by S M Briscoe
“Arden Taliss?” Sierra repeated, incredulously.
“Arden Taliss . . . the crime lord?” Kern asked. “That Arden Taliss?”
“Yes,” Jarred answered, evenly. “That’s the one.”
“You stole Arden Taliss’ ship?” Kern continued, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he had just been told. “How did you-”
Jarred cut him off. “It’s a long story. If we make it through all of this, maybe I’ll tell you about it. Right now, we can consider ourselves lucky to have it, otherwise we wouldn’t have much of a chance of getting off this rock.”
“Only if the cloak works,” Kern commented, gazing around the flight deck with a new look of wonderment.
“It’ll work.” Jarred wasn’t actually positive, but it was their only chance at this point.
“And what then?” Sierra asked. “How do you intend on going after Ethan?”
“Yeah,” Kern seconded. “I mean . . .” He shot an apologetic look at Elora. “. . . I’m sorry for what happened to him, but how are we supposed to find him?”
“With this,” Jarred answered, holding up the device he had been palming for the duration of their conversation.
Both Sierra and Kern gave the object a once over. Sierra was the first to speak.
“A tracking device,” she stated.
Kern looked surprised. “You put a tracking device on the kid?”
“Not on him,” Jarred answered, slipping the tracking unit into a small port in the navigational terminal, waiting a moment for the computer to load the data. “On the bounty I lost during the raid on Isyss.”
Kern and Sierra’s confused expressions weren’t unexpected.
“I’ve been tracking his movements since docking in Trycon,” he continued. “At first, it had looked like he’d made it off Isyss himself, as I picked him up approaching Solta. For a second it had seemed like my luck was changing and he was actually going to come right back to me. I knew better once the Sect showed up in Trycon with the Trill and his slave tram. My guess . . . he was captured at Wasteland Station and transported to Solta with the rest of those captives.”
“And then added to the ones that slimy Trill collected in Trycon,” Sierra added.
“Along with Ethan,” Elora finished, her gaze remaining on Jarred, the pain of her loss showing again on her face, but with it, a glimmer of hope.
He gave her an affirming nod.
“Hold on,” Kern interjected. “That’s a pretty far leap. There’s no way of knowing for sure if Ethan was even taken with the rest of those refugees . . . or if your bounty was part of the group at all.”
“You’re right,” Jarred admitted. “There isn’t. But right now it’s all I have to go on, so that’s where I’m going to start.”
“So, where is this bounty of yours now?” Sierra asked.
Jarred glanced back at the navigational display which was showing an overview of the Turausian planetary system. “Up until two days ago, it was reading here.” He punched a command into the terminal and the image zoomed in towards one of the system’s many moons.
“Ryza?” Kern declared, as the moon’s name appeared on the display. “They didn’t take them very far. That’s Syntax corporation. The whole moon is one massive production facility. Mining. Weaponry. Ship yards. They do everything there.”
“Including trafficking slaves, apparently,” Sierra added, before turning her attention back to Jarred. “What do you mean, up until two days ago? Where are they now?”
“My guess is they’re still there,” he answered her. “But, I can’t be sure.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“The tracer I injected into Mac was an organic tracking node. It’s undetectable to scanners, but breaks down in the host’s bloodstream within a few days. This was his last location before the signal dissolved two days ago.”
“So, he might not even be there anymore?” Kern concluded. “If he ever was.”
“It’s possible,” Jarred agreed. “But, like I said, it’s a starting point.”
“What about Orna?” Sierra asked after a moment’s pause. “She’s too important to us to start trekking around the system with her while we look for some-” She stopped herself, glancing over at Elora. “While we look for Ethan.”
“I’m not asking you to trek around the system with me,” Jarred returned. “If Ethan isn’t on Ryza, I’ll track him down myself after taking you where you need to go. In the meantime, Orna will be safe enough here with the Toguai.” He could tell that both Kern and Sierra were hesitant, and it was with good reason. They had their own mandate, not to mention the risks involved with what he was asking of them. “I know I’m asking a lot of you on this. In your place, I probably wouldn’t help me either. But, this isn’t about me. It’s about them.” He looked in Elora’s direction. “They’re in this mess because of your mission. We have a chance to help them out of it. I’m asking you to do that. To help them. To do what’s right. You owe them that much. And so do I.”
By the look in Sierra’s eyes, he could tell that she was measuring him. Trying to determine whether or not his intent was truly what he said it was. She wasn’t the sentimental type. She was cold and calculating. Hardened by the things she had done and witnessed in her lifetime. His words would not sway her. But they weren’t meant to.
Unlike Sierra, Kern was not measuring him. Neither was he trying to find an ulterior motive to his request. He was a kind hearted person, less apt to assuming the worst in others, and right now, his attention fixed steadily on a spot of floor in front of him, Jarred knew that his thoughts were focused inward. He was, in fact, measuring himself.
While Sierra was obviously the higher ranking of the two, Kern was in turn, a sort of moral compass to her. If there was any chance of them helping him, it would be Kern that facilitated it.
