Spacer Clans Adventure 1: Naero's Run

by Mason Elliott

  Naero held her breath for a second, then she shrugged. “So, now you know why the Corps want me so badly.”

  “Indeed,” Nevano said. “But such secrets are of little use to me and my people, unless they can conjure up additional ships and weapons for us, or get us past naval blockades.”

  “Sorry,” Naero said. “My people have yet to decipher them. We can’t even use the data. Do either of you know anything more about it or the Kexx that could help us?”

  Shalaen said, “The Kexx were ancient even when the Yattai were young.”

  “Then you know why my people can’t let their tek secrets fall into Corps hands.” She looked directly at Shalaen. “What else do you know about it?”

  “More than you might think,” Nevano said. “I know what the Kexxian Matrix is, and what is in it. While she was studying you, Shalaen made a record of the full index that is hidden in your half, for those who know how and where to look.”

  He handed her a data crystal. Naero gaped.

  “Of course your half is useless without the other half that your brother carries,” Shalaen said. “But when all of the data is decrypted, this index will help your people decode and utilize the Kexxian Matrix much faster and easier.”

  “Consider it a gift,” Nevano said. “We only ask a few favors in return.”

  “Name them,” Naero said. “I’m sure that my people will be very grateful.”

  “In a very short while, we will be negotiating final terms with Joshua Tech, The Spacer Alliance, and the Matayan Empire for any assistance that any of them can provide for us. We don’t have time to be choosy. We need allies.”

  Naero thought about that for a moment. Should she bring in Ellis?

  “I can’t speak for the Matayans, but you should be able to trust Joshua Tech and my people.”

  “We are not so certain,” Nevano said. “Shalaen has already helped us capture three different Spacer strike groups sent to infiltrate us. They seemed incredibly determined to rescue you.”

  “What?” Naero said.

  Nevano bowed. “I will have them released, and brought to you.”

  Naero didn’t know what to say. Shalaen stayed with her.

  “I believe your aunt is being detained with one of them,” Shalaen said. “We did no permanent harm to any of them. But they made that very difficult, even for myself. What a remarkable splinter race you have become. I commend your people for their resourcefulness. Were it not for my powers, they would have either retrieved or terminated you by now.”

  “What do you mean, ‘terminated’?” Naero said. “They came to rescue me, not to kill me.”

  Shalaen grasped her hand and touched the wristcomp Naero wore.

  “Their primary intent was to rescue, but after the first two teams failed, they grew desperate. They decided to set off your suicide device, once they could not rescue you the third time.”

  “They tried to kill me?”

  “They attempted to, just before I helped capture the third team. Fortunately, I had already reconfigured your failsafe device by that time. Quite obvious, really.”

  They tried to set it off.

  Her own people tried to kill her.

  She should be dead.

  “I-I guess I can understand why they would do that,” Naero said, still shaken. “Haisha…they couldn’t be sure that you weren’t working for the Corps.”

  “Unlikely as that might be,” Nevano added.

  Naero stared at her wristcom. “Does it still work?”

  “Yes, you can still set it to obliterate yourself if you so desire, but we hope that that will not become necessary. It will still sound a warning and then activate if anyone tries to remove it or you are slain.”

  Shalaen handed her another chip. “That has your new activation codes on it. If there is someone you can trust, you may wish to give them the new codes, but we advise against that.”

  “What do you mean? Can you see the future?”

  “In some ways. Through people I see various possibilities.

  “But they explode in prisms around you, to the point where all is left dark and confused. Perhaps that is best. It is not healthy for most entities to know too much about their potential destinies.”

  “What can you tell me?” Naero asked.

  “That you must get the Kexxian Data Matrix to your people, and they must begin to apply it, at all costs. That much is certain. How you do that is not important. It will be disastrous if the Matrix falls into the hands of the Corps and your enemies too soon–”

  “How about not at all.”

