by P P Corcoran
“Quickly, boy.” Kal ordered Yue. “Find something to staunch the bleeding.”
Yue head spun as he desperately searched the room for something, anything which he may be of use. Eyes flicked across simple, utilitarian beds. An ablutions area separated from the main room by an opaque panel. A single desk and straight-backed seat until, at last, his search lit upon a medical kit hanging on the wall. Covering the short distance in a half dozen long strides he recovered the kit and returned to his uncle.
“Well, don’t stand there like some gormless oaf. Open it!”
Fumbling with the seal Yue nearly dropped the kit. Balancing it in one hand he managed to pop the seal and the lid obediently rose to reveal a compact, though comprehensive, array of medical equipment. Yue located a blood clot dispenser and offered it to his uncle. With a deftness of one who had treated uncounted numbers of wounds received in both combat and training, Kal removed the hand applying pressure to Vek’s wound while immediately replacing it with the dispenser which he ran along the length of the cut. The bright blue foam filled the incision preventing any further loss of blood. Releasing the dispenser, Kal allowed it to drop to the floor holding his now empty hand out to Yue.
“Is there a bonder in there?”
Yue passed the skin bonder to his uncle who ran the small device over the wound twice. The bonder’s rows of small claws reached out, pinched Vek’s skin either side of the wound and forced the skin together before applying a thin layer of strong sealant which glued the edges and sealed the wound shut. The bonder joined the dispenser on the floor as Kal moved Vek’s head and neck this way and that to inspect his handy work. With a grunt Kal stepped back, satisfied.
“It’ll do until we get home and a we can get you to a med tech.”
Vek raised his hand to the site of the wound running one finger along the raised surface where Kal had sealed the wound before letting out a short chuckle.
“I fear you have missed your calling, brother. Perhaps, you should’ve been a healer rather than a warrior.”
“Ah!” Cried Kal dismissively. “I would have spent all my time patching you back together instead of sharing in the fun.”
The brothers shared a hearty laugh which slowly tapered off before Vek turned to look at Yue. The young man refused to meet his father’s eyes instead keeping them fixed resolutely on the well-worn, dull plastic covered floor.
Vek’s reached out and placed a hand on his son’s shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze. Yue’s head came up and for the first time in what seemed an age Vek saw embarrassment - no, something more. Genuine fear in those eyes.
“Yue-” Began Vek only for the younger man to interrupt him.
“Father... Father, I thought...” Words seemed to fail him.
“What did you think?” Asked Vek softly.
Yue swallowed deeply before answering. “I thought the Guardian was going to kill you and ...”
Vek waited patiently as his son struggled to finish the sentence.
“I thought the Guardian was going to kill you and it was my fault. My outburst. My lack of respect. My failure to abide by the rules of Home which you and Uncle Kal have instructed me on, even before the Guardian’s agreed to your audience.”
Vek felt a shudder run through the body of his eldest son and heir but still he held his tongue. Of every attribute that made a great clan lord the ability to learn from one’s own mistakes was of the utmost importance. The small room lapsed into silence for a moment, until Yue gave himself a mental and physical shake. The youth’s spine straightened, and his red eyes were hard as they met and held those of his father.
“I promise on the honor of my clan. It shall never happen again.” His voice said firmly.
Vek released his son’s shoulder and gave his arm a firm slap as a large grin spread across his face. “Then we shall say nothing more of it eh, Kal?”
“Say nothing more about what, my lord?” Replied Kal turning away from the father and son to retrieve one of three small cases deposited in their quarters by an unseen mechanism. Placing the case on a low bed Kal opened it and began rummaging through it.
“Perhaps, a fresh shirt before we meet the other clan lords? It appears the one you wear has become somewhat stained.”
✽✽✽
The Hall of Equals, thought Yue as he sat shoulder to shoulder with his uncle Kal in the cramped, unlit recess behind his father’s plain metal chair, was a very grand name for a ten meter diameter circular room constructed from the same drab gray concrete as the rest of bunker like structure that was the Turak’s last foothold on the planet of their birth. Everything the heir to Clan Orlak had seen in the short time since his arrival on Home had emphasized the austerity by which the Guardians lived their lives as if they were going to great lengths to show how they had rejected the affluence normally associated in Turak society with power and influence. Yue’s own father, Vek, had spared no expense outfitting his living chambers with the most luxurious of dressings.
