Chapter 4

An hour after the holo-call, Paul stepped through the airlock of a fully operational starship. On the other side, the man from the hologram stood waiting, wearing the same cheery smile. His shaved head was like a cut of smooth grey stone; his bright blue eyes would indicate innocence were it not for the crow’s feet around them. His clothes were just as unremarkable as his demeanor, much like a commoner waiting in line at the market. Paul had seen the type thousands of times. But, unremarkable men did not traverse the Darkside.

“Welcome aboard the Intrepid!” He looked Paul up and down, his lively disposition shifted. “You’re injured. Please, I have medical supplies.”

“It’s not my blood, stranger,” said Paul, carefully eyeing the man before him. Not that there was any choice, but could this person even be trusted? What was a civilian doing all the way out in the Darkside?

“I see. Well, I shouldn’t leave you struggling, at any rate. My name is Olasqy Amuv.”

“Strange name for a human,” Paul said, struggling to maintain his composure. He was rescued, but his body was still on the brink of failure. Breadcrumbs or just a sip of water would surely be enough to stave off death for a little bit longer.

“It would be,” he said. Turning down the hall, he beckoned Paul to follow. “Oh, and don’t worry, I’m plenty trustworthy.”

Paul didn’t move. Plenty trustworthy? Who says that to instill confidence? Reaching out with his senses, he tried to probe the man’s mind for any foul intentions, but something was off...his thoughts bounced around chaotically, impossible to ascertain guilt or malicious purposes. It had to be the fatigue, Paul could barely focus on standing upright let alone exerting his powers on another.

“Come, please, you look famished. I’ll prepare you a meal. Bear in mind that it won’t be fine dining, but you look like you’d scarf down sustenance paste right about now,” Olasqy said, waving on his new guest again. Paul followed with caution, the prospect of a full belly, irresistible.

Fat sausages sizzled, filling the small kitchen space with its seasoned aroma. Olasqy poured steamy amber liquid into a couple of mugs and passed one to Paul, who was sitting quietly. “Horgian Rueby tea, probably the nicest thing I have on this ship. Better for you than water. Oh- and here have some bistot sausage it's the real thing, not synthetic or anything.”

Paul scarfed down the juicy, slightly burnt sausages and downed the mug of tea; it was the most delicious meal he ever had. As he ate, he never took his eyes off his rescuer for long. “What are you doing in the Darkside?” he asked after taking another swig of tea.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Olasqy sat down with his own plate and began eating at a much more leisurely pace. “Your ship was barely holding itself together. What happened, something hit you while you fumbled in the darkness?”

“That is not your concern.”

Olasqy took a sip from his mug. “Well, I can take you into port. I think the nearest station is under Tuyet Voi control, umm...Dreshdall, I think it’s called. Though I believe there are a few neutral systems further out.”

“The Tuyet Voi starport will do.” Paul needed to know what happened to his Indominus and men. Captain Doyen would have assumed command, but in the event of his death, the first lieutenant would step in. What would he say if confronted by Tuyet high command? The crew would likely be severely punished without their leader there to defend them. Emperor Reyleonard was not a forgiving ruler. He might even have the command crew executed. Dwelling on their fate was pointless, one could get lost in such cold thoughts. A distraction was in order.

“It’s a long trip,” Olasqy said. “Settle in. Feel free to eat more if you like; there’s plenty.”

There was already something Paul had in mind to kill time. “I’d like to have access to your astrogation computer.”

They moved to the ship’s nexus, a circular room with a large holo-table at the center and a couple of shabby semi-circle couches built into the metal floor. A welcome change from the cramped kitchen, but aesthetics were not a priority here either; it looked more like a room dedicated to storing nondescript containers and assorted knickknacks from different worlds. Paintings from the moon of Caspin leaned against a wall, holo-statue bases laid dormant in an open box, and rolled rugs sat bundled in a corner.

The center holo-console lit up as Paul and Olasqy sat across from one another. During his isolation, Paul studied the star system from the silver map meticulously. The geographical types of each planet were at the forefront of his memory, inputting that information into the computer was a simple matter. Watching a fully functional astrogation computer cycle through and cross-reference thousands of star systems every second, Paul realized the futility of his earlier efforts to find the mystery planet. Seeing the scope of the search, Olasqy grew curious himself and became invested. Hours later, they’d found the planet: Kanchi.

“Kanchi?” Olasqy raised an eyebrow. “That old Amani naval port?” His blue eyes looked Paul up and down. “And you sure don’t look like Amani Navy. Really not much else there except a few criminal organizations and trading towns. What, did a blue ash deal go south? It’s not characteristic of the Mabahse Cartel to conduct their business in the Darkside, even they aren’t that crazy. So, I’ll rule out the possibility that you’re a dangerous drug dealer, probably not a slaver either.”

