Renegades: Origins

by Kal Spriggs

  I curled up, tired and sad and so filled with awel, that my hide turned as yellow as a Pitri flower I wanted so much for things to have been different, for the connection I felt with Chuni to grow into friendship, for Grathir to be the mentor I had pretended he was, for the refugees to see me as a hero, and not as the source of their suffering.

  Grathir found me. So lost in my own aches I was, that I did not hear the creak of his cart as he approached. “Rastar Bastaff Antor.”

  I looked up. I felt the kul flood my hide white with surprise. “My apologies, Chigathi, I…” I wasn’t even certain what I apologized for, only that I must.

  “Chuni has gone,” Grathir said, his old voice worn. “Gone with Leader Turok. To fight Nova Roma and the Chxor, to gain honor. I asked that you protect her, yet you were gone, when you could have gone with them.”

  “I apologize,” I said. My body ached with the idea that I had failed this great warrior.

  “You needn’t,” Grathir growled. “It is I who should apologize to you.” He lowered his forelegs in an awkward bow, the cart that held his rear section creaked alarmingly.

  I darted to my feet, “Chigathi, you need not bow to me!”

  He straightened, “I must, for I am in your debt of honor, twice and more.” He gazed up at the stars, “I had hoped you would return here, in time. I must explain.” He paused, and his hide took on the blue tone of rew. “You have no doubt heard that I was one of the Royal Guard?”

  I could not speak, for I felt emotion choke me. I barely managed to nod.

  “I was a Leader among them, entrusted with the protection of Princess Hycar,” he said. “When the Nova Roma Empire attacked, my team protected her as we withdrew. We took much fire, for they knew the importance of our leadership to us.” I could only nod at this. Many of the refugees had felt adrift at the loss of the Emperor and his young sister. Legend said that they were descended from the Nogathi, the Blessed. Certainly their dynasty had ruled Ghornathi Har since before we had a recorded history.

  The aged warrior took a moment to speak, “What most here know is that I was gravely wounded and evacuated along with what remained of my family and that the Nova Romans captured Princess Hycar and executed her.” When he spoke, his voice was low, “They do not know that I had no surviving family. The princess stayed by my side while a decoy, my own granddaughter, was captured and executed.”

  My eyes widened with shock, “Then Chuni-”

  “Is the rightful Empress, yes,” Grathir said. “Something which I have told no one… no one save you and her. She bears her mother’s signet ring, a mark of her bloodline. She is the only surviving heir and I swore to defend her as long as I could.”

  “But…” I wanted to ask why Grathir hadn’t revealed her identity to the others in the camp, but I knew that quickly enough. She would not be safe, not until she proved herself. Just as some Ghornath had hesitated to protect the young Emperor, others would hesitate to defend his sister. She must be proven in battle, a hero who the others would honor. Then she would command not just their loyalty, but their hearts. “Why tell me?” I asked finally.

  “Because, you fought in battle with her. More, you impressed her. She begged from me the story of your mother… and your father,” Grathir answered. “When Leader Turok arrived, she insisted I find you, to try to talk you into joining them.”

  I shook my head, “He… would not have me.” I did not mention, then, that it was Turok who had cast me out to die as a young cub. Those in the camp looked well upon the veteran, but I would not set him against Turok.

  “I did not think so,” Grathir said. “There are others who fight for our people. Some in obvious ways, such as Turok, others from the shadows. War with Nova Roma has drained our people, turned many of them to hate. We must become strong again, build again. I know of some who try to build a better day for our people.” He sighed. “In truth, it was your mother, Rastar, who saved my life, who made it so that I lived long enough to instruct the princess in combat. I owe her for that. Indeed, I promised her that I would look after her cub and I failed in that, for when I arrived here, I heard that you were dead and did not ask questions.”

  I could not answer, I felt unworthy, “Grathir, my father…”

  “Made a mistake. A simple one. I know, I have reviewed the tapes myself, filled with rage over the events. Our entire race blames your father, but we might as well blame ourselves.”

