Star Chaser- The Traveler

by Reiter

  “Capacitors in the shield,” Gantee said as he slowly approached. “So while we thought we were disciplining an arrogant shay-spawn, you were actually charging your weapon.

  “Where is your shield now, shay-spawn?” Gantee asked, lifting his free hand that held a small orb of energy.

  “Yes!” an augmented voice cried out as SonBa leapt from the viewing booth and dropped to the arena floor. He landed beside Gantee and grabbed the wrist holding the intended photon. “We have a Champion!” the First Prince proclaimed. “We have the Champion of these Games! What say you?!” Gantee allowed the photon to burn out and released his Force grip on Dungias’ body.

  Heavily stunned from the collision with the wall, Dungias fell to his knees and was unconscious by the time the attendees made it impossible to hear anything as they shouted their praises of Champion Z’Gunok Tel Gantee.

  “Wake up!” a harsh voice demanded as cryokinetic energy wrapped around Dungias’ chest. He tried to gasp for air, but the ice had already formed tightly around his ribs and he could only breathe so deeply.

  Dungias opened his eyes to see that he had been restrained with power shackles and had been made to stand in front of Duke MarrZo. Three blinks of his eyes told him that the Duke was not the only one in the room with him. He could see the Master, Mistress, and first-born of the Kith Z’Gunok had been assembled, along with the House Adgurso, and both were in the presence of the First Princess, the First Prince, and what seemed to be a few dignitaries.

  It was Warseth who stood in front of him, directing the freezing cold at Dungias’ chest. It took little perception to see the anger and disgust in his eyes. He removed his hand from Dungias and the ice fell to the ground. Though the power shackles kept him standing with his arms extended straight out from the shoulders, Dungias collapsed as he gasped for air.

  “He is conscious, Your Highness,” Warseth reported.

  “So it would seem,” Sryla replied before looking at Dungias. “And we do have a celebration to return to as soon as we can. I find myself disgusted to be in this thing’s presence!” Dungias laughed, letting his head drop forward between his shoulders. “You find something amusing, cretin?”

  “I am not an animal,” Dungias said, smiling at Danatra.

  “You challenged a judge,” his Vi-Prin retorted. “You think that the action of a Malgovi?”

  “He took too long to give judgment,” Dungias stated. “One that inept is in no place to judge my Vu-Prin!”

  “How dare you?!” Sryla hissed through clenched teeth.

  “Forgive me, First Princess,” Dungias said. “… but I was not aware my inability to wield iro removed me from the potential of speaking the truth. Or am I in error to say that Zarrak was removed from the contest before the energy trap was created?”

  “He should have been removed from the contest before you were forced to deflect several energy bolts,” SonBa stated in obvious reflection, nodding as he recalled the moment. As heads turned to look at the First Prince, the realization of what he had said slowly dawned on him and he stopped nodding. “Oh,” he stammered. “Sorry.”

  “He still dared to strike a Mentor!” Warseth insisted.

  “He was no Mentor, he was a Second!” Dungias retorted. “Too bad Zarrak had not asked for a favor from your House.” Three servants took hold of Warseth before he could reach Dungias with hands that crackled with energy. “Or did he? Did he make such a request, and that sorry relic was the best you could afford him?! At least that would explain your anger. The humiliation alone will probably keep you from the next Iro-Games.” A Force bolt combined with pure energy burst against Dungias’ chest and he cried out in pain. Heads turned to see Danatra advancing, her hand still smoking from the creation of the hybrid iro-form.

  “No, Dungias, you’re not an animal,” she said. “An animal can be trained. You are something far, far worse!”

  “Danatra!” Laylaria said before her husband’s arm was stretched out in front of her.

  “My Princess,” Danatra said, bowing to Sryla. “Please forgive my Vi-Zai. As an Iro-Gell, she assumes and accepts a greater measure of responsibility. But this thing is no more my Vu-Prin than the dirt underneath my boot.

  “And to add to his crimes, he consorts openly with Vinthur!” The proclamation drew the attention of the Royals and the Duke. It changed the tone of the dim and damp room.

  “Master and Lady Z’Gunok,” SonBa said as his eyes took on a slight glow. “Clarify!”

