by S M Briscoe
“Hold on!” he shouted. “This is going to be tight!” Switching armaments, he sent a barrage of crimson cannon fire into the maelstrom of explosions still occurring with the building, to clear the path, and followed it into the super structure. Flaming debris fell to all sides of the them and pelted the hull as they shot through the wreckage, the turbulence becoming so severe he actually began to fear his timing had been off and they would not make it clear of the destruction. But a fraction of a second later he was looking at more in progress skyscrapers and open sky, the debris turbulence passing.
“Raise the cloak!” he shouted, almost having forgotten the most crucial part of their plan.
“Engaged!” Sierra returned, the flight deck falling into a dead silence, apart from the droning engines, as they all waited for the assault craft to have seen their ruse and strike, or any other sign that their bluff had failed. But after a long, tension filled moment, when no further attacks had come, Kern allowed himself to exhale the breath he felt like he had been holding since first dropping the cloak back at the temple.
“Did we make it?” Ethan asked, breaking the group’s silence.
No one replied right away, the fear that a sudden barrage of laser blasts would start tearing into them at any moment, most likely on all of their minds. Kern took the moment to run a quick systems check.
“Shields arrays are gone,” he reported, scanning the report on his display. “Same with the scanners and long range comm relays. But no serious hull damage or breaches.” That confirmed, he set the ship into a slow bank, bringing them around for a view of the destruction behind them. Plumes of smoke rose from the still crumbling super skyscraper, dozens of assault craft circling in and out of the area, searching for their remains no doubt.
“I think so, kid,” Jarred said, finally answering Ethan’s question. “I think so.” Another moment passed.
“Kern?” he asked. “How would you like to take us out of here?”
“It would be my great pleasure,” Kern answered, possibly never having spoken truer words.
Putting them into a steep climb, he ascended clear of the partially erected towers and skycranes, clear of their Sect pursuers and the Gaian mega city, and made haste for the stars.
Chapter 44
BORDER SPACE, INFINITY STATION
An isolated relic at the far edge of Dominion space, Infinity Station was one of, if not the furthest manned habitat, in functioning order, from the system core, which also made it one of the safest places anyone looking to lay low was likely to find. Jarred was relieved that Sierra and Kern had friends in such a place.
Nearly two weeks had passed since they had rescued him from the clutches of the Sect, in the heart of the Gaian capitol no less, most of that time having been spent putting as much distance between themselves and the Dominion Homeworld as possible, traveling well beyond the outermost colonies before finally making berth at the small, aging space station. It’s remote locale and relative obscurity had offered secure haven for the exhausted group, something each and every one of them was in dire need of and grateful for, considering what they had been through over the passed month. It had given them the time they all needed to recharge and recuperate, as well as reflect on the things they had witnessed . . . and experienced.
Sitting on the flight deck of the Fancy Girl; the vessel was still in dire need of a transponder change; which was securely anchored to one of the station’s umbilical boarding arms, Jarred found himself doing just that, as he gazed out the front viewport into, what was commonly referred to across the Dominion as, The Great Expanse. The incommutable void that stretched between the outer border of this solar system and the nearest of stars. It was much like looking out over the edge of a cliff, he supposed, the sensation intensified by a magnitude that was exponentially greater obviously, though the visual was more symbolic than anything. The matte black, star pocked background that was space generally looked the same from wherever you were in it, including the outer boundary of the solar system.
Yet still, he imagined the sight may have left some feeling rather small and insignificant. Dark, cold and empty, The Great Expanse was the ultimate example of how isolated they all really were. Amongst the Universe’s multitude of galaxies and the almost infinite number of solar systems that comprised each of them, they were but one. One small speck of light in all of the blackness, unable to cross the distance that divided them from the other specks, at least not in a single being’s life span. Even surrounded by millions of other star systems, possibly with life and civilizations of their own, they were alone.
Much as Jarred had been for the better part of his recalled life. He had always preferred it that way. A solitary existence, with only himself to worry about. It was safer. Less complicated. Peaceful even. If there was a peace to be found in this world. He supposed that was why the sight filled him, not with unease or discomfort, but with a sense of calm. Sitting out in the middle of the void, far from everything and anyone, he felt as though he could finally breath again. Something else he was grateful for after the events of the passed number of weeks.
It was strange to think of how much things had changed in that short time. The whirlwind series of events that had occurred to bring him to this place. How had it all happened? He had been keeping to his own business, collecting on a fairly routine bounty . . . and then he had made one misstep. One action outside of his own code and against his better judgment. He had gotten involved in another person’s business. It had seemed a minor thing at the time, but from that one action, everything had spiraled out of control, a chain reaction of worsening invents, until he was in so deep there seemed to be no way to stop the momentum. Now, he was on the run. Part of a wanted terrorist faction, as false as that spin was, and a wanted fugitive of the Sect Dominion. The life he had been living, one forged by himself, seemed a distant memory now that he could not get back.