  I thought of the recording and how my punishers had held me so that I must watch it, over and over as they beat me. I thought of the distracted look upon my father’s face as he gave the order to check again in regards to the suspected ships. Those ships led the Nova Roma surprise attack which gutted our system defenses and took the lives of over half a million of my people… to include my own father. His order had alerted those attacking ships that they’d been discovered and given them the opportunity to launch their munitions. This was what the survivors of my race not just believed, but knew. I was the son of the man who had killed his race.

  “Rastar Bastaff Antor,” Grathir said. “You listen to me. You saved the life of the rightful Empress. You slew pirates who would have killed thousands of unarmed Ghornath. You have no honor debt to repay… not to me, not to our people.”

  “They will not believe that,” I said.

  “Then show them that you are a warrior. I saw much promise and potential in that fight. You will be an unparalleled warrior, Rastar. You come from great families and you will redeem your name and gain much Chiga in battle… I have seen it.”

  How does one argue with a statement like that? I wonder to this day if the old warrior was gifted with some measure of prescience… or if he was just trying to encourage me.

  “There is a human mercenary ship which will return in a week. I have already spoken to their commander… He needs muscle, but you must become more than that. Become a leader, learn tactics and strategy, study human culture… we will need allies among them to fight the Chxor.”

  I nodded. I felt dazed from the revelations and the honors this old warrior bestowed upon me. “What do I do?”

  “Grow strong, gain Chiga, and then, when she needs you, help her,” Grathir said.

  * * *

  The icy, windswept planet of Howell had little of apparent value. The small human colony there had issues with a Centauri mining conglomerate. I hired on mostly because I didn’t like bullies. They couldn’t afford to pay much, but they were kind, they cooked good food, and they kept me stocked with coca cola. The other mercenaries they had weren’t nearly at my level, though there was one, Antonov, who I liked. It had been four years since I left behind Ghren. I sent most of my pay to Grathir, who now and then would send me a message about ‘Chuni.’ She had been promoted to Leader and had her own team. She asked about me. I had written her one letter, where I told her that my services and honor were hers, should she ask. I did not receive a reply.

  Antonov interrupted my latest round of reading old mail and cleaning my weapons. He and I had worked together several times before. He had, in fact, been with the first mercenary who had recruited me from Ghren. Antonov had a passion for holovids and he introduced me to them.

  They are fascinating, a vision into history and entertainment at once. I’ve learned much about Earth, particularly their vibrant and violent past. Their ancient Romans are, by far, more bloody and cruel than the Nova Romans. They seem to have been plagued by all manner of terrible monsters, which they have slain with a mix of human ingenuity and superior firepower. In particular, there are a manner of beasts, which Antonov called ‘kaiju’ which seem to attack large cities. These beasts are towering constructs of flesh, which I am told, resist all manner of conventional weapons.

  It is little wonder, then, that humans moved to other planets and systems. Even Howell seems a much nicer place than one which is so filled with predators.

  Antonov kicked in the door and then came to huddle over the stove. “My friends, it is colder than my wife’s heart
out there,” he said, his accent thick.

  “Which one?” Riley asked, a cocky smile on his face.

  “Both of them,” Antonov said with a laugh.

  Riley joined in. I didn’t like Riley, he was stocky and blonde, with blue eyes. Riley was one of those mercenaries who reminded me of the pirates I’d killed back on Ghren. He seemed to think that a gun gave him power and authority. Still, Antonov had said he was good in a fight and that he would work well on the team, so I put up with him.

  The other five members of our team were less experienced. Three of them had the looks of bouncers who wanted to make more money, big tough men. None nearly as big as me, of course. The other two were just normal men, down on their luck, who took a job as a hired gun with calm reluctance. Don’t get me wrong, I started out as little better than a bouncer, myself. But I became something more, I’d earned my mercenary charter from Tanis, from hard work and real combat.

