Spacer Clans Adventure 3: Naero's Fury

by Mason Elliott

  All they needed were Ejjai.

  Thank goodness there were impassable barriers between them and the near humans.

  Naero gasped suddenly and could not even breathe.

  It was as if an icy blade suddenly penetrated her heart.

  A bizarre Cosmic energy wave suddenly passed through her without warning. She nearly toppled over. Then she gasped and fell back into her Captain’s chair.

  Even Om, the Kexxian AI trapped in her head was suddenly disrupted for the flash of an instant.

  Jan collapsed beside Naero’s command chair where he had been standing and shook with convulsions before he blacked out.

  An immediate call came from Baeven. “Naero, did you just experience that strange energy surge?”

  Naero shouted over the link, her eyes still spinning. “I sure did. What the hell was that?”

  “Naero, I’ve only experienced something like that once before, long ago, back on Janosha. And if it’s what I think it is, perhaps you should turn tail and run–right now.”

  “You know I can’t do that, Baeven. I’ve already given my word. Why would you even suggest something like that?”

  Jan came to and struggled to regain his feet.

  “Because,” Baeven said. “I don’t want to see you banished and made an outcast–the same way I was–with a death sentence on your head.”

  “I’ve got news for you, Baeven. If I cut and run now, that’s pretty much what’s going to happen any way. But on the other hand, what in the hell are you talking about?”

  Surina called out from her comstation. “Captain, Intel is hailing us. The High Masters are awaiting your arrival. Somewhat impatiently, I might add. They sound upset.”

  “If they just felt what Baeven and I felt, I bet they are. Tell them we’ll be there shortly, Rina. With respect, of course.”

  “I’ll be the definition of tact, sir.”

  “Naero,’ Baeven said, “let me warn you ahead of time. I’ve got an infinitely bad feeling. If there just happens to be…some kind of amorphous, shifting alien obelisk, statue, or artifact on this planet–don’t go near it. Ever. Don’t even look at it. Stay the burning fuck away from that damn thing–until you and I have had a chance to talk.”

  “Seriously, Baeven? The High Masters are going to decide my fate within the hour, and you’re worried about some artifact? We don’t even know if there’s anything like that down–”

  Shalaen burst onto the bridge, along with Gaviok the mantid, from Baeven’s crew.

  “Did you feel that Cosmic power flare, Naero?” Shalaen said. “There is a very unusual, Cosmic power source on the surface of this world, right where we are heading.”

  Even Om joined in. Naero, I can sense it too. Anyone with any ability will be able to sense this thing–whatever it is–and it is both Kexxian and Driathan in nature. Very ancient, and extremely dangerous.

  “Everybody shut the hell up,” Naero shouted. “For right now, the only place that I am going is before the High Masters for them to decide whether they destroy me, or let me live. Once that is finished, I might be able to consider whatever other disastrous choices lie before me.”

  Yet despite her words, Naero could also sense whatever this startling thing was down on the planet. Her sense of warning was going crazy, and yet this new source of Cosmic power sang to her with a sirens’ call that was both incredibly seductive and terrifying, all at once.

  It wasn’t just her Dark Beast that craved to feed upon this vast power–just as it always did with every form of power.

  But every part of her yearned to taste of this new power, and drink deep of its sources.

  It was that alluring.

  Even though Thanor-4 nearly pulsed with all of the Chaos and Cosmic energy that lost Janosha had once swelled with, Naero could definitely see why the Mystics were very interested in this world.

  When they landed on the surface at the relatively new Intel starport, Naero left her flagship with her many friends beside her in support, and her head held high.

  Yet all the while, more-and-more, she felt this new, frightening power tugging at her as if it had a will all its own, stronger than even her own.

  She felt it with every step.

  What in the hell was this…this thing? It defied imagination.

  *

  Naero struggled to focus on what she was there to do. Onworld they stepped into a late spring climate in a southern hemisphere transition zone from temperate to subtropical on the west coast of Nashara. The local sun was shining in an impossibly, clear-blue sky. Naero smelled a sea breeze wafting over the extensive coral reef system they had spotted offshore, on their way down.

