessary to the continued 'autonomy' of our planet, was by no means a popular one. I cannot say for certain whether Etan has military backing or not. However, he is not the kind of man, to my knowledge, to start a war on two fronts. His forces are sufficient to overwhelm the Imperial garrison…"

Here Dargla scoffed, but Sovann continued as though he had not heard him.

"But not enough to challenge our local troops as well. Thus, I can only assume there are others within our armed forces who follow his line of thinking, if not his rule. Unless he has allies I'm unaware of, of course. In any case, this is a very dangerous situation for you. Make no mistake. You and your colleagues will be next in the list of casualties. Though he may attempt to use you as bartering tools."

"Your whole military combined couldn't stand against the Empire," Dargla sneered. "If it could, we wouldn't be here."

"That is very true," Sovann conceded. "However, you are here, and by the time your people's reinforcements arrive, it is likely you will have been killed or captured."

"What do you suggest then?" Witwar waved off Dargla's angry retort as the young man bristled in response to the perceived threat.

"That we remove you from the building as soon as possible."

"The Major," Witwar began uncertainly, "was very clear in his directions, Sovann."

"This is the first place they will hunt for you, Gannleo Witwar. Your people will be occupied with fighting mine. I would not place faith in the stability of old buildings, strong as they are, to protect you. At best, you will survive and face the potential of a siege. No, far better to remove yourselves from the city entirely. I will endeavor to contact Major Hinroth about this change of plans."

Witwar looked uncertain, but he made no further arguments as Sovann continued. His face was troubled though, his mouth pursed in a small, contemplative frown.

"There are," Sovann spoke again, "as you no doubt know from your research, a series of tunnels which connect all of our prominent religious landmarks," as he spoke, Sovann returned to the holoprojecter built into his desk. Switching off the comm function, he navigated through a series of files before bringing up a map of the city. Zooming in, he indicated the underground construction. "Etan, of course, knows about this network, as well as your presence here today.

However, there are offshoots," he pointed to seemingly empty air near a tunnel arching under and away from Aunjrir Vas, "that are not recorded on any map. It is likely he knows about these as well, however, the secondary maze is of a much less straightforward construction than those reserved for ceremonial use. His forces are many, but the ground they would have to cover is diverse. I can mark off areas he will look first, to buy you time to escape."

"You're not coming with us?" Baara frowned, troubled. "Won't you be in danger, Sovann? You've worked more closely with us than anyone. Won't they try to interrogate you?"

"They may try," he answered gravely. "But I am afraid I must remain here. I can, perhaps, devise a way to stall Etan and to divert his attention from your departure."

"This is foolish," Dargla bit out. "Tell me you're not going to listen to do what this alien suggests? Dr. Witwar, this is…"

"Not open for discussion, Dargla," Witwar replied wearily. "You may remain here," wizened eyes turned on the younger man. "You are an adult and may make your own decisions. All of you," he cast his eyes at the other two members of their little group, "may make your choice. But I would strongly recommend against staying. It isn't ideal, but I believe Sovann makes a fair point. Major Hinroth will have his hands full defending the city against these renegades."

Witwar wiped at his brow as he spoke, looking nervous. Baara worried for the old man, as well as for the rest of them.

"What are we waiting for?" she asked and gestured to the door with finality. "Lead the way, Sovann."


"There's too many of us. Kaibrek, take Arcsta, Henbol, and Beechen. Raud, you've got Torgan, Gorie, and Starig. Rordant, you look shifty," the former merc snorted at Kit's words, "Can probably handle yourself. Take the new kids," she gestured to the Imperial, Corrwile, and a nervous looking cyborg named Mardura, "will ya? Make sure Corrwile doesn't try to play hero. We'll rendezvous outside the city at," she hurriedly typed something in a datapad, "these coordinates."

"What about you, Kit?" Kaibrek asked. The giant of a man furrowed his brow in concern. "It isn't safe for you to be on your own."

"Exactly!" Gramel piped up, gesturing wildly for emphasis. "A lady shouldn't be alone on the streets. It's too dangerous for you here, Kit."

"Oh for fuck's sake…" Torgan muttered under his breath, shifting restlessly the longer they lingered talking. The Cathar's eyes darted about the alley they currently occupied as his ears perked up to listen for any shift in the cacophony of sounds echoing towards them from the main street. He clutched a blaster firmly in both hands, his knuckles tight and his body tense and ready to spring into action.

"We don't have time for this, Gramel," Kit answered firmly. "I'm going to warn Kavan and Aedrasa. They're probably already on their way out," she held up a hand to stop whatever worried words Kaibrek had been about to spew forth. "I'm sure they're fine," she added kindly, "but I need to make sure they don't need help."

"You shouldn't go alone," Rordant grunted. "It's not safe for anyone." His eyes flickered across those assembled before settling on the Cathar who'd spoken. "Take Torgan. He can watch your back."

Kit hesitated for a moment before nodding in agreement. "Fair. Torgan, you're with me. Now the rest of you, scram. Keep to the side alleys."

"Stay behind me," Gramel spoke over his shoulder to the Imperial woman. "Mardi and I will look after you."

A corner of the Imperial's mouth twitched slightly upwards in an odd, half smile, but anything she might have been about to say was cut off by the cyborg's disgruntled, "Don't call me Mardi," as he shoved roughly past Gramel.

