Spaced along the eaves of every structure were flower-like clusters of colored lights, their various hues filling the streets with a warm glow. The elevated streetlamps were dimmed to accommodate the intended visual impression. From any nearby peak, the town looked like a welcoming fire among the endless dark looming for miles around. On most vertical supports as well as the fluted poles of street lamps, ribbons were tied into knots somewhat resembling snowflakes. The silhouettes of local wildlife had been painted in alleyways and on the upper floors of various structures. In the center of town stood a Light Tree twelve meters high. Its various shelves slowly changed elevation to allow them to be viewed by pedestrians at different times of day, each bearing a general theme like ’Family’ or a more specific importance such as the homecoming of several local Marines from deployment along the T’hròstag border.
The topper of the town tree this year was a large sculpture of a smiling explorer, her snow-torch held aloft on one gauntlet and an auto-pick clenched in her fist. The blizzards of that year had been particularly harsh, but Rroth’Bia’s Retreat nonetheless managed some planned expansions as well as a historic number of wildlife population and behavioral studies. This triumph in the face of nature had stirred the town’s frontier spirit.
After about four minutes of walking from the pad, the mayor led Dread Naught up a twisting path to a collection of buildings standing on the edge of the emerald cliff in groups. Dread Naught was staying in a trio of cabins. The center cabin was larger and possessed not only a bedroom, but a large hearth and a kitchen. The others consisted of only bedrooms and small fireplaces. A fenced area beyond the cabins allowed a perfect vantage point from which to look at the emerald cliffs below. The ethereal glow generated by the spotlights outlined the edge of the cliff in bright greens.
Dread Naught approached the main cabin with their meager belongings in tow. Food and bedding were already provided so Dread Naught needed little other than clothing. The mayor swung open the wooden front door, its hinge built to squeak every time it was operated. A broad chandelier equipped with an array of smokeless candles ignited itself as they entered. The walls of the cabin appeared to be made of logs, and the floor was built of heated stone tile. A large hearth of similar operation to that in Nicadzim’s room at Raven’s Landing dominated one wall, and a luxurious fur rug—created to look like the pelt of one of the larger local predators—was stretched out before it. Once the team filed in, Bryluen signed her thanks to the mayor. Mayor Boddu returned the gesture, and they wished one another a peaceful Brightstar before the retinue walked off into the night. The rest of the team was gazing around the cabin as Bryluen closed the door behind them. Instantly, the sound of the outside wind ceased—despite its appearance the rustic cabin bore modern insulation, sound proofing, and safety measures.
Bryluen spoke to the assembled group. “Okay, this is the main cabin. Light Tree is going next to the hearth there. Bel’Wa and I will sleep in here, because none of you are going to say otherwise. There are two beds in each of the others, so let’s figure out who’s going where real quick.”
Bel’Wa pointed to Kirby. “You and Runner, Nico and Vort. Already standing together, easy.”
Bryluen smirked at Bel’Wa, then shrugged. “Any problems with that?”
Soon after, each member of Dread Naught placed their belongings in their respective cabin rooms, and returned to the main lodge to finalize plans for Brightstar.
Bryluen again addressed the group. “Alright, folks, you’ve all got guides to town and can go do whatever it is your heart desires. But before that, we need to draw a Quester and get this tree up!”
The Operative pointed to a bag she brought with her, containing a kit for assembling a silver six-shelved Light Tree. Runner shook his head. “Oh, g-god no, I’m not gonna be the Quester. D-don’t want the press-sure.”
Kirby patted him on the back, her reddened nose peeking out above her scarf. “Aw, come on, hon, it’d be easy. Just glue together a shitload of bullet casings!”
Bel’Wa huffed a breath and stepped forward. “I’ll do it! I’m being adventurous, no one stop me!” She paused and looked down at Vort. “Unless you wanna do it, because you’re my favorite.
Vort’s feathers and the visible portions of his skin blanched to a pale orange tone. “Oh! That’s nice! But you do seem more familiar with this than I.”
“Only barely, but I figure I’ll manage,” the Storm Mother said cheerily.