  The expanded Mystic camp and settlement appeared to be only a few months old, built next to a much smaller, older camp of pop-up nanohuts and actual tents. This older camp had the looks of having been on Thanor-4 for perhaps a few years. Possibly used by the Mystic explorers and researches, who first discovered the strange world and then flocked there to examine its even stranger Cosmic energy fields–and whatever this other thing was.

  Intel Marines from the 7th Division–the Intel Division that worked closely with them–stood guard almost everywhere around the perimeter. 7th Division Spacer Marines were known both as The Ghost Knives, and The Seven Deaths. Their motto was short and simple: Fury in Battle.

  The camp itself looked to have a wide open circle in the center. As it spread out, each High Master had a separate camp, set at three equally spaced points along the inner circle. The three camps radiated out into their own wide circles and represented all Three Wisdoms of the Spacer Mystic Harmony:

  The Spacer Mystics were big on geometrics.

  Naero spotted all three banners.

  Chaos, beneath a red banner.

  Order, beneath a blue banner.

  Change, beneath a gold banner.

  Jan sighed nervously as they drew closer to the entry point.

  Naero reached out and took his hand.

  “It’s going to be all right, Jan. We’ll find a way to convince them to help us. Both of us.”

  He shuddered and shook his head, rubbing his arms. “I still feel like broken glass all inside, N. Those bastards messed with me and my head so much. I might not ever be the same. But what is this thing on this planet? It’s freaking me out.”

  Naero sighed herself. “Try to ignore it, Jan. I feel it too. Whatever happens to us, we are never the same, Jan. But with effort and hard work, we can choose to change for the better, and become what we want to be. I know your heart, my brother. I know you are strong and brave. This is the blood we come from. I swear to you–we shall both find our way.”

  Two young female adepts strode up to greet them at the entry checkpoint to the camp. The heavily armed Intel Marines stepped to either side. All Mystic adepts wore tight-fitting, gray spacer togs, with a hood and mask worn only for ritual combat and on missions during wartime or for Spacer Intel.

  These young women were twins, only a hand taller than Naero, but still. Long black hair in high Spacer ponytails, almond shaped eyes, amber in hue and bright–light golden skin tones. Hard Spacer bodies, agile and athletic as one might expect among Mystic adepts, from their intense martial training. She could almost sense their skill and power.

  Naero guessed somehow that they fought best as a pair.

  They kept their oval faces impassive but not harsh. Naero actually thought them very pretty, and had a sense that she might like them. What a relief, after the nightmare she had had with Hashiko.

  “Greetings. I am High Adept Chang Fu-han,” the first one on Naero’s right stated calmly–most likely the older of the two.

  “And I am High Adept Chang Lijuan,” the other said, in the same exact voice and tone.

  Chang Fu-han continued. “We have been sent to bring High Adept Naero Amashin Maeris, adept candidate Janner Maeris Ramsey, Shalaen Kinmal of the Yattai, and the visitor known as Gaviok before our Mystic High Masters.”

  “With regret,” Ch
ang Lijuan said. “Only these four may proceed beyond this point and enter within the circles of Mystic Wisdom.”

  Chang Fu-han motioned with a strong slender hand to her right. “Please, the rest of you in this party are welcome to wait for word from your companions within the Spacer Marine mess tent nearby. You will be well-cared for as our honored guests.”

  “If you so desire,” Chang Lijuan added, “you are free to return to your ship, and await word there. It is quite possible, that the deliberation of the High Masters may take up a good portion of this day.”

  Naero turned to her friends, and hugged Zhen, Tarim, Enel, Surina, Eugene, and several more of her crew who closed in around her to wish her well.

  They all knew what was at stake.

  Naero grinned. “Don’t worry. We’ll find a way to work everything out. We’ll send word when we know anything definite.”

  Their people stepped back, watching and waiting for them to go out of sight. Naero smiled and waved one final time.

  She hoped to see her people again.