  “Dungias encountered a Traveler,” Laylaria quickly offered. “An old Traveler, actually. My Vu-Khan saved him… he was suffering from venkaldolis.”

  “That old, eh?” Warseth commented as he rubbed his chin.

  “I believe this Traveler means to have business with Dungias,” Laylaria continued.

  “A Traveler has come for one of us,” SonBa thought. “My Queen, you did not send me to monitor the Games.”

  “I did not send you at all, my Vu-Khan,” Queen BaKedia quickly replied inside her son’s mind. “Once again, the errand given was to my heir. We only give word regarding the Light when it requests such fanfare, and I received no such request. I also was unable to glean the Traveler, but given his age, that is not surprising.”

  “What would you ask of me now, Vi-Zai?” SonBa asked.

  “Watch and learn! Even with the power of the Throne behind me, there are many things I cannot manipulate. What transpires in front of you is but one example. But have faith, my Prince. If indeed there is an old Traveler about, perhaps he has already marked a course of resolve… and like him, it may be a course we cannot see.”

  “Then we should hope this business will remove him from our sight and the Kith!” Danatra said bitterly.

  “We still have the matter of a shay-spawn putting offensive hand to–”

  “He was named as a Second in the Iro-Games!” SonBa interrupted the First Princess. “How would you have him respond to his Vu-Prin’s request?”

  “I am more concerned with how I should respond to yours, my Prince,” Sryla said.

  “If I may,” Danatra offered. “Since we have two less than desirable presences with which we must contend, let us see if one will take the other and relieve us of both.”

  “I believe I can recall why I enjoy your compositions, young Mistress,” Sryla smiled. “But what if the Vinthur will have nothing to do with your Vu–”

  “My only Vu-Prin is Champion of the Iro-Games,” Danatra quickly said. “The Kith Z’Gunok has redeemed itself and the sooner we can discard the shadows of the past, the better.”

  “I could not agree more, Your Majesty,” Warseth hastened to add. “Let us leave it to the sort of fate that the Vinthur cling so tightly to. We leave Dungias here and direct the Traveler where the one he seeks can be found. If he takes him, so be it. If not, he will be sent to the mines. Let him apply his craft and his back to that labor.”

  “If that is the case,” Sryla decided, “then make sure that wherever his initial debt starts, that amount is tripled to answer for his crimes in the Games.”

  “It shall be as you have deemed, Your Highness.”

  “Excuse me!” Laylaria whispered, quickly turning on her heels. She jogged out of the room as she started crying. Jorl’Lassor made his apologies and chased after her.

  Sryla looked at Danatra and could tell she was not ready to depart. Still, there was a celebration to attend and guests to see and entertain. She gestured to the Champion of the Games and he moved quickly to take her arm and escort her from the holding cell.

  “My apologies, Danatra,” Dungias said softly. “I leave you without a suitable target for your discarded file-storage devices.” Dungias had little time to laugh as Danatra fired iro from her eyes. It was focused coherent light with a drilling effect. Dungias gritted his teeth as she bore into him, and his Vi-Prin only stopped when she could see the beam burning through his right shoulder. With nothing more to say, Danatra took her leave. The last of the Duke’s men exited right behind
Danatra and turned off the lights as they closed and locked the door behind themselves. Dungias could already tell there was no way to look into the cell from the corridor, as the door possessed no portal. Despite what had been discussed and agreed upon only moments ago… all of it… every word was merely a ruse to get him to hope for an arrival that could not come. Dungias had never known a time when he wanted to so much to act so violently. The shackles were not about to give, and the door was not about to open. The question of his immediate future was easily answered.

  “So… it’s going to be the mines.”

  There are two mistakes one can make along the road to truth...not going all the way, and not starting.

  Buddha

  The sensations awaiting Dungias when he made his approach toward consciousness surprised him. For him, it was a certainty: pain and torment were to become his most constant companions. But they were elsewhere when he first tried to open his eyes.

  “Breathe easy, Dungias,” a soft voice spoke in K’Vo to him. The sound was accompanied by an equally soft hand. The level of comfort was too great, he had to be dreaming, and that was a state of mind he did not wish to entertain at the moment… not with the misery of the mines awaiting him. His body shuddered as he brought his head up from a makeshift pillow. His eyes opened fully and Dungias blinked as he forced them to focus.

