Star Chaser- The Traveler

by Reiter

  Kynsada chuckled, shaking her head. “I would hope so, you fool. It was the Malgovi that taught the Vinthur how to be Travelers in the first place. Of course, that was a long time ago. The walking stars do not have the taste for it anymore. If anything, this Dungi is a return to the way things were… when both peoples were greater.”

  “I suppose that explains some of it,” Onkorro remarked.

  “Some of what?”

  “As I told you, the boy’s been all over the ship and more than one circuit. At first he was helping me with some of the maintenance. Now he’s doing the work by himself and I would wager he’s got a better hand at it than I do! A lot can come to shine from this moment.” Onkorro looked down and stirred his soup. “I just wonder if we’re worthy of the task.”

  Kynsada had only been with Starfire for half an orbi-term, but Onkorro had been among the first to welcome her to the team and explain that if Guyn pounded on her body until she collapsed, she should not take it personally. He was loose with his tongue, but sure on a trek and a damn fine shot. She was unaccustomed to seeing him uneasy. Normally all it took was for him to look at a dire situation and come up with some sort of quip.

  “Perhaps I misjudged his devotion to the Stars,” she thought. She smiled for a moment and brushed her knuckles against his chin.

  “Narwyss trusts Voko, yes?” she asked.

  “Almost implicitly.”

  “And Voko trusts Guyn?”

  “Even more so.”

  “And Guyn chose us,” she concluded. “So stop worrying if you’re up to the task. If you have to be concerned about anything, worry about failing our Exemplar.” Kynsada considered the matter resolved and went back to her meal. Onkorro sat there, staring at the female with a very blank face. After a few moments, he returned to his meal and had two good spoon’s worth in his mouth when Dungias rounded the bend.

  “Guyn sent me to bring you to the bridge, Onkorro,” he reported, giving a head nod to his hand-to-hand sparring partner. Kynsada licked her spoon and returned the nod. “We’re to start landing procedures soon.” Onkorro looked up, mystified.

  “Landing?”

  With all forward progress stopped, Onkorro checked his instrumentation once more. They were in the middle of the Void, at the lower edge of a blue-green twisting nebula, and his eyes could see nothing which could facilitate any sort of landing. Quickly looking at his console, the ship’s sensors agreed with his eyes.

  “I almost forgot what it was like to be in the company of Travelers,” he mumbled as Nugar entered the control room.

  “How good are you at maneuvers, Onkorro?” he asked directly as he walked up and stood behind the pilot’s chair.

  “I’ve been known to walk away from them, Master,” Onkorro replied and Dungias smiled at the soldier’s mirth.

  “Then go to full manual and be ready to react,” Nugar said as he drew his Osamu from his sash. Dungias’ eyes flared at seeing the device once more. After what he had seen in the alley, he had a number of questions about it, having only read about the legendary weapons. Nugar had replied with only two words: “Not yet” and that had been the end of the matter. The last thing Dungias wanted to do was pester the old Vinthur who was no longer as old. ‘Not yet’ meant that eventually he would tell his student what he wanted to know, and Dungias held to that faith, though he remained very eager for the time to come. “We won’t have much time,” he explained as he took the Osamu in both hands. “Five, maybe ten tanku at most on the first tone, double that on the second. There will not be a third, as I can only do this twice in a star-term. Stand ready.”

  Nugar stepped back from Onkorro and then waved for Dungias to give him more room to operate. The bridge of the ship was small, containing only chairs for the pilot and the navigator. Dungias looked around and jumped to the wall behind him, using it as a step up into the rafters. He pulled himself up to sit on the crossbeam.

  “If nothing else,” Nugar thought, closing his eyes. “… the boy is quick!” After a very slow twirling of the Osamu, Nugar squared his shoulders and hummed. A light flashed on the side of the Osamu and Dungias could hear a soft tone respond to Nugar’s one-note song. He stopped twirling the Osamu, turned ninety degrees to his right and hummed again. The Osamu responded in the same manner and Nugar turned a second time, humming again.

