Primeval Origins: Light of Honor (Book 2 in the Primeval Origins Epic Saga)

by Brett Vonsik

  A young blond crewman dressed in khakis scrambled up the ladder as the captain surveyed the aft deck and damage the U.N. had caused his ship.

  “Captain, we’re hit badly,” the young crewman reported in an American Southern accent.

  “Doctor Dunkle, I said . . . hop to it!” The captain reemphasized the hopping part of his order. The doctor wore a look as if he heard the captain’s order for the first time. Then he disappeared in a couple of bounds to the ladder.

  “Go on, Mr. Miller,” the captain ordered with a grimace of pain.

  “Main power is down.” Miller tried to sound official. “The fusion reactor is in working order, but the power conduits are ruptured. Its output has been set to minimum until repairs can be made. We’re working to get backup power to the engines and command systems. Both aft mini-railguns are inoperative. So are the antiair weapons. The forward mini-railgun is fully operational as are the other assets below in their bays. We have the old shoulder-fire units available too. The bridge is destroyed and unusable. The auxiliary bridge is fully functional once we get power to it. The diesel engines and QDPS are also fully operational.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Miller.” The captain spoke in an even, stoic tone of command, his rising and falling inflections purposely restrained.

  “Also . . .” Miller added with a hint of his Southern drawl, “our UAVs have located the ‘mother’ and are now monitoring her from a safe distance. Her flags are flying black over blue.”

  “Next time . . . tactical situation first, Mr. Miller.” The captain looked at the young man with a disappointed expression. “Black over blue. I would have preferred the Chinese. Distance?”

  “Twenty-two thousand meters and closing,” Miller replied with heated cheeks and his Southern drawl thicker. “Their attack and boarding craft, two Ghost Gliders, are half that distance. They’ll catch up to us in ten minutes.”

  “Almost no time for it . . . ,” the captain spoke to himself, then raised his eyes to the crew in full command. “Deploy four wave runners on remote. Two assigned to search and rescue of those overboard, the other two with ordinance.”

  “Yes sir!” Miller responded, then was off like a rocket to see the orders fulfilled.

  Nikki watched Miller slide down the ladder to the starboard walkway, then run forward. The young bridge crewman had maybe a few years on Nikki, she guessed, but his responsibilities seemed enormous as a wave of embarrassment swept through her for not achieving more with her life as did this young man. He acted with purpose, where Nikki felt lost since her teen years and more so since her Bubba’s death. Nikki suddenly felt uncomfortable.

  “We’ll at least give a good show at slowing the frigate down.” The captain seemed to talk more to the air than to those around him. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and sink her.”

  Nikki watched the captain give more orders as he looked the deck area over. His crewmen all immediately jumped at following them. A disciplined and loyal group of men. Anders still crouched by her side watching Aren, who stood at the railing on the port side of the deck looking southwest out into the dusk-time sea. The ship not only was at drift, it was turning into the wind from the southwest like a weathervane. Nikki tried to sense Aren’s emotional state, but found nothing to listen to.

  A hailing tone came from the captain’s wrist PDA. A glance at the information display brought a grimace to his face. He spoke to the PDA. “I’ll take the call. Route it to me.”

  The radio message was loud enough for Nikki to hear. “Vessel Wind Runner, you are again ordered to lie to and prepare to be boarded. All other actions will be considered hostile.”

  The captain spoke into his PDA. “Mr. Beckmire, do not reply to the call. As soon as you have the QDPS on line prepare for a max speed dash. Keep all ship systems as they are . . . play dead until told otherwise.”

  Nikki felt a flare of emotions from Aren at the mention of the ship’s name. He knew him too, she realized. Aren now stood watching and listening to the captain instead of the sea. At the mention of making a high-speed dash, Aren’s emotions further flared, troubled and in conflict. The Evendiir wanted someone or something to happen, and his instinct was to compel it, but he fought with himself as to . . . how to behave. Is he stable . . . of a sound emotional state? Nikki worried. An out of control Aren could be . . . She didn’t want to think of it.

  “I insist you find my companion before leaving this place,” Aren demanded of the captain in an even tone that was unmistakably a threat—do what I say or else . . . . Aren stepped confidently toward the captain to emphasize his words. Surprisingly, the captain met him almost halfway and with an even stare, despite his painful injuries.

  “Aren, please . . .” Nikki tried to interject herself in between them to stop an argument that would surely lead to the captain’s death, but was cut off by both of them each raising a hand to signal to her to remain quiet and out of their discussion. Indignity swirled inside her at their casual dismissal.