  The locals had hired us all from Irkut. It wasn’t much better than Howell, but my last contract there had fallen through after the man who hired me as a bodyguard tried to rape a hotel maid. Antonov said I should have just killed him, but it seemed wrong to take his money and then kill him, so I’d just broken his arms and legs.

  The maid had helped Antonov and I to escape, at least.

  “Well, I’ve got some news,” Antonov said. “This little garrison duty is getting a little rougher. Locals said they spotted some armed men out near Huval’s crest. We should go and check it out, make sure the corporate types aren’t making a move.”

  Riley grimaced, “I don’t know if we’re getting paid enough to go out in that.”

  I stood up. I wore body armor sized to my frame, and carried four submachine guns and four fully automatic snub shotguns slung to my tactical armor. “They’re paying us what they can. Let’s check it out. It’s better we see them out there rather than in here with us,” I said. I didn’t want to be here if they attacked. The building had windows, but the others kept them closed against the wind and weather. Any attacker could slip up next to the building without us realizing it. That was why Antonov and I did foot patrols around the compound.

  “Right,” Riley grimaced. He glanced at the others, “Bruce and Ken, you coming?”

  Those two stood. Ken Salazar was a former bouncer, tough, but lazy. I didn’t like him, but he seemed to know how to handle his rifle at least. Bruce was one of the normal types, tall and thin. He had a smirk on his face, now, one that made me suddenly uneasy.

  I led the way out, followed by Antonov. As he came up next to me, I said, “Something’s up with Bruce.”

  Antonov glanced back. “You think he might have sold us out?”

  I shrugged uncomfortably, even as I tightened down my cold weather gear against the wind. “I don’t know.”

  Antonov patted me on the shoulder, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

  I gave him a grateful nod and a thumbs up. “Let’s go,” I said.

  Riley and Ken Salazar led the way. It was several kilometers to Huval’s Crest, the hill that overlooked the compound. We made it quickly enough. Despite any misgivings I felt about them, they moved cautiously and quietly as we went up the slope.

  “How many?” I asked. I felt a prick of unease as I studied the slope.

  “What?” Antonov asked, he looked distracted, his eyes on Bruce as the other man followed us. He also glanced at the distant compound, almost as if nervous about the men still there on guard.

  “How many armed men did the local see?” I asked. I studied the rocks above us and kul made my hide go pale. “There’s no way he could have come up this way without being seen by someone up there. We’re dangerously exposed.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” Antonov said. He looked over his shoulder at the distant compound again. His voice sounded distracted.

  “You keep looking back there,” I asked, “Why?”

  “Well, you know, I just want to be sure…” He trailed off as the rumbles of explosions reached us. I crouched and looked back in time to see the last structures of the compound erupt in a chain of explosions.

  At the same time, Bruce opened fire from below us. I drew my weapons and fired before I even really knew what had happened. The rounds cut the other man down. Behind me I heard more fire and I ducked to the side and took shelter behind a boulder. “They betrayed us! Antonov, I’ll cover you!”

  “Sorry friend,” I heard. I turned my head to see that Antonov had his grenade launcher aimed at me. “They offered a lot of money… and I knew you wouldn’t take it.”

  He fired. The grenade detonated at my rearfeet. In the flash of high explosives, I saw Antonov’s smiling face burned into my mind.

  * * *

  I awoke, and for a moment my past and present merged. I couldn’t tell if I was a cub again, beaten by my enemies and left for dead or if I was a mercenary betrayed by my companions. I could tell I was badly injured. The blast had shredded my rearlegs, bone and flesh dangled down, connected by strings of tissue. My intestines had spilled into the dirt. I tried to crawl, but the pain was too much.

  Antonov and Riley had stripped me of anything of value. My guns, my money, even my holovid player was gone. My body armor was twisted and torn. I felt the cold and blood loss had begun to drag me towards a final sleep, for my body felt cold and sluggish. The pain began to grow somewhat distant.