  “Stars of my Fathers!” Onkorro said softly as the response tone of the Osamu became much lower and a vibration could be felt through the compartment.

  “We’re too far forward,” Nugar said. “What we seek is directly behind us. Come right to reverse our course and let me know when you are three-quarters into your turn.

  “Received and understood, Master,” Onkorro replied as he initiated forward thrust and started his turn. Dungias looked at the console and then back at his teacher. His eyes strained to catch every detail. “There we are, Master, three-quarters through.”

  Nugar breathed out sharply and grabbed the Osamu at one end. Lifting the object up, he slammed it down on the floor of the compartment and the ship shook, nearly driving Dungias from his perch. As he clung to the crossbeam, he looked at Onkorro’s console which was suddenly registering detection of an object. Proximity alarms also sounded.

  “That’s not possible!” Onkorro said as he saw a planetoid on his console, coming around to his view. “Safety hold!” he said in a strong voice after opening the intercom. He slammed the throttle forward and banked hard to the right. From the feel of the turn, Dungias was also caught in a moment of disbelief. It was nearly impossible to feel sharp turns in the Void, only in atmosphere or in a gravimetric flux could such a sharp change in course register on the bodies of the passengers.

  The rocky face of the free-floating space body came into view and Onkorro hit the controls to ready the landing claws.

  “Your landing place will be on the top of the planetoid,” Nugar directed. “So we’re a little low… and there will be a soft surface at the upper right corner of the third quadrant.”

  “Understood,” Onkorro said as he deactivated the claws and readied the landing struts. He did not slow the ship at all as he pulled back on the stick. The nose and belly of the ship came incredibly close to the side of the planetoid. Only as the ship started coming away from the side did Onkorro have the room to roll the ship and keep from scraping the short wings against the rocks.

  The shuttle came up over the top of the planetoid just as it faded from sight. Dungias gasped at the brief sight of rolling hills, wild grass, and trees. It resembled a naturalist preserve and fell from sight far too soon for his taste.

  “Let me know when you’ll need another glance,” Nugar said, readying his Osamu.

  “Just give me a few tanku here,” Onkorro answered, pulling back on the stick and rolling the ship once more. He pulled back halfway on the forward engines and took a deep breath. He eased the stick forward, taking the ship into a slight dive. “Now!”

  The Osamu struck the floor again and sent another pulse through the ship. The planetoid could be seen again, and Onkorro was already pulling the stick to the left. He guided the ship around an especially high mountain and spun the ship into a descending spiral. As the nose came around nearly full circle, Onkorro smiled.

  “There’s our landing place,” he declared, beginning to work his controls more quickly, though seemingly deft at what he was doing. Eleven tanku later, the ship jostled as the struts made contact with solid ground.

  “Well done, Onkorro,” Nugar said softly and Dungias noticed the level of fatigue registering on his teacher’s face. He quickly jumped down from the rafters and ducked his head under Nugar’s arm. The Traveler chuckled at the concern his student had for his welfare. “Easy there, my student. I just need a moment to get my bearings. I suppose this is the price I pay for coming here in anything other than my own ship.” Depressing a switch on the side of the Osamu, dome-shaped doors closed over the landing circle. Pumps activated, purging the gasses around the shuttle and replacing them with breat
hable air. When a light blinked four times on the Osamu, Nugar stood on his own, patting Dungias on the shoulder. “There we are. Onkorro, please give note that we are cleared to disembark.

  “Come with me, Dungi,” Nugar directed as he made his way to the side door. After entering the code to unlock and open the portal, Nugar turned and looked at Dungias. “You’re going to find that life is, at best, a series of new beginnings. You are an object, searching for your place in the universe, and you collide with various other objects and a multitude of openings until you at last come to one that fits. Do you know what happens then?”

  “After I have found my place in the universe?” Dungias pondered. “I suppose I embrace paradise and live out the rest of my existence.” Nugar covered his mouth to keep from laughing aloud.