Handmade silks draped the audience chamber. Carvings of stone, quarried from the hard-to-reach worlds of their territory lined the walls, while jewels and rare minerals embedded Vek’s sumptuous chair.
Guarding it all, were the ranks of Clan Lord Vek’s personal guard.
Each warrior having proved themselves in combat a hundred times over and equipped with the most sophisticated weaponry and latest battle armor found anywhere in the hundreds of stars controlled by the Turak. However, here, on Home, the amassed riches of Clan Orlak meant nothing.
“I call this assembly of the Clan Lords of the Turak to order.” Rumbled a deep authoritative voice silencing the few whispered conversations that reached Yue’s ears. The confining walls of the recess and the bulky figure of his father’s seated figure blocked his view of the speaker. Straining his neck forward as far as he could without leaving his seat which, according to Kal would bring forth the wrath of the gray armored Guardians who stood like concrete statues lining the halls outer wall in the spaces between the sixteen assembled clan lords representing every surviving clan, big or small, who claimed their ancestral roots were buried deep on this scarred and barren world.
Yue’s head managed to just clear the corner of the recess, his eyes were drawn to a figure standing before a plain, metal chair placed upon a raised dais; so he stood a single step higher than the gathered clan lords, to get a better look of the figure dressed in matching gray long-sleeved top and pants. In contrast the sash worn around his waist assaulted the eyes, sixteen colors intricately woven together and not one color more prominent than another. Each strand represented a clan.
The sash proclaimed the wearer’s alignment to no single clan but rather to all Turak. However, the clothing failed to disguise the frailness of the body beneath. Yue’s breath caught in his throat and his pupils went wide as he realized he was likely witnessing the oldest Turak he was ever to see.
Yue caught movement out of the corner of his eye and his warrior’s gaze homed in on its source, only for his eyes to lock on those of another who stared directly back at him. His right hand moved of its own accord; palm outwards to show the empty hand, fingers spread toward the greeted person proved they did not conceal even the smallest of weapons between them.
A reciprocating gesture came from across the narrow expanse of the hall, though the hand was slightly smaller, for it was a female hand. As if emerging from behind a cloud on a moonlit night a face appeared from the darkness of the alcove above the raised hand. The sight caused Yue’s twin hearts to skip a beat for the face belonged to Waynal, only daughter and heir of Clan Lord Mynut, leader of Clan Hurak.
Clan Hurak and Yue’s Clan Orlak had long been rivals. Indeed, there had been several skirmishes along the bordering star systems, which separated the two clan’s territory, over the years. And it was one such skirmish which had seen the two opposing clans settle into their current uneasy peace. When Yue had been but a youngling, a force of Orlak warships had been dispatched under the command of h
is mother to investigate reports of raiders operating along the border with Clan Hurak. When Yue’s mother arrived in the area her ships were ambushed, not by the small group of raiders she had expected to find, but by a far larger force of Hurak warships.
The Hurak had the upper hand from the beginning and in a last desperate measure to save her embattled ships, Yue’s mother had rammed the Hurak command ship. The cataclysmic explosion which followed caused a momentary disruption to the Hurak command and control structure allowing the remaining Orlak ships to escape.
In his grief-driven rage, Lord Vek had assembled the mightiest fleet of warships ever seen in Orlak space. The legend said there were so many ships they could have used them as steppingstones to walk from one side of the system to the other. Lord Vek was intent on retribution for the loss of his wife, and mother of his infant son. Only the complete annihilation of Clan Hurak would sate his blood lust.
Clan Orlak had speared into Hurak space leaving only burning cities and airless, floating hulks of spaceships in their wake. Not in generations of skirmishes had such destruction been wrought on one clan by another. As if possessed, even Vek’s closest advisors failed to make him recognize that his rage blinded him to the moral repercussions of his actions.
