Moving through the strange metal city of the Arasha, I find myself lost among the lights and the sounds, the now green haired woman follows behind, eyes watch us as we move by, mouths whisper. They point to the clothes we wear, giggling at our expense. Above us there is a large ceiling, the webbing of metal struts across the top of it, tables line the area, people sit upon metal stools sipping drinks of strange colors, some which churn the stomach to look at.
“Stop following me.” I say finally.
“Not until you let me explain.”
My teeth grind, how will you explain why your name is more valuable than my life. There is no equivalent exchange between them, she does not see us as equals. Like all the others she sees me as a Kuwathi dog, good for amusement but unworthy of more. The rage froths. Moving to greater heights when I hear a familiar voice.
“What the hells are you two idiots doing!” Fennec yells, creating a larger scene than our attire, from his breath I can smell he is intoxicated, he stinks like the guards used to come market day, he points to the large bees embroidered on our chests, the dangling antenna bobbing back and forth “Look at what you’re wearing, no class either of you. You both have a death wish.”
“Move.” I say, trying to get around him. He blocks the way. The rage is threatening to spill out, thrashing at the edges. The blade the woman gave me strikes its second chord.
“No, whatever little spat you’ve had can wait, we have much more pressing concerns.”
“You will move, or you will hear the song of my blade.” I say looking into his eyes.
He stares back, he understands the threat, it is not uncommon among our people. I see the wheels of his mind turning. There is something more pressing than a blade weighing upon it. There is genuine fear in his eyes.
“Let him pass Fennec.” The woman says.
“Can’t do that.” He replies then letting out a groan he says “He killed our former associate with the psychotic disposition, and to…”
She interrupts “I know, he told me already, let him pass.”
“To – make – matters – worse!” he says loudly, emphasizing each word, clearly irritated she cut him off the first time, looking around at the people that listen he continues quieter now “He used the object we’ve just reacquired to do it.”
She spins looking at me wildly, her face rippling with turmoil, then she turns back to Fennec who nods deeply more than once. They speak of the black box. My heart is still twisting, looking at the woman causes the pain to deepen. I plant my foot firmly pushing Fennec out of my way, my own strength surprises me as he knocks into a man carrying drinks upon a tray.
“Slagging hells!” a man yells, he moves through the crowd towards me, his front is covered in the drinks from the tray that Fennec knocked into.
The rage in me is threatening to spill out as the pain in my heart fuels its ascent. I can feel from this man’s gait that he is familiar with fighting, but he is undisciplined, hurried in his anger to reach me. He pushes others over now.
His hand barely grazes my shoulder and the rage spins on him, taking his arm in a lock and breaking it. As he falls, I punch him twice in the kidneys and once in the nerve bundle in his neck with my knuckle extended. He writhes on the ground in pain, his free hand clutching his other arm. A snack that does not quell the rage that is beginning to spew forth.
“I just took a fracking shower!” Fennec yells as he throws a bottle at me, I stop in my tracks at the last second, the wind from it pushes at my bangs. His aim is good.
I turn my head towards him, he is less than ten meters off, breathing heavily, the fire of my people burning behind his eyes. He rolls his neck. From a look I can tell he wants to vent his frustrations as well. My eyes scan the room, looking at all the people, they do not see anyone besides the woman that would put up more of a fight then him. This rage desires relief, it wants to pummel his face, but there are those of my tribe counting on me, thousands of other Kuwathi I may yet help. My teeth grit as I move towards the rusted metal pods.
“Sek Sek!” Fennec says in the old tongue, his tone challenging, pushing through the crowd to meet me. The closest translation is Coward, although even that is not enough to describe it. Such a phrase leads to only one thing among my people… violence.
My ears prickle at the words, my pride rises faster than the first rays of light come dawn. The pride fueled rage grabs hold of my legs and spins me to meet him, my stride is swift as my eyes lock onto him. Scanning him for weaknesses in his gait. I feel his eyes do the same to me.
“Stop this!” the woman yells.
“Stay out of it.” Fennec growls, a sentiment I can agree with.
The crowd begins to move backwards from us, creating a large circle. He throws another bottle at me as I approach, my metal arm swats it from the air. The fingers still aren’t working properly but it is good enough to bludgeon. We do not circle each other as my people normally do, we lunge directly, both of our rages coming to greet each other. We do not aim to kill, we aim to cause pain.
