by S M Briscoe
More of the Toguai were beginning to come out of their dwellings as they approached, word of their arrival having apparently spread quickly. Judging from their constant sniffing and raised snouts, Jarred guessed the creatures probably had a very keen sense of smell and most likely picked up on their scents long before they had entered the village. Though they seemed wary of their arrival, the aggression Jarred had at first seen and experienced was now gone, replaced by what he took to be a sort of cautious interest.
Jarred considered Orna’s words, the ones he had somehow heard in his head along with the rest of the group and the Toguai, apparently. It was another mystery added to the pile of growing questions he would have to ask her about. Apart from the strange, telepathic delivery of her words, their intended meaning had him even more curious. Crucial time? One who is worthy of that which you protect? What did it mean? Clearly they were in some rather immediate danger, having just barely escaped another Sect ambush, but what did that have to do with this race of apparent primitives? What could these creatures possibly be protecting and what, if anything, did it have to do with them? It was obvious that Orna had her own agenda, though he hadn’t a clue what it was or how it involved him. He only knew, somehow instinctively, that it did.
They were being led towards the center of the village, a growing number of Toguai approaching from the dwellings. He had not yet heard one of the creatures speak any kind of audible language, to either anyone in his group or to one another, apart from the occasional grunt. Seeming a bit more like animals than sentient beings, their evolution may not yet have advanced to the point where their vocal cords had developed to allow for speech.
Some of the creatures had remained behind in the rock burrows and Jarred spotted a few small, curious faces poking out alongside them. Children. Looking over the group gathering around them, he began to see the various age defining differences in the creatures; size, skin tone and age lines, posture. He quickly noted the handful of mature, elder Toguai approaching, watching them with the knowing, weathered eyes that all old timers seemed to have. Their gray skin was darkened in areas, much like age spots in humans, their posture more hunched than the younger observers, though they looked no less powerful for it.
“Is anyone else starting to feel like the main course at a buffet?” Kern asked, quietly, over Jarred’s shoulder.
“I’m just waiting for the skewers to come out,” Sierra answered, her hand resting on her sidearm, as it had been since leaving their landing site.
“I don’t know about any of you,” Kern continued, “but I would rather not wait around for them to start ringing the dinner bell.”
“Calm down,” Jarred interrupted. “I don’t think we have anything to worry about here.”
Sierra turned to give him a curious look. “What makes you so confident?”
In truth, he wasn’t all that confident, but the creatures had halted their attack after Orna had spoken to them and they now seemed to be subdued enough. His instincts had served him well over the years and right now they were telling him he didn’t have to worry about the Toguai. It wasn’t much to go on, but it was all he had at the moment.
“Well, for starters, “ he began, “they didn’t take our weapons.”
“Nobody’s accusing them of being intelligent,” Kern said, sarcastically. “Just hungry. They did attack us, remember?”
“They were defending themselves,” Jarred argued. “We barged into their territory. To them, we were the aggressors. They had the jump on us back at the ship and could have finished us off there if they’d wanted to.”
Kern snorted, indignantly. “Speak for yourself. I had the situation well in hand.”
“Oh really?” Sierra responded. “No one would have ever guessed it from all your girlish screaming.”
“Why do you always have to belittle me?” Kern complained.
Jarred shook his head, stifling a laugh. “I just don’t feel that they’re a threat.”
“Neither do I.”
Jarred, Sierra and Kern collectively glanced back at Elora, who hadn’t uttered a word since the Toguai’s initial assault. She hadn’t really spoken at all since their escape from the roof of the hover tram, when they had been forced to leave her brother behind. There had been no other options at the time, though that fact had done little to lessen the guilt and frustration Jarred felt himself. He couldn’t imagine what Elora would be going through, though from her reclusive behavior, he guessed she was still in a state of shock. He could tell from the looks of both Kern and Sierra, they had assumed as much also. Her sudden entry into the conversation was a positive sign that she was coming out of it. He gave her a reassuring grin and nodded in appreciation.
“Well, I’m glad you’re both on the same page,” Kern said, after a moment. “But, I’m not convinced.”
“Orna trusts them,” Elora stated, simply. “She led us here. Maybe we should trust her.”
This seemed to catch Kern and Sierra’s attention and Jarred joined them in glancing over to where Orna had been quietly pacing the group, no doubt absorbing the entirety of their quiet conversation. It was true she had led them here and had some kind of familiarity with these Toguai. Though he wasn’t yet prepared to put his trust in her, he also didn’t believe she meant them any malice, which hopefully meant the Toguai didn’t either.
They were finally brought to a halt by their guides in an open spot at the base of the cliff wall in front of the waiting group of elder Toguai. Completely surrounded on all sides by the primitive and dangerous looking tribe of gray beings, they stood in silence. Jarred could almost feel the tension coming from Kern and Sierra, and noticed the latter’s hand grip the handle of the holstered sidearm strapped to her hip. He eased his hand over to rest on top of hers, her eyes darting up to meet his. Seeming surprised by the contact at first, she froze in place, a moment passing before she appeared to understand his intent and moved her hand away from the weapon.