As Kern finally raised his head and let his conflicted gaze move from the floor to where Sierra sat, Jarred felt himself sigh inwardly with relief, knowing that the sentimental pilot wouldn’t let him down.
* * *
Things moved quickly once Sierra and Kern had finally agreed to help Jarred in his plan to find and hopefully free Ethan. Their stolen ship, now space worthy once again, was prepped for flight and ready for lift off within a few short hours. All that was left was to give thanks and bid farewell to their hosts, the Toguai, who had gathered at the landing site to see them off.
It was obvious that Sierra was not pleased with the situation. If it had not been for Kern’s good natured persistence, Elora doubted she would be helping them at all. As she had said, she had better things to do than to trek around the system looking for some kid. Luckily, Kern seemed to have more of a moral influence over the woman than she would probably care to admit. Whatever the reason, they were lending their aid to help her brother, and for that much, she had to be grateful.
In the face of their imminent departure and intended course, Elora was surprised to find herself suddenly both elated and terrified. The faint hope she had clung to of finding Ethan was the only thing that had kept her from sinking completely into the dark well of despair that was her constant companion, eager and hungry to consume her should she slip too far to return. The thought that she might actually realize that small glimmer of hope was like a lung full of air after a crushing weight had been lifted from her chest.
At the same time, she had no clear insight into what had become of her brother. Apart from where Jarred thought he might be, she could only guess at what his condition was or whether he was even still alive. Though she couldn’t allow herself to even contemplate the latter, she knew that inevitably, she would soon come face to face with whatever fate, good or bad, had come of him. And that was what terrified her. Not knowing the end result. Only that it was coming.
A person could drive herself crazy going back and forth the way she was, which was exactly what Elora felt was happening, or at least would happen, if she didn’t get a grip. She needed to calm down and focus on what the o
bjective was. Getting Ethan back. Not all of the what ifs. If she planned on seeing this through, her head needed to be in the right place, not spinning in circles. She needed to follow Sierra’s example, as strange as that seemed, and take a cold and methodical approach. Set her eyes on the target and go after it, blocking out any emotional baggage she might have. It was the only way she would be of any help to Jarred, or Ethan.
Her unexpected feelings for Jarred were another issue altogether. As hard as she had been trying to ignore them, while at the same time scorning herself for feeling them at all under the circumstances, she had been unsuccessful. Between bouts of grief and guilt over Ethan, her thoughts continued to drift back to him. To that night in the desert when she had felt so connected to him, like she had never felt with any other person before. Not Ethan or her father. Not even her . . . mother. She loved them all deeply and each held a special place in her heart, but this was very different from those family bonds. That night on Isyss, she had felt completely exposed to Jarred, and he in turn to her, as though their most personal thoughts and feelings were open to one another. And though she thought she should feel insecure or even frightened of being so vulnerable to another person, she hadn’t been, at least not in the moment. They had been awkward with one another ever since, never speaking of what had happened. At least until last night when he had kissed her. A kiss that had simultaneously settled her strained nerves while sending sparks of electric fire coursing through her entire body.
Over the years, she hadn’t had a lot of time for intimate companionship. As a younger girl there had been the occasional adolescent romance, but they had been little more than innocent crushes. She was no longer a child and a lot had changed since then. With the loss of her father, she had essentially become Ethan’s guardian. He was her sole responsibility. She had devoted herself to keeping them going. Nothing else was more important, a romantic relationship being the farthest thing from her mind. It probably didn’t hurt that most of the men she did encounter tended to be slime.
Jarred definitely wasn’t slime, but he wasn’t perfect either. Not the type of man she thought she would ever be attracted to, though she had never really put much thought into the matter. He was a bounty hunter after all. A self serving mercenary who cared little for anyone but himself, putting his own needs before anyone else’s. At least that was the image he tried to portray. She had been outraged and appalled by some of things she had heard him say or propose in their short time together, though in truth, there had seemed to be little weight behind a lot of those words. It had taken very little persuading on her part to convince him to take Ethan and herself with him from the Isyss outpost and even less to help Orna. Beneath his rough exterior and uncaring attitude, Elora was beginning to see the man that Jarred truly was. One that cared about all of the atrocities he saw around him, but pretended not to. Perhaps he had even convinced himself that he didn’t. What she didn’t know was why. Why was Jarred trying so hard not to care?
Whatever the reason, he had let his armor slip with her. He had been reluctant to help them on Isyss, labeling them as excess baggage, but had done so anyway. Later, he’d risked his life to rescue them in Trycon and now he was about to do it again to get Ethan back. Was that the reason behind her growing feelings for him? A sense of gratitude that was translating into affection? She had to admit that it made some sense. It was a strenuous situation and she couldn’t deny her own fragile emotional state. Were her feelings for Jarred just a byproduct of the stress she had been under, bolstered by his growing willingness to help her? It was a definite possibility. It was also one more distraction to occupy her thoughts, which was something she couldn’t afford if she hoped to be of any use to her brother. She needed to focus.
