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Descendants of a Dead Earth
Chapter 21: A Prayer Before Dying

Chapter 21: A Prayer Before Dying

They were marched at gunpoint to the quarantine site, with Velsa in the lead. Kaihautu Yugha seemed skeptical of her claims, yet it also seemed to intrigue him. Blye was certain anything even remotely associated with the Precursors would be valuable beyond words to the Troika, yet the rarity of such items left them dubious. If they discovered it to be nothing but a fool’s errand, Velsa’s life expectancy could be measured in minutes.

But it wasn’t, of course. Unless Spata Zhai had pulled off some kind of miracle, the Aggaaddub would soon see the truth themselves. When that happened…

Blye stumbled as a guard shoved her with the barrel of their weapon, her mind frantically struggling to come up with a plan to stop this. Only it was hopeless, and she knew it. She had no time, no resources, few allies, and an enemy who held all the cards. The odds were good that in less than an hour, she and the other Knights would all be dead.

The camp was strangely empty as they made their way to the vault. News traveled fast in places like this, and the shuttles had been visible for kilometers. The refugees were survivors, first and foremost, and avoiding confrontation with the Aggaaddub was instinctual for them. Keep your head down and pray they don’t see you.

She and her fellow Terrans knew all about that. It was how they’d survived as well.

No Ixian sentries blocked their path as they approached the site. Apparently, they’d been warned. Nor did she spy any of the Qi-Tam quarantined there; it seemed they too were making themselves scarce in order to avoid the Aggaaddub’s wrath. Only Spata Zhai and Amar could be seen in the vault's vicinity, the alien warrior at attention, his face a mask, while their fellow Knight stared at them in helpless dismay.

Velsa came to a halt. “It’s right there,” she pointed, as Blye winced in torment. They hadn’t had the time to properly hide it, a scattering of branches and whatever else they’d scrounged in the short time she’d been gone did little to disguise the vault’s true nature.

Kaihautu Yugha scrutinized the ancient edifice before spotting the last remaining Terran. “Seize him,” he ordered, as two guards split off from the group and grabbed him up, dragging him to join the others. The humans shared a look of resignation as he forced them to their knees, while the Bamidh captain chortled with glee at their fate.

Nothing would save them now.

The Troika commander approached the blue-skinned officer. “You. Ixian,” he snapped, before pointing at the poorly camouflaged structure. “Clear that rubbish from the entrance,” he ordered.

The Spata hesitated. Blye silently pleaded with him, giving him a quick headshake. There was no sense getting himself killed over a point of honor, even though she knew his race was touchy on the subject.

The Aggaaddub commander raised a sidearm and pointed it at his head. “Do as I command, or prepare to greet your ancestors,” he snarled. “Your treasonous ‘Alliance’ isn’t here to save you.”

She could see the battle being waged behind his eyes with brutal clarity. The last thing in the world he wished to do was give in to these arrogant bastards, but neither did he wish to die a senseless death, without so much as a blade in his hand. She saw him tense as he weighed his chances, gauging how many of the hated Troika warriors he might strike down before they killed him. She saw his foot shift, moving into a fighting stance, her heart breaking as she realized she was about to watch him die.

And then the moment passed.

The tension flowed out of him like water as he bowed his head, acquiescing to the Kaihautu’s order. Their eyes met once again, as he wordlessly begged her forgiveness.

There is nothing to forgive, her mind whispered. She hoped he could see it in her face.

The Ixian warrior turned away and began clearing the entrance. He moved slowly, mechanically, his very actions fighting his every natural impulse. Surprisingly, the commander didn’t hurry him along, prepared instead to simply wait until he was finished. But even at his methodical pace, the work was completed less than fifteen minutes later. Once the entrance was emptied, he stepped aside, standing rigidly once more while refusing to meet the gaze of the Troika overlords. Given the circumstances, it was likely the closest he could come to outright defiance.

Kaihautu Yugha and a handful of officers stepped into the vault and out of sight, while Blye and the other Knights held their breath. There was little to see inside that first chamber, other than a raised platform, and unlike the Terrans, they couldn’t activate the machinery.

