by Caleb Selby
Fedrin watched as Onkil undid the latch on the door, his hands trembling as he did. He leaned out into the hallway and exchanged whispers with someone Fedrin could not see or hear. The unnamed visitor finished whatever it was he had come for and left, but not before handing Onkil a neatly folded piece of paper which Onkil seemed to clutch dearly.
“Everything ok?” Fedrin asked as Onkil sat back down.
Onkil tucked the paper into his shirt pocket and shrugged. “Seems someone was poking around in my shuttle earlier today,” he said and then glanced at Fedrin with an odd expression. “See anything strange over there when you landed?”
Fedrin felt flushed but casually shrugged. “Didn’t see anything special.”
Onkil’s countenance turned into a carefree expression. “I see,” he said with a tone that suggested he did not believe Fedrin but wasn’t going to press the issue...yet. He then rose from his chair slightly to pass a large covered dish to Fedrin.
“Eat up,” Onkil said as he lifted the lid on the large decorative dish. “Try some of this. My new chef insists it’s her best recipe!”
Fedrin reached for the dish, not because he was hungry but because he wanted to humor his host. But as he peered into the opened dish he grimaced in horror and jumped to his feet, knocking his chair over as he did. “What is this?” he demanded.
Onkil looked up at Fedrin in surprise and sincere shock. “Whatever do you mean?”
“There’s a man’s head in that dish!” Fedrin yelled as he withdrew his concealed knife and held it up defensively.
Onkil looked down and then chuckled. “Oops,” he said and then smiled as if he were embarrassed. “I do hope it’s nobody you knew?”
Fedrin looked at Onkil with contempt and bewilderment.
“Meat is such a delicacy out here,” Onkil added, looking longingly at the dish. “Do try a piece, Admiral, before you judge me too severely. There is a lovely glaze over the flesh that just makes the whole dish dance in your mouth! You’ve truly never tasted anything better! Even the Crown in Larep can’t put out entrées like this!”
“You’re sick!” Fedrin yelled. “You’re sick in the head!”
Onkil shrugged, still looking at the head in the dish as a smile crept over his face. “He tried to break into my shuttle the other day. I can’t very well let something like that go unpunished now, can I?”
Fedrin recalled the acting officer of the Idok telling him how Commander Etana had taken a small team with her to try and retrieve the data device on her own but hadn’t been heard from since. The dead man gruesomely slaughtered and prepared before him had undoubtedly been one of her accompanying officers.
“Where is she?” Fedrin said calmly but firmly, looking into the cold eyes of the governor.
Onkil looked up, seemingly perplexed. “I’m sorry, where is who?”
Fedrin shook his head and pointed the knife at Onkil. “Stop messing with me! You have Etana! I want her back!”
Onkil smiled. “I want what you took from my shuttle,” he said in a very civil tone.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Fedrin said.
Onkil laughed, a grotesque gurgling laugh like that of a madman.
“What’s so funny?” Fedrin asked.
Onkil shook his head. “You are, Admiral; you and your misguided defiance. It’s just so funny!”
“I’m not laughing,” stated Fedrin and took a step nearer Onkil, waving the knife in the air. “Give her to me now!”
Onkil stopped laughing and stood erect, his countenance appearing pensive. “Perhaps we can trade, Admiral? Your wife for what you took from my shuttle?”
Fedrin looked on skeptically. “How do I know she is even alive? I want some assurance before I give you anything!”
Without hesitation Onkil pressed a small button beside the darkened glass panel on the wall. The glass became transparent revealing a room on the other side.
Fedrin’s mouth dropped open at the sight before him. It was the same horrid room he had seen in the transmission a few hours earlier. The grey room, the metal chair, his wife clad in rags, everything was the same except this time, two Krohn soldiers stood at each side of Etana at perfect attention. Their wicked tails stood erect behind them and if it wasn’t for their subtle breathing, one would almost think they were fake for their posture was so eerily perfect and unwavering.
“What have you done?” Fedrin asked in disbelief.