  “I have to admit with you I expected a great many things. Poet, however, was not one of those considerations. I shall have to adjust my trek.” The gangplank was still reaching for the ground when Nugar started his way down the walkway. “What you offered is incredibly passionate… I would dare to say sweepingly romantic, but ultimately… it is innocent, as all of us are until we dare to do more than simply look at the light.

  “But that is the place you come to because of your environment,” Nugar said when he reached the landing circle. Dungias started down the gangplank, but stopped as he noticed the floor lowering. “You were introduced to everything you know by your environment, and I am not sure I have the time I would normally like to take to purge you of–”

  “Please, Teacher, proceed that best way you can,” Dungias pleaded. “If I have learned nothing else, I know that the place from which I came was not my place in the universe. The purge you speak of began orbi-terms ago. I may not know what I need to in your eyes, but I recognize that many of the things I learned among my people were wrong.”

  “That must be why you are as impressive as you are then,” Nugar returned. “Because you made everything you are entirely from yourself. It had nothing to do with the treatment you received from your fellow Malgovi – it was entirely a work of Z’Gunok Tel Dungias! However, that leaves me to wonder why I’m here.” Nugar continued to walk and when he reached the edge, the floor had lowered enough for him to access a tunnel. He opened the door and proceeded further into the planetoid.

  “Teacher, now I am confused.”

  “As you should be,” Nugar said, stopping and turning to face his student. His eyes were not stern so much as they were focused. “You were led into a trap. Boy, if I have something to say, the only respect you need to give me is to listen. Whether I am right or wrong is something you will ultimately decide yourself. Do not take my words as points of perfection. If I were so perfect, would I have needed you to save my life?”

  “No, I suppose not.” Dungias said, his tone reflecting a mixture of uneasiness and surprise at what he was seeing.

  “You’re not altogether here, are you?”

  “No, Teacher, I am not.”

  Nugar chuckled as he turned and resumed his trek to the control room. “This is my home and, if it is to your liking, yours as well. At least for this point in time. You two should become acquainted. It is the perfect little haven!”

  “It is at that,” Dungias muttered as he walked over to the side of the tunnel and touched the wall. The rock was rough and cold. It was extremely hard and incredibly dense. Formidable in its feel, Dungias rubbed the small amount that clung to his fingertips together and looked around. “Not exactly the way I would have gone, but this is fascinating.”

  “And what would you have changed, Dungi?” Kynsada asked as she walked by Dungias. “No, let me guess. You would have the walls glow with light reflective of your mood!”

  “A better hue than if it were reflective of your intelligence, First Flank,” Dungias replied. “Though that would be a more effective training device for when I will have to function while blind.” Kynsada stopped and turned to face Dungias. She was ushered further down the tunnel by Onkorro.

  “Leave it alone,” he said. “He got the better of you on that exchange.”

  “Only because we’re sparring with words!” Kynsada snapped, glaring back at Dungias.

  “Perhaps I should give her a math problem before our next match,” Dungias said, returning his attention to the tunnel. His focus was shaken as Guyn blasted a hearty laugh.

  “It might do more than that thing you call a straight punch,” the Exemplar offered as he continued to laugh and the two Malgovi traded smiles. “Don’t be too long with your investigations. That old one is full of traps, and he may have invited you to fall into yet another.”

  “Thank you, Exemplar,” Dungias returned. “I won’t be much longer.” Dungias waited until the Exemplar was out of sight before he started looking around again. The door leading to the landing circle closed and Dungias could see that it was pressurized. He was confused as to why there was such a heavy door leading to the landing circle until he looked up and saw that both walls of the tunnel did not meet with the ceiling.

  Jumping from side to side, Dungias made his way up the wall and clung to the ledge. He peered up over the edge and spied a crawlspace into which he pressed his body. Scurrying through the tunnel, Dungias noticed that the rock was suddenly smooth and seemed to have been cut by hand. He crawled for a few moments, coming to a point where he could see light ahead of him. The access tunnel was just over eighty trams away, and he had no idea how far it was to the point of light that glimmered in front of him. It was a soft white light, but it was not steady and it changed color just before dimming for a few tanku and then glistening white again.

