We move swiftly over the sands. The carvers are wary of me. My lie will not hold much longer. I can see in their eyes they do not believe me, it is only a matter of time.
“Twenty clicks out.” The pilot says.
The grumbling man grunts, his hand resting near the holster on his belt. He watches me with prying eyes. I study my surrounds, looking for anything I can use. Hunching my shoulders to make myself look weaker. If it was a test of strength I am sure they would win, save the pilot, his body is frail. But I am Ulima, I will come for them when they least expect me, in a way they least expect.
“You know I have this theory about the Kuwathi. One that my cousin shares.” Betran says.
The grumbling man sighs but says nothing.
“Kuwathi were bred to be like dogs.” He says chuckling to himself “Their glowing eyes a product of entertainment for their masters.”
“Actually - In school I learned it was because…” the pilot begins.
“Did I fucking ask your opinion?” Betran barks.
“No boss, sorry boss.”
“Right, where was I - dogs, bred for their master’s entertainment. My cousin actually keeps one as a dog.”
He looks over to the grumbling man now.
“You’re awfully quiet. What’s your take on the dogs?”
“I am not wary of dogs, the Kuwathi are a different matter.” He grumbles.
Betran spins my knife on his hand looking at me, I can see in his eyes he wants revenge.
“So tell me about this Etherium your tribe found.” He says leaning in closer stabbing the knife into the crate, then pulling it out again “Describe it to me.”
“My tribes leader said it was enough to power one of the master’s cities for a year maybe more.” I lie.
The grumbling man and pilot seem interested but Betran is different. He is not a fighter like the man I am wary of, nor is he like the pilot. I get the feeling he is an expert at lying.
“That would be quite the prize.” Betran says picking dirt from under his nail with my knife “What color did you say it was exactly?”
He is testing me. Few Kuwathi have ever seen Etherium even in holo’s. I recall my time with Sage Artemius as a boy. I remember a holo he showed me. “Purple.” I say.
He takes pause for a moment, unsure if I am telling the truth still.
“There were streaks of silver metal running through it.” I say remembering more clearly the holo I saw many years ago.
Betran sits up, his eyes loosening their grip on me.
“Well boys, he might be telling the truth.”
“Boss - storm incoming about six hours out.” The pilot says.
“Fucks sake.” The grumbling man says “This gloweye planet is such a shithole.”
“Agreed.” Betran says, he is about to say something more but the comms on the ship explode with chatter.
The grumbling man finally turns his gaze away from me to look towards the pilot.
“The fucks going on.” He asks.
“I don’t know, Republic jargon.”
“Well find out.” Betran says now standing up and walking over to the comms.
The pilot turns on the comms and says “Uh hello there - this is…”
“Fucks sake.” The grumbling man says stepping over there now too “Move aside.”
He shifts to the side of the pilot’s chair close to the comms and presses it.
“Delta one, this is Carver group C50 from sector B135, requesting information on the Republic comms interference, over.”
The comms buzz and a voice speaks after a few moments “Delta one actual, all ships are to be grounded, return to the nest, I repeat return to the nest, over.”
“Roger, Delta one.”
“Well I’ll be, you used to be a Republic soldier.” Betran says.
The grumbling man says nothing. He sits back down looking to me again.
“Should I head back boss?” the pilot asks.
“No, this changes nothing.” Betran says.
There is no protest from the other two men. We are nearing the place I said it was, when suddenly a blinding light from the sky fills the cabin.
“By the gods…” the pilot shrieks.
My eyes readjust to the light as it begins to fade. I struggle against the metal of the ships hull, I realize quickly I won’t be able to break free. Sekat.
I focus to the large glass view port in front of the pilots chair and my eyes grow wide. In the skies above I see massive balls of fire and large ships falling from orbit towards the desert. I blink my eyes and they are still there.
“War must be coming.” The grumbling man says with a sigh.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
“Surely not, it’s been nearly fifty years since anyone broke the pact.” Betran says.