“I have saved my colony!” Onkil replied with the utmost gravity in his tone. He turned and faced Etana, who was visibly breathing but too weak to hold her own head up any longer. “My options were to allow them a few concessions such as her and the others, or risk losing it all.”
“But you have lost it all!” Fedrin replied quickly. “You have lost your soul Onkil! What sort of person would do this?”
Onkil shook his head. “I have no soul to lose Fedrin,” he said flatly. “I’m just another animal striving for self preservation! There is no right and wrong in the universe! There is only kill, or be killed! I have chosen to kill.”
Fedrin pondered Onkil’s comments for a moment, marveling how his worldview was so markedly defined by his newfound belief of his origin. He also remembered how Trab had asserted that the belief of one’s origin was the foundation for all things including morality. Never had this thought been more apparent.
“You are a fool,” Fedrin said calmly. “A complete, blind fool.”
“Fool?” Onkil screamed, furry painted over his face as he grabbed the note he had been given and dangled it before Fedrin. “Do you know what this is?” he yelled. “This is a statement of amnesty for me by the Krohn Consortium! I’ve done their bidding for months for this piece of paper! Now who’s the fool?”
Fedrin shook his head. “There is no reason to bargain with them Onkil! We beat them! Their fleet is gone! Let us go! Here, you want the data device I found in your shuttle? Take it!” Fedrin said, sliding the data stick across the table. “Now just let us leave! You don’t need us anymore!”
Onkil looked at the data device and without giving it another thought, picked up his water glass and smashed the device with a loud thud that startled Fedrin. Shards of the device’s encasing shot out from the impact and the circuits within sparked and sputtered in the spilled water until it fizzled out. “Thank you,” Onkil then said, smiling contentedly. “Your failure is complete and my masters will be most pleased,” he said waving his paper once more before securely tucking it back into his pocket. Still smiling, Onkil then leaned in toward an intercom speaker on the wall and pressed a button beneath it. “You can go ahead and eat her now. I’ve gotten what I wanted. When you’re finished with her, you can take Fedrin and eat him too or take him wherever it was you were planning. I’m done with him.”
The Krohns guarding Etana relaxed their rigid stance, lowering their tails and relaxing their arms. They then slowly looked at each other knowingly and then looked back at their wounded prey between them. It’s an awful thing to see a Krohn smile. It doesn’t look natural at all. Their long snout-like faces don’t seem capable of making the expression. So it was with great horror and disgust that Fedrin watched as the two Krohns smiled with a giddy-like enthusiasm over the prospect of making his wife their midday meal. They were just reaching toward her with open mouths and dancing tongues when the glass darkened again.
“I’d rather not watch this,” Onkil said as he removed his finger from the button beside the window. “They make such a mess when they eat, what with the blood and bones everywhere. It has a way of ruining my appetite,” Onkil shuttered as he motioned at the dismembered crewman served upon his own table.
“Onkil!” Fedrin screamed and leaped toward the deranged man, his knife poised for a strike.
Onkil narrowly dodged Fedrin’s lunge and quickly reached for his tunic where his own lydeg was stowed. As he reached for it
, loud screams and roars could be heard from the other side of the darkened glass. Onkil listened for just a moment and then turned to Fedrin and smiled. “She does sound delicious though! Pity they didn’t save her for me!”
Fedrin’s rage became unbridled and for a moment, he lost control of his mind and actions in a sweeping sea of hatred. He leaped at Onkil again and was only inches from thrusting the knife into his chest when the small door to the side burst opened and a Krohn sentry, spotting Onkil’s imminent demise, lunged at Fedrin. The two collided, propelling Fedrin across the room into the glass window, cracking it down the center and leaving Fedrin in a slump at the base of the floor. The Krohn soldier easily bounded over the table and stood poised over Fedrin, eagerly waiting a command.
“Finish him!” Fedrin heard Onkil say as he hobbled beside the Krohn and looked at Fedrin with amused disdain. “But take your time.”