And yet something in him had also been changed by it all. Not only in the physical changes he was undertaking, as much a mystery to him as was his past, but in his own perceptions as well. An alliance with Sierra and Kern, a necessity at the time of their meeting, had developed into something unexpected. A friendship. And in Elora and Ethan, he had found something more. Something he wasn’t quite ready to put a name to yet, but was not recoiling from either. Both things he would have beat a hasty retreat from before. Now . . . he found himself almost welcoming them. For certain, he wasn’t looking to run from them. And that was definitely something new.
Tearing his gaze from the endless star field, Jarred turned his attention back to the nav station he was seated at, noting that the download he had prompted was complete. He looked over the list of system wide mapping coordinates again, satisfied with what he had collected. Now that Ethan and Elora were safe, he could continue on the journey he had begun in the depths of the Soltan mountains. One that he had felt beckoning him forward since being united with the sword buried deep within the rock. The Hybrid Sword, as Orna had called it. It was a journey that, he hoped, would lead him to some answers. Answers to the questions that had plagued him for so long. To the mystery of his past. And to who . . . or what . . . he truly was. He had run from the questions for long enough. He wouldn’t do so any longer. Whatever answers were waiting for him, he was determined to face them. Of course, being ready to embark on the journey was only the first step. It always helped to know which direction you were headed. He didn’t have much to go on, based on the frozen setting he had dreamt of, but the list on the nav display would be a good starting point.
Removing the datacard he had transferred the coordinates to, he stood and looked around the flight deck, taking in the array of control stations, communication suites and diagnostic terminals, all backing onto the unique lowered flight cockpit. It had carried him through the better part of his journey so far and had played an instrumental role in saving his life, as well as everyone else’s. It really was an extraordinary ship. He would miss it. Slipping the datacard into hi
s satchel, Jarred turned and exited through the rear hatch, and found Orna waiting for him in the main hold, as he knew she would be.
Though admittedly, he still understood very little about the strange being, he had learned enough to know when to expect one of her cryptic conversations. Truthfully, he still had many questions for her, and though they were finally about to part ways, he suspected he would not receive the answers. At least not all of them. That was obviously Orna’s way. She had only ever told him enough to keep him wondering, looking for his own answers. In the end, he supposed that was what she had been trying to get him to do all along. To follow his own path and find the answers for himself. Though it had frustrated him to no end, he had come to understand her intent, and appreciate it as well. It was what he needed to push him in the right direction, or for him to at least choose a direction for himself, instead of doing everything in his power to avoid it. And now he had finally made that choice, for better or worse. A path. One that he planned to follow through to conclusion.
After a long moment of silent observation of one another, both no doubt looking at the other in a newer light; or perhaps it was only Jarred that was now seeing everything differently, including himself; he spoke first, as usual.
“I was expecting this conversation to happen sooner,” he confessed.
Orna blinked, an expression Jarred had come to associate with curiosity on her part, feigned or genuine he wasn’t sure. “It could not have happened sooner than now,” she returned. “Nothing can happen before its time. It had to wait until you were ready. And now that you are . . . the time has come.”
Jarred held back a laugh, but let his smile show openly. He supposed he should have expected the response, or something like it. “I guess you’re right.” There was more silence as he considered everything he wanted to say. To ask.
“You have questions?” Orna probed.
“I do,” he answered her. “Many. But do you have answers?”
“That is a question by itself,” she replied. “And in answer, it would depend on the question asked. I also have questions. Perhaps it is fair that for each of yours, one of mine is answered as well.”
That caught Jarred by surprise. “You have questions . . . of me?”
“Can I not?” Orna queried.
“No,” he allowed. “I mean, yes. You can, of course. That’s fair enough.”
She nodded. “Then let us begin.”
When Orna did not speak further, but only continued to stare at him with her dark, unblinking eyes, Jarred concluded that she was now expecting him to start . . . or continue, as it were. Taking a breath, he considered the many questions that had been consuming his thoughts and settled on his first question.
“First thing’s first,” he began. “You’re one of the Prophets.” It wasn’t really a question, but a statement.
“Is this a question?” she returned.
“No,” Jarred said. “I saw the others in the temple . . . like you. But I want to hear you say it.”
Orna blinked slowly and gave him a slight nod, a gesture he took be one of acceptance. “Very well. I am a Prophet.”
“The rogue Prophet,” he corrected.
“If that is what they are calling me,” she answered.
“It is,” Jarred went on. “Heretic also.” He watched Orna for any sign of emotional reaction, but as usual saw none.
“Does this trouble you?” she asked.
“That depends on your intentions,” Jarred returned. “Why did you leave?” When she didn’t immediately respond, he went on. “What were you running from?”
“I was not running from anything,” Orna answered. “I was following the path before me, as we must all do. It led me away from the Prophets. It led me to you.”
“For what purpose?” Jarred pressed.
“I believe it is my turn to ask a question,” she returned, instead of answering him.
Jarred sighed, heavily. “Alright. Ask”
“In the temple,” she began, “do you know what it was you faced?”
