The Last Narkoy_OSLO

by Elizabeth Price

  Sedom thought, focusing on what she loved. An image of her team, her friends, popped into her mind. Zion’s eye-rolling, Rosanheer’s smirky grin, even Danstu’s stern expression. One after another her friends appeared in her mind in a carousel of happy memories.

  “I know it’s not pleasant. Just hold onto me and we’ll get you through this. Try to focus on their names,” he instructed low as he watched the same images filter through his mind.

  Her mind slowly cleared, allowing them both to open their eyes. Sedom stared into his eyes for a long while as the fog in her mind dissipated.

  “You saw everything?” she gasped.

  He nodded. “On my honor, I won’t use any of my knowledge against you, Chadon,” he returned low.

  She nodded, all the while she was thinking of the potential security issues this man may cause her in the future. “Uh… these friends… know who I am also?” she gulped. He nodded. Overwhelming tears of joy flooded her eyes as her memories slowly returned to her. “Do you know their names?” she asked.

  “They didn’t give me any names. It’s better that way, in case we’re caught,” he explained. He bent closer to her so his cheeks were pressed against the bars. “One of your friends did send a message. Uh… forgive me if I don’t pronounce this correctly… “no more half-cocked insanity ego trips,” he said in Zion’s native language.

  A chuckle escaped her lips. “Zion… he’s alive,” she spoke relieved. She slowly sat up, resting her head near his, feeling their foreheads touch. “Thank you—”

  “Tausi. My name is Tausi,” he said. “I remember my name too. It is my name and I will never allow anyone to take it from me again,” he spoke in a demanding whisper. He lifted his bare wrist, showing that he had carved his own name into his skin.

  She brushed her hand over his fresh wound. “Painful but smart. They can’t take it away from you unless they take your arm,” she pointed out.

  “Exactly my thoughts,” he agreed. He brushed his fingers over her pale cheeks. “It’s amazing to see you so close. As a child, I was never permitted to get within twenty feet of you. You were forbidden to even talk to and now here you are,” he admitted.

  Sedom chuckled. “Here I am. You know who I am. Who are you, Tausi? You obviously grew up on Matrador.”

  He nodded. “Yes. I was born on Matrador not too far from Talisan in the village of Toshnak. My parents both worked in the city. We were considered third-gens, so we had some privileges under Narkoy law. I had two grandfathers who were both full-blooded Narkoy.” He rested his hand on her cheek, stroking it softly. “I still remember the day you were born. I was seven years old and it was the first time I had ever seen fireworks. The city celebrated for days. You were the bringer of all hope to the Narkoy, Crehail and Matrad people. We were all so excited to have a new Chidi at last.”

  She exhaled a shuttering breath. “And now I’m stuck in a cage, surrounded by my enemy with no way to escape,” she pointed out, her words subdued by her sobs.

  “Have faith, my dear Chadon. Your friends are watching out for you,” he assured. “Somehow you will survive this. If I can, I know you will. Just be strong.”

  She nodded against his hand. “I hope so.”

  “I know so,” he assured, speaking in Celibec. He held her hand tighter. “Rest now. You’ve had a hard day.”

  Sedom closed her eyes and as she did, she felt Tausi wrap his own blanket over her. Her mind drifted to sleep.

  TEN

  Danstu stared out his office window to the street below. A group of school-aged children were walking by as their teacher was pointing to different symbols on the building. One of the children looked to his window, waving up at him which prompted all of the other children to do so also.

  He waved back. In that moment he suddenly realized who and what he was. He was the leader of the Tasgool and of Gathow. All the legends, all of the mystery and the history and he was the head of it all. He nodded, pleased with his own accomplishments.

  “Chisarel, I have the Assan on the com for you,” Lerrina called out from the speaker on his desk.

  “It’s about time. Patch her through,” he ordered.

  Captain Cembre’s face appeared on the screen looking quite content. “Chisarel, how can I be of assistance?”

  “Captain Cembre, good. I need you to make a stop at Brokt to pick up another crew,” Danstu started.

  Cembre stared at him, her eyes like stone. “Is that advisable considering we have the Azeran in tow?”