He strikes at the nerve bundle under my arm as he dodges my first strike, only to play into my second which crashes into his cheek. He is well trained, there is balance in his footwork. But as we exchange blows, battering each other in the process, I can feel there is a difference in our movements. As I grow accustomed to the metal limbs, my pacing becomes quicker than his. The bruises upon his body a testament.
Striking towards his left side after he clipped my shoulder with a jab, I feel his leg smash into my flesh leg. The feeling of metal cracking against the bone, it stings but it is not broken. Sekat, I did not expect more than his arm was metal. His other leg kicks as I move backwards, the dynamic suddenly changing, my metal leg blocks, and I hear the twang of metal against metal. Only one of his appendages is flesh. In a battle of skill where both of us were all flesh, I would eclipse him before long, I am getting the hang of the new arm, but he is accustomed to his already, even using them as advantage, trying to break my bones.
I roll backwards almost hitting a table, I take a deep breath calming my nerves. He was raised Kuwathi, I can feel the movements of my people in him, he is very good at his craft. There is a difference between us however, I was raised as Ulima among our people, there is desperation in such an upbringing. Only the best can survive.
Jumping now on top of the table I almost hit, tilting it over to one side, dodging in the process as he lunges forward swinging the end of a stool at me. The table falls to its side, I kick it as hard as I can with both legs, landing back on my hands, then rolling to my feet. I do not stop as the table crashes into him. I move in its shadow and close the gap, grabbing a stool of my own and smashing it into his side as he rises from the broken table. He gasps as it hits his flesh arm, I hear a crack and I strike again and again. There is no longer any interest for me to continue, so I will end it quickly, the rage is settling enough for the focus to rise again.
He moves his hidden metal arm to block desperately. He tries to rise but is off balance, I kick him back over, striking him in quick succession in the neck, he chokes for air as I punch him in the jaw, his face goes slack as he falls over. The crowd of people gathered all start cheering, I turn to look at them – there is still hunger in my gaze, the cheers die down.
“You fought well.” I say to Fennec, though I am not sure he can hear me, his eyes are closed still. I limp towards the elevator like pods, the pain in my leg and ribs a reminder that my rage should not decide my actions.
“No!” I hear the woman yell. The sound of plasma shot follows, a gust of wind as it moves past my head, singeing my hair.
Whirling around the third chord of the blade’s song begs to be strummed, screaming for my hand to play its tune. The blade slides into my hand instinctually as I move towards Fennec who wrestles the woman with his plasma cannon arm. The woman is stronger than the servos in it, she slams it firmly to the ground. I move towards him still. He has tried to take my life, this will not stand.
“We have to kill him, he used it, you know what that means.” Fennec pleads.
“Stop this, I order you to stop.”
“I don’t take orders from you, he must die, you know this, you know what happens…”
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“I know the risks. We are not killing him.” She interrupts.
My metal foot steps on broken glass, the woman whirls around, seeing the blade in my hand she stands, blocking my way.
“That’s enough, from both of you.”
“Move.” I demand.
An alarm begins to sound all around us. Flashing red lights.
“Attention citizens – Unauthorized discharge of a plasma grade weapon detected – Security is enroute, please standby.”
“Slagging hells.” The woman says, turning her gaze.
In the moment of her distraction Fennec and I move with a swiftness to each other. I leap over the broken pieces of the table he aims his arm cannon. A shot narrowly misses my chest as I twirl in the air, my metal leg striking the side of his cannon before it can find purchase of my life. My blade reaches his neck, I feel heat from my side as my blade holds its pursuit.
“Got a plasma blade attachment in my knee too.” Fennec says with a crooked grin, looking down he holds it near my belly.
“Your blood will also paint the floor.” I say edging the blade closer to his carotid artery.
“Will you two stop and see reason – look!” she points towards the rusted metal pods. I can hear them grinding open, the squeal of breaks from other pods engaging.
Fennec sighs looking away for a second, my blade holds. I hear the movement of metal boots against the floor in the distance. My jaw flexes, my pride has led me to this place, jeopardized my ability to help my people. For what?
“Will the ghosts you carry be satisfied with such a death?” his words strike a chord in me, not of my blades wants, but something else.
“Will yours?”
He shakes his head, there is sincerity in his eyes now. He pulls his leg to the floor, the blade retracting. My blade slides from his throat, hanging at my side.
“We need to move.” The woman says.