  “Easy, I say!” the voice spoke, but its tones were more familiar this time and Dungias looked up into the warm teal eyes of the Vinthur called Saru. “You are a stubborn one.” Dungias started to smile when his body reminded him of moments not yet long enough into his past. His right shoulder ached, and while it was the outspoken point of pain, it was in fine company, and Dungias moaned. “And such is the price we pay for being stubborn. I was treating your shoulder wound,” she reported. “But I had to clean the skin first.”

  “Thank you,” Dungias said softly, remembering how his body came to be burned at the shoulder.

  “You are welcome, Dungias,” she smiled as she continued her work. “But tell me… what is this resin that covers your entire body?”

  “Sopki Oil,” Nugar answered as he walked up and sat down beside Saru. His eyes squinted as he looked at Dungias. “It’s used in much of the machinery… especially Malgovi machinery. It protects mechanisms from iro-form emissions, especially those of an electrical sort.

  “Of course,” Nugar said as his face relaxed. He looked at the ground and found reason to smile as he nodded. “Your kommis’ slide-sled. Those capacitors were what allowed him to charge his propulsion units in the Second Round of the Games. So, a shield and an armoured sleeve both assembled in a very short time. Good work!”

  “Thank you,” Dungias replied as he took the opportunity to look around. Though the sounds of the place were kept from his ears, there was no way to disguise he was at a starport. Given the size of it, his first guess was that it was the public starport of his home city of TehShagu. “Are you meant to be my escort to the mines?” he quickly inquired. Saru looked at her gemnur and smiled. She stood up, gathered the medical supplies and started the process of returning them to the kit for storage.

  “Your K’Vo is very good,” Nugar commented, squinting once more. “They teach that still in the schools here?”

  “No. I taught myself. Forgive me, old one, but you did not respond to my inquiry.”

  “No, I didn’t, did I?” Nugar snorted, “… at least, not directly.” Nugar leaned back against the wall that was behind him and slowly the sound of the starport came up and swirled around Dungias. He looked around as he heard the engines of endless transports, automated drones and personal conveyances. “And you’re pretty direct… you also prefer things to be direct, don’t you?”

  “It seems simpler to be that way,” Dungias replied and Nugar snorted, pressing his lips together.

  “It isn’t,” Nugar said, looking away and sighing. “Still, if you knew everything, what would be the point of this?”

  “The point of what?”

  “Forgive me, Gemnur,” Laejem spoke as he approached. He looked flustered and somewhat desperate. “I could find no one who would grant us passage on their ship.”

  “Sour sticks!” Nugar cursed, kicking over the box Saru had been using for a seat. “It’s been half a star-term already! One would think they’d be too invested in the throes of celebration.” Nugar began to pace. On his third circuit, he patted the shoulder of his grandchild, letting the young Vinthur know the old Traveler did not blame the eager young pilot. He turned to look at Dungias. “My ship seats three… I suppose we will have to store you like so much cargo.”

  “Neyeh, Gemnur!” Saru exclaimed. Copper eyes cut toward her and she lowered her eyes to the ground, taking a step back. Saru knew she had overstepped boundaries in telling her gemnur no.

  “It isn’t really up to me though, is it, direct man of Z’Gunok?” Nugar asked. “Perhaps in your direct approach, you missed something.”

  “I do not understand,” Dungias replied.

  “No, I don’t suppose you do,” Nugar sighed as he looked at his grandchildren. “Let’s have a look at the supplies in the cargo hold and see what we can part with. We’ll make room for our living parcel then.”

  “If I may intercede, good Traveler,” Narwyss spoke, in K’Vo, walking up to Nugar and giving a formal bow. “H’Dalvi Vior Narwyss, Commander, pilot, and navigator.

  “This is S’Goorda Turo,” Narwyss said as he stood up straight and gestured over to his most trusted officer. “… Sub-Officer, pilot, warrior, and kommis.” Nugar’s eyebrows lifted at hearing the K’Vo word for ‘brother’, especially since the large Malgovi lacked a status name. It marked him as shay-spawn, as most of the soldiers of the Malgovi Militia were.