  “Hmmm, I think I will be a bit longer than I expected,” Dungias huffed as he continued forward and found a reason to smile. “Perhaps I am about to find my place in the universe!

  “Is it a machine of some sort?” Dungias thought as he continued to crawl. “Because I am not feeling any warmth with the light. Surely there should be some–” Dungias’ hands sank into the stone and before he could regain his balance, his body tumbled down a steep ramp. He looked left and right, searching for something he could grab in order to arrest his speed and direction. Everything seemed to be just out of reach for his hands and feet.

  “Must not panic!” he thought, shifting the focus of his search to seeking out where the ramp was taking him. He could see a floor quickly approaching and put his hands to the ramp, somersaulting in time to have his feet receive the end of the ramp. It was not a comfortable stoppage, but far better than having to absorb the impact with his hands, face and chest. Dungias stood up and dusted himself off, looking around the area in which he now found himself. He could see several ramps feeding into the area, but they were all receding up into the walls of the chamber. Dungias already knew they were out his best jump’s range and decided not to give an attempt. Instead, he walked around the area he had come to and started exploring. Dungias could still see the light that had drawn him forward, and if anything, he had come to a place where he could move toward it in a more comfortable fashion.

  “Still no warmth,” Dungias monitored. “And the fluctuations have stopped. Has the light source taken notice of me? I wonder if my presence affects the tone or magnitude of it.”

  “What are you doing here?” Nugar shouted. Dungias turned to see his Teacher standing close enough to touch. He stumbled away from the Vinthur, but quickly regained his balance. “How did you get in here?!”

  “There was a crawlspace off–” Dungias started, suddenly finding it difficult to talk. The face he saw and the voice he heard were indeed Nugar’s. The form, however, felt wrong. The stance was too straight, and Nugar hardly ever engaged in an authoritative tone. Then there was the completely obvious fact.

  “A crawlspace?! Where?” Nugar barked.

  “Wait! You’re not my teacher,” Dungias said, squinting his eyes.

  “Oh. I’m not?” the false Nugar questioned. Dungias opted not to advise the projection that in this light, all real objects cast a shado
w. The eyes of the image flared with white light just before Dungias was lifted from the floor and thrown against a wall where his body remained suspended off of the ground. “Learn anything from that?”

  “Correction,” Dungias panted, trying to clear his head, “you’re not my Teacher Nugar.” His body was allowed to fall to the floor and the image of Nugar smiled.

  “Now that point I cannot argue,” the image said as it approached without moving its feet. “Who are you?”

  “I am Dungias. I am Nugar’s student.”

  “Student of what?”

  “Whatever he deems fit to teach me, I suppose,” Dungias replied. “But I believe it might be something in the way of becoming a Traveler.”

  “Ooohhh!” the image gasped as its eyes brightened. “A Traveler?! How exciting! You must be anxious!”

  “I tell you, friend,” Dungias replied, his body giving in half collapse. “For the first time I can say it aloud. Yes, I am very anxious! Anxious and excited, stunned and suspicious, impatient and afraid… I am all these things and more.”

  “Why do you call me friend?” the image inquired. “Especially after I threw your body against the wall.”

  Dungias looked back at the wall and his head tilted in consideration. “I would mark that as a simple misunderstanding. I should have been more specific. After all, is not anyone with whom we may exchange ideas both our student and our teacher?”

  “That is a strong point.”

  “So, you are my teacher. Just not the one called Nugar. And then there is the fact that we share the same excitement about Travelers,” Dungias reminded his new acquaintance. “But it has struck me that we have not exchanged names yet. You know that I am Dungias, but I do not know your name.”

  “There is a problem with that,” the image replied as the definition of Nugar’s face began to change. The figure remained hominoid, but now he was composed of blue light, a tone which matched Dungias’ skin. He then created long white hair, matching Dungias’ length. “How about Saignud?”