  “That is also unwise, and not very likely. Information and knowledge always behave in fluid manners, difficult to contain or monopolize for long. Your people know this. Believe it or not, there may yet come a time, sooner or late, where the Corps and their worlds will become your strongest allies.”

  Naero snorted. “I strongly doubt that.”

  “Do not be so sure,” Shalaen said. She stepped forward and embraced Naero.

  A tremendous sense of calm and well-being came over Naero as they embraced. She put her arms around Shalaen and hugged her close. Like she would a sister if she had one.

  Holding Shalaen was like embracing pure serenity.

  Holding a being made of raw, enigmatic energy without being burned.

  Yet it was Shalaen who gasped.

  Her legs buckled. She nearly collapsed.

  Naero stepped back and held the wispy young girl up.

  “What are you, spacechild?” Shalaen said, her voice a mix of fear and wonder. “You truly frighten me.”

  Naero tried to laugh. “I frighten you?”

  Shalaen nodded, her radiant face and shining eyes fathomless and intently serious. “The powers and knowledge you hold untapped within you should frighten everyone. Especially you.”

  Naero bowed her head. “They do,” she whispered. “I don’t know anything.”

  The deck threatened to fall out from under Naero once more.

  What was she? What was inside of her–the thing from her nightmares?

  What was she going to become? Freak. Monster. Demon?

  Did she have any choice in it all?

  She recalled with terror and a scary hidden hunger how it secretly thrilled her. Leaving parts of her fearful, but other parts still hungry, eagerly craving more.

  Om said it was all her, only a fraction of her latent abilities.

  “I...I...I don’t know what I am,” Naero said. It almost came out like a sob. “Everyone’s afraid of me when they find out. Haisha, I’m afraid of myself, and I still don’t know anything. Can you help me? Can you tell me something?”

  “Shhh...” Shalaen told her.

  Naero clung to her peacefulness and almost broke down.

  Shalaen kissed her on one cheek, then her forehead, and her other cheek.

  With each kiss, Naero relaxed, awash in waves of calm and comfort.

  Perhaps the Yattai were angels, as some legends claimed.

  “Naero, always remember that true power, whatever its nature, is controlled and mastered best through love. And love is little more than the trifold understanding of compassion, justice, and mercy. There is no true freedom without the Harmony of the Three Wisdoms. Remember my words, in your darkest hours.”

  Naero nodded, holding her tighter and shaking.

  “When I am linked with you by touch,” Shalaen said. “I can show you many things as I see and know them. Concentrate on the sound of my voice. Open your heart and mind to me. Close your eyes.”

  Naero did so and soared through the stars in an instant, as if she were a starship herself, sweeping through the galaxies at incredible speed.

  “Few people understand exactly what the Kexxian Data Matrix really is–a legacy of wisdom, knowledge, and technology all in one,” Shalaen said. “Much like The Three Wisdoms, all three of these must be balanced for the Matrix to be of any practical use.”

  Shapes took form in Naero’s mind. Bipedal reptilian crea
tures of average size, with large eyes and dexterous hands. They looked after one another and their young with great care and diligence, expanding their knowledge and wisdom.

  “The Kexx were a very advanced race, ancient even before my mother’s people, the Yattai, began their ascent. What happened to them is still a mystery, though some of the Yattai have guessed. Great explorers and seekers of knowledge, the Kexx reigned for many eons over a vast free Republic. They nurtured many fledgling races and explored far beyond known space. They charted several galaxies and contacted multitudes of others.”

  “That’s...impossible,” Naero said. “The distance between galaxies is way too vast. We’ve barely charted one quarter of our own.”

  “Nevertheless,” Shalaen said, “they achieved these and many other technological wonders. But then, something happened. During the course of their travels, they blundered into a terrible war between two nearly equal advanced races. They had once made limited, preliminary contact with another advanced race called the Drians...”

  Baeven had mentioned them.

  “...and the race of sentient androids they nurtured called the Driathans.”