  She turned to Jan, Shalaen, and Gaviok. “The Mystics have protocols about speaking and being spoken to, which none of you are going to know. I don’t even fully understand them all, myself. So until you three are instructed in such things, it might be best to let me do most of the initial talking. Be polite and only speak to others when you are directly spoken to. Keep in mind that Chaos masters and adepts can be abrupt and even rude; be prepared for that. Most likely, they will ignore us, if we are lucky.”

  Jan and the other two nodded. Gaviok seemed entirely out of his element, but he had also insisted on coming along to speak with the High Masters, and especially the Chaos practitioners.

  Chang Fu-han motioned again with one graceful hand. “Follow, please, honored guests.” She and Chang Lijuan slipped to the port side and then went forward down a path lined with colorful cloth barriers rising up on either side. The twin adepts strode forward side by side with calm ease, leading them on with a careful pace that was neither too fast nor too slow.

  “High Adept Naero,” Chang Lijuan noted, turning her head back on her graceful neck while she kept walking. “It is clear that your people honor you with great love and respect. I was greatly pleased to witness such a clear demonstration of ardent affection and devotion.”

  Naero bowed her eyes slightly. “Thank you, High Adept Lijuan. You honor me and my people.”

  “Not every adept wishes to be your, nemesis, High Adept Naero,” Chang Fu-han added. “Just as all adepts do not desire to be your friend. Yet you served the Clans with great honor and distinction during both the Annexation War, and the High Crusade. For those reasons alone, many adepts personally feel, very strongly, that you should be given a fair chance, despite whatever failings and inherent dangers you bring with you.”

  “Again, my thanks,” Naero told the twins. “I am glad there are at least some with such reasoned views among the Mystics.”

  Naero still felt the definite pull of whatever strange force was present on Thanor-4.

  In fact, whatever this thing was, it was like a pillar of Cosmic Fire shooting out from the planet. No one with any abilities could fail to notice something as glaring and obvious as that. Naero pinpointed it within less than two klicks of the Mystic camp itself, and from what she could tell–

  It is guarded by layers of shields and barriers, and most of a full, armored Marine regiment beyond that.

  Thanks for the update, Om. It doesn’t look like they want anyone getting near that damn thing, whatever it is. And probably with good reason. This thing should scare anyone.

  At the entrance to what appeared to be a large, round, colorful tent, Naero spotted two old acquaintances: Adept Makita Lii and Adept Iselle Donovan. Naero had nearly killed them and Intel Admiral Klyne during her first Mystic testing, which went very wrong as well.

  Naero and they weren’t exactly friends, therefore, and they both paled and grew wide-eyed–in not a little fear–when they spotted her approach.

  “Hold, summoned guests,” High Adept Makita said. “Others are still arriving and taking their places. It may yet be a few minutes longer, until we can bring you all in before the High Masters.”

  “Very well, High Adept,” Chang Lijuan said.

  “What others?” Naero asked quietly.

  Iselle shot her a look. “They will give the word, once the High Masters and their guests are ready.”

  Chang Fu-han raised one eyebrow. “There is no need to be abrupt, High Adept Iselle. No need for…rudeness. None of us present are Chaos adepts.”

  “If I was rude, it was because of her, High Adept Fu-han. She did not address me properly with her question, and you know it.”

  “Forgive me my rudeness, High Adept Iselle.”

  “Neither are we or have we ever been on familiar terms, High Adept Naero Amashin Maeris. You will therefore address me as High Adept Iselle Donovan, if at all, to my liking.”

  Naero held her tongue. She had been in the wrong, and had nearly killed people with her out-of-control abilities. That they could hold a grudge against her could be quite understandable.

  Finally, she chose to voice a general question over the continued silence. “Can anyone present please tell me more about this strange planet, Thanor-4?” she asked.

  It might help pass the awkward silence they were stuck in. She could listen without the burden of having to speak, and she really wanted to know something about this bizarre world.

  Lijuan and Fu-han brightened and took turns immediately, talking quietly. But they spoke informally to Naero and her people, on purpose.