He was unsure if the Toguai would even register the weapon as a threat, but thought it best not to take any chances. As good of a shot Sierra might actually be, it was more than unlikely that she and Kern would be able to take out an onslaught of the agile creatures. The efficient manner in which they had surrounded and taken them by complete surprise at the landing site was proof of their predatory ability. More than that though, Jarred truly did not sense any hostile intent from the creatures. It was unnerving, but they somehow felt as strangely familiar to him as these mountains did. Whatever the feeling was, it seemed to be telling him that they did not need to fear them . . . and something more. Something he couldn’t quite place. The way that they watched him. It was as if . . .
Feeling another set of familiar eyes on him, Jarred glanced over to where Orna stood between their group and the Toguai elders, her expressionless eyes locked on his. Was she actually reading his thoughts? After her bizarre performance at the landing site, he wouldn’t have doubted it. There was obviously much more to the strange being than her frail appearance would suggest. He suspected he had hardly brushed the surface of the mystery that was Orna.
She blinked then, causing a sudden chill to run up his spine, a subtle gesture that only bolstered his suspicions about her telepathic abilities. She broke eye contact with him and let her gaze pass over the rest of the group.
“The Toguai,” she began, “have allowed us into their territory so that I may meet with their elders to discuss whether or not they will give us their aid.”
“When exactly did they tell her that?” Kern asked, quietly, out one side of his mouth.
“Stow it, Kern,” Sierra replied, just as quietly, though her voice carried no less of its usual authority for it.
“You must all remain here,” Orna continued. “The elders have given their word you will not be harmed. But please, do not wander. The Toguai are a protective people. Though they have allowed us into their village, until they understand our true intent, such acts would be seen as . . . hostile.”
&nb
sp; Jarred caught both Sierra and Kern’s weary looks.
“Well, that’s comforting,” Kern commented under his breath. “Nobody moves, nobody gets eaten.”
As Orna was led away by the elders, disappearing into one of the ground level dwellings, the remaining younger Toguai began to disperse, not leaving himself and the others alone entirely, but falling back to a greater distance where they could still keep an eye on them.
After a moment, Jarred decided to take a seat on a nearby tree stump, the others eventually following suit, finding spots where they would all be nearby. No one spoke for some time. Jarred wasn’t surprised when it turned out to be Kern who finally broke the silence.
“This isn’t so bad,” he said. “It kind of feels like we’re camping.”
Sierra just shook her head at him.
“It is getting cold out here though,” he continued, not noticing. “Maybe we should start a fire or something.”
“Just a guess,” Sierra replied, “but setting a fire in the middle of their village might be one of the things they would consider to be hostile.”
Kern slumped a bit, blowing into his hands as he rubbed them together. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. They’ve probably never even seen fire before.”
Jarred joined Serra in shaking her head at Kern this time. He knew that the man’s quips were his way of dealing with his own stress and an attempt at dampening the tension for everyone. In a way, it actually worked, though it didn’t keep them all from growing collectively silent. Though all of their minds would be racing from the day’s events and their uncertain futures, nobody seemed willing to vocalize those thoughts in conversation. They didn’t need to. Each of them knew what the others were thinking about. Their lives were hanging precariously over the edge of a cliff and it felt as though, at any moment, the ground would give out from beneath them. Voicing those anxieties would only serve to intensify them. So none of them spoke.
Jarred was actually taken by surprise when it was Elora who finally broke the silence.
“What do you think they’re talking about in there?” she asked, with a shiver, wrapping her arms around herself in an apparent effort to stay warm.
Jarred removed his overcoat and leaned over to drape it around her shoulders.
“I don’t know,” he answered her, honestly, quite interested in knowing for himself.
“From what we’ve seen,” Sierra commented, “I don’t know that the Toguai are capable of talking at all.”
“Not that they would need to,” Kern added. “With Orna’s . . . voice in the head thing.” He made a waving gesture around his head with his hand as he described the incident they had all experienced.
“Did you know she could do that?” he asked Sierra.
She shook her head.
“No wonder Jessup placed so much importance on brining her in,” he continued. “If she can do that, who knows what else-”
“Kern!” Sierra said, sharply, cutting him off with a stern glare. “Enough.”
Jarred sat back on his stump, catching Sierra’s eye for a moment before she turned her attention back to observing their equally watchful hosts. Before, he had been quite content to let them have their secrets. He really wasn’t interested in their faction or its cause. Such groups came and went like the tide. What was beginning to annoy him was that he had aided them both in getting Orna out of harm’s way, taking a plasma blast to the chest for his trouble, and Sierra still treated him as though he was just some other untrustworthy gutter parasite. In a way, he admired her hardheadedness, but it still left him a gutter parasite.
* * *
A long, tedious hour had passed before Orna finally emerged from the cave dwelling she had entered with the village elders. The Toguai immediately began to come out of their own dwellings to watch the group of elders with interest as they and Orna approached Jarred and the others. By the time Orna had reached them, it appeared as though every Toguai in the village had gathered in a mass, forming up all around them.