  “Master Traveler,” Turo said, bowing to Nugar, and the Traveler looked at the beige streaks in the thick black hair of the muscle-bound fighter. They were not of the painted sort… quite natural in fact… indicative of a warrior spirit. Most would have assumed his ability from the weapons he wore, but they would have missed the level of skill revealed to the Traveler as he examined the tilt of the holster and how worn the holding straps were.

  “I hope you can–”

  “One would first have to intrude for an intrusion to be forgiven, Commander,” Nugar interrupted. He was pleased to see open eyes among the Malgovi, but he did not like the attention brought about by a Malgovi Officer bowing to him. “How can I help you?”

  “From the sounds of things, Master, it is I who can help you,” Narwyss smiled in his response. “My Sub-Officer overheard your…”

  “Gemvazi,” Nugar said. “Laejem, endeared pilot and student. This is my Gemopadiah,” Nugar reported, designating Saru. “Saru, beloved healer adept and student.”

  “I understand,” Narwyss said after nodding to the Traveler’s grandchildren. “He overheard your gemvazi as he made inquiry regarding passage off-planet. Might I presume your destination is the K’Dalkian System?”

  “And if it is?” Nugar asked.

  “Then please allow my ship to be your deliverance,” Narwyss offered. “My business on Threm has drawn to a very profitable end, and I am bound for the very same system. My Battle Group should be landing shortly on Gavis Station. It may not be your particular destination, but I am sure you’ll be able to procure transport more easily from there.”

  “Gavis? Then you are not of the Malgovi Militia. You are Mal-Vin,” Nugar stated.

  “We are at that, good Traveler,” Narwyss replied with a slight smile.

  “Before I give you my answer, Commander, tell me who taught you the Vinthur tongue?”

  “Y’Talria,” Narwyss said, bowing again. “Esteemed Traveler and saytrah-at-arms.”

  “I know of her,” Nugar said, limiting his response. “If she gave you her words, you already possessed her trust. As it turns out, young Commander, we are in need, and your offer is gladly accepted.”

  “Good,” Narwyss smiled. “My Sub-Officer will accompany you to you
r ship while I escort your family to mine. We will meet among the Stars.”

  “Keep to your course, Commander,” Nugar replied as he started for his ship. Turo did not need to be spurred to keep pace, and Nugar found reason to smile as he made his way to his gate.

  Dungias said nothing as he walked beside Saru and he kept his head low as it quickly became clear to him that he was recognized and had started receiving very cold stares. The only time he gave himself room to lift his head was when he looked upon a giant view screen that served as one of the many monitors for the public announcement system. Footage of Gantee receiving his Championship medal from the First Princess was playing. Dungias sighed at the regalia of the clothes his Vu-Prin wore. A slight smile formed on his face as he gazed upon the event.

  “They have removed any image of you from the reels,” Saru reported, disgust breaking through her normally silken tones.

  “I did not do it to be remembered by the databanks of the Games,” Dungias said. “Nor for the cold eyes that are upon me now.”

  “I doubt he will speak your name aloud,” Saru pointed out.

  “I did not do it for him either,” Dungias said, looking at Saru.

  “Then why?”

  “Whether they claim me or not, I am of Z’Gunok. I will do what I can to keep its standing.”

  “Why?!” Laejem barked. “They haven’t given you anything! Even your own nur di–”

  “Kommis!” Saru warned.

  “There is no falsehood in his words,” Dungias quickly answered. “But let me offer this: my nur and my ishah gave me life, and that is a gift I can never repay.”

  “Then let us keep moving,” Narwyss suggested. “Before these cold eyes do more than simply glare with their hatred of you.” As the young ones were ushered forward, many of the eyes staring at Dungias dared to meet with Narwyss’. None remained longer than one of his strides, as no one wanted their eyes to be misinterpreted. The law of the land allowed the Officers of the militia to deal with attacks received, or perceived, in any fashion they deemed necessary and ‘fatality’ was a word that was often used in the tales of the First Prince’s teacher. It was a powerful position, but Narwyss rarely opted to exercise the benefit, believing that one maligned individual might be all the spark a mob would need to engage in more than simple thought.