Holy Mother Terra, let them believe there is nothing here, she prayed.

Several minutes later, the Aggaaddub came tromping back out, their leader stopping and facing Spata Zhai. “What did you find here?” he asked him.

The Ixian shrugged. “Only what you see,” he answered, as nonchalantly as he could manage.

Blye held her breath as Kaihautu Yugha considered his response and weighed his options. Anything related to the Precursors had to be a priority for the Troika, at least under normal circumstances. With the war against the Yīqún and the infighting among the Troika itself, perhaps their resources were stretched thinner than she’d imagined. Maybe that left them unable to exploit it, at least for now. It might give them some breathing room, a chance to call for reinforcements, or even an opportunity to sneak back into the vault.

If that ancient computer was programmed to follow her instructions, maybe she could tell it to wipe its memory… or even to self-destruct. Looking back, she realized now she should have done that when it first linked with her mind. Anything to keep it from the Troika.

“... ask them,” Velsa said shrilly, pointing at the Knights and dashing their last bit of hope, “they’re the only ones that can access it.”

Stolen novel; please report.

“That fucking traitor bitch,” Amar snarled, only to earn a buttstroke to the head. The heavy crack left him reeling as a line of blood appeared near his temple.

The Aggaaddub turned as one towards the three Terrans. “Is that so?” Kaihautu Yugha said carefully, eyeing Blye. “And how do you know this?” he asked the nurse.

“Everyone knows it!” she answered, her voice growing even more high-pitched. “Ask him,” she continued, now pointing at Spata Zhai, “he was with her!”

All eyes swung back to the Ixian as his stoic façade crumbled. There was anger in his eyes now... anger at Velsa, anger at the Aggaaddub... even as his sword hand twitched, hovering above the hilt of his blade.

Don’t do it, please don’t do it, she prayed frantically, as the Troika commander brought up his sidearm.

“... Bring me the Terrans,” he hissed, never taking his eyes from Spata Zhai.

The three Knights were dragged over to the vault, before being forced back down to their knees. The Kaihautu approached Blye and grabbed a handful of hair, pulling her head back to a painful angle as he peered down at her.

“Is this true?” he challenged her.

She tried to pull free, but the Aggaaddub commander held her fast. Blye glared back at him, her mouth in a hard line as she refused to answer.

“You forget just how fragile a position you are in, Terran,” he taunted her, before jerking his head at one of his subordinates. “Gather refugees, and bring them to me,” he ordered, as a squad of guards hurried to comply.

“No, please,” Blye begged, “they’re no threat to you.”

The Kaihautu jerked her to her feet, staring into her eyes. “Then tell me what I wish to know.”

Behind her she heard screams as helpless Qi-Tam were dragged from their huts and brought before the commander. The guards seemed to have chosen them at random; the very young and the aged, those still suffering from Pesychu and those almost recovered, male, female, all were brought before him and forced into ragged lines. They stood trembling in fear, clutching one another as he raised his hand.

“Last chance, Terran,” he said. “Tell me what you know of the vault… or watch your charges die.”

He’ll do it, you know he’ll do it; she howled inside her mind. You swore to protect them.

And if the Troika gains access to the vault? Who will protect them then? another part of her consciousness cried out.

No matter which path she chose, innocents would suffer.

The Aggaaddub commander spun her about, so she was facing the refugees. “Don’t do this, please don’t do this!” Blye whimpered as the guards raised their weapons. The whine of pulse rifles filled her ears as they took aim. The refugees screamed in terror, clinging to one another as they cried out, begging her to save them.

Something inside her broke. She couldn’t just let them die. She couldn’t.

“... alright,” she surrendered, “I’ll do whatever you want.”

Kaihautu Yugha’s expression was one of triumph. “Yes,” he rumbled, “… I know you will.”

And then swept his arm down as the guards opened fire.