“Akarlac.” Fennec says to me in the old tongue looking at the Arasha city guards.
“Akarlac.” I agree back.
Putting away the blade I follow the woman, the pain in my chest sliding to the back as worry begins to rise. Not worry for myself, but worry that I will not die a death befitting of the dead that cling to me.
“Why aren’t they shooting?” I ask.
“Too many noncombatants. If they corner us, they’ll light us up.” Fennec says passing through people fleeing, trying to use them to block him. I follow his lead.
“What’s the plan?” the green haired woman asks.
“Follow.”
We make it back to the Busy Bee hotel quickly. Metal boots pound behind us. They still do not shoot. Fennec blasts the handle off the door of our room. We step onto the platform that raises us upwards. The firing begins when we hit the landing of our room, 349. It is a rain of plasma that melts the metal to slag, one of the shots clips some of the fingers of my metal hand off, Sekat. I roll into the room, going low to the floor. Fennec limps, I see a burn through one of his legs. I turn and see the woman is trying to block the shots with the shield she used before, but the edges are turning red, like it is overloading. Everywhere not in her silhouette drips molten metal.
Fennec throws a blinking device from one of the bags he left on the floor earlier. A loud explosion rings moments later. Smoke billows outside and the shots pause. He stands, placing another device on the wall, turning the dial then pushing us to move behind the remains of a half melted wall.
“This is not a plan!” the green haired woman roars at Fennec.
“Always underestimating me, I picked this dump of a roach hotel for one reason. This room specifically for the same reason.”
Boom – whoosh. Air rushes from the hole in the wall.
“Maintenance duct that leads straight to the hanger.” Fennec explains as he hobbles towards it, peering below. He kicks out the metal, making the hole larger, then grasps the wire that hangs within it with his robotic hand and gives a fake curtsy saying “My lady.”
He jumps from the edge, sliding down on one hand, his other arm which I broke dangles to the side. The woman runs to what’s left of the bathroom grabbing up her clothes and a bag, then pushes me towards the hole. I hear metal hands trying to climb up the wall outside the room. She fiddles with something, trying to wrap it around the metal wire. Sekat. My metal fingers half melted off, I wrap my arm like a snake around the wire and grab her from the waist with my arm made of flesh. Pulling her with me as I begin my descent into the depths of the dark metal chute.
She looks at me as we fall, her hair catching the wind, blowing straight up. My jaw flexes, I don’t know why I even grabbed her, the stinging in my heart coming closer to my mind. As we fall I can’t help but feel my aching heart flutter for her still.
She tries to say something, but the wind and the grinding of my metal arm against the wire catches it.
“I am sorry.” She repeats, louder this time.
I turn from her. I do not want her hollow apology. Light approaches us quickly, I flex the metal arm tightening its hold of the wire, sparks spray outwards making me avert my eyes. We come to a rough stop at the bottom. Fennec is already a hundred meters in front of us, moving towards a massive room which has hundreds of starships, large gears move them on platforms in different directions until they come to rest in columns, stacked neatly to save space.
Running after him, to my left I see daylight, an open hanger door. I look back at the woman then to the door, changing my course towards it and not Fennec.
“Come with me – please.” She says.
Giving no reply, as I am nearly to the daylight. When I reach it, I see I am a few hundred meters up. I descend from the beams of metal; my years spent climbing the dead ships in the sands of my planet paying off. She does not follow me directly; she curses as I move rapidly downwards leaving the edge, disappearing from my sight.
I am nearly to the bottom when I look up and see her, she jumps from the beams, landing ten meters below each time, my eyes blink three times, not believing themselves. How her legs have not broken yet is beyond me. She will be upon me soon if I don’t hurry.
Making it to a rooftop, I scramble down onto it, she is not far behind. Sekat. Her speed is monstrous, had she been holding back before? I realize I can’t beat her in the rooftops very quickly, I leap from it, sliding down a drainpipe, the joint that holds it snaps as my weight brings it to bear. Tumbling downwards, I land on an outstretched fabric breaking my fall. Rolling off it I hear someone scream, drawing my attention. The green haired woman jumps from the rooftop some thirty meters above, landing on the same fabric I did, the supports snap as she hits it. Dust sprays into the air. My heart sinks for a moment, then I see her rising from the debris, her eyes locking onto mine, my heart begins to flutter louder in my chest. Sekat. I turn and run.
