Sunlord (20 page)

Capac leant forward and tossed a picked clean bone
into the fire, at the same time as glancing over to where Myshia
lay.

"Had enough to eat?"

Myshia nodded and lay back into the bed of soft
grass. The makeshift bandage of animal hide and vines that bounded
her shoulder wound were stained red in patches, but seemed to be
healing. The few scratches on her face rendered by flying shrapnel
had all but disappeared, leaving little evidence of her wound.
Myshia had prepared herself a mixture of herbs and medicines, but
that did not explain her phenomenal rate of healing. Capac's
subconscious quietly worried over memories of splinters of bone and
raw flesh in Myshia's shoulder...that had mysteriously healed in an
instant. But no time could be spared for idle reflection, and he
simply accepted Myshia's rapid healing abilities.

Shaun was speaking.

"Tomorrow we'll need to move out and head for the
dropsite." He hefted stubby kevlar automatic rifle he had taken
from electrified Sunlord android earlier. They had taken all that
had not been shorted out from the inanimate shell of metal and
wiring. Luckily the rifle was scorched but otherwise unharmed.
Neither Shaun nor Capac could find any trace of the A-squad trooper
that had fired upon Myshia, not even dust. Whatever had set off the
chain reaction, the explosion had been calamitous.

Shaun lay the rifle at his feet. "This Auras mark
four is an effective weapon." He nodded his head in Capac's
direction. "It's unfortunate your Auras is out of ammo...its
calibre is incompatible with my rifle, so it looks as though
without raiding a supply store, there is nothing to do but leave it
behind."

Capac grunted, wishing he had conserved the bullets.
It had seemed in the heat of the battle with the Sunlords that he
couldn't squeeze off the bullets fast enough.

Shaun indicated to the long barrelled miner's rifle.
"That Scavala 750 will have to do. Myshia, what arms do you intend
to take up?"

Myshia patted the wooden surface of her bow. "This
will accompany me all the way. Along with my knife, it is
enough."

"And you, Ashian?"

Ashian blinked as he found himself at the centre of
attention. "Me...?"

Shaun dug into his belt, and withdrew a small
fist-sized pistol. Its two centimetre long barrel was ominously
wide, promising to deliver a considerable punch.

"Take this," offered Shaun. "It was part of the
android's auxilary weaponry. Its a small weapon, and somewhat
ineffective against armour, but handy none-the-less."

Ashian backed away. "I will not kill."

"You must protect yourself," said Shaun seriously.
"If you truly intend to face the Sunlords you'd better be prepared.
Put it in your belt, and use it for defence if nothing else."

The eyes of Capac and Myshia were upon him, expecting
him to make a move. He was the one who had persuaded them to leave
their village to take up arms against the Sunlords...

Ashian grudgingly took the pistol. He glanced at the
cool metal surface and hefted it to get a feel for its weight. "For
defence," he muttered in consolation as he tucked it securely at
his side. He shook his head to clear it of that dreadful heaviness
that weighed down upon his mind.

He had never killed, and the concept of killing
scared him.

Shaun sat upon the cool rock face, his helicasuit
drawn as tightly as possible across his form. Despite the thick
layer of insulation he shivered and found himself wishing for a
Federation issue drysuit and pack. With some proper equipment
nothing on this world could stop him.

His hands moved, fashioning a small tubular object in
his lap. Every so often he would reach over and stir a small
shallow dish with a short length of stick.

Ashian sat down upon the rock next to Shaun, taking
up the seat next to the human.

"What are you doing?" asked Ashian curiously.

Shaun looked up, surprised from his reverie. He
laughed. "You sneaked up on me, little one." He turned back to his
pot of black substance that boiled over the small fire. "I'm just
cooking up some flares. I managed to gather what ingredients I
couldn't find in this helicasuit from the forest. Myshia gave me
hand to select what I needed."

Ashian stared silently at the viscous liquid as Shaun
poured it slowly down the tube. His eyes glazed in thought. "Were
you thinking about home?"

