by Dave Walsh
Krigar was, for all intents and purposes, technologically beyond what Ingen had known aboard the Omega. Everything was clean and sleek, and there were homages to the cultural history of the Krigans everywhere, but these were not primitive people by any stretch of the imagination.
Ingen’s life on Andlios was spent in a cave afterward. The stronghold felt very much like something from the age of the Vikings in ancient Earth history. There were gentle reminders of the technology that Andlios possessed, but the warband kept things simple within the stronghold.
Tyr never had an explanation for the simplicity and lack of modern amenities within the stronghold; he always explained that was just how it had to be. Ingen always assumed that it was some Krigan tradition that went unspoken, that warriors engaged in the art of war had to live like their ancestors did, but the topic was always quickly dropped in favor of discussing tactics or drinking. Not that he minded either of those.
They loaded into the ground vehicles quietly, with Tyr still looking uncomfortable leaving without Alva having returned yet. But Tyr was a man of honor and would always do what was best for his people. Øystein moved into the driver’s seat and switched the power on. The ground vehicle was more of an air vehicle that floated a few meters above the ground, but it wasn’t able to sustain actual flight for longer than a few minutes before it needed to be close to the ground again.
Tyr sat silently in the passenger seat while Ingen sat in the back, close to the window. Andlios was a strange planet, that much was for sure. The first few minutes, they moved through desolate wastelands where the ground was unable to sustain life. But before long, signs of life came back, as did signs of humanity. Homes -- small at first, then growing larger and more densely packed together -- were everywhere on the road to Krigar. The closer they got to Krigar, the more life there was and the more people there were.
If you had asked Ingen if there was a war going on or if the people of Andlios were living some sad existence, the simple answer from the outskirts of Krigar would be a simple no. The location of the strongholds were strategic in that they surrounded the area and were placed in such a fashion that for someone to directly invade the city, they’d need to go through the strongholds first.
Ingen had asked early on about just landing a ship directly into the city, which seemed like the logical thing to do, but Tyr explained that there were electromagnetic pulses sent up through certain frequencies around the city that would disable any ship that wasn’t broadcasting to counter-frequencies. The Earth Ministry’s Fourth Fleet had attempted direct assaults early on, only to lose control over their ships and find them rushing toward the surface, completely out of their control.
According to Tyr, that was how they got a lot of early intel, from capturing the troops on those ships. The ships were bombers, and the men aboard were just grunts, but it had helped them early on before Ingen arrived. Tyr was not in charge back then, but he did control his own warband, the same one that lived and fought alongside him in the stronghold, so he saw most of it from a distance. Now, though? This would be Tyr’s homecoming after a huge victory.
In a way, Ingen was nervous for him. Tyr was placed into power two years prior, only for Ingen to convince him that they must leave Krigar for a stronghold where he could do the most good. The people of Krigar knew Tyr, but there might be some harboring resentment toward him for doing things so differently, so against the Krigan way. These were desperate times, though, which meant that extreme measures had to be taken to ensure the survival of Andlios.
When they pulled up to the gates of Krigar, it was a seamless process: They kept moving at a steady pace, the gates opened just enough to allow them to enter, and they were driving through the great city of Krigar. It was even more amazing than he remembered it from the fragments of his memory. Living a life within a cave would make the outside world that much more magnificent, though, Ingen figured, especially after growing up in a floating cave of sorts. Skyscrapers reached out to the sky, and people walked the streets carrying on with their day-to-day lives. Cars whizzed by each other, and life carried on.
They reached a stopping point and saw a large crowd gathered in front of the Palace. Tyr groaned and Øystein grunted before there was a tap on the window. Øystein retracted the window only to see a guard in uniform saluting him.
“Øystein, sir!” The guard sounded nervous.
“What? We need to get the Jarl through.”
“I understand. You are cleared for flight into the Palace hangar.”
Øystein grunted and nodded before the window moved back into place. The car bucked and lifted off of the ground roughly. Øystein was clearly unhappy about seeing such a crowd. “I can’t protect you if there are crowds like this,” he grunted at Tyr.