A sizable holographic representation of Kanchi hung in the air, though it was not nearly as detailed as the version from the silver map. At least this one had legible writing to go with it.

There seemed to be little harm indulging the man’s curiosity. And Paul was feeling rather grateful for being rescued and fed a hearty meal. “I do not fully understand what I seek. Perhaps an alien obelisk belonging to a species yet to be discovered. I found one, but there’s no way to know if there are more. My clues are limited.”

Olasqy leaned back on his couch, looking lost in thought, a sleeve of crackers in hand. “Obelisk you say...you’re an archaeologist then?” He asked as he munched on his snack then wiped crumbs from his pepper grey stubble with a napkin.

Paul hesitated as he watched Olasqy put away another cracker. Was this man even paying attention? “Mmm...this device gave me a vision, now I can’t get it out of my head...” such words would sound like foolish ramblings to most, yet Olasqy showed curiosity. “I see glimpses of terrible acts of destruction and calamity. Emperor Reyleonard has a secret, and I don’t like it.”

Olasqy’s blue eyes stared back, and he put away his snack. “You have reason to believe another one of these obelisks is located on Kanchi?” He said, not at all taken aback by the strangeness of Paul’s goals. A great smile crossed his lips. “I knew I had a good feeling about you.”

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“What do you mean?”

“You’re a Progenitor,” Olasqy stated proudly. “Your kind are rare to come by in this galaxy. I’m humbled to meet you.” He smiled, scratching the pepper grey stubble. “A knight of the Tuyet Voi, judging from your robes. Hmm...no, a much higher rank. You’re a lord among your Empire.”

Paul crossed his arms. “How could you have known all of that?”

“There aren’t many lords, and they’re placed in charge of the Tuyet Voi’s best fleets if I'm not mistaken. I hear the Indominus fleet was recently spotted in the Reaver Verge, which is not too far beyond the Darkside’s borders. And what are the odds I’d find another random Progenitor out in space? If I had to guess, I’d say you’re Nefarous, the most infamous of your kind. I’m more humbled than I realized,” said Olasqy with an unwavering smile. “Plus, I’ve seen pictures of you. I think the green eyes and black robes really give you away.

This annoyed Paul greatly. Who was this man? Shouldn’t he be afraid? Again, attempts to read Olasqy’s feelings were fruitless, they eluded sight like an eye floater. “If you know who I am, then you know I am more than capable of killing you and taking this ship for my own,” Paul said darkly.

“A most unfortunate thing that would be,” Olasqy said without a hint of worry in his words or face. “You could strangle or beat me to death, but I suspect such things are beneath you. You’d prefer the elegance of your cadami blade. Which seems to be missing, isn’t that against your code or something?” he chuckled.

“Just...when we get to the port, I’ll be on my way,” Paul said, not at all hiding his irritation.

Olasqy leaned forward with a sparkle in his eye. “It’s unlikely the obelisks would direct you towards Kanchi on their own. You must have come across something else.”

This sent a shudder down Paul’s spine. He looked at Olasqy with a piercing glare. “Just what do you know?”

“Not much, really. But I suspect they’re linked to Omega somehow,” Olasqy said quickly.

“Omega?”

“You mean you don’t know who Omega is?” Olasqy asked, eyes wide with shock. “Surely you’ve read the old legends written by Isan Wilker. No?” His smile was gone now. “Omega is the most diabolical astrobeing of all time. He wields disastrous, unimaginable power. You really haven’t heard?”

“No,” Paul said flatly. “Astrobeings aren’t real. I’ve traveled across the galaxy for decades and never happened upon some almighty creature. No one has.”

“Not to brag, but I have a few more years of exploring under my belt. I’ve seen Omega firsthand,” Olasqy said with complete conviction. “Astrobeings are as real as the two of us.”

Not being able to read this man was really starting to get under Paul’s skin. People who believed in astrobeings were akin to cultists who worshiped the stars or believed stars didn’t exist at all. “Right, and Emahn lives in a realm beyond time and space,” Paul said with a fancy flourish which only made Olasqy smile and nod in agreement. “Fine, believe what you will.” Paul reclined on his side of the couch, the incredible weight of exhaustion imposed itself on every muscle. He peeked out a viewport; they had made it out of the Darkside, stars and planets zipped by as they traveled through warp space.

“Tell me then, what did you see in your vision?” Olasqy asked evenly.

“I told you,” Paul began, not taking his eyes away from the viewport, “calamity, destruction…” Then he paused. “...and there was something else, some kind of beast watching over everything.” He broke his gaze from the window and back to Olasqy, whose beaming blue eyes were looking stony.

Paul did not like this one bit. This was no mere coincidence, Olasqy coming all the way out into the Darkside. How could he have possibly known? “Have you been tracking me?”