Jarred considered the question. It was one he had been asking himself since first seeing the dark being as it emerged from the strange portal within the temple audience chamber. Recalling the image sent a cold chill up his spine. “It . . . was powerful,” he answered her. “And dark. But I don’t know what it was.” He met Orna’s gaze. “Do you?”
“I do,” she replied, simply.
When Orna didn’t elaborate further, Jarred continued. “Well, what was it?”
“I believe I have already answered your question,” she stated. “Now you must answer mine.”
Jarred began to feel his annoyance with the small being growing once more. “Fine.”
“What do you believe it was?” she asked.
Scowling, Jarred took in what should have been a calming breath, though he didn’t feel his aggravation lessen any. “That’s the same question I just asked you.”
“No,” Orna corrected him. “It is not.”
“Like I said, I don’t know what it was.”
“I did not ask you what it was. I asked what you believe it was.”
Seeing she would not budge on the matter, he replies, letting his frustration come through in his tone. “It doesn’t matter what I believe.”
Orna’s head tilted slightly, an almost quizzical look. “But it does. What you believe defines your reality.”
“And if what I believe is wrong?” he challenged her.
“It cannot be,” she returned. “Only once your belief changes, does your reality.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Jarred argued.
“Does it not?” she countered. “Look around you. The people of this system, even those you travel with, are controlled by what they believe. Whether you share those beliefs or not, you must acknowledge their impact on their realities, as well as your own.”
“So, you’re saying that if I believe that thing in the temple was a Usarion . . . a God . . . then that makes it true?”
“For you,” Orna replied. “Yes. And for anyone who is impacted by the actions that belief leads you to take. Is that what you believe?”
Jarred shook his head, mostly at himself. “I’m not sure what I believe right now.”
“There is no fault in that,” Orna said, sounding almost reassuring. “No being knows their full self at the beginning of their journey. That is a destination each of us must reach in our own time. When followed, our paths will lead us to our own truths in due course. Continue along yours and the clarity you seek will follow.”
Jarred considered the words of wisdom. “It’s hard to walk one when you’re not sure what it is. But I am trying.”
“That is all any being can do,” Orna returned, Jarred wondering if he saw a hint of a smile on the small being’s face. He was doubtful, but the possibility in itself brought a grin to his own.
“Do you have other questions?” she asked, after a lingering moment of silence between them.
“I do,” Jarred answered. “But they can wait. Who knows, maybe I’ll come across the answers myself.”
“You are learning,” Orna said, sounding amused.
Jarred smiled. “I am trying.” He supposed he didn’t have much choice in the matter. If he wanted to answer the mysteries that were his past . . . and his future . . . he would need to open himself to learning them. As difficult as that was for him to do, he knew as well that the time had come to stop running. From his past. From the truth. It was time to stop and face it. And whatever it held for his future. Admittedly, finally making that decision was a significant step for him. It was yet another sign of the changes he was undergoing. Changes that continued to surprise him. And sometimes frighten him. He wasn’t sure of who or what he was becoming, and while that left him feeling vulnerable and uneasy, he also knew just as well that he had to accept and deal with those feelings as part of the journey.
As Orna had said, he couldn’t know the end of his journey and he couldn’t be d
elivered to it by another. He had to walk it, and doing so would not always be easy or comfortable. Surprisingly, Jarred thought he might actually be starting to make some sense of the strange being’s riddles. Even more so, as odd as it was, he knew that he felt grateful towards her. For her guidance, as vague as it was. And for the path she had started him down, as perilous as the journey had been so far. For the first time he could recall, he felt as though he had a direction, aside from away from his past . . . and himself. Though he didn’t say as much to her, he suspected she knew it.
“I guess this is goodbye” he said instead, breaking the silence.
Orna shook her head, a subtle gesture most people would not have perceived, and one Jarred had noticed only in light of the time he had spent trying to discern her alien mannerisms. “There are no goodbyes, Jarred Archer. Nothing is so certain in this world. Our paths met for a time. And now they part. Who is to say they will not meet again?”
“I can’t believe I’m saying it,” Jarred admitted, “but . . . I hope that one day they do.”
“As do I,” she allowed.
They regarded one another for a long, thoughtful moment; at least thoughtful for Jarred, as he considered all he had experienced as a result of crossing paths with the being. He supposed it was really saying something that after all of it he was still open to the possibility of doing anything but running in the opposite direction of her. That point alone solidified it for him. He really had changed. A grin came to his face and he gave Orna a slight nod, his impersonation of one of her own mannerisms, and then turned to walk towards the exit portal and umbilical arm that connected the ship to Infinity Station.
“I wish to thank you, Jarred Archer,” Orna said, as Jarred reached the portal. For what you have done . . . and for what you will do.”
Jarred couldn’t help but smirk at the characteristically cryptic comment, but knew better than to inquire on her meaning. He had learned that much by now. “Farewell, Orna,” he offered instead, turning away once again.