  I regretted that I had failed the people of this world. I had failed them, and they had died because Antonov was greedy and I hadn’t seen it. I regretted that I had failed Grathir and Princess Hycar. I could not serve them, not if I were dead on some meaningless rock. I did not regret my death, only that I had failed.

  Then I saw the light. It came from a shuttle. The shuttle drew closer, and I saw a team, in bulky black body armor, rappel down. One of them drew near, “Ghornath, fits the description of the merc.”

  “Gods,” another said, “He’s still alive.”

  “Wow,” the first said, as he came closer, “I’d heard you cats were tough, but… hey, can you hear me?”

  “Yes,” I said, my voice faint, even to myself.

  The team leader spoke into his radio, “Command, this is Lancer Five, we have a survivor here. Looks like the Ghornath might make it. Can we get a recovery team down here?”

  I didn’t hear the response. My world faded. Some part of me watched as the Centauri Commando team recovered Bruce’s corpse. Their medic team arrived not long after, and two of them went to work on me, even as the shuttle lowered a harness. “Hang in there, tough bastard.”

  * * *

  I awoke in a hospital. I had no real experience in human hospitals, but the sterile metal surfaces and bright lights matched what I had seen in holovids. I still felt somewhat disconnected, either from my wounds or medication, I couldn’t tell which.

  “Mr. Antor,” a woman’s cool, cultured voice spoke. I could barely see her silhouette against the lights.

  “I am Rastar,” I said.

  “Rastar, then,” she responded. “You are gravely injured. I am told you are a mercenary, that you protected the people on Howell?”

  “I failed them,” I said. “I failed everyone.”

  “Rastar, you fought well. You are very tough. My people have little experience with aliens, most of your kind populate the far reaches of human space. We conduct some research, here, research which might help you.”

  “Help me?” I asked, puzzled.

  “Your legs, your back, they are very badly mauled. We could save only a limited amount of the tissue, your body will not recover, I’m afraid. You will have limited use of your front legs. No use to your rear legs, we had to amputate to just below the hip,” her voice contained no emotion. “Your lower set of arms also took severe burns, along with much of your body. I’m afraid that we have to keep your body cleansed to prevent necrosis of your tissue as well as secondary infection.”

  I couldn’t answer. What she had described would make me a cripple. I might as we
ll be dead. In fact, it would be better if I were dead. Then at least, I would not be a burden. “What can you do?” I finally managed to ask.

  “We have a number of experimental procedures,” she said. “For one, cybernetics are an option, as are some experimental procedures. We’ll examine your case very thoroughly and we’ll apply whatever resources we feel are appropriate.”

  “What do you want from me?” I asked.

  “We will employ you as security for our facilities,” she answered. “Your exact duties will be laid out by someone more familiar with those aspects. Your contract will last as long as we need to study the repairs. In return, we’ll get you functioning and pay you for your services.”

  This was my chance, I saw. I could have a second opportunity, to serve my people and to regain my Chiga. I would not fail, I would take whatever recovery, suffer through their studies, and then, when I had my opportunity, I would once again become the warrior that Grathir had charged me to become. “Do it.”

  * * *

  I was not quite sure, even now, how things had gone so completely and utterly wrong. How could I have underestimated the humans? Had I not seen how untrustworthy their powerful elite could be, in the destruction of my home-world’s defenses and the looting of my system? Had I not been betrayed by Antonov, my first human friend?

  Still, as I stepped into the offices of the ship’s Captain, I tried my best to keep my emotions in check.

  The portly human behind the desk looked me up and down, “Ship’s security? You got any experience in that?”

  “Yes,” I said, truthfully. “I’ve served as private security aboard several ships.” Granted, at the time, they put me in powered armor and had me guard top secret cargoes, all the while they monitored my every move. Even so, I thought I could manage aboard the aging freighter, even armed with only a pair of pistols and garbed in just a utility uniform.

  Captain Phillips grunted noncommittally. “I can’t pay much. We’re doing a quick run to the Crow system I just need someone who can keep stowaways off and make sure my crew doesn’t jump ship with my cargo.”