As I watch the starships fall, burning up in the atmosphere illuminating the night sky - seeing the countless lives lost, I suddenly feel an insignificance wash over me. My mind comes to focus when I see one of the flaming ships veering towards us.
“Move over.” The grumbling man says ripping the pilot out of the chair and throwing him.
Wham - whoosh. I feel the ship groan as he slams the accelerator and turns sharply. The blood throbs in my eyes. The pilot and Betran fly to the side of the cabin, I hang suspended in the air. The metal ring that holds the cuffs groans under the pressure. The ship above breaks apart as a blast hits it, spewing metal everywhere. The man swerves to avoid it.
Bang - scrape - bang - bang.
Something smashes into one side of the carver’s craft and we spin wildly. Red lights flash in the cabin. The grumbling man punches the panels with his stubby fingers correcting the spin. There are holes in the ship now, the metal groans and the wind swallows all other sound. Another explosion behind us, the shockwave rattles the ship.
Shrapnel sprinkles violently through the cabin whizzing past me. Clanging and pounding the ship. Blood splatters as a large piece sheers through the back and decapitates the man who grumbles no more. Sekat. The ship begins to slow, his lifeless hand no longer pushing the throttle down. I hear smaller explosions all around us, my ears are ringing.
We finally come to a halt after a minute and Betran stumbles up, a large cut on his brow. The pilot is shaking, he managed to strap himself to the wall.
“Holy fuck - Holy fuck!” Betran yells, he begins to laugh, I think he is in shock. He punches the codes for the loading bay door and it groans and snaps, the door falling off with a thud onto the sand.
I look out and I see a hellscape of fire and metal. Smoke billows into the night sky above. He walks outside and raises his hands into the air.
The pilot unbuckles and follows him warily.
“Boss we - we shouldn’t stay here.” He stammers, jumping at the explosions.
“Would you fucking relax.”
“Sorry boss, I just…” he begins, but never finishes as a large piece of metal smashes him to pulp spraying blood all over Betran.
“Shit - shit - shit.”
He wipes his eyes of the blood and turns to me. My hands still bound by metal and attached to the hull.
“What is that…” he says peering at something out of my view. He walks off towards it.
Looking around I try to see if I can reach anything with my legs. Before I can find anything he walks back. He raises his weapon towards me and fires. My eyes clench shut. I feel my arms fall down, no longer latched to the hull. I open my eyes slowly and look to him.
“Stop being so dramatic, let’s go dog.”
Standing now, my wrists still bound by the cuffs. Looking towards the sky as I exit the craft, I can’t help but feel maybe the gods have protected me. Pushing the thought from my mind I focus on the present. I move towards him slowly.
“No - no, stay the fuck back.” Betran says warily.
Can I close the five meters between us before he can kill me, better not to risk it.
“Over there, fetch doggie.”
Looking towards where he points I see a figure slumped on the ground clutching something. It looks like they fell in an escape pod but were injured or dead.
Pop - whoosh. He shoots the ground near my feet.
“Hurry the fuck up.”
Moving with a purpose I rush to the figure. They stir when I approach, trying to sit up. They clutch an object in their grasp desperately. What can be so important you grasp it in your dying breaths. There is something on their waist that I slip it into my grasp. I move them over as they groan, I see now it is a woman, a little older than me. Her deep blue hair hangs over her soot covered face. I push her hair back, one of her eyes opens in a daze. They match her hair, a deep blue. She looks at me for a moment and the eye closes. My heart is pounding as I am struck with how beautiful she is.
“She alive?” He asks loudly a mere five meters from me.
“Barely.” I say being pulled back to reality my heart slowing once more. Looking down at her waist, there is a steady stream of blood coming from her side. Yet still she clutches the box firmly.
“What is she holding?” he says stepping forward a meter.