"Sure thing, pal," Gramel clicked his tongue and frowned at the man's back, making a show of straightening the front of his jacket. "You'd think I'd insulted his mama or somethin'," he grumbled under his breath, half aside to the Imperial.

"All right, new bloods," Rordant grunted. He finished a weapon check while he spoke, patting down the spare magazines concealed on his person, "heads down, eyes open, and shut up. I'm lookin' at you, farm boy," he jerked his chin at Gramel, who grinned good naturedly.

"More of a ranch boy, but..."

"What'd I say? Mouths shut. Let's go people!"


3 BTC

Come on. Come on.

In the dim light of the station's inner corridors, the boy nearly missed the subtle grooves of the air duct grate. His legs had just cleared the edge of the opening when the cacophonous thud of boots striking metal rang out below him and the hastily assembled band of motley thugs rolled into view. Not daring to breathe, he carefully eased the covering back into place, muscles taught with tension until the metal covering lay still.

Don't look up. Don't look up.

One of the gunmen drew up short several paces past the boy's hiding spot, causing a few of his companions to stumble past him with distracted curses, but the hunter paid them no mind. His head had snapped up abruptly, body going rigid. The clawed hands which gripped his rifle drew closer to his torso as he eased into a semi crouched position and began to sniff the air wildly, a forked tongue flickering excitedly past scaly lips as he rasped something to himself in a guttural tongue. Orange, reptilian eyes roved along the dark metal ceiling panels as the bounty hunter began to cautiously back up, easing ever nearer to the boy's hiding spot.

The tightness in the boy's throat and chest threatened to suffocate him momentarily before a sense of grim, practiced calm descended over him. If his count hadn't been off, there were at least fifteen assorted bounty hunters and hired thugs currently separated from him by less than an inch of durasteel. It really had been a gamble to try the air ducts, but what choice had they left him?

"You smell, little rat."

Soft, shrill, chittering noises of amusement emanated from the creature's throat. The boy gripped his weapon tightly, arm held close to his body as he crouched in the darkness of the air duct, waiting. The dull white and orange light pouring in from the corridor below cast shadows on his face as it seeped past the slats in the grate.

"Noshk! Let's go!"

It appeared a few other gunmen had taken heed of their companion's distraction.

"Stinking ape can't see what's in front of him," the boy was confused by this statement for a moment, muttered in a distracted, offhand sort of way under the first hunter's breath. However, the distinctive clank of boots and the appearance of the very irate, armored human male, the one who'd roared the order to keep moving, made it clear the lizard man's comment hadn't been directed at the boy himself this time.

"What'd you say to me?! You scaly freak!"

A low, feral hissss escaped the hunter, Noshk's, mouth as he blatantly ignored his companion, his fixed gaze instead continuing to track along the ceiling with robotic precision. "Can it not hear either?"

SLAM!

The human had seized his companion bodily by the front of his jacket, shoving him against the bulkhead at a spot uncomfortably close to the boy's position. The apprentice froze in his retreat, stalling his attempts at using the noise of the altercation to cover his escape. One hand rose to cover his nose and mouth as he grimaced in disgust. Below and less than a few feet away from him, the bulky human mercenary's body odor was nearly overpowering. The snarling gunman got up close and personal with the reptilian alien, sticking his face in the latter's as he spewed a series of increasingly disturbing threats. The boy could imagine loose spittle flying up through the grate, making him even more eager to leave.

Noshk snapped his teeth in frustration and anger, coming dangerously close to the human merc's flesh. "It lays its stinking hands on Noshk, while its prey escapes!"

The retort of blaster fire sent the boy reeling back as the duct several feet in front of him exploded. An inhuman shriek rent the air, followed up by the pervading stench of sizzled flesh and ozone. The apprentice belatedly covered his ringing ears with a wince. Thudding, stomping feet and cries of alarm and outrage swarmed beneath him, but the stars dancing in his vision made it difficult for him to see. He couldn't tell if they were coming for him or not.

Sounds of a scuffle, then the speaking as the ringing in his ears began to fade.

"Let's get one thing clear, Noshk," the mercenary's voice had dropped to a low, deadly tone thrumming with suppressed threat. "I give an order, you follow it. I tell you to move, you move." A rustling of fabric and the shifting of bodies as a dull thud signified the first hunter being shoved violently away from the second. Hard enough to go sprawling flat out on the durasteel plating of the station. Muttering voices poured on jeering insults. The boy flinched at the sound of something solid connecting with something less solid and a grunt of pain.

The apprentice watched in silence as the human mercenary took a step backward, eying the spot where he assumed the lizard man lay with disgust, before turning his back in resolute fashion.

"If we're done shooting at vermin, let's go find our real target! Move out!"

Wheeze

Hack

Chuckle

"Stinking ape..."

The boy stared at the twisted, rent, and blaster scored metal of the maintenance duct with a furrowed brow as the sounds of shuffling boots faded away beneath him. Creeping closer, he gingerly poked at the ruined paneling, but further investigation revealed nothing more than scorched and melted wires and fragments of broken metal. Yet even still, the pervasive scent of charred flesh lingered in his nostrils.

"What were you shooting at?" he muttered softly.

A glimmer of movement caught his eye. Body going rigid, his head snapped up as he drew back and peered into the darkness of the ventilation shaft.

"Hello?"