Shaun smiled in the darkness, placing the crudely
fashioned flares aside, allowing them to cool. He sat back, staring
wistfully into the night. "Just wishing to be back and fighting for
the Federation. It pains me to be sitting around, wasting away when
they need me back home. I feel as if I've been in suspended
animation, immersed in a thick paste that slows my actions."

Ashian paused in consideration. "I think about home,
except I don't think about fighting. I only wish the Sunlords would
go, and leave us alone. Our world was such a peaceful one."

"I'll give you that," grinned Shaun. "A little too
peaceful for me, I'm afraid. Yes, planet L/Cn-41a is not exactly
the hub of the universe."

Ashian looked bemused. "El-cee-en? What sort of drusk
dung do you think you're weaving? This is the country of the
Coalition of Assemblies."

"L/Cn-41a was the name given to this planet when the
survey probes passed through this sector about sixty years ago. I
would guess, like so many other planets similar to this one, a few
scant details are recorded then tucked away in huge computer
archives.

"That was before the War," reminisced Shaun. "When
the Hartrias Kingdom and the Federation of Mankind worked
together."

"You worked together, with the Sunlords?" Ashian was
fascinated.

"Yes, our races co-operated with each other, rather
grudgingly, for twenty-six years. It was a team of combined
Hartrias and Human effort that the jumpship Stardrive was perfected
and all jumptunnels mapped."

"Jumpship? What do you mean?"

Shaun laughed lightly and relaxed back into the
ungiving bark of a tree. "You'll need a degree in astrophysics and
jumpspace technology to understand it fully, my little friend. When
it was first discovered Earth scientists were baffled. It defied a
lot of theoretical laws, and also a lot of intuitive ones. That was
why the Hartrias Kingdom and the Federation first got together; to
solve the mystery of jumpspace. The Hartrias lived many light-years
away, and by conventional travel it took generations for a one-way
trip. Even communications took seven years each way, so as you can
guess, contact was limited. But the Hartrias was the only race
mankind had discovered that was intelligent enough for space
flight. Most civilisations are ancient beyond human comprehension,
ruins all that remains of their cities and starports. We don't know
what happened to them, but eons ago they just disappeared, leaving
space open to any newcomers. Some theories being thrown about now
suggest that these ancient civilisations actually created the
jumptunnels.

"Anyway, as soon as the Jumpship was operational
distance was of no consequence. Ships could travel from one
jumptunnel to another in the smallest fraction of the time it would
otherwise take. Then, twelve years later, political tensions rose
to breaking point, and the Hartrias declared war on Earth and its
Federation of planets."

The small Currach sat silent, his mind grappling with
mind-stunning concepts. "There is no hope of reconciliation?"

Shaun spat disgustedly. "The Hartrias betrayed the
Fleet and killed many of our number. Once the Jumpship was
developed they cared little for their 'allies'. Their actions were
nothing more than heartless butchery - they thought their superior
firepower would finish us quickly. But they were wrong. They
underestimated the tenacity of the human spirit."

Ashian bit his lower lip worriedly. "It seems
disastrous that two mighty races have pitted themselves against
each other."

Shaun shrugged. "The situation may have changed since
my imprisonment. A lot can happen in the space of two years..."

"Do you have a family? Surely they will be missing
you."

Shaun shook his head. "Part of the reason the
Federation put me on the front line is that I have no family ties.
Nobody but the Federation army awaits me."

Ashian was taken aback. In his city, families were
highly regarded for they gave an individual place and standing.
Ashian had a large bloodclan of relatives, and although did not
share dwellings with anyone, he spent a lot of time a family
gatherings and festivals. He could not comprehend himself a world
without social attachments.

They sat in silence, the small fire behind them
crackling as burning wood collapsed and smouldered. All around the
forest twittered and moved as nocturnal beasts roamed.

Ashian began to say something, but Shaun caught his
arm sharply to silence him. Looking over, Ashian saw that Shaun was
gazing at the stars overhead, a bright flash marking the entry of a
meteorite as it fell earthward. A blaze of light, not unlike a
large white star, flared for a few seconds before fading and
dying.

Ashian asked in a hushed whisper; "What is it?"