  “Driathans. I’ve heard of them as well.”

  “Yes, some still exist, even–a sad, forgotten immortal remnant. Mourning the loss of their mentors, the near-human Drians. But Nothing could have prepared them or the Kexx for the conflict with the rapacious G’lothc.”

  Images flashed through Naero’s mind, creatures both beautiful and horrific, terrible beyond imagination.

  Shalaen went on. “By any measure, the G’lothc were a race of intensely aggressive, psyonic and shape-changing beings. Countless other races had been enslaved by the opportunistic G’lothc, sent forth as their minions and shock troops. Terrifying creatures such as the sauroid Dakkur, and the dragon-like Kahn-Dar.

  “The long war raged for eons across multiple galaxies, scarring the universe, in vast waves of battle in this dimension and others. With powers and weapons beyond understanding to most peoples. We see the scars of those battles to this day as The Great Dying, where our universe itself was nearly unmade. Multitudes of cultures and life forms perished.

  “Yet in the final end, after several millennia, the descendants of the Kexx and the Drians pulled together the last of their mighty armadas, and obliterated the once indomitable G’lothc where the great foe made their final stand–on their few remaining systems, their fleets surrounding their last remaining stars and homeworlds.

  “Even their stars were destroyed in those final confrontations.”

  “The Kexx could destroy stars?”

  Shalaen nodded. “For their part, the G’lothc and their minions fought with great ferocity and cunning, to the last ship, to the last being. When it ended, the great enemy lay utterly vanquished and obliterated.

  “Yet in doing so, the intricate cultures of the Drians and the Kexx nearly destroyed themselves as well. Within a handful of millennia after the long war ended, both races vanished mysteriously, without a trace of their passing. It is said among the Yattai that all of Creation still mourns for their loss to this day.”

  “What happened to them all?”

  “Some say that they sought ascention, to higher planes of existence where their agonies and corruptions from the Vast War could be purged and assuaged. Others say that they took their own lives, driving their great ships into singularities and other powerful phenomena in an effort to end their immense shame, regret, and pain.”

  “Why are you telling me all of this?” Naero said. “What does this have to do with me?”

  “I know that my mother and the other Yattai believed that the Kexxian Data Matrix would not appear again by accident. It’s possible that the Matrix even has a will of its own. Perhaps more than one.”

  “It does. I’ve met one of them. One of its guardians, a presence I have named Om.”

  Shalaen stared at her. “Yes, I sense him now. Om. Very curious.”

  Naero still didn’t know what Om was capable of.

  Haisha, she didn’t even know that much about herself.

  And Om was on the verge of tapping into abilities and powers within her that she had yet to explore and master.

  “Do you understand the purpose of the Kexxian Matrix, spacechild? The Kexx left it to the universe as a legacy to the younger races, to assist them against oppression and annihilation by excessively violent and greedy forces. Forces such as the G’lothc.”

  “Sounds like the Corps took some lessons from the latter.”

  “That may not be entirely untrue.”

  “What do you mean?” Naero asked.

  “The G’lothc are no more, but even the Yattai now believe that some of their servants survived, perhaps among the Dakkur or the Kahn-Dar. Once again, vast powers from beyond your regions have grown great, and bide their time impatiently. Separated from the worlds you know only by distances of time and space.

  “But beware. When their ambitious gaze turns this way seeking dominion and conquest, they may threaten both Corps and Spacers alike. And it could all happen much sooner than any of us might think. It may have already begun.”

  Naero’s head ached. All she wanted was to find Jan again and get them both and their halves of the Kexxian Matrix safely in the hands of Spacer Intel. Then she could pursue her own course and get back to living her own life.

  That was all more than enough for now.

  “Well, when that day comes, we’ll talk,” Naero said “But until then, the Gigacorps are our biggest problem. They’re out to absorb as much as they can. But they aren’t going to absorb me and my people, and they aren’t going to get the Matrix.”