“A box of some kind…” I begin but stop as I look closer I see there are markings on it. Ornate designs forming intricate patterns. There is writing on it that strikes me, it is in the old tongue of the Kuwathi.
“Well get a better fucking look. My cousin is right you know.” He sighs coming one step closer “Shit for brain dogs, the lot of you.”
Pulling at the box, her eyes open again. Her grip is stronger than I expected.
“Don’t let them get it - bring it to…” she says her eyes flitting her grip loosens as she passes out. Her voice soft on my ears stirring my heart once more.
“Well, what is it?”
I grab the box and turn to him back in the moment once more, a smile forms on my face as I read the words in the center.
“It reads - Jukora Katac.”
“The fucks that mean, give it here.” He says holding out a hand taking one more step forward, he is three meters from me now.
“In your tongue it means - Hail Thy Gods.” I say now beginning to laugh.
“The fucks so funny about that.”
“It is fitting.” I say tossing the box towards him - higher than eye level, he looks up and reaches out a hand “Because I send you to meet them.”
I raise my hand, in it a weapon I took from the woman’s belt, pointing it at him I pull the trigger. A red light flashes on the side. I pull again, nothing happens. Sekat.
He looks down and sees this now, his eyes wide he pulls his gun towards me and fires. I would be dead, but I am Ulima; my entire life I have trained for one singular purpose, to survive - kill or be killed. I roll towards him closing the gap, my ribs ache from where he kicked me earlier, his shot flying past me. As I roll I grab the knife hidden in my boot.
Pop - whoosh - pop - pop he fires quickly.
I roll again to the side, blade in hand as I rise to meet him, he is less than a meter from me now - it is my domain. He stumbles backwards his hands shaking as he desperately fires at me. It is too late though, I am upon him now. My blade finds purchase under his arm as I slide it across his arteries, slashing the tendons. His weapon drops from his hand. I stab him again under the arm before it hits the ground.
He tries to stop the bleeding desperately.
I lean into his ear and say “Woof.”
He stumbles to his knees. I drag my blade across his throat and kick him to the dirt. I lean down, grabbing his weapon and using his wrist device to unlock my cuffs. The strange black box in my hand now as I move to the carver ship. Sparks fly as I walk through towards the pilots chair. I push the no longer grumbling man from the chair and try to remember how they used it. The consoles and interface are soaked in blood. Moving a few levers and pushing the throttle forward I feel the ship groan as it moves forward.
A thought crosses my mind, I push it away. I do not have time for anything else. Arrum’s life depends on me. Sekat. I feel my hand slowing down the craft.
“Gods damnit.”
Moving with a swiftness I grab the medigel kit checking there is enough doses and rush towards the woman. I know I should leave her. She will be trouble for me. Better that I leave, yet my blade cuts open her clothes around the wound and my hand pulls out the metal shard. I inject the medigel. The wound closes, a film over it. Hoisting her over my shoulder I place her in the craft and buckle her to what’s left of the hull. Distant explosions remind me of the urgency and I push the throttle down all the way. The craft shakes violently but it holds as it roars forward. My hands are trembling - I breathe deep and calm my mind. Now is not the time to feel, it is the time of action.
***
We are a few miles from my city now, the twin suns beginning to rise. A storm on the horizon. The craft is making strange noises. Suddenly the lights begin to flash red, the ship comes to a halt. Sekat. Gathering what is useful I move out of the craft and stop yet again. Leave her I tell myself, she is not your burden.
“Sekat!” I curse loudly dropping everything, putting her on my back.
If I leave her here the other carvers will find her. Knowing a cavern a mile away I make the long journey towards it. My legs are tired, she is heavier than she looks. I hear her breathing in my ear, the only thing telling me she is alive. Why am I doing this.
Approaching the cavern now I plop her onto the ground and check her wound. She will need another dose before I leave to meet Nekam. Putting the medigel bag under her head I leave her and return to the ship gathering supplies, water and nutrition bars, along with everything else of value.