“I understand,” Tyr said. “But this is what we need -- we need our people to work together. Just like we need support from the Helgeans and Cymages.”
“The Cymages!” Øystein blurted out, the car pitching sharply to the left toward the hangar. “We have no need for their kind.”
“We have need for all of Andlios to be united, Øystein,” Tyr said quietly. Ingen knew of the tales of the Cymages, of the great wars between the Cymages and Krigans and how the Krigans viewed the Cymages as dangerous. The Cymages were, like everyone else on Andlios, all linked back to the original three tribes. The folklore claimed that they all got along and worked together, but it was clear that things couldn’t have been that simple.
Eventually a splintering happened when their technology began to advance. The Helgeans became closed off, a nation of religious, peaceful people who rejected technology. The Krigans had no real problem with technological advancement, but the Cymages -- the Cydonians -- saw technology as a savior, as the alpha and omega. They began experimenting with implants, with trying to force evolution through technology.
The great wars of Andlios came from the differing opinions and the outrage at the Cydonians and their use of technology. Ingen had yet to see a single Cydonian in his entire time on Andlios. The Cydonians had lost the last great war, but that was a very long time ago. The stories tell that the Cydonians closed off their nation and haven’t allowed a single Helgean or Krigan entry, nor have the Cydonians ventured out beyond their borders. He knew that wasn’t true, though. He had heard about Cydonian nomads and wanderers from Tyr and Alva, but Ingen had yet to see one in person.
According to some of the intel that the Krigans had, the Cydonians did have working spacecrafts and were still actively pursuing space exploration, something that both the Helgeans and Krigans had given up on after the last great war. The Krigans believed that the Cydonians were looking to find another planet to inhabit, which did not bother the Krigans at all. But it was all still just hearsay and rumor.
Tyr wanting support from the Cydonians was new to Ingen, although it was something that he had brought up to Tyr over the years. It was always quickly shot down. Tyr never told him that he’d even considered the idea. Hearing him utter it aloud was a shock to Ingen, and it had driven Øystein to complete silence, which was always an ominous sign. The car came to a halt within the hangar. The doors opened, and Ingen got a view of the Palace.
He stepped out and noted that the air felt different, almost humid, compared to how dry it was by the stronghold and the wastelands. It was definitely a stark contrast from being inside of the cave. They were led into the Palace, which took Ingen’s breath away. He had been relegated to some of the back rooms when he was there, but walking through the main halls was amazing.
“Sir,” one of the guards said as he looked at Tyr. “There is a large congregation out there. They’ve been there all day; they are waiting for you.”
“Yeah,” Øystein snarled. “We had to get around them.”
“What should I do?” Tyr said. “They want to hear from me?”
“You should make a statement, Tyr.” Ingen looked up at him. They hadn’t prepared for this, but Tyr was a born leader, and he’d know what to sa
y to his people.
“What do I tell them?”
“The truth,” Ingen said. “That we are facing dire circumstances, but that we’ve been winning in every exchange thus far, and we need their support.”
“Where?” Tyr looked at the guard, who nodded and led them up a set of stairs to a balcony overlooking the plaza below.
“Great,” Tyr grunted under his breath, looking out over the horde of Krigans. He took a deep breath and opened the door, walking out onto the balcony to meet the roar of the crowd. Tyr raised his hands high, his pulseaxe in his right hand.
“My people,” he roared. “Tonight I return to Krigar, not just as a Krigan, but as a proud Krigan warrior!”
The crowd ate it up. Ingen stood behind him, taken aback by the wave of energy from the crowd washing over him. It was hitting him like a freight train at full speed. The feeling was unlike anything he had ever felt before. There was an actual force behind the crowd -- an actual force that he could feel. It was exhilarating.