Jumping through people, climbing over carts and tables, knocking goods over, all the years of climbing coming to me once more as I flee with expert precision. She reaches out a hand almost grabbing me, I jump through an open door, scrambling through people bathing and yelling at me pointing knives, I jump towards the second story using boxes upon the ground to aid my ascent. Leaping from the window landing on a roof below.
“Wait!” I hear the green haired woman yell from behind me, her voice making my heart skip a beat, almost tripping me.
Ignoring her pleading and jumping across the rooftops again, I slide down one roof and leap to another, I turn looking for her but she is gone, I climb higher, trying to put distance between where I saw her last. After another few minutes I scan the area, not seeing her, I turn back around and she is there in front of me.
She holds her blade of light, extended and pointed at me, her face is conflicted. How did she get here, how is she so fast, how is she able to fall ten meters like its nothing. The thoughts rush in my mind. How is she able to dent metal walls when Fennec’s metal hand could not.
Even if I could fight her with the blade that turns everything to dust, I fear my heart may protest, even in its anguish it still wants to beat for her. I stop and hold my hands up as the blade inches closer.
“I thought I wasn’t your prisoner.” I say to her as I look behind me seeing a three-story drop, my feet on the edge.
“You don’t understand what’s at stake, you don’t even know what you’ve done to yourself by using it.” she says, her face skewed with sadness.
She speaks of the black box, or Black Edict as they call it.
“How could I when you don’t even trust me with a name.” I say to her, turning my head to look behind me. My eyes scan for anything I can use to slow my descent.
“You won’t let me explain.” She says, there is frustration mixing with her sadness.
My mouth begins to laugh, but it is not because it is funny or I am happy, it is the torrid state of sadness gripped by anger that causes it.
“You laugh at me, all I want is to help you.” She says, the blade lowers with her eyes.
“I do not laugh at you!” I yell, spit flies from my mouth, her eyes look up at me, my anger falls back “I laugh because you think an explanation can satisfy the gap you make between us.”
“I don’t understand.” She says.
“You think there are words that can be spoken to explain why your name is more valuable than my life.”
“That is not what I said.” She protests.
“Isn’t it? You say trust me, I am tortured by a lunatic and then you expect me to still trust you.”
“That…”
I punch the wall nearest me, she grows quiet so I can finish. My eyes close for a moment searching for the calm. When they open I have found it.
“Your people do not even call me by name – because it is not worthy of the effort for their tongue to utter it.” I say clenching my fist “When I swallow my pride to ask for yours, so I might know it, so I might say it, you…” the sadness is welling in me, the disparity between us, my mouth does not move further on the subject, for fear that my eyes might betray my Kuwathi spirit as my heart breaks. The words from my mouth cementing in my mind the truth. There is too great a gap between us, in mindset and station. I am meant to be the ant beneath her benevolent boot, meant to bow and scrape. She will never understand me, nor the struggles my people have endured because of hers.
Turning from her, facing the three-story drop, I see a ledge now, but I am not sure I can make it.
“Either kill me, or let me go. There is nothing else to say between us.” I say to her.
I hear the blade retract.
“Kale…” she begins, but a loud whooshing stops her.
Turning I see it is a small shuttle, through the open loading bay door I see Fennec moving towards her.
“We need to go – now my lady!” Fennec yells over the sound of the stabilizers.
She nods to him, he returns to the cockpit strapping in. I do not look upon her, my heart cannot bear it.
“Lunara!” She yells over the noise, stepping forward towards me “I am the Heir apparent of House Raven!”
The chords of my heart loosen as the melody of her name is told to it by my ears. The rhythm of pain changes slowly to a beat she has begun to carve into me, as I turn to meet her gaze, I see she holds out a hand towards me.
“My name is Lunara, it is a pleasure to meet you – Kale.” The green haired woman says.
My heart burns as I hear her say my name again. That which once withered begins to seek the light, my hand reaches towards hers, pulled by the gravity of her words, by the gravity of her kindness, a kindness I have never known among the masters, and scarcely seen even among my own people, she is an anomaly to me. She is the exception to the hatred I feel for her people. My mind wanders back to the words of Keeper Dargo, about opening my heart to others not of my people. A feeling rises in me as she gently pulls me by the hand towards the shuttle. I have seldom felt it whisper to my heart strings before, but the melody pleases my ear and soothes my soul.