Star Chaser- The Traveler

by Reiter

  “Leave only one-quarter,” Dungias directed as the charging wave stalled at a twenty-tram radius.

  “HOLD!” Dungias shouted in their tongue. “We are not ‘they’.”

  “You lie!” one of the BroSohnti screamed, charging the two Malgovi.

  “Keep your place,” Dungias ordered as he moved to meet the charging BroSohnti. With his opponent being unarmed, Dungias wanted to think he had the advantage. Still, he assumed his opponent was his superior… a superiority driven more by rage than skill. Dungias stamped the leg just over the front knee, stopping the charge. Using that foothold as a jump point, the young Traveler jumped, kicking across the face with his other foot. He completed the spin and on his descent to the ground, Alpha struck the side of the warrior’s face and made him spin before his chest met with the ground. The impact was loud enough to mask the sound of the probe bursting through the ceiling of the chamber, lodging itself on the far wall, deep within the shaded area of the gigantic room.

  “Most interesting,” Dungias thought as he started to review the thoughts and memories of the one he had struck.

  “This BroSohnti was a soldier in the war against our people,” Dungias advised the First Prince. “He has died and been reborn as a Grenbi over three hundred times… and he remembers each and every rebirth!”

  “By the Stars!” SonBa gasped.

  “Their leaders were brought here to finalize a truce, my Prince,” Dungias continued. “The meeting was a trap!”

  “Kill!” one BroSohnti cried out.

  “No!” another responded and many of the BroSohnti turned to see who had spoken. When their eyes found a blue-haired, two and a half-tram tall mammoth, those between him and the two Malgovi found other places to be. The look of the BroSohnti was not hard to understand. His swagger and the way he inspected Dungias told the Traveler what was about to transpire.

  “What did they say?” SonBa asked.

  “My apologies, my Prince,” Dungias quickly replied, keeping his eyes on the large creature that was slowly approaching. “It appears that I am about to be challenged.”

  “How formidable is he?”

  “Let me simply say… by his girth and demeanor, I would rather it were you fighting him,” Dungias replied and SonBa chuckled briefly. “But no other action should be taken at this moment,” Dungias said aloud.

  “I know this one!” another voice called out, coming from the ceiling entrance. Though still on the wall, he jumped down to the ground quite easily and walked toward the center of the room. He looked like so many of the others but he had black on his head, and a thin line of the same at the sides of his jaw. “I have felt him. His birth was clean!”

  “He said I had a clean birth. A clean birth?! By the Stars!” Dungias gasped.

  “You are not making this easy!” SonBa snapped.

  “My Prince, think of it,” Dungias quickly replied, keeping his voice low. “For each Vinthur or Malgovi born with a direct link to their powers, it came at a cost of a BroSohnti! I am shay-spawn. My birth cost them nothing!

  “I must really have a long conversation with the Stars,” Dungias thought, realizing only a shay-spawn would have the slightest standing of innocence with the BroSohnti. “And drink will be involved!”

  “By the Stars indeed!” SonBa agreed.

  “How have you felt him?” the larger one inquired.

  The bearded one touched the BroSohnti closest to him and she shuddered. She in turn touched the one closest to her in the direction of the BroSohnti who had posed the question. By relay of touch, Dungias could feel iro-form being passed between them; the energy of thought. Eventually one stepped forward and touched the giant of giants and he closed his eyes.

  “They seem to be able to communicate through physical contact,” Dungias advised.

  “Who are you talking to?” the large BroSohnti asked as he made his way to the front of the masses. Blue pupils formed in his eyes and matched the color of his hair. “And we know your tongue better than you know ours,” he added in perfect Liangu. Dungias could see many of their eyes forming pupils. The all-white status must have been something that occurred when they were ready to engage in combat.

  “Indeed you do,” Dungias replied, giving the giant a slight bow of appreciation. “To answer your inquiry: there are many ears about us, my friend. This… meeting is stressed enough without further misunderstanding. Does fuhgori mean truce in your tongue?”

  “It means pact,” he replied. “I am Bralgeer.”

  “I am Dungias… I am–”

  “Osur,” Bralgeer concluded.