“The elders,” Orna began finally, once everyone had settled, “have decided that they will lend us their aid. They welcome us into their village and offer their protection for as long as we should require it. As well, they will see to the repairs for your damaged vessel.”
The Toguai became excited by this, snorting and moving around with what seemed like enthusiasm. Jarred was intrigued by the reaction, as both Elora and Sierra seemed to be.
“Sorry,” Kern interrupted, not having seemed to notice. “How exactly are they going to see about our ship repairs?”
“The Toguai are quite mechanically inclined,” Orna answered. “They may seem primitive, but they are an exceptionally intelligent race, and far more civilized than most others that would be described as being so.”
“Orna,” Sierra began, her eyes scanning the large group of Toguai around them. “Can they . . . understand you?”
“Of course,” Orna replied, matter-of-factly. “They have an understanding of a great many dialects. Only an inability to speak them.”
They all glanced back and forth between one another at that point, equally stunned.
“Wait,” Kern stumbled. “So . . . they understood everything we’ve been saying?”
Though there was ever little to read in Orna’s facial gestures, Jarred thought he could see a glimmer of something akin to humor come into her eyes. “Yes,” she answered.
Kern let his gaze fall over the surrounding Toguai. “Well, that’s embarrassing.”
Sierra and Elora appeared to share his sentiment, but Jarred was more interested in Orna and what had been discussed for an hour in private with the elders.
“Why?” Jarred asked, gaining everyone’s attention. “Why have they decided to help us?”
Orna looked at him, in the curious way she always did. “Need there be a reason for one being to help another?”
“In my experience,” Jarred answered, “always.”
“Why did you help me?” she asked in return.
“We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about them. How did you convince them to help us? What did you tell them?”
Orna was silent for a long moment, Kern and Sierra appearing suddenly as interested in knowing the answer as Jarred was.
“The truth,” she answered simply.
Jarred opened his mouth to press her for more than just another of her usual cryptic answers, but said nothing. He had been down this skylane with her before, and right now, he didn’t have the energy for another round-about question and answer period that went nowhere. It didn’t keep his mind from wandering though. What was the truth? Had she simply explained their situation to the elders, who eventually decided to open their village to a bunch of strangers they were supposedly very weary of? Or was there something more? He suspected the latter. In fact, he knew it.
Orna had been keeping something from him and she wanted him to know it. She was dangling it before him, waiting for him to bite, but withdrawing whenever he did. He didn’t know what her secret was, or what it had to do with him or this place, but he was tired of playing games. He was going to learn the truth, whatever it was.
Chapter 19
SPACE, NEARING RYZA
Even before their father had been taken by the slavers, but especially in the years that followed, Ethan couldn’t remember a time when he had been apart from his sister. She had always been there, taking care of him, even if he thought he didn’t need her to be.
Moving from one refugee settlement to the next, life hadn’t been easy for either of them. The universe was a tough place and he had been forced to grow up in a hurry. He knew how to handle himself, how to navigate the dangers that all refugees faced. You wouldn’t last very long if you didn’t. As he had gotten older he’d grown somewhat annoyed with what he took to be his sister’s overprotectiveness of him, but he also understood where it came from. With both of their parents gone, they were all one another had. They were family and families had to look out for each ot
her. In truth, Elora was the closest thing to a mother he had ever known. Now, packed tightly into the hold of this large bulk freight hauler, bound for a fate he had always feared, he found himself wondering if he would ever see her again.
Only a few short days ago they had been traveling to, what they hoped would have been, their new home aboard a vessel much like this one. Trycon was supposed to be a new beginning for them. The Sect raid on Solta had nearly dashed those hopes, except that by chance they had also met Jarred. Suddenly, Ethan was living the kind of adventure he had only dreamed about, evading the Dominion alongside a stellar bounty hunter, stealing transports, traveling the stars. Since meeting him, their lives had been in a state of constant peril and Ethan had enjoyed every moment of it, until now. The hopeless whimpering of distraught refugees around the hold was a constant reminder of just how serious a situation he was in.
Truly alone for the first time in his life, he was afraid. Afraid for his sister and what had become of her. Afraid of what fate awaited him. So much time spent wishing and dreaming for the day when he would be free to go off on his own and take on the universe without his big sister bossing him around, to make his own choices and find his own path, and here he was, finally on his own and wishing she were here to reassure him that everything would be alright. But she wasn’t here and everything wasn’t alright. If he was going to get through this he would have to do it himself.
The freighter shuddered as it passed through a pocket of air turbulence, one of many since recently reentering atmosphere. Pulling his knees in tight to his body, Ethan tried to tune out the fearful, desperate wails echoing through the hold. It helped that he couldn’t see their faces. The few red tinted overhead light fixtures allowed him a viewing radius of no more than a meter in any direction. They were packed in so tightly, the backs or shoulders of the refugees pressed up against him was probably all he would be able to see anyway.