It had taken the intervention of the Guardians to bring an end to the slaughter which left Clan Hurak a shell of its former self and Clan Orlak without half of its warships and their brave crews. In the two decades that had passed since an uneasy peace had reigned along the two clans border regions though Yue suspected that it would take a single spark to give his father the excuse he needed to reignite a war still raging deep within him.
“Lord Vek of Clan Orlak-” On hearing his father’s name Yue dragged his eyes away from Waynal and centered his attention once more on the ancient Guardian. “You petitioned for this gathering; I will hear you speak as to your reasons.” The Guardian waved a frail hand towards Vek as he returned his slight frame to his seat.
Proceedings paused while Vek rose to his feet in response to the Guardian’s invitation, however, several clan lords took the opportunity to show their hostility toward Vek and Clan Orlak by hissing beneath their breath.
As if spurred on by their dislike Vek took a solid step forward and raised himself to his full height, chin jutting forward in defiance. “I have requested the attendance the Clan Lords today, because I have news. An ancient enemy, one that many of us, myself included, thought their barren stench removed from this galaxy forever-”
“I see you’re still here, though!” Interjected Mynut with a chuckle that some around the room echoed.
Yue saw his father’s hand drop to where he would normally carry his ceremonial dagger only to find fresh air, for the Guardians tolerated no weapons in Home. Before Vek responded the elderly Guardian’s stern voice cut across the chamber.
“I would remind Lord Mynut that common courtesy is expected here-” The elderly Turak leaned forward and pointed a wrinkled finger at Mynut. “And if a lesson in etiquette is required then it shall be done, most... expeditiously.” On cue the gray-armored Guardian nearest Mynut spun on their heel to face him, with their hand resting suggestively on the guard of their Boka. The Guardian’s meaning obvious to all.
Tipping his head so his eyes looked at the floor Mynut spoke. “My apologies, Guardian. There shall be no further interruption while Lord Vek continues with his... tale.” Yue felt the familiar stirrings of anger rise within him as Mynut finished his sentence and his cheek muscles contracted in a smirk. The elderly Guardian chose to pay no head to the implied slight and, instead, returned to his original seated position.
“My tale, as Lord Mynut chooses to call it, is backed by solid proof which I will share freely with all Turak.” This caught several of the clan lords off-guard, for Turak shared only when sure to gain an advantage.
“The Saiph have returned...”
Shouts of derision and clan lord’s calling. “Liar!” drowned Vek out.
Through this hostile barrage Vek held his ground. Head held high, balled fists resting on hips. The Guardian allowed the uproar to go on for a few moments longer.
“Enough!” The amplified voice boomed off the stark walls bringing all other discussions to an abrupt halt. The elderly Guardian pulled himself to his feet and the assembled clan lords retook theirs out of respect. “I have seen the evidence Lord Vek speaks of with my own eyes and the Guardians chose to accept it as genuine.” There were grumbles but none chose to dispute the words of the Guardian. “The data is now being distributed to your rooms. I call a recess to give each of you the opportunity to study the data. We will reconvene here at sunrise.” The Guardian turned to leave, and the clan lords stood respectfully.
Yue took the opportunity to glance across to where Waynal was standing, his hand already half raised in greeting only to find her father, Mynut, regarding him with eyes ablaze with anger. Yue quickly returned his hand to his side, fixed his most stoic face and kept it that way until the room emptied and their armored Guardian escorted them back to their quarters.
On entering Uncle Kal gave him a strange look before switching his attention to Vek. “Well?” He demanded.
A worried frown creased Vek’s brow. “The Guardian is convinced. Now we wait and see what those other cretins think.”
✽✽✽
Sunrise on Home was more of a time than an actual event. The brooding storm clouds never dissipated, the rain seemed continuous and the wind blew constantly. Yue had slept a broken sleep. On the occasions that he had awoken it had been to the sound of muffled voices and at one point he half opened his eyes to see his father and uncle hunched together and holding a conversation in whispered tones. The confines of the spartan room prevented Yue from eavesdropping without his father noticing so he decided to try and get what precious sleep that he could in preparation for the day ahead and perhaps another chance to see Waynal.