  “No, I am not yet one of their kind. I am a Traveler.”

  “You Trek well?” Bralgeer asked and Dungias was again surprised.

  “I trek my inner Star. That course brought me to this place, and it was my Prince who removed the MajiK that made the BroSohnti into the Grenbi. He is SonBa of the House Galvasti.” Dungias could hear the masses of the BroSohnti repeat the House name.

  “Galvastus was the one who created that House,” Dungias continued. “… but his workings were not passed down through his blood. The First Prince knew nothing of your plight. Only a few held that knowledge, and they kept it in shadow.”

  “You use the word shadow and not secret,” Bralgeer stated. “You know of us?”

  “Just as this one had felt me,” Dungias said, gesturing toward the bearded BroSohnti, “I have felt you. Enough to know of you! Enough to know that you are strong… that you are angry… and that you, Bralgeer, are not the leader of the BroSohnti. You are just one of the better fighters. Better even than the leader you follow, and he is wise to send you forward.”

  “And you are one of the better of your people?”

  “No,” Dungias answered quickly, seeing all too clearly where an affirmative answer might have led things. “I am the one the Stars sent. I rule this moment.

  “Is that not correct, my Queen?” Dungias shouted. He heard a click coming from the probe and sighed in relief.

  “It is as he says,” BaKedia’s voice echoed loudly through the chamber. “I am the Queen of the Malgovi and my domain is over the Malgovi and the Vinthur. I am a subject in the army of the Star Chaser! He commands me and I follow his word as law!”

  More murmurs came from the group, but only briefly before there was complete silence and deliberate touches. Translators took the Liangu and spoke in Nekorsha. The one they spoke to would then say the word for ‘allow me’ and they would touch another, sending the message through that contact. Dungias’ eyes squinted as he extended his sense into the exchange. It was a sensation that was not foreign to him, and he could feel the delivery of information. Dungias smiled as a simple notion occurred to him.

  “Very unwise,” Bralgeer stated.

  “Only if this is to be a fight,” Dungias quickly countered. “That would be the most unwise decision.”

  “Why?!” Bralgeer barked. “You know what your people have done to us! We were ready to promise peace–”

  “Spare me the insult!” Dungias shouted. “And you,” he said, pointing at the only member of the BroSohnti that had not engaged in the delivery of information. “... why not spare me the idiocy?! You already know who and what I am. Those from Threm can still feel me, which means you can feel me!

  “You will not find fear here!” Dungias proclaimed. “There is nothing to fear. And while you will receive regret, who here is innocent of retribution?! Was it not the BroSohnti who chased my ancestors from their own homeworld?! Was it not the BroSohnti that hounded them across the systems?! And for what?! What is the condition of the planets the BroSohnti have taken, I wonder? You do not know, for you did not take them out of need. You took them because you could! You were duped because we could!”

  “And you will die because I can,” Bralgeer boasted.

  “And before our fight is concluded, the cruisers in orbit of this planet will fire on this mountain and the city below. While my people are spread out over two systems, all that you o
f what remains of the BroSohnti are all HERE! A thousand of us will die, perhaps ten thousand or a few more… ALL of the BroSohnti will die before the fastest among you can even reach the closest hangar.” Dungias chuckled, using Alpha to point at the BroSohnti. “And what good would that do? You’re too big for the fighter craft! That leaves the slower moving, more easily hit shuttles.

  “So come at me, Bralgeer,” he invited the BroSohnti warrior. “Come and let us fight. I am shay-spawn, which means the very reason why your people were traumatized does not even apply to me! But no matter. I am Vin-Mal… and the Queen has my orders.

  “So that leaves this to you, silent one,” Dungias pointed at the lone and now white-haired BroSohnti, whose eyes squinted as they looked upon the Traveler. “Will you continue to wail and moan from a place of betrayal that you created, or will we… our peoples… will we move forward from this?”

  “How?” the white-haired BroSohnti asked, speaking in a very calm and powerful tone. “There is no trust.”

  “There was no trust,” Dungias offered.