Shaun did not respond. He watched for another thirty
seconds as smaller, intermittent starbursts appeared. They looked
so small and so distant, a myriad of pinpoint lights streaking down
through the atmosphere. It was almost as if a battle was being
waged...

"I'm not sure," answered Shaun finally. "I could have
sworn those bursts of light were some sort of cannon, but who would
the Hartrias be fighting? We are light-years from the nearest
settlement, and the Federation would not bother to engage in battle
in such for such a backwater planet."

Ashian shrugged. "It may be nothing. Long before the
Sunlords appeared falling stars were frequent. Astrologers at the
Council studied their paths for many generations, and records date
back a hundred years. Perhaps it is just a freak storm of falling
stars..."

"Who knows what's going on up there." A prickle of
premonition touched the nape of Shaun's neck, tracing across his
flesh and raising the hairs. Shaun shuddered and hugged the
helicasuit closer about his chest. "But something tells me we're
going to find out soon enough."

Chapter Eight

The Gathering Storm.

A king of shreds and patches.

- William Shakespeare :
Hamlet.

Shata-Bera threw his laser rifle over one shoulder
and eyed the Councillor narrowly.

"I have only come to speak with the men of your
city," repeated Shata. "I am without evil intent." The scarred mass
of Shata's face twisted into the resemblance of a grim smile. "I
have come to save your city, not destroy it."

Councillor Nian was impassive. "I demand you leave
this city immediately. We will have no..." Nian paused, considering
the dirty, ugly form before him. "...savages...in this
dwelling."

Shata growled low in his throat and swung the laser
rifle around threateningly. The Councillor recoiled in shock and
stumbled backwards.

"I will not leave until I have spoken before the
city." Shata's voice was low, demanding. "No man will stop me."

Nian shook visibly as he asked:

"But why? We have no quarrel with you-"

Nian's pitiful cries were silenced with the entrance
of a white-robed figure.

"Silence! Councillor Nian, returned to your lodgings.
I wish to speak with the stranger alone."

Shata-Bera turned with new interest at the High
Councillor. As the footsteps of Nian receded down the stone
corridor the High Councillor spoke.

"Let me introduce myself - I am Orlin. You wished to
speak before the Council?"

Shata nodded. "I want to let the people of this city
decide for themselves on the action to be taken against the
Sunlords. For too long have you sat around, twiddling your thumbs
as farmers and citizens die. They are dying!"

Orlin lowered his voice. "Did the Grand Vizier send
you? Do you know of his whereabouts?"

"Vizier? I know no such person."

Orlin sighed a sigh of depression. "Then the fool is
lost, as I feared! He set off a month ago into the forest in search
of the Eloprin...I was hoping, since you look like you've spent
some time in the forest, that you may know."

Shata slung the rifle back over his shoulder. "I have
no time to reminisce, old man. Either you let me talk or I'll start
killing."

Orlin flushed at the Shata's harsh words. He paused
before speaking.

"You don't understand. The Vizier's mission was of
high importance, and it's failure now means that new action must be
taken. Weeks upon end I prayed, yet I knew all the time that the
Vizier could never hope to succeed."

Shata pushed past Orlin, heading towards the Council
Chambers. "Call your priests off, and let me roam the streets to
speak among the peasants."

Orlin caught Shata by the arm, masking his disgust as
his fingers sunk into scarred and lumpy flesh masked by the thick
cloth of the forester's cloak. "What do you hope to achieve?"

Shata managed to put a lid on his rising temperature.
"Militia, damn you! Some sort of fighting force. I am doing
something to rally the people against the abominations from the
sun."

"How can you? The people of this city are
peaceful-"

"Enough of that! You know as well as I that many
among them anger, and crave for revenge. Given a chance, they will
come flocking."

"And then what?" Orlin was taken aback. "Train
them?"

"Exactly." Ignoring Orlin's snort of disgust, Shata
continued. "I will select only the best, and teach them how to
fight. I will travel the entire land, and visit every city in the
land, spreading my message. In two weeks all willing shall go to
the Vorsh Peaks and await me. There, I shall choose my fighting
force and take them into the forest."