“Bel’Wa seems to be the big decision-maker tonight. Okay, somebody—” Bryluen turned about as she realized she didn’t see Nico. He was in the corner behind her, setting up the base for the Light Tree. His instantaneous absence made it clear he had not walked there.
“Ah,” he uttered, as if mildly surprised to be where we was. “It seemed I am eager.”
“Points for holiday spirit, Nico.”
Within twelve minutes the team erected their Tree. The edge of each shelf bore images of a certain team member taken during their tenure in Dread Naught, as well as their name in delicate gold-leaf script. The entire structure was carefully weighted and balanced so the central pole could be spun on its axis, rotating each shelf in formation. Even loaded down with gifts, the Light Tree would hold strong and remain mobile. At the top of the pole was an empty mount for a topper ornament, an appropriate example of which Bel’Wa declared she would locate. Bryluen had ordered the custom tree a week prior, dipping into her personal funds to acquire it despite a lack of certainty that an emergency wouldn’t keep them from being able to use it.
Bel’Wa and Vort fell to discussing possibilities for the tree topper, reasoning two brains would be better than one. They carefully considered the task of finding an item that would best encompass the past year for all of them—meaning it would have to be relevant to the recent Dread Naught initiative itself. In addition, each member of the team was going to buy gifts for each other member of the team. For this purpose Bryluen had already laid out an itinerary to send out Dread Naught in pairs that would help each get gifts for the others, as well as ensuring no groups ran into one another accidentally. Bel’Wa questioned the need for the holiday’s secrecy at all, while Vort found it exciting and intriguing that such a social holiday involved deceit to begin with.
Before the members of the team headed off to bed, Bel’Wa raised her voice slightly. “Everyone? Bryl and I need one of you to help us be adorable. Which one of you is best at taking pictures?”
Runner reflexively raised his hand, glancing at it as if it had betrayed him. Kirby momentarily gave him a confused look. “W-w-what? I take pictures upside-down and flyin-ng!”
Bel’Wa and Bryluen led Runner out of the cabin and up to the cliff face. They each inspected the fence, looking for a particular wooden slat. Bryluen found their target—a small divot—and waved Bel’Wa over. The wives assumed a particular position: Bryluen set her hood slightly to one side, leaned her hip against the fence and put one hand in her pocket with the other reaching outward along the fence to stabilize her. Bel’Wa crossed her hands in front of her and leaned against Bryluen. They both smiled, Bryl’s eyes purposefully narrowed as if warding off the wind, and Bel’Wa’s wide and excited. Both of them were contrasted against the powerful green glow of the emerald wall below them.
Runner took the picture with Bryluen’s omnipresent tab. He nodded, at which point the wives walked over to check the image. Bryluen swiped the new photo aside to reveal one some years older. The two of them were dressed and posed precisely the same, at the same point on the same fence in the same lighting. Bryluen’s face bore fewer lines than it did now, while Bel’Wa looked fairly identical to human eyes. Each of them were younger but carried the same fire, intensity, and visible fondness for one another as they did now.
Bryluen and Bel’Wa looked at one another, as Runner grinned at the recreation of the old picture.
Bryluen took a breath and held Bel’Wa’s gaze. “With all that’s looming, we decided now would be a good time to recre
ate a scene from our very first date. It was secretive, quiet, and memorable to the second. They held a movie night where they projected ancient human films onto the clouds.” Bryluen trailed off, then looked at Runner. “Thank you.”
23. Beacons and Brightstar
The Ranger squad sat among the thick tree branches, their predatory eyes scanning for contacts. Their copper-painted camouflage armor bore less of the design eccentricities of most Marine armor. Ranger armor instead featured extraneous supply compartments and enhanced communications gear, visible as a heightened helmet crest much like a Mohawk. Each was armed with blocky sharpshooter rifles and a host of survival gear. They had prowled through the jungles of Gru’Thiall for several weeks now, exchanging the occasional words over internal comms but otherwise co-existing in eery silence.
