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KALON
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Chapter Forty-One: Ador Jahal
Galactic Quadrant: Darna Quadrant
Ruling Government: Talum Merchant Federation
Solar System: D-447
Planet: Ora
Location: Beneath the planet's surface, Naro City
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It has been hours since they put me in a bag, I have slept for most of it, trying to regain some of my strength. What Yuri put in my pocket does give me some hope, so long as I can keep it out of sight. Why did he help me? Was it the Sage’s guidance weighing on him? He often spoke against selling our people, regardless of need or gain.
The bitterness in me still shuffles around with the anger at the betrayal. Nevari did not say a single word to me. After everything. All these years together and not a single word. Her betrayal stings the most. Her father’s, there is some understanding in it, despite the coldness it fills me with.
“Alright put the cargo down right there.” A man says, I cannot see him through the bag, but given his accent, he is Arasha. The second lowest caste in the Master’s society. Just above us Kuwathi. So it is they who are to buy me. I wonder if it is the same ones who bought the expedition team. If it is, perhaps I can find the brothers, if they still live. Soreness in my chest, not from injuries, but the guilt. They looked at me and Arrum as their leaders, I have failed them, terribly.
Pressing the distressing thoughts, I think on the Arasha now. The only difference between us is the glow in our eyes. The Sage told me that once we were all the same. Arasha and Kuwathi. Yet the way they treat us, you would not know it. If they do take me from the city, there is no hope that I will see Arrum again. Despair grasps my heart. Perhaps it is better like this, he will thrive without me.
“You have what was promised?” Nekam asks him, his tone is calm and measured. Hearing his voice scratches at my chest, the bitterness I feel echoes higher with each word.
“First we need to inspect the goods.” The man replies, letting out a grunt “Our boss is skeptical, to say the least.”
“Of course,” Nekam says.
The bag opens, and light floods my eyes as they pull me roughly out of the bag. They pat me down all over my body. Checking me for weapons. They missed the small blade in my boot’s heel. There are three men. One is a small build with goggles that rest on his forehead, he smells like he has not bathed in a week. The next is taller with bulging veins over his large muscles. The way he carries himself, I instantly know he is the one I must be wary of. He does not speak, he only grumbles under his breath. His eyes watch Nekam and the others warily as he holds an energy weapon. Scars on his forearm tell me he is not unfamiliar with knife fighting. Making me more wary of him.
My shoulders are hunched, my back slouched as I lean heavily into the ones who hold me, pretending to be much weaker than I am. Though in truth, I am still weakened. My body still aches all over like I was smashed by an avalanche.
The last man of the three smells strangely like he is coated in something that is supposed to smell nice, but doesn’t. His attire is different from the other two who look more like mercenaries. This man looks more like a merchant. Thick expensive furs belonging to animals not of this world. He is more of a threat than the small stenchy man, but less than the grumbling man. Still, there is a strange look in his eyes, like he is lacking emotions. I am wary of him as well. Eyes like his often bring cruelty.
“Well don’t just sit around waiting Kuwathi dogs, prove what you said.” The third man says tapping his foot impatiently.
Nekam flexes his jaw but says nothing to the offense. He pulls from his pocket a small metal box. I feel it before I see it. Netherium. A small shard. He picks it up with a metal tool and presses it against my skin until it pierces the flesh. My blood rolls down it, causing it to glow brighter as the Netheric Maka begins to flow into me. The chant enters my mind.
Embrace the Abyss
Even from this small shard, I feel the energy strengthening my weak frame. However, something inside still feels wrong, like I took in too much before and it damaged me somehow. Perhaps there is some kind of…
“Did I really come out all this way to this dump for this slag?” The third man who looks to be a merchant asks, his tone is irritated.
Nekam does not speak, he waits for them to see.
“Betran, boss, he wasn’t lying. Something strange is happening.” The small man says, grabbing the tool from Nekam, and holding the shard up to the light.
Black streaks form in the Netherium shard, crumbling bits of it away. Just like before… why? Is my body breaking it down? I think back to the Shulka now, it died after it bit me… did my blood kill it? Is that even possible? So many questions fill my mind. Yet I cannot ask, my mouth is full of more than just spite. It hides the thing that Yuri gave me. The only place they did not think to check when they searched me. When they are not looking, I will try to put it back in my pocket. I must be careful though, the grumbling man seems very observant. Every time I shift he shoots me a glance.
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“Look, boss.” The small man says moving it closer to the merchant-looking man he called Betran.
“I see that, but what is more alarming is that your breath is rancid.” Betran says, recoiling backward from him “When was the last time you took a shower? You smell worse than a Kuwathi.”
Nekam and the others with him do not rise to the offense. Killing an Arasha would mean death for the entire Clan. Even if they are the second lowest caste, they are still above us. This much we all know.
The one in charge, Betran, grabs the shard with the tool and holds it up to the light. A grin slides over his mouth.
“My cousin will definitely want to see this.” Betran says, placing the shard inside a vial and sealing it, he turns his back and moves towards the shuttle waving a hand lazily “Pay them and let’s get out of this slagging dump.”