“We’ve all suffered since the return of the Banished,” Tyr continued as the crowd started to quiet down. They were listening and in awe of Tyr. “Their senseless violence against us, against Andlios, must not go unchecked. We are proud people, strong people, but we must stand together as one to face this menace. I’ve been there on the front lines this whole time. I’ve been fighting among my warband, fending back the Banished threat. Andlios will not fall!
“We will not surrender to them -- we will continue to fight!” He pumped his ax into the sky, and the crowd roared once again. He turned back to Ingen, who was still in shock, and motioned for him to move up beside him. Ingen shook his head, wanting to remain in the background.
The crowd began to quiet when Tyr spoke again. “We need your help, people of Krigar. We need to stand united. This right here is Ingen. He came to us from the Banished over two cycles ago. We knew not if we were to trust him or to kill him, but now I trust him beyond any other.
“You see, peace can be attained -- and not all of the Banished are evil! Ingen here,” he said as he motioned again for Ingen to step out. The crowd urged him to, which compelled him to step forward, still dumbfounded by the surge of power from the crowd.
“He has taught us a great deal of things about the Banished, about their Earth Ministry and our nemesis, Admiral Navarro and his Fourth Fleet. There are others like Ingen who simply wish for peace and are simply seeking a new home where they can start over, to co-exist with us.
“Andlios has a bloody history, one that we are reminded of on a daily basis. War is not new for us, but we must move forward, beyond our great wars of the past, and look to build a new future. We believe that not everyone wishes to follow Admiral Navarro, that not everyone wishes to see the end of Andliosian culture. We will continue to fight until the bitter end, my friends, no matter the outcome, because we are Krigans, and we are of Andlios!”
He pumped his pulseaxe into the air one last time, urging Ingen to do the same. They both stood, listening to the roar of the crowd that began chanting Tyr’s name. Tyr slapped Ingen on the back before turning to see a solemn look on Øystein’s face, urging them to get back in. Ingen moved back, tugging Tyr behind him while Øystein shook his head.
“I can’t protect you out there, Tyr,” he stated.
“Those are our people, Øystein. They need to see me unafraid,” he said. “Anyway, we should have guests waiting for us in the Great Hall. Are they here?” He turned to the guard, who looked on nervously.
“Yes, sir,” he swallowed hard. “But I’m not sure that --”
“That’ll be enough. Let's not keep them waiting.”
They walked beyond Tyr, who strode with confidence toward the doors to the Great Hall, which were at least six meters in height with intricate carvings depicting great Krigan warriors in battle. Ingen almost wanted to stare at them for a while before Tyr swung them open, only for Øystein to curse under his breath and draw his pulseaxe.
“No, wait!” Tyr shouted, hand outstretched. “Øystein, stand down.”
“It’s a fucking Cymage! Here, in the Great Hall!”
“I know.” Tyr placed his hand on Øystein’s pulseaxe, lowering it. “I invited him here. Øystein, you wait out here. Ingen, come in.”
“Okay,” Ingen gulped, feeling a knot in his stomach. He had heard tales of these Cydonians, but never seen one in person. This one stood next to a Helgean monk, wearing a similar robe, but also wearing some sort of mask over his face with a respirator. His hands were clasped over the front of his robe in gloves that appeared to have small nodes on them.
It was an odd scene if he had ever seen one before. Tyr strode across the room, offering his hand to both men. The Helgean took it first and shook his hand while placing his other hand over both and nodding. The Cydonian only nodded at him. Tyr withdrew his hand and nodded back.
“Gentlemen, please have a seat,” Tyr instructed as he motioned toward the Great Table. He took his own place at the front of the table while Ingen stood there, still dumbfounded at the sight of an actual Cydonian.
“I’ve never met a Cydonian before,” Ingen said from across the table. “But I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Ah, excuse him,” Tyr chuckled softly. “This is Ingen of my warband. He is my adviser, and I wish for him to be here.”
“So be it,” the Cydonian muttered, his voice processed through the mask and coming out mildly robotic. “I am Trallex of Cydonia. You understand that we have not had a meeting like this in well over one thousand cycles, do you not?”