Astral Marine Rangers were some of the most accurate shooters and psychologically-enduring soldiers in Human space. Almost always without close family ties, Rangers could disappear into an uncharted wilderness for months at a time on exploratory or reconnaissance missions only to materialize from the shadows the moment they were needed. This particular Ranger squad was eight strong and had been slowly sweeping the sensor dead zone, requiring a great deal of mountaineering.
Gru’Thiall’s copper-colored trees became gradually taller with elevation, the trees topping the mountain peaks themselves coming in at well over ninety meters. The existence of such flora made the Ranger’s cliff-climbing substantially easier, and their suits maintained air oxygenation as they ascended in order to keep them from being slowed down. All of their searching had, as of yet, revealed nothing. Nonetheless, The Dreaded continued their attempts to reach some unknown point in the mountains.
A large non-uniform expanse on the order of two hundred square kilometers had been identified to cause malfunctions in scanner and camera equipment, preventing further drone scouting. The Sentinels theorized this same phenomenon could affect orbital surveillance in some fashion that prevented them from remotely identifying The Dreaded's goal on the planet. The Astral Marine Rangers on Gru’Thiall had thus resolved to do things the old fashioned way.
The squad leader was Captain Wongsawat, a Ranger veteran who gazed through his matte visor with dark, intense eyes. Their scanning equipment had gone dark ten days ago, and orbital communications had weakened considerably since then. The last transmissions they received regarded successful skirmishes against the Dreaded, mentioning a few Qixing Lancers being brought down by “something new.”
Wongsawat lead his squad across branches many meters in the air, the thick tree limbs easily supporting their weight. Each Ranger had the balance and grace of a ballerina, their motions careful, controlled, and always leaving them an opening to snap into a combat posture should they come under attack.
At length, they came to a particularly steep cliff face which they were forced to climb. Each Ranger deployed gauntlet-mounted climbing hooks to assist them, allowing the unit to rush up the forty meter rock wall quickly and easily with no need for a grapple. In a pinch such climbing hooks had their applications against hostile megafauna or even light vehicles if needed, each being strong enough to suspend the weight of three armored soldiers. At the top of the cliff they found themselves on a plateau sprawling in thick undergrowth and yet more dense groves of towering trees. One of the rangers waved Captain Wongsawat over to her, pointing to something in the distance.
The Captain’s brow furrowed, then his face gave way to a vacant expression. “... We need to report this now. No approach, treat this as First Contact. We set up camp, pop an E-Trans out to command, and watch for activity.”
◆◆◆
Runner, Kirby, and Vort had gone skiing upon the soft slopes outside of Rroth’Bia’s Retreat. Bundled up in the thickest clothing they could find, Runner set about teaching Kirby the best techniques to enjoy a controlled descent. Vort had actually skied before, albeit with equipment vastly more familiar to him. He was adamant that a set of ten skis made maintaining balance much easier than the comparatively risky binary state of having to rely on a measly two feet. In addition, rather than using poles, Vort simply had the ends of his wings wrapped in fabric and used them to steer himself downward. Kirby was delighted by the entire series of events, revealing she had a slight fear of heights that she found mildly insulting to her dignity. Regardless, she overcame this and took to skiing quickly—after all, skiing required much less hand-eye coordination and focus than piloting the Marduk.
Meanwhile the other members of Dread Naught had departed into the center of town in pairs, as dictated by Bryluen’s gift shopping schedule.
The stores in Rroth’Bia’s Retreat were fairly comprehensive, stacked two or three stores high among the innermost buildings in town. Numerous varieties of specialized clothing stores, artisanal food shops, furniture stores, electronics centers, and more competed for space and attention. Wooden facades dripped in clusters of lights, and ornate decorative elements drew shoppers to the front windows in the manner of the mundane stores of long ago.
No escort drones or chauffeurs were present, but rather Nicadzim and Bryluen were currently wandering of their own accord and had to discover what was available all on their own. They engaged in a series of furtive discussions regarding appropriate gifts for each teammate. Kirby and Runner then Vort and Bel’Wa were scheduled over the next hours to accomplish their own holiday goals, followed by a second set of pairings to allow the previously paired teammates to shop for one another.