Blye screamed as the helpless Qi-Tam were blown apart. Pulse rifles were brutal weapons, transmitting enormous bursts of energy to their targets. Organic matter struck by the blast was instantly boiled away, the cell walls ruptured and torn to shreds. Velsa hid her face and turned away, while Spata Zhai’s expression became hard as stone.

To the casual observer, it looked as if they had exploded.

The alien commander released her, letting her fall to the ground as she howled in anguish, before signaling to release the other Knights as well. They both went to her side, doing their best to comfort her, but all she could see were the expressions on the victims’ faces as they were ripped to pieces.

An image that was seared into her brain, forever.

She felt the Kaihautu’s breath against her ear as he crouched down beside her. “There are ten thousand hostages in this camp… ten thousand reasons for you to obey my every command. And should you choose to defy me, I will make you watch as I execute them all, one by one.” He grasped her chin and yanked upward to see his face. “Do we understand each other, Terran?”

“Yes,” she whispered, fighting back hot tears, “... I understand.”

“Splendid,” he all but purred. “Now show me what you have uncovered.”

Prash and Amar helped her to her feet, supporting her as they slowly made their way to the vault. Blye moved as if she were in a daze, as if none of this were quite real. The other Knights shared a worried look; they recognized the symptoms of shock she was exhibiting. In time, those would pass, assuming she was allowed to rest, but given the circumstances, that looked more and more unlikely. All they could do was monitor her and hope nothing else happened to her in the interim.

Captain Shunaadh, who up till now had wisely remained silent while the Aggaaddub went about their business, approached Kaihautu Yugha. “Honorable commander,” he groveled, “as it was information I provided that led you here, surely there must be some sort of reward?” he said eagerly, almost salivating at the prospect.

The Kaihautu raised his hand, bringing the group to a halt. “You are quite correct,” he replied, “you and your crew do deserve something for your efforts.” He removed a comm unit from his waist and spoke; “Yugha to Implacable. Is the Bamidh vessel still in proximity?”

Someone aboard the ship replied immediately. “It is, Kaihautu.”

A scaled lip curled over the reptilian’s teeth. “... destroy it.”

Shunaadh’s earnest expression vanished as a look of horror washed over him. He shook his head, raising his hands and slowly backing away. “Please... we need no reward…” he stammered, as the commander raised his weapon once more.

“I disagree… betrayal should always be rewarded,” he cackled, as the merchant captain turned and ran, a loping, awkward gait, his spindly arms and legs pumping madly as he tried to escape. The Kaihautu casually sighted in on the retreating trader’s back and squeezed the trigger.

A fist-sized hole exploded through his chest as his lifeless body tumbled into the dirt. Satisfied, the Aggaaddub commander re-holstered his weapon.

Blye stared at the sight with dread. “Why did you do that?” she gasped.

A deep rumbling laugh emerged from his chest. “You cannot tell me you mourn his death, or the deaths of his crew. They would certainly not mourn yours.” Her jaw set in a hard line as she glared up at him. “The Troika has long been known for its savagery, but these deaths were needless. No one had to die today, save for your own sick pleasure.” She turned her head and spat on the ground.

Once again, his massive paw snatched her up, lifting her from the ground. “Would you like me to gather more hostages?” he asked her point blank.

His blunt words bashed through her defiance. Glumly, she shook her head.

“Do not test me, Terran,” he growled. “As for the good captain, anyone willing to turn their coat once will easily do it twice… and I have no illusion his ilk love my people.” That same crocodile smile appeared on his face. “Better to surround yourself with those you know to be your enemy.”

Blye had no answer to that. She’d never interacted with any of the Troika before today, but after what she’d just seen, she was certain all three races had to be deeply psychotic.

Is this how Samara felt? she wondered. All those years, a slave in everything but name to the Eleexx, doing their bidding, while a time bomb sat inside her skull, just waiting to be triggered. She finally escaped her fate, though, with a little help from a certain Knight.

When a madman holds your leash, the only move is to cooperate… and wait for your chance.

“... we are wasting time,” he continued. “Take us to the artifact. Now.”

Taking a deep breath, Blye gripped the hands of her fellow Chevaliers… and entered the vault.