  “Good,” Shalaen said, releasing her. “I hope that your people will aid us then, Naero. We are desperate for allies. But first, we all need to survive the turmoil of the next few months.”

  “I’d be happy to survive the next few days. Can you see the future? Can you tell me anything that might help me?”

  Shalaen stepped away, shaking her head. “In truth, I only get impressions of things. Just feelings, flashes of insight. Glimpses, really. When I try to focus on the future, so much remains unclear, so much uncertain. Prophecy is not dangerous in itself, you see. When push comes to shove, it is the interpretation of foresight, visions, and prophecy that prove perilous.”

  Naero pressed her hands to the sides of her head. “Anything would help. I’m just so overwhelmed by all of this.”

  “To you, I say this: Your enemies will be more than what they seem. Look clearly.”

  “I still have problems accepting it all. None of this seems real.”

  “You need, to develop your innate talents,” Shalaen said. “Otherwise you will wither and consume yourself in the flames to come, blasted away before your destinies like so much dust.”

  “Greatttt...How...awesome.”

  “Learn patience. That lack is one of your greatest weaknesses, a flaw of the young you can ill afford. Now, before my father returns, may I ask you a few things?”

  “About what?”

  Shalaen’s face suddenly beamed. Literally. “About your young friend, Tarim.”

  “There’s not much to tell. This is what I know.”

  Shalaen listened intently. It took only a few moments.

  “Thank you,” she said, after Naero finished. “I feel certain somehow that he will be precious to me during my life. Already he would lay down his life for me, but I cannot let him do so. He must journey with you for a time.”

  “I’m not so sure that’s going to be any safer.”

  “I adored him from the moment our eyes met, but if we stay together, I feel certain that I will be his death. If you can, will you look after him for me?”

  “If I can.” What certainty was there for anyone?

  “I know that is foolish of me, but please try. If things get better, I hope to see him again one day. If not, it won’t matter.”

  Nevano rushed back in. “Change of plans. We’re making a run for i
t, sooner that we thought. Triax is planning something big; we don’t know exactly what. You and your people will be released right before we take off.”

  “Let me speak with them. Perhaps we can help.”

  “My guards will take you down to detention. Your crew is already on their way there. Your big friend is there. He’s a quick healer, that one.”

  “Spacer smartblood was a marvel of genetic engineering,” Shalaen noted. “Despite the high costs to your race in the beginning. The Corps have never been able to match it.”

  “Let’s hope they never do,” Naero said. “My people stumbled upon it by terrible accident.” She turned to Nevano and held out her hand. “I suppose this is goodbye, then. Thank you, sir.”

  “I suppose so.” Nevano smiled sadly and took her hand, his grip strong but not painful. “There are not many who would take the hand of such a butcher as myself. When you hear worse of me, do not believe all of it.”

  Now it was Naero’s turn to smile. “I will strongly advise my people and any others to help you and the mining rebels if they can. Consider this an alliance with my Clan, if nothing else. Give Triax hell. And don’t feel bad. Remember, I’m a bloodthirsty Spacer terrorist.”

  She touched Shalaen’s face with her fingertips as she went past, not knowing why, feeling the same surge of peaceful energy flow into her once more. “Goodbye, Shalaen. Thanks. Take care of your father.”

  “I will. Remember my words.”

  “Can do. Luck to us all. You’re up against a lot.”

  “More than you know,” Shalaen said. “For now we must part. Both of our struggles go on. Yet we may meet again one day.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “One more thing. Your parents loved you and your brothers. They made the decisions they made for you all, and for your people. Their last thoughts were of you before they passed. Honor their memory.”

  “I will.” What did she mean “brothers?”

  There was no time to ask. They had already split up.

  On her way to the detention area, Naero thought of her parents again, and wept a little. If Nevano’s guards noticed, they said nothing.

  “Naero!” a familiar voice called out. She wheeled.