A line of drool spilt over the creature’s mouth and landed on Fedrin’s lap. He lowered his snout and looked at Fedrin as if deciding where to start. He was just about to feast when a surge of energized light came crashing through the crack in the darkened window behind Fedrin, blowing fragments of glass and metal shards into both the Krohn and Onkil’s faces, blinding both instantly.
Onkil, his face full of blood, screamed in agony while the Krohn immediately began to roar and thrash about in fits of pain and furry. So great was the rage of the reptile that his powerful tail smashed everything in range of it. The table, chairs were splintered by the mighty blows it wielded around the small room. Onkil, still reeling from his own horrific wounds, stumbled into the path of the mighty reptile’s appendage, catching a full blow in the chest. The impact crushed his ribcage and killed him instantly. The Krohn then staggered toward the door but stopped short when it reached the threshold. It then slowly crumpled to the floor, dying from a shard of glass that had sunk into its brain.
Fedrin looked at the spectacle before him and hardly knew what to do. Everything had happened so fast.
“Fedrin,” a voice weakly called out from the broken window behind.
Startled to hear his name, Fedrin struggled to his feet and nervously peered into the room, expecting to see the grisly remains of his slain wife. He was relieved beyond words when he saw that she was alive and that the two Krohns meant to kill her were piled on the floor beside her chair. To one side of Etana, Fedrin spotted another prostrate form covered by the remnants of a black shroud, torn pieces of which lay strewn beside him. The form moved slightly.
“Fedrin,” the voice spoke again.
Fedrin retrieved the only chair in the room that had not been smashed by the Krohn’s rampage and set it up against the wall. Using it has a stool, he climbed through the shattered window, being careful to avoid the jagged glass that protruded out irregularly around the frame. Once through, he immediately ran to his wife’s side. Using the knife he still carried, he cut away the cords that bound her. As her restrains came lose, blood that had been restricted by the oppressive bonds began to flow freely out of the many wounds and gashes that covered her body. Her limp form slumped forward and Fedrin took hold of her firmly and held her close. Her breaths were rapid and shallow. She felt cold to the touch. It didn’t take a doctor to realize that she was dying.
“Don’t do this to me!” Fedrin yelled. “Hang in there! We’re going to get you home. Hear me Etana? We’re going home!” he yelled and began to look around the room for something to stop the bleeding from her many wounds.
Tears poured from Fedrin’s eyes as he held her, realizing that she was mere moments from death. “I’m so sorry,” he said brushing her face. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get here in time. I’m sorry for everything!”
“Fedrin,” the same weak sounding voice sounded out again, reminding the grief stricken Admiral once more of the figure beside him.
“Trab?” Fedrin asked.
“It is I,” Trab answered weakly, the figure shifting ever so slightly.
Fedrin turned to one side to face Trab, still clutching Etana in his strong arms. Fedrin then reached out and lifted the heavy fold that covered Trab’s face, and, for the first time, beheld the face of a Sion. Fedrin gasped as the feeling that he was somehow violating something sacred, something he was never meant to see, swept over him.
The face was pure and spotless; and together with his Namuh-like features, was not all that dissimilar to that of a child, yet with the body of an adult. His soft and perfect face resonated with power and untold wisdom that created an unsettling paradox with his youthful appearance. A faint glow clung to his cheeks and the tips of his ears, but it continually faded away moment by moment. A slender blade, covered in the slain Krohn’s blood, lay at his side.
Trab slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Fedrin. His eyes were a deep shade of violet with no pupils and Fedrin felt his own gaze locked in them.
“Bring her to me,” Trab spoke with great difficulty, motioning to Etana.
Fedrin reluctantly broke away from Trab’s gaze and pulled Etana nearer. He then watched as Trab clasped her limp hand and held it firmly. Without warning, a surge of light began to culminate within Trab’s body. It migrated from all corners of his form into his hand and seemingly traveled directly into Etana’s body. The moment the inexplicable transference was complete, Etana’s eyes flashed open and she gasped for air as if she hadn’t breathed in weeks. Seeing Fedrin holding her, she immediately reached for him and began to weep.
