Two long days have passed since the incident. My dreams each night replaying the horror. It was not the first time I have killed to survive, but I have few notches to compare it to. My hand trembles as I sit up from the wall. I grab them to quiet the tremors. The others tell me it is normal, but I can’t help but feel weak for it. I look over at Arrum on the bunk, he is wrapped in bandages, the shallow wheeze the only sign he still lives.

Across from him I see Nevari checking the bandages. Her face does not look happy like it normally does. She gives me a look, one I know too well. I move towards him and look under the bandages and feel the skin, it is hot.

“He needs medigel.” She says to me glumly “I fear the infection will kill him without it.”

Wiping the sweat from his brow with my sleeve I nod to her and look for Nekam. I find him huddled in the corner with his brothers. I wait for him to acknowledge me with a wave of his hand to approach.

“You are here about Arrum?” He asks me.

“I am.”

“I do not have what you seek.”

“Can we trade for it?” I ask him almost pleading.

“We can’t risk our supplies. There is no telling when another ship comes. Market is only a few weeks away.” He says. His brothers nod in agreement.

“My chief, did we not already give enough?” I ask him, thinking of the armors they have hidden in the walls.

“That is that and this is this.” Nekam says pulling me aside now away from the others in more hushed tone “We cannot sell the armor without being found out. So you see, it has no value for trade.”

“My chief.” I begin but he raises a hand.

“I cannot spare it. For one dose of medigel it costs five bags of good scraps. He will need more than one.”

Recalling the bags Arrum and me buried by the last ship we scavenged I say “My chief, I have enough for at least one, maybe two if you give a little.”

He looks at me scratching his beard.

“You have a hidden cache?”

I nod. He laughs slapping me on the back.

“Clever little Ulima.” He says then pulls me back to his brothers and bids me to tell them.

After telling everything to them they scratch their beards and speak amongst themselves.

“The carvers took the ship, it will be too dangerous for us to go.” One says.

“Arrum is our blood, Ulima or not, we should at least allow the boy to try.” Another says.

They all weigh the words and nod in agreement.

“How do you plan to get out of the city and back in?” Nekam asks me now leaning back in his seat, his arms crossed “With that many bags, they will take at least half.”

Sekat. I hadn’t thought of that. He chuckles at my silence.

“I will show you a way. We used to use it as children to sneak out.” He says.

“Thank you, my chief.”

He nods to me and waves me off. I return to my bunk to say goodbye to Arrum. It may be the last time I see him.

“What did he say?” Nevari asks as I return.

Placing my hand on Arrum’s chest I say “Kada, be strong. Bata U’ton - I will get what you need.” In the old tongue Bata U’ton means simply - on my life. It is a sacred vow among my people, one not said often.

“How will you get it?” she asks me grabbing my arm.

I pull away but her grip is firm. I can see Nekam eying the interaction but he does not intervene.

“Where will you go?” she asks me, her tone concerned.

I stand in silence not meeting her eyes.

“You will get yourself killed for a fools errand. Do you think this is what Arrum wants?”

“My life is my own.” I say at last.

“Fool - You are a fool Kale.” With that she releases her grip and storms off.

Nekam comes to me now.

“You are ready?”

***

It takes us more than a few hours to reach the destination. It is above the main level of the domed city of patchwork metal, in the rafters. The climb is dangerous, the metal rusted and bent. We are accustomed to worse when we scavenge - so we manage.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“This is it.” One of the brothers says eying a bent panel in the thick wall.

“No - it is this one.” Nekam says pointing to another.

“Ah yes, I remember now.” He grunts to which Nekam grumbles something under his breath.

They slide the panel back and a small chute is behind it, darkness in its depths with a shallow light at the bottom from the suns glow.

“We will be back in one day after the suns set with a rope, if you are not there to climb it. Your fate is your own.” Nekam says.

“Understood, my chief.” I say sliding into the hole, they tie a rope around my waist and hoist me down.

“I have never met an Ulima so willing to throw his life away.” He says as I am swallowed by the darkness.

After a time I feel the tug of the rope.

“Sekat… I told you to grab the long rope.” Nekam says loudly to his brother, his voice an echo through the chute.

I can’t hear the brothers reply. Arrum doesn’t have time to wait for us to go back and get another rope. I look down it’s only five meters, the sand will soften the blow. Pulling my blade from my waist I cut the rope and fall the rest of the way thudding on the sand.

“One day after the suns set!” Nekam yells through the chute.

“Understood, my chief!” I yell back.

Taking note of the area on the ship I have come from I mark the side with my cutter. I see many other marks that look similar. Pushing my feet through the sand I begin the long walk to our buried prize. I will not fail my bonded brother. I will not.

My legs are tired, I have walked for many hours now. In the distance I can see the ship. There are transport ships loaded with the beams of sections of the upper frame. Panels from the hull lay in a massive pile next to it. The sun is beginning to set, I will wait for it. I must make the night my domain to avoid the Carvers.