  “Unavoidable. We need another crew just as much as the Azeran. Keep the Azeran’s identity classified and cloaked while they’re on board.”

  “That won’t be easy, sir, especially trying to hide a warship from a trained Captain. Any good captain could detect a pull on our engines,” she mentioned. “It will also take us an extra day if we have to cloak the Azeran.”

  Danstu drummed his fingers on his desk. “So be it. Captain Ooganal will take command of the Esirra once you arrive on Matrador. Have you two met?”

  Cembre’s lips scrunched to the left side of her mouth as she nodded. “We have. I have to admit we’re not on the best of terms, but—”

  “Do you trust him?” Danstu asked.

  Cembre hesitated for a moment. “Personally, no. We’ve been enemies for a long time. He attempted to destroy my ship too many times for me to trust him. But that was while we were flying under the Marisheio’s flag. I have to admit though, he’s very loyal to the cause,” she mentioned.

  “Will you have a problem working with him?” Danstu asked, hoping for an honest answer.

  Again, Cembre hesitated to answer. “I will do my job, sir,” she replied. “Sir, how many ships like the Assan do we have?” she questioned.

  “Six and its imperative we have them all in the field in case of an attack.”

  “Understood.”

  The screen blanked as Cembre scooted back in her seat. She rested her head back as Commander Miserin entered. “We need to make a stop at Brokt,” she said with heavy words.

  “That’s dangerous. Can I ask why?”

  “We are picking up a new crew for the Esirra. Captain Ooganal will be taking command of the Esirra as soon as we arrive on Matrador,” she explained.

  He nodded. “Captain Ooganal is a hell of a captain. I wouldn’t be surprised the Chadon didn’t give him command of the Oslo… no offense.” he mentioned.

  “None taken. He is good. And let’s hope not. He’s a little too good for that powerful of a ship,” she grumbled.

  He crossed his thin arms over his flat chest. “Did she say anything about who was going to take command of either ship when this mission is completed?” he asked as he took up the seat in front of her desk.

  Cembre shook her head. “The Chadon rewards loyalty and longevity. Those who have been with her the longest tend to rise higher in the ranks faster. Knowing her history, she’d give you the Azeran and me the Oslo,” she mentioned. “But with Captain Ooganal and Captain Koos in the mix… I’m not sure. They’re both impressive captains, especially Ooganal, as you mentioned.”

  “But you want the Azeran,” he pointed out.

  “I am partial to her, yes,” Cembre admitted as she typed in her commands to take the ship to the planet of Brokt. “We should be on Brokt within the hour. I’m counting on you to show Captain Ooganal around. We’re not on the best terms. I might rub him the wrong way.”

  An hour later, Cembre found herself standing next to her first officer in the main shuttle bay of the Assan. A refurbished Underground ship glided into the bay and soon sixteen officers exited the shuttle.

  When Captain Ooganal disembarked the shuttle, he was in the middle of the group and not leading, which perplexed Cembre. It was customary to lead your crew onto a new ship. A short yet thin Mandicien man with dark hair and bright red eyes took the lead.

  The Mandicien man approached Cembre and Miserin with outstretched palms. “Captain, commander, greetings from the new crew of the Esirra. I am
Commander Eki Sol,” he went on to introduce the rest of the staff, leaving his Captain for last. “And I believe you have met Captain Ooganal?” he said, motioning back and forth between the two captains.

  Cembre nodded, offering Ooganal her hand to shake. “We have. Captain.”

  “Captain,” Ooganal acknowledged back then handed her a bottle of Dormin brandy. “A gift to celebrate our new friendship.”

  The group began to walk into the main hall of the ship. “You will have to forgive the delay, but the Chisarel caught us at a bad time. We’re currently running a diagnostic on our engines which will prevent us from—”

  Ooganal pressed his hand against the hallway wall, feeling the vibration of the engines within the wall. “Save your explanations, Captain. We’re on the same team. The Chisarel informed us you are currently towing another ship and any questions regarding it were classified,” he informed. “But if we can render any assistance, we’d be happy to help,” he offered.