Olasqy’s eyes darted back and forth, a look so innocent it was guilty. “I have. Ozcar managed to plant a small tracker on you,” he said matter-of-factly, and he held out his hand, a tiny drone no larger than a bug leaped from Paul’s shoulder into Olasqy’s outstretched hand. “Though it still took a while to find you, sorry about that. I feared I’d only find a pile of bones, but you survived for twenty days. Incredible.”

Paul jolted up, brushing himself off like he was covered in sand. His heart pounded with rage. No one tricked Nefarous and lived. “So Ozcar led me to that obelisk on your orders. Good men died!” He leaped forward, throwing a fist as hard as he could, but Olasqy caught it midair with minimal effort. It was like trying to punch through a solid wall. Olasqy hadn’t even left his seat.

Impossible.

“I needed you to see the obelisk,” Olasqy said, shoving Paul’s hand away. “I’ve lost people too. Ozcar was willing to give his life for this.” He stood up and left the room.

“Where do you think…” Paul started but the room began to spin. He crashed back down in his seat, drained; that meager attack sapped what little energy he had left. He wanted nothing more than to drift off to sleep right where he sat, but he would not let his guard down around Olasqy. What did that lunatic know and what he was up to?

Minutes later, Olasqy came back with a large rectangular case and set it down on the table before Paul. “You’ve seen more than anyone else; maybe there’s hope after all.” He clicked open the case to reveal a sheathed sword, unmistakably a cadami blade. But it was different. The craftsmanship was alien compared to all the others, though the quality was not lacking. Its colors were warmer than the usual black and silver. The hilt was white, wrapped in a tightly woven crimson grip, and the sheath had golden engravings. Most notably, however, it lacked the Tuyet Voi crest of the intertwined Rey Phoenix and Star Dragon.

Paul heaved himself back to his feet at once. “Whose is this, how did you come by this weapon?”

Olasqy shrugged and said, “It’s made from an astrobeing’s blood.” He scooched the case towards Paul. “Take it. A Progenitor without his weapon is no Progenitor at all.”

Not amused by the answer, Paul stared deadpan at Olasqy before tentatively grabbing the sword, its weight consistent with others of its kind. “These are among the rarest objects in the galaxy. No one even knows how they are built. You’d hand one over to me?” His words were steeped in suspicion.

“Open it.”

Paul complied, not wanting to take his eyes off Olasqy, but when he unsheathed the sword, he couldn’t help but divert his attention. A brilliant violet light radiated from the supposedly pure cadami blade. “It’s...purple,” Paul said in complete disbelief as he stared.

“I see that you’re not colorblind,” Olasqy said whimsically.

“But all cadami swords are blue.”

“Not this one, apparently. But you will find it is perfectly capable of cutting through even the toughest of armors, like any other cadami sword,” Olasqy pointed out and looked oddly happy. Paul had just tried to attack mere moments ago, and now he was being given one of the deadliest weapons in the galaxy.

“But why would you hand over something like this so willingly?” Paul snapped the sword shut, extinguishing its light.

“As I said, I’m no Progenitor. It doesn’t do me a lot of good.”

“But…” Paul began, but he was cut off by the warp drive signal; they were just about to arrive at the station. Olasqy disappeared into the bridge; Paul followed soon after, examining the sword one last time before setting it back into its case.

The Intrepid was just entering real space: the warped star lines slowed to a standstill, then the busy space station was before them. Long lines of personal civilian ships stretched in and out of the giant spherical station, cargo freighters nearly the size of capital warships sat parked by the fueling depots, and a few Tuyet Voi light frigates were on patrol. Just what Paul wanted to see.

Olasqy brought the Intrepid in for a landing inside. He made a quick remark about how he might as well refuel and how hungry he was. Back in the kitchen, Paul gathered up what few belongings he had, his armor which was grotesque with blood and scratch marks, a torn cloak, and the silver map. He took another look at the cadami sword Olasqy had offered him.

“Take it. I get the feeling you’ll be needing it,” said Olasqy as he walked in.

“I can’t,” he shut the case. “A Progenitor’s weapon is earned, either by triumphing over all others in the Academy or by combat. I’ve claimed many by the latter.”

Olasqy placed his hand over the case, “this one is given freely. It’s not like the others, you know that. I can’t force you to take it, but how will you defend yourself?”

“The sword is merely an extension of a Progenitor’s abilities,” Paul stated, something he had said many times in his life. Olasqy conceded a nod of agreement.

“Listen, you don’t have to go back to the Tuyet Voi. Come with me to Kanchi; maybe we can learn Omega’s secrets.”

Paul had already heard enough about this supposed astrobeing. There were more pressing matters. He shook his head. “I must return to my fleet. I have to know what happened to them.” He opened the loading ramp, the bustling of the spaceport traffic flooded into the cabin. “I have shown you mercy for your trickery. You have my gratitude for the hospitality you’ve shown, and so we may call it even.” Paul left, disappearing into the crowds, content never to see Olasqy again.