***

The suns have set and the glow moons is high now. The transport ships have left. It appears no one is here. Stalking carefully low to the sands I move to where we hid the bags. Keeping an eye on my surroundings - I begin sifting through the sand. Feeling one of the bags I pull it up. Something is wrong. I reach my hand in the bag. It is only sand.

“No - no - no.”

Frantically I push the sand out of the way. Finding another I heft it to the surface ripping the strings open. Sand. Only sand.

“Why do you curse me!” I yell to the skies pounding the ground.

Suddenly I feel a shifting in the sand grabbing my attention. It swirls and shakes and a large net erupts forth pulling me in a heap choking on sand. Blinding lights flash on. Through my fingers I make out two figures, my heart sinks into despair.

“I told you - I told you!” one of the men yells with glee hoping up and down.

Another man grumbles and spits on the ground, he says something under his breath but I can’t make it out.

“Oh Betran - no one’s stupid enough to…” in a mocking tone the first begins but the grumbling one cuts him off.

“Alright - Alright, fuck off Betran.” He says then comes over to me looking me over.

“You owe me thirty deca.” Betran says with a coy smile holding out a hand.

“Put it on my tab.”

Betran comes to me now as well looking me over.

“Will your tribe pay a ransom?” he asks me.

“No.” I admit.

“Shame, to the mines then.” The grumbling one says.

Thinking quickly I say “Wait - I have something of great value.”

They both cross their arms looking at me with cold unbelieving eyes.

“I know where a deposit of Etherium is - my tribe found it a few weeks ago.” I lie, hoping their greed will get the better of them.

The hum of a Carver ship moving across the sand fills the cool night air.

“Bullshit.” Betran says rolling his eyes, the annoyance grows quickly as he approaches and kicks me - again and again. I try to move but am tangled in the net still. Sekat. I manage to pull my cutter and slice the rope. Grabbing the mans leg and throwing him off balance. I dig the blade of my knife into his thigh.

Hearing a pop and whoosh, I look next to me, sand turned to glass, molten still.

“I will blow your fucking head off. Let go of the knife and step the fuck back.” The grumbling man says, his eyes wide. He holds a plasma pistol in his hands, the grip not shaking.

He is too far from me to reach, I release the knife and crawl backwards with my hands raised. I should have gone for him first.

“He fucking stabbed me!” Betran howls clutching his leg in pain.

“To be fair you were beating on him.”

Betran looks at him with anger.

The carver ship is upon us now, the loading bay door opens with a creak. A man walks out from it, goggles on his forehead. His clothes look dirtier than the others.

“What the hells happened to you?” he asks Betran who nurses the blade in his thigh.

“Fucker stabbed me.”

“Did you deserve it?” He asks looking at the other man with a grin.

“Piss off.” Betran replies.

The grumbling man still has his weapon pointed at me. His aim steady. He does not turn when he speaks. He is wary of me.

“Cuff this one, then get Betran on the ship. This little shit says he knows where some Etherium is.”

“We got enough charge for a couple hundred clicks or so.” The man with goggles replies coming to me.

I hold my hands out and allow him to cuff me. The metallic device closes quickly - pressing tightly against my skin. He frisks me, finding my small laser cutter and one of my other knives.

“Right then, get on.” The man pointing the plasma gun says.

He stays two paces behind me, even when I slow down he follows my speed.

“Wasn’t born yesterday keep moving.” He says.

Sekat. I really should have gone for him first. They sit me down inside the ship, it is not large, enough for six people to sit. There are some large crates being used for benches. The man does not holster his weapon until I am locked to the hull.

“Going to pull it out in three - two.” He yanks my blade out tossing it to the floor.

Blood sprays from the wound as the man tries to hold it closed with his hands.

“Gods - I’m going to die…” Betran says his face growing pale.

“Oh shut up - grab the medigel. He’s got a nicked artery.” He says barking at the man with goggles.

There is no one else in the craft besides the three of them and me. The man with the goggles must be the pilot. I will need him.

“Here.” The pilot says tossing him a case.

“Don’t just throw me the fucking thing - get a dose out - and for fucks sake take a damn shower.”

The pilot grits his teeth and opens the case, there are ten vials. I will need those to save Arrum. There is will in me now. Hope through the despair. The pilot stabs the vial into Betran’s leg near the wound, the injector hisses and he screams in pain for a moment then silence as it begins to foam around the wound. Within a minute the wound is closed, a hard film over it.

“That’s better - oh that’s better.” Betran says then looks at me, a deep malice in his eyes “If you’re lying, my cousin will flay you alive and make you watch as your entrails…”

“Always on about your big shot cousin, fucks sake man.” The grumbling man says.

“If you’re lying I’m making you a permanent ornament on my windshield.” Betran says after a few moments.

“Much better.”

“Right-o boss.” The pilot says with an evil giggle.

Betran stands up walking towards me grabbing my face “Now – where the fuck is it.”