When Uncle Kal called his name bringing him to full consciousness it came as a relief for his mind had been replaying the angry face of Mynut over and over and each time Waynal’s father’s stare had become more intense. The problem of how to tell their warring parents about their feelings for each other was one Yue was not looking forward to facing.
The incessant chatter of Uncle Kal made the short walk, trailing behind the ever-present, somber Guardian which ended in the equally somber Hall of Equals, more bearable, for today's session the Guardians had directed that all representatives be present.
His uncle’s presence only made the recess behind his father’s chair all that much tighter as both uncle and nephew did their best not to elbow each other in the ribs. As Mynut entered the hall followed by Waynal and a hulking Turak that Yue recognized as Opel, Mynut’s personal aide, Yue could not help but follow her with his head. A movement which did not escape his uncle’s attention.
“I would avert your gaze, young Yue, before you find your eyes on the end of Mynut’s blade.” Kal whispered harshly.
“Truth.” Said Vek out of the side of his mouth without turning his head from its position facing the empty chair on the raised dais.
Yue opened his mouth to speak but no words would pass the lump in his throat. He had thought that Waynal and he had been so discreet, so careful in their furtive meetings and coded correspondence. Now, it seemed that not only was his father aware of his covert actions, but his uncle also. With his indiscretion out in the open Yue was in no doubt that his father would be speaking to him later about the matter. For now, there was nothing more to say.
Vek stood as did the other Clan Lord’s as the elderly form of the Guardian shuffled into the room and made his way to his place on the dais. The clan lords resumed their own seats and waited for the Guardian to speak.
“Have you had sufficient time to examine the evidence presented by Vek of Clan, Orlak?” Nods of consent answered the Guardian’s question.
“Does anyone dispute the evidence?” Again silence was the Guardians answer.
“Th
en we are in agreement.” The Guardian said solemnly. “Our ancient enemy have returned. Those who laid waste to Home and scattered the Turak to the stars now deign to show their faces among us again.” The Guardian’s voice dropped an octave and forcing Yue to concentrate to hear his next words. “The Turak have not forgotten. Our ancestors swore an oath to have their vengeance on the Saiph and now that time is upon us.” From around the hall came grunts of agreement. “The ancient laws have foreseen this day. A day when all Turak must set aside their petty squabbles and honor the oath of our fathers. As Guardian of Home and Keeper of the Laws -” Yue noted with confusion his father stiffened in his seat and Kal bend forward to place a steading hand on his elder brother’s bicep. Yue’s eyes darted around the room and he could see that every Clan Lord had reacted to the Guardian’s words as his father had. What was happening?
“I declare Vek no longer Clan Lord of Clan Orlak -” Yue felt the breath catch in his throat; his eyes widened in disbelief. Had the Guardian just removed his father as Clan Lord? For what reason? What infringement of law had he broken by bring this news to the Guardians? Anger filled his belly and he moved to stand, to denounce this travesty only to find the strong arm of his uncle pinning him to his seat.
“Sit, boy, or I will knock you to the ground!” Came Kal’s harsh voice.
Anger mixed with confusion in Yue’s head as he tried to comprehend what was happening. The Guardian spoke once more.
“Vek is now War Chief of all Turak! Step forward, Vek.” Commanded the Guardian.
Unhesitatingly Vek rose to his feet and purposely walked to stand before the Guardian who rose to meet him. “Vek of the Orlak. Do you accept the challenge I place on your shoulders?”
“I do.” Vek declared loud enough for all to hear.
From within his gray robes a blade, no longer than a finger, appeared in the Guardian’s hand. In one deft stroke the distinctive scarlet sash representing Clan Orlak fell to the ground. The Guardian held out his hand and a Guardian who had been standing statue like behind the dais stepped forward and handed the elder Turak a new sash. This one identical to the one worn by the elder. A fine weave of sixteen independent colors which came together to form one sash. “Be forever of all Turak, Vek.” Yue looked aghast as his father tied the sash around his waist, unable to fully comprehend what he was witnessing. However, the Guardian had not finished.