“Yes, I do,” Tyr said. “Would either of you like a drink, perhaps?” Both men declined, only for Tyr to clear his throat and continue. “Well, I know that our nations have all had their histories together, but we face a threat to all of Andlios.”
“I fear that you are correct, Tyr,” the Helgean said, pulling his cowl down. “Oh, I do apologize. I am Dyvel of Helgea. I was also called here by Tyr, much to my surprise. I am the leader of the Helgean Order. We elect our leaders in twelve-cycle rotations, and I am serving on my third cycle at the moment. I do wonder what Helgea can do to assist the Krigans and Cydonians against the Banished.”
“I’m not sure what you can do, either,” Tyr said. “I just wanted to have all of us sit down, the three leaders of Andlios, and have a discussion. It has been many, many cycles since our people have done this, but Andlios faces a threat that endangers everyone on this planet equally. Our problems are in the past. We must look to the future if we want anyone to be around to remember our problems.”
“We are peaceful by nature,” Dyvel began, “but we have been troubled by some of the actions taken by the Banished. They’ve been pushing us back into our territory more and more every day, causing problems for those of the order who are on their pilgrimage and must pass through their new city, Speera.”
“So I’ve heard.” Tyr looked deep in thought. “How about the Cydonians?”
“We are currently monitoring the Earth Ministry forces on both land and in orbit,” his voice droned out from his mask. “We brokered a deal but have been waiting for them to break the treaty. Our technology is far beyond theirs, but we were not prepared for open conflict.”
“Nor were the Krigans,” Tyr said as he pounded his fist onto the table. “This is why we must work together! Even if we are just sharing intel, we need to work together for the good of Andlios.”
“I have connections,” Ingen muttered after waiting for Tyr to finish, “within the Earth Ministry. I’m not sure if you are aware, but I’m technically one of them. I arrived aboard the Omega over two cycles ago and --”
The sound of a mechanical clicking and a whirr came from the Cydonian. He bounded from his seat, and the chair fell back onto the marble floor with a thud as he stood poised, with his pistol pointed at Ingen. “Then why are you in this meeting?”
“Hold on!” Tyr shouted, slamming his pulseaxe onto the table. “He is with me! He has been more help than you could ever ima
gine. The Banished would control Andlios now if it weren’t for him, so stand down.”
“We’ve found the Earth Ministry to be untrustworthy, full of deception.” The mechanical voice wheezed, with his gun still pointed at Ingen, who was standing with his hands up. “You’ve been fooled and placed me at great risk.”
“You need to listen! He is --”
“I know that you don’t want to trust me,” Ingen interrupted. He looked at Tyr, motioning with his head for Tyr to stand down. “I wouldn’t want to trust myself after what my people have done, but I’ve been with the Krigans for two cycles now. I’ve lived within their stronghold alongside Tyr. I’ve fought with them, bled with them and risked my life for them. They are family to me now. You may have had some bad experiences with my people, and for that, I apologize. But they left me for dead, shot me out of an airlock! I owe everything to Tyr and his daughter -- if I ever betray them, my life is forfeit.”
“Very convincing,” the Cydonian said as he holstered his gun. His chair began floating in the air, righting itself and positioning itself underneath him before he sat back down. “For now.”
“Okay, good.” Tyr took a deep breath. He exchanged a look with Ingen, both feeling uncomfortable with the display from the Cymage, levitating a chair like that. They had always heard of the Cymages’ powers but had never seen them in action. It was horrifying and clearly just the tip of the iceberg. “Gentlemen, we need to be allies. There is nothing much else to say. Ingen and myself have been doing our best to come up with plans to thwart them, but eventually something will break. According to Ingen, there should be another fleet on the way from Earth, although we don’t know the timetable.”
“If I’m right,” Ingen began and took a deep breath. “I think that’ll be it -- this resistance will be over. We’re not sure exactly what they’ll be planning, but completely wiping everything out and starting over is an option.”