  “There is no trust!” he insisted. “You have your way, Traveler, and we have ours. We do not trust what we do not fight! I am Darvuros, and I say we fight!” Dungias turned to face the Prince.

  “Is it always the thick-headed fools that somehow manage to make incredible technological advancements and become Void-trekking raiders?”

  “I have in my mind a scenario that the technology was brought to them by an all too trusting people,” SonBa replied. “From there, they accumulated.”

  “It is too bad my Kwinsoah and I only outlawed the trite clichés that applied to our relationship,” Dungias sighed. “We should have done the same for the Void. Having said that, it is difficult to say that the BroSohnti’s particular approach is foolhardy, given its effectiveness.”

  “It is always finite though, Traveler,” the First Prince argued. “Eventually they push upon something that pushes back. In this case it was the Founders. Something will always come along to challenge your resolve, no matter what that resolve may be. And this is my fight.”

  “No!” Bralgeer shouted. “I will fight the one who calls me thick-headed!”

  “Then fetch a weapon, thick head!” Dungias spat back. “Because I will be using mine… or don’t you understand the concept of wielding something that actually thinks less than you do?” Alpha started to grow heavy in his hand.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Dungias projected to his extension. “Of course I am not referring to you! This is not the time to develop a sense of humor!” Dungias had to fight against the urge to smile that was being pressed upon his mind.

  “Traveler?” SonBa scolded.

  “I would be the worst sort of fool to fight this thing on even ground,” Dungias said softly. “And pardon me for this.” Dungias put his hand to the chest of SonBa’s armour as Bralgeer charged forward. At the last possible moment Alpha was thrust underneath his left arm and into Bralgeer’s chest. The large BroSohnti flew back, Dungias was pushed into SonBa, and the two of them flew nearly three trams before they landed. They rolled to a stop and Dungias chuckled. “Of course, they are a warrior race. Perhaps in angering him, I’ve made things worse for myself. You would think that after the Tohgrunn and the Athun that I might have come to that sooner.”

  “Is that the best you have, Traveler?!” Bralgeer shouted. Dungias turned to look at his opponent who was walking toward him, looking as if he were fresh to the fight.

  “This is… unexpected!” Dungias said, looking around Bralgeer. In his wake were two BroSohnti who were heavily bruised and very slow to move. “Very unique!”

  “He is cheating!” SonBa proclaimed.

  “He is using his weapons,” Darvuros defended. “… just as the Traveler is using his. Soon your Osur-Staff will run out of power, but there are many BroSohnti!” The two who were bruised were taken from the chamber and into the Palace. “When your stick is dead and cold, Bralgeer will be fresh and strong. We will have our trust, Traveler! Our people will go on, if your Queen is a Malgovi of her word. The trust will be built and held, but it will be a trek your Star shall never see!”

  “And I was beginning to think you liked me,” Dungias said, before he shoulder-rolled to his left, just avoiding a diving Bralgeer. “That ploy might have worked, had I not been standing downwind of you! You BroSohnti bathe as often as you read.”

  Bralgeer quickly got up and he was given pole arm. The Savanté must have kept an arsenal near their location. Dungias charged Bralgeer and ran right through him sliding to a stop and tripping the BroSohnti who had brought Bralgeer the weapon. Alpha was hammered into his face and Dungias knew the exact route to the weapons storage.

  “Seeing as how he was just a weapon to you, we will consider that a disarming technique,” Dungias said as he deflected a thrust meant for his chest. “Are you sure you’re a warrior race?” he ribbed just ahead of poking Bralgeer in the eyes. Staggering away from the Traveler, the large BroSohnti had his feet swept out from under him and landed hard against the stone. He was stunned and quite vulnerable, but Dungias did not press his advantage. He stepped back, to the frustration of SonBa. “You will have to do better than that to trap a Traveler, my poor brute.”

  As he moaned, clutching at his eyes, Bralgeer’s arms became his legs and vice versa. He was poised to leap and he did so, streaking toward Dungias who tossed up Alpha and stepped into the charge, hammering the head of Bralgeer down into the stone floor. He caught Alpha as he back-flipped, avoiding two scythe-like arms that tried to cut him in half.