Snapping herself out of her dazed state, she found that she had actually been tuning out what appeared to be a brewing conflict of sorts between Jarred and the Toguai. He seemed to be arguing with them, as strange an idea as that was, them being a non speaking species. It took her only a moment to realize that wasn’t actually the case. His hands were upraised in a non threatening manner one might use to calm or quiet an agitated person or, in this case, group of persons, as he shook his head negatively while looking between the group of Toguai and Orna. The Toguai were noticeably excited, but in a manner that didn’t appear to be hostile. As Jarred’s words, as well as the scene, began to register, she realized that he wasn’t so much arguing as attempting to reason with them.
“Really,” he was saying. “That’s not necessary.”
“To the Toguai,” Orna explained, “it is quite necessary. They believe it to be their purpose. They have protected this place and that which was hidden within it for many generations. Now that you bear the sword, their oath is to you.”
“They don’t owe me anything,” Jarred insisted.
“It is not a question of owing. The Toguai have devoted themselves to guarding the secret that was buried here. You have unearthed it. You do not yet understand the consequences of doing so, nonetheless, your actions have set certain events into motion. Events that will affect more than just yourself. The Toguai understand this.”
“Wait a minute,” Jarred interrupted. “Consequences of my actions? What consequences? What events?”
“Every action has consequences, Jarred Archer. What you have in your possession has been sought by many over millennia who would stop at nothing to claim its power as their own. Now that you are its bearer, they will come for you. It is now your purpose to protect it, as it will protect you. The Toguai have sworn an oath to do the same, and that is why they must accompany you.”
Up until that moment, the context of the conversation had been completely lost on Elora, though with Orna’s last statement, she suddenly knew why Jarred was arguing so persistently. The Toguai wanted to go with them. She wasn’t positive as to why, apart from it having something to do with the strange sword Jarred had returned from inside the mountain with. Where it went, they seemed to want to follow. She also understood why that could be a problem. They were about to leave on a mission to rescue Ethan from some kind of slave work camp buried somewhere inside a moon sized factory. Elora wasn’t even sure how Jarred intended to go about doing it, but she thought it was safe to assume that having a clan of Toguai tagging along presented a problem.
If her brother’s life wasn’t at stake, she would almost have to laugh at the situation. Jarred had been more than resistant to having Ethan and herself tagging along with him. An entire village of stalky grey beings at his heels was probably the equivalent of his worst possible nightmare.
Kern and Sierra didn’t look any more pleased, standing off to one side near the ship’s boarding ramp. Though they had agreed to help Jarred, they would no doubt want the job over and done with quickly so that they could return to collect Orna and complete their own.
“Hold on, who’s coming after me?” Jarred asked, the outrage in his voice obvious. “You know what, never mind. I didn’t sign up for any of this. The Toguai can keep this thing. I’ll just put it right back where I found it.”
“You must know by now that is not possible,” Orna replied, calmly. “What has been done cannot be undone. You and the sword are bound to one another now. Together, you have opened a doorway which cannot be closed. Now you must continue along your chosen path.”
“Chosen path?” Jarred exclaimed. “I didn’t choose this! You told me to go in there.”
“I did no such thing,” Orna corrected. “You wanted answers. I simply directed you to where you could find them. The choice to enter the sphere and remove the sword was your own.”
Jarred didn’t respond immediately, remaining silent for a long moment, as though composing himself.
“Orna,” he said, finally, speaking through clenched teeth. “Would you please thank the Toguai for their generous offer, but inform them that we just don’t have space for their entire village onboard.”
Orna kept her gaze on Jarred. “They are of course aware of this. T
he village will not be joining you.”
Jarred gave her a confused look. “Oh. But, I thought you said they meant to . . .”
“Accompany you,” Orna finished his sentence. “Yes, they do. The Toguai have selected a single member of their clan to serve as your honor guard on all of their behalf. He will be the only one to go with you.”
Jarred looked around at the many Toguai surrounding the landing site. “Which one?”
“You have already met him. He was your guide into the mountain.”
Elora’s gaze shifted to a single Toguai as it stepped forward, away from the rest of the group. Really, it was difficult to tell any of them apart, aside from some of the more extreme age differences, but this one had a satchel slung across his body over one shoulder. Apparently it was his only baggage for the trip.
“Tarik was chosen for this task upon your arrival,” Orna continued. “For as long as you are the bearer of the sword, he will be with you. Where you go, he will go, and he will give his life to protect yours.”
Jarred let out a heavy breath. “There’s no way I can convince them to reconsider?”
“For your sake, no,” Orna began. “You may not believe so now, but you will need his help . . . and that of others.”
Jarred glanced over his shoulder at Sierra and Kern behind him. He wasn’t the type of person who asked for help. That much was obvious, but the circumstances they had all found themselves in seemed to leave him with few options. As much as it appeared to pain him to admit, he couldn’t pull off this rescue alone. But Orna’s tone seemed to imply something more. A deeper meaning to her words that went beyond their current situation. Elora wasn’t sure what it was, but she could tell the statement had struck a deeper chord with Jarred as well.
Jarred gave Orna a nod before returning his gaze to the stalky Toguai, Tarik, looking him up and down for a moment. “Well, it’s not like I’ve been in the habit of turning anyone away lately.” He gestured towards the boarding ramp. “Welcome aboard, I guess.”