The surreal reunion instantly prompted fresh tears to be shed by the Admiral and the two lovers sat there amidst the death and foreboding of that terrible place and cried together.
“I’m...I’m cold,” she managed to say between her tears and relentless shivering. “I’m so cold.”
Fedrin held her tightly and rubbed her back and exposed arms, trying his best to keep her warm.
“I’m sorry,” stammered Etana, her teeth chattering. “I’m so sorry for what I put you through.”
“Shhh,” Fedrin said reassuringly as he continually stroked her. “Everything’s ok now. I got you.”
The two continued to embrace in silence for several minutes. Upon loosening their hold of each other, Fedrin removed his jacket and placed it over Etana’s bare shoulders. She drew the folds of the jacket close and then looked down at the still figure beside her.
“Is that Trab?” she asked.
“It is,” answered Fedrin sadly.
The faint glow that had been in Trab’s cheeks was now all but gone and his bright eyes from moments earlier now seemed dull and faded. Each breath he took was labored and painful. Fedrin placed a hand on Trab and looked once more into his deep eyes. “Thank you,” he said solemnly, well aware that Trab had sacrificed whatever life he had remaining to save Etana.
Trab nodded and a slight smile turned up the corners of his lips.
“I’ll signal for help,” Etana said. “We can arrange a med team.”
“No!” Trab said in a weak voice, startling both Etana and Fedrin. “You both must go. You’re still not safe here.”
Fedrin nodded. “Couldn’t agree more,” he said grabbing at one of Trab’s thin arms protected by the robe.
Trab shook his head. “You must leave me here Fedrin. There isn’t much time.”
“We’re not leaving you,” Etana said firmly as she tried to help her husband.
“I am dying,” Trab calmly said, momentarily slowing Fedrin and Etana’s efforts to lift him.
“All the more reason to get you out of here and up to the fleet where we can help you,” insisted Etana.
Trab pulled his arm away from Etana and then slumped back to the floor. “No medicine can restore me at this point. What is done is done.”
Fedrin and Etana exchanged sorrowful glances and then looked back down at Trab.
“I have given what was left of my power to save your lives,” Trab answered, nodding toward
the dead Krohns and then to Etana. “I have no strength left with which to survive. I have no more strength...and I am glad.”
“You’re glad?” Etana asked curiously. “You want to die?”
Trab reluctantly nodded. “I have roamed this galaxy long enough my fair child. Now I tire,” he said followed by a deep sigh. “I have died to preserve your lives so that you may find the Grimsin Tree and become the next chosen ones...to take our place as the protectors of Yova’s creations. Please honor me by taking this burden from me...from us.”
“We will,” Etana answered emphatically, although she did not know all the details of what Trab spoke of.
“Where is the Grimsin Tree?” Fedrin asked. “Exactly?”
Trab hesitated, knowing he was about to reveal the greatest secret of all time. “The garden can be found...in the Hand of Fire crater…on the moon, your former planet. The Grimsin Tree is in the exact center of the garden.”
“Thank you, Trab,” Fedrin answered sincerely.
“You must act swiftly,” Trab admonished. “The enemy is even now working out where the garden has been hidden. If you fail to reach it first, the Unmentionables will surely exploit it for their own demented purposes.”
“We won’t let it happen,” Fedrin said forcefully. “I promise.”
Trab nodded and slowly moved one of his hands within his robe and returned clutching a small, ornate dagger. The hilt was made of a dark polished wood and embossed with gold. The blade itself rose out of the handle elegantly to form a subtle wedge with dual sharp edges. As Trab held the knife firmly, a gentle rhythmic hum seemed to emanate out from the metal.
“This was crafted by my father,” Trab said thoughtfully, his fading eyes becoming lost in the object’s shinning beauty. “The handle was carved out of a bough of our own Grimsin Tree. The blade was forged out of cooled plasma from our sun’s core and then crafted around a lock of my mother’s ebony hair. There is no other blade like it in all the galaxy Fedrin...none.”