The grumbling man grabs me roughly by the shoulder, he is stronger than I expected as he drags me on board. I have never been inside a shuttle before. My eyes take in new sights, all while trying to appear weak and submissive, which is not hard, given my condition. Large metal boxes line the sides of the shuttle, bolted in place on the floor and the wall. There is some type of cargo netting that is affixed to the ceiling, with strands that hang down over where straps are attached to the wall. Some kind of restraining apparatus. There are shallow compartments in the ship's hull, some of them locked closed with hazard symbols. Others are open with things messily strewn about and stuffed in them.
Nekam and his men grab crates from the shuttle, marked with Medigel and weapons symbols. I wonder if the City Chief knows of this. Buying weapons without his authorization can mean death. It is strange though, I recognize the gait of one of the people with him, but I cannot place from where I know it yet. Their tempo is somewhat erratic and uneven, as though they are dancing… my eyes peer closer, is it…
“Kalon…” Nekam says as he grabs one of the crates, finally meeting my eyes, there is a mixing of emotions in them as he says “Ador Jahal.”
If my mouth was not full, my teeth would grind and my tongue would spew the bile his phrase causes me to feel. Its meaning, May luck find you, is insulting after he put me in the chains that bind me. It is he that has taken my luck, and sealed my fate to be a slave. My rage returns, as my eyes glare at him. He looks away shamefully as he takes the second to last crate.
As the one whose gait I know passes, I feel them knock into me as they stumble with a crate.
“Oi, watch it!” the grumbling man yells, dodging the falling crate.
In the moment that he shoots Nekam a glance, I feel a hand press something deep into the folds of my furs.
“Kinar Vulok.” They whisper, and I recognize the voice immediately.
Her green eyes glance at me under the thick hood of her winter coat. It is Korra. Her face is covered, but I can tell she is grinning. What did she give me? She and her cousin Yuri have helped me now. Do they plan to save me? My eyes look around, no, they would not risk Nekam’s ire. Not for an Ulima. Yet, what Yuri gave me… if Nekam knew.
“Hurry up,” Betran barks from inside the shuttle “I’m getting bored.”
My shoulder moves roughly as the grumbling man shoves me forward, onto the ship. The loading bay door of the shuttle closes after us. The grumbling man places my hands against the wall of the shuttle, I feel a magnetic click and my shackles are stuck to something. Sekat, I did not get a chance to put what Yuri gave back in my pocket. I will not be able to answer if they try to speak to me, or they will find out what I carry.
The craft's Etherium drive hums to life, and I can feel it, ever since my body felt Netherium directly, I have become more sensitive to both forms of Maka. However, I can no longer see it in the air as I did before. I wonder if it is something that I can learn to do. The ship lurches upwards, causing my eyes to blink. We are flying. I have never flown before. So this is what the Sage meant when he described it.
It is strange to think they can harness Etherium to do such a thing. The Sage told me that on other worlds they do not need Etherium to fly, but most machines on this planet do not last long without it. I wonder why? There are so many questions that fill my mind, trying to distract my breaking heart. This will be the first time Arrum and I have been apart for more than a few days. We have been together for so many years now. Knowing I may never see my brother again, the pain of it. Taking a deep breath, I focus myself. Now is the time to be observant. My chance may come at any moment.
My eyes pay close attention to the smaller man who sits in the front of the shuttle in a chair. He must be their pilot. There are countless holo displays constantly showing changing numbers and information. I do not understand the meaning of it, but I carefully watch how he moves the ship. An Ulima must always learn when they can. If I manage to slay them, I will have to fly this… somehow.
***
Many hours pass with little changes. Betran has been using a device on his wrist to communicate with people, he spends the most time talking with someone called Mallock. From what I have gleaned it is his cousin. I can barely see where we are from the viewports on the side of the shuttle. It is nighttime still. We are high above the ground, high enough that I cannot see the red-eyed glow of the Shulka from here.
“Halfway there.” The pilot says.
“I hate flying this slow.” Betran groans.
“Better to not have people snooping in our business,” the grumbling man says.
The grumbling man grunts, his hand resting near the holster on his belt. He watches me with prying eyes. His gaze has not left me since we departed. I study my surroundings, looking for anything I can use. There are two side compartments marked with a weapons symbol, both have some kind of recessed locking mechanism on them. If I had a laser cutter, I could probably open it.
I think it will come down to a fight with blades. Still 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, after ending his communication.
The grumbling man sighs but says nothing. Betran constantly has been talking down about Kuwathi the entire trip, and about how great his cousin Mallock is.
“Kuwathi were bred to be like dogs.” He says, chuckling to himself “Their glowing eyes are a product of entertainment for their masters.”
“Actually—In school, I learned it was because…” the pilot begins.
“Did I fragging ask your opinion?” Betran barks.
“No boss, sorry boss.”
“Right, where was I—dogs, bred for their master’s entertainment. My cousin 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 rolls his eyes. Pulling out a knife and spinning it on his hand, now looking at me. I can see he wants to use it on me with a single glance. His eyes make my skin crawl. Whatever their plans for me are, I know that it will not be pleasant.