  Cembre nodded, smirking to herself. “That easy? Hum?” she joked, turning to Ooganal. He was watching her not with burning eyes of hate as she had thought, but with infatuation. And she had to admit to herself that he too was nice on her eyes. He had thick arms and a stunning jawline to match. They had battled against each other for so long, it was hard to see him as a man and not as an enemy. Now that they were talking as friends, she couldn’t help but feel slightly attracted to him.

  “Captain Cembre, I was quite amazed to learn you were the first to sign on with the Tasgool,” Captain Ooganal mentioned.

  She paused at a group of her crew stationed at the end of the hall, ready to help accommodate their new passengers. “Find everyone quarters for the next two nights. They are accompanying us to Gathow,” she ordered.

  “Captain,” Miserin spoke up, questioning if she changed her mind. She nodded that she would be alright.

  With the hall clear, she turned back to Ooganal. “Sign on, drafted, it’s pretty much the same thing. The Almon, my last ship, was captured and destroyed by the Marisheio. If it wasn’t for the Tasgool, my crew and I would be dead. It was more a matter of timing,” she explained.

  “Good, bad or otherwise,” Ooganal pointed out. “Well, it will be an honor to work with you, Captain. It’s been too long we’ve been at odds,” he mentioned looking deeply into her eyes.

  She stared into Ooganal’s eyes, smirking. “Yes… yes, it has. Can I offer you a drink… to celebrate your new command?” she offered flirtatiously holding up the brandy.

  He bowed his head slightly. “I would… enjoy that.”

  ___

  Inside the boardroom, twenty sets of eyes were on Danstu, waiting for answers that he couldn’t give. He slowly walked to the front of the table, setting his computer down. Firmly, he pressed his hand onto the table, his eyes meeting everyone in the room individually.

  “Just as a reminder, this meeting is classified and the information will not be discussed with anyone other than those present. Most of you have an idea of what’s happening, but for those who don’t, Sortec has been captured by the Marisheio Empire,” Danstu informed.

  “Surely not,” called Bagaaris.

  “How the hell did she end up on Clovucutte?” Lolum barked, rising from his seat.

  “We sent a mission to retrieve the Oslo, a Narkoy battleship. In route, the Chadon’s ship was shot down over Clovucutte soil. As of yet, they don’t realize who or what she is. They do know she is a Narkoy, which apparently there have been several Narkoy sightings in the past. Not many are paying it close attention. It’s only a matter of time though,” Danstu continued.

  “What of our crew?” asked Bagaaris, the head of the Tasgool’s space fleet.

  Danstu delayed speaking as he typed something into his computer. An image depicting the twisted remains of the Mawan appeared on the screen.

  “Miraculously, most of the crew survived. Sadly, commander Tremble did not. She was ejected from the Mawan and fell to her death. The main computer core was destroyed on impact, so that’s one less worry we have to contend with. As of right now, our highest objective is to defend Gathow. Sortec designed a safeguard in case a situation like this ever arose. I will need the top fives’ authorization to change the command codes of Gathow so I can assume full command,” Danstu explained.

  “Who are the top five?” Ryn asked.

  Lolum, Cidele and Danstu all raised their hands.

  “She chose us before she left,” Danstu explained.

  “But we’re short two members,” Lolum pointed out.

  “Zion is in route. I received word he will be here later this afternoon,” Lolum spoke up.

  “They stole a class six Marisheio fighter. I’ll need you to watch for it and not destroy it. This leaves Captain Qilo, who’s in Mandicien custody at the moment,” Danstu explained, his words directed towards Bagaaris. “Once they’ve returned, we can change the code. Until that code is changed, we’re venerable to a Marisheio attack. I need everyone on alert.”

  As the room cleared, Cidele took Danstu aside. “Have you given any thought to contacting the Di-Braum?” she asked.

  “Carmintor? I’d say that’s the furthest thing from my mind right now. He’s too busy trying to steal the Oslo from behind our backs,” he mentioned.

  “Well, you should. He could help. He’s come to our aid on many occasions. Besides, he’ll want to know what happened to Sedom,” she pointed out.

  “I’m sure. He’s just as much after our technology as everyone else in the galaxy. Contacting the Di-Braum will be the last resort,” he explained.