  “My older sister and I were part of the Mystic exploration team that arrived here nearly two years ago. What do you wish to know?”

  “Lijuan and I have been to all five continents, many times. We’ve even been part of the contact teams that deal with the local near-humans. The barbaric tribes from the deep interior are barely sentient and cannot be reasoned with. But in the Bay of Thanarra, there are four main city states of near humans, where all of the four continents join together. They are very backwards and violent–especially the Vaedo.”

  Fu-han projected a holoscreen from her wristcom above them. “The four continents bunched together are: Thanarra, Vaedor, Kallos, and Maedor, each with their own city state and culture. But according to our laws, we do our best not to interfere with them or their ways.”

  “What is this isolated continent called again?” Naero asked.

  “We call it Nashara, after a fabled land the natives speak of in their legends,” Lijuan said. “But the native Thanes don’t even know that it exists, yet–just as they don’t know of the monsters on the eastern half of Maedor in the deep interior. Which makes Nashara perfect for Mystic purposes.”

  “And what purposes are those?” Naero asked.

  High Adept Iselle Donovan jumped in, commenting in general for all to hear.

  “Well, after all, with the untimely destruction and the loss of Janosha,” Iselle said, with stinging emphasis, “the High Masters are considering Thanor-4 as a possible replacement. This world could become the new Mystic Homeworld for the Order of Chaos Wisdom and its adepts.”

  “Oh,” Naero said. “Very well then.” Things grew quiet again.

  Om, you are quite certain that I had nothing to do with the destruction of Janosha?

  Naero, I keep trying to explain to you. Planet Janosha was not in any way destroyed. Whether you had anything to do with its disappearance or not, it simply ceased to exist. The planet was not there any longer. There was no destruction. If there had been, there would have been some trace of it left behind, in the wake of such destruction.

  That still doesn’t make any sense, Om. No planet has ever just vanished before.

  Then it is a mystery that shall remain unsolved for the time being. Ask Shalaen, and Alala, and even Baeven. They will all tell you the same thing. We simply do not know what happened. No one does–and that includes the High Mystics.

&nb
sp; Collective ignorance did not re-assure Naero that she would not be blamed for the planet being gone. She had been out of control at the time, wielding Cosmic powers neither she nor anyone else could fathom or understand. To anyone’s mind, she remained the obvious suspect.

  Jan nudged her, and Naero almost jumped.

  “N…Naero…sib, they want us to go in now.”

  She shook herself.

  High Adept Chang Fu-han kept her slightly golden face and her amber eyes impassive. “Honored guests, the three High Masters of the Spacer Mystics and their guests will speak with you now. Please enter within.”

  The twins parted the entrance curtains for them to pass inside.

  Naero lifted her head again, gave Jan’s hand a squeeze, and strode forward to face her fate with courage.

  3

  The large tent above them had programmable plasteel panels to let sunlight shine down inside, if that was desired. Only a few were pweaked clear. The ground beneath their feet was still covered in a carpet of soft, blue-green grass and aromatic, sandy soil beneath that.

  Three risers and three small, separate sets of stands had been erected directly before them, at the far end of the enclosure.

  Naero wondered why they had not used fixer clouds to construct more permanent structures for the Mystics.

  Perhaps the High Masters had not yet made the final decision to remain on Thanor-4 permanently.

  Naero walked forward slowly, taking a good look ahead of her at the assembly.

  She spotted High Master Vane, seated on her left, with about ten other high level Chaos adepts sitting behind him. But his two prime adepts flanked him on either side as his bodyguards.

  Most prime adepts were selected in male-female pairs, for reasons Naero still did not understand.

  In fact, Naero had rescued both of Vane’s current prime adepts from the torment of the enemy’s vile, Darkforce generators, just as she had Hashiko, Jan, and Shalaen for that matter.

  But Chaos adepts were not known for their tact or gratitude. This pair had only stooped to thank her briefly, over a short comlink. She was probably lucky to have gotten that much from them.