Bryluen was always a organized person, and shopping for gifts was not a time for exceptions. She had determined categories of items and specific gifts that would best suit each teammate, though she kept her intent in regard to Bel’Wa’s gifts to herself. She coordinated her gift planning in accordance with the layout of shops in town, concocting an optimal path with which to do so.
Upon seeing the map she constructed, Nicadzim simply nodded and went along. His own spatial eccentricities made taking an efficient course less relevant, but by the end of the allotted time-block Bryluen and Nicadzim had acquired a pile of gifts and headed back to the main cabin to place them on the Light Tree.
Each gift had been wrapped at the store in a plethora of colorful paper, and decorated with knotted ribbon in designs similar to that of the street lamps around town. This left their contents a mystery until the morning of Brightstar, at which time the recipient would unwrap them and show them to those assembled at the Light Tree. The practice was centuries old, and such an ingrained exercise that the silent conformity most humans followed on Brightstar was slightly eerie to other species.
As the pairs of people did their shopping and placed their packages on the Light Tree, the structure transformed from a spindly frame to a vibrant shape that dominated the room. Bel’Wa lastly presented the topper she located: a powerful light capable of illuminating the entire cabin, embraced by an adjustable cowl. The cowl bore a delicate design made apparent when it was drawn over the diode—a detailed star field that swept down the cowl in a spiral like a galactic arm. She reasoned it was a simple but effective representation of Dread Naught as a light against darkness. After admiring their work, Bryluen summoned the team to a nearby restaurant for dinner the evening before Brightstar day itself. In any busier town, they would have been subject to a great deal of attention.
Dread Naught had partaken in few actions thus far, but each had quite an impact. A small cottage industry of news stories about them had already sprung up. Runner avoided nearly all forms of social media for various reasons—this was fortunate, for he would have little peace otherwise.
Bryluen was more than used to the attention, and the entirety of one of Humanity’s most powerful organizations filtered and controlled media contact for her. Still, she was almost always stopped on the street when unarmored for thanks, signatures, or photographs. When clad in her bronze plate, the reaction was the exact opposite—no one would be stupid enough to stand between an armed Operative and anything whatsoever they may be
intent upon.
CSOE Operatives had an excellent reputation for keeping Humankind safe, but seeing an Operative openly on mission in your vicinity was an almost certain sign something terrible was occurring. In addition, Human stellar law openly permitted an Operative to use deadly force in the event of intentional obstruction in a time-sensitive situation. This law had gained overdue notoriety, granting the unintended effect of having most any crowd part at Bryluen’s approach whether or not she was expressing urgency.
The others were becoming celebrities based on video and stills taken by news drones of the battle on Pisistratus, as well as publicly released images from the Qual-Ex warehouse. Fan mail poured in at a volume that required the CSOE to draw on a special team to vet what should be forwarded to those involved. This process still involved a healthy amount of humor from the mail team, resulting in Runner, Kirby, and Nicadzim receiving various forms of particularly over-the-top love letters. Vort had been forwarded a series of drawings of him by school children from Pisistratus. He now had them displayed in his quarters, the crude renditions of his body shape sloppily filled in with any color the children could find. He was so touched when he first saw them that he had reacted to the images with a sound like wind howling through a punctured timpani, a reaction Bryluen understood to roughly equate to crying in Humans or Qixing.
After a thoroughly enjoyable dinner and a few drinks, Dread Naught wandered back to their cabins to rest in preparation for Brightstar morning. Bryluen and Bel’Wa were thus left in the main cabin staring into the fire, cuddled close together on the thick rug. The wives’ combined silhouettes stretched out behind them as a singular form. Bel’Wa’s outline was rounded and brief, and she leaned against Bryluen. Bryluen’s shape was longer, gently swept into softness like a wind-worn rock as she held one of her arms around Bel’Wa’s shoulders. The Light Tree loomed over them, its burden of gifts and decoration a weighty summation of the relatively short time Dread Naught spent together.
The Shadow Among The Stars Page 26