  “Learn to trust a little,” Cidele whispered.

  Danstu shook his head as he sighed. “There are some luxuries I’m not afforded, trust being one of them. I trust the wrong person and we’re all dead. We’re sitting on an arsenal that could destroy half this galaxy. Trust will have to be earned after years, not months of knowing someone,” he explained.

  “The Underground?” she pointed out.

  “I’ve known them for years. We needed an alliance, they were who I decided to give my trust to,” he said.

  “Well… do they have a ship we could borrow?”

  “No, but…” he paused, hurrying out of the room with a half-developed thought. He didn’t pause until he was inside his office.

  “One Master Helli is on the Com for you,” came a young woman’s voice from the speaker embedded in Danstu’s desk.

  Danstu’s eyes focused on the speaker then slowly shut his eyes to hold back his anxiety. “This is not a conversation I wish to have. I’ve been avoiding it for a couple of days,” he admitted to Cidele, noticing she had followed him to his office.

  “Norton is a sweetheart. It will be fine,” she encouraged. “Were you going to finish your sentence?”

  “Sweetheart? Perhaps to you. He’s a very influential politician with the Rook government, not to mention he’s the Chadon’s friend. This could go one of two ways for us and neither are good,” he explained.

  “Well, guess not. Then why take the call?” Cidele asked.

  “If I don’t, he’ll assume something is wrong. If he feels something is wrong, he’s either apt to come here to investigate or send an armada of Rycal ships to take us over,” he explained.

  “The exact same two possibilities that might happen if you talk to him,” Cidele pointed out.

  “And exactly the same situation I’ve been avoiding with two other governments.” Danstu slowly nodded. “I’ll catch up with you later. For now, could you do some research on ancient Narkoy burial practices? I’d like to see those people laid to rest properly on level ten,” he said.

  She agreed, hurrying out of the office to let Danstu tend to his call.

  Danstu settled back into his seat, taking a moment to clear his thoughts before he answered the com. The com screen flashed on, showing an image of Sedom fighting in the arena. The image fell away, revealing the aged yet stern red eyes of Norton Helli.

  “She’s fighting in the
games?” he asked overly calm.

  “Where did you find that image?” Danstu asked in a rush of words.

  “It doesn’t matter where I got it. Your Chadon is fighting in the games. My dear friend is fighting in the games. She’s in the hands of your enemy! Why didn’t you tell me?” Norton yelled, his fist pounding on the desk in front of him.

  “The Rook are OUR enemy just as much as the Marisheio. Frankly, Mr. Helli, you are the last person I’d consider calling,” Danstu pointed out.

  Norton nodded uneasily, the heavy bags under his eyes jiggling as he nodded. “Yes, yes, I suppose so. But I’m different. I owe that girl my life because of those damn games,” he barked. He slowly began again with shuttering words. “I hear you’re in need of a ship that can pass safely through the Cha’laan sector. I happen to have a ship and a plan to get her out of there, but I need your clearance to land on Matrador with a Rook ship. You have my word we come in peace.”

  “No,” Danstu answered with a curl of his lip. “Did you not hear me? You are our enemy. I can’t risk trusting any Rook regardless of your past relationship with the Chadon,” he added.

  “I,” Norton pointed to himself, “am not the enemy. The Rook Emperor is. Sortec trusts me. I’m practically the only one on Juvin-que who she does trust save for one other. I’m on your side, son,” he spoke honestly. He raised the image of Sedom fighting to the screen again. “For her sake. I’ve been there. I know what hell she’s going through. You owe it to her to hear us out.”

  Danstu took in a deep breath, allowing it to seep from his lips slowly. “How much pull do you have with Rycal?” he asked, taking Norton back.

  “Mandate Tipton Rook is my ex-wife. Enough. What do you need?” he asked seriously.

  “They have a commander in their custody by the name of Qilo, Kyesse Qilo. We need him. Consider him the key that will grant you safe passage to Gathow. Bring him with you and we’ll talk,” Danstu offered.

  “Commander Kyesse Qilo? I’ll call in a favor. Where should we meet you?” Norton offered.