  “They’re shape shifters!” SonBa exclaimed.

  “Well, why not?!” Dungias barked, frustrated at what such an ability meant. He quickly composed himself and returned his focus to the fight, kicking the dropped pole-arm up to his hand as he sheathed Alpha. “It is not as if they have not had a few thousand orbi-terms to figure it out!” he muttered, twirling the weapon to get its feel and weight.

  Becoming a mass of semi-liquid flesh, Bralgeer stood up and smiled at Dungias as his skin formed its own armour. It was a dull matte black color but it looked substantial, and Bralgeer sneered. “So tell me, Traveler… which one of us is really thi–” Dungias moved at a speed Bralgeer was not prepared to receive, and the young Traveler’s jab snapped Bralgeer’s head back.

  “Thick-headed?” Dungias asked as he flexed and shook his hand. “Yes, I would think that we have arrived at undeniable proof that it is you!” Bralgeer wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and glared at Dungias. “Just how long do you think you have before I start to take this seriously and end you?”

  The large BroSohnti man roared his retort and charged Dungias. Armour formed over his head and neck. Dungias could tell by the way the BroSohnti ran that he was expecting his opponent to take to the air again. Dungias moved as if he was going to jump, but dropped to his back at the last moment and put his foot up, throwing Bralgeer over him and into the crowd of BroSohnti. Dungias kicked up to see Bralgeer come walking out from the group. Three white-skinned BroSohnti lay motionless in Bralgeer’s wake. Dungias looked at Darvuros who seemed to be waiting for the Traveler to start showing signs of fatigue.

  “How many of your kind have to suffer for this victory?” he asked the BroSohnti leader as he stepped back, leaning away from the looping wild right punch that just missed his jaw. Dungias turned his shoulder to Bralgeer and swung. Bralgeer screamed as his left hook had moved too slowly and his arm was removed from his body. Dungias continued his pattern and cut across the front of the large BroSohnti’s thighs and then slashed the stomach. Keeping his form, Dungias spun around with the weapon and dropped to his knee, swinging down and removing Bralgeer’s head. It dropped to the ground just before the body and rolled away from Dungias.

  “Yes!” SonBa screamed, jumping up in triumph before he saw a score of the BroSohnti rush into the fighting area. Dungias moved back from the crowd and watched as three of their number turned white and died almost immediately. Ten
drils shot out from the bottom of Bralgeer’s head and attached back to his body. “Foul! SonBa cried. “Dungias won the fight!”

  “I still see two combatants,” Darvuros replied, rubbing his chin. Sure enough, Bralgeer emerged from the crowd, whole and somewhat larger than when he was beheaded. “The fight continues!”

  “So, the problem then,” Dungias thought as he twirled the pole arm. “… is Darvuros’ vision!

  “Yes, the fight continues,” Dungias said. “… though it seems to change to suit your needs, Darvuros.” Bralgeer sneered as he made a very slow approach. “And you appear to have finally taken to your training, Bralgeer. Very good of you!

  “But I believe I was in the midst of making a point,” Dungias reminded himself. “Oh yes, by the words you spoke, Darvuros, and the substantiating demonstration of how the BroSohnti have changed over the orbi-terms… every BroSohnti is a potential weapon against me in this challenge… including you!” Darvuros was not a thing of diplomacy. He had not been trained in the social graces. For him, maintaining good community relations meant making sure the weapons were sharp. So he had no idea how to mask his emotions – namely, the fear of hearing Dungias’ resolve and what it would entail.

  “I think it is time to disarm the situation!” Dungias bolted into a run toward Darvuros and Bralgeer moved to cut him off. As they approached the perimeter of the watching BroSohnti, it was clear that the Traveler did not have the foot speed necessary to make his threat worth fearing. Bralgeer squared his shoulders and set himself to tackle Dungias but stumbled through him and into the BroSohnti. Dungias faded as he jumped up and over the first line of the BroSohnti. The eyes of Darvuros could not believe what they had just seen and he looked around, searching for some sign of Dungias. Even invisible, a man jumping up from the ground had to land somewhere! But he could not see any heads or shoulders dropping.