  “You will not leave Rogaan to this great water.” Aren continued his demand with an unblinking stare at the captain, both of them standing only an arm’s length apart.

  “I have no intention of doing so,” the captain replied with an emphasized singsong inflection returning Aren’s steely stare. “If you both are what I’ve been briefed, the world is about to need you. Right now, I need your trust, Mr. Aren, to get you where I have orders to take you, both of you. Can you give that to me? Will you give me your trust, Mr. Aren?”

  Nikki felt a whirlwind of emotions pummel Aren. Suspicion, betrayal . . . fear, to name a few. Aren wasn’t a trusting one; in fact, Nikki sensed he distrusted everyone, even Rogaan, though to a much-lesser degree. It was almost painful for her to experience his erratic emotions as they spiked harshly before Aren could get them under control. He worked hard at self-control. She wondered how often he lost his battles.

  “Trust . . . nigina. Surim!” Aren spat back to the captain. “Za ina ula su . . . You have nothing to satisfy me you are trustworthy.”

  The captain reached into his right coat pocket causing another spike of emotions to explode within Aren. It took Nikki’s breath away at their intensity. Somehow, Aren fought to control his suspicions and distrust . . . his paranoia . . . but only barely. She felt bad for the Evendiir not being able to trust anyone fully, even Rogaan. Nikki suffered his internal conflict. Is he going to attack the captain? She worried. Aren stood ready if the captain should produce a weapon from his pocket. Instead, the captain revealed a small black cloth bag with a drawstring, one used to carry small objects.

  “A mutual acquaintance gave me this . . .” the captain explained with a confident gaze that hinted hope. “. . . should I need it, to provide you confirmation I can be trusted.”

  Aren cautiously accepted the bag, then opened it, spilling its contents into his left palm . . . a single round and smooth gemstone with jade and pearl halves. A flood of emotions swept through Aren. Nikki quickly felt overwhelmed by them and gasped as she stared off into the darkening sky, unable to move. She lay there semi-aware of her surroundings as if in a surreal dream. A shadow entered her vision. It was unmoving as the storm of emotions raged. Then, the storm calmed, ordered itself, and became controlled. Nikki’s vision cleared, finding Aren kneeling in front of her speaking to her in Antaalin, “Za aste nu palahu we.”

  Nikki felt dizzy and sick. She wasn’t sure what just happened, but she never wanted to feel like that—ever again. She heard Aren repeat himself in Antaalin as her dizziness let up. She swallowed hard, wondering if she should be honest in her response. She decided almost as soon as she raised the question to herself. Filled with fear, she took a chance at it. “How can you ask me that . . . not to fear you? You’re a demigod . . . a god compared to the rest of us. You and Rogaan can do things we don’t even know are possible. You’re the most powerful people on earth . . . and you have a temper.”

  Are
n looked down into his hand at the smooth jade and pearl stone. He smiled. He smiled! Nikki thought the stone flickered with a faint glow for an instant. She dismissed it as her imagination. Aren looked up, meeting her stare with calm eyes, then spoke in English. “No. There is one more powerful.”

  “Mr. Aren, I ask again for your trust.” The captain calmly reiterated his request after breaking into their moment. He wore a serious expression. “They’re soon upon us. I . . . We need your help if we are to get out of this sticky wicket.”

  Aren kept his eyes on Nikki as he stood. His storm now calmed. Nikki felt it, Aren in control of his emotions instead of them controlling him. His mood now had a familiar feeling to that of Rogaan’s . . . determined.

  “I will ally myself with you, Captain,” Aren answered. “And we will help with this ‘sticky wicket’ that is dangerous to your ship.”

  The captain made to clap his hands in relieved celebration, but instead, cringed in a wince of pain. His wounds were impossible to hide without carrying himself stoically. Aren placed his hands on the captain’s left chest and ribs. That black Agni gemstone of his faintly flashed of light as the captain gasped. Nikki couldn’t decide if the expression on the captain’s face was pain or pleasure. That’s how I must have looked when Aren mended me, she blushed. Aren left the captain, walking slowly aft toward the helicopter pad without speaking a word. Nikki felt Aren’s weariness. Healing tired him. The captain look after the Evendiir with a confused look. It lasted a few moments before he regained his stoic composure.

  “Mr. Beckmire . . .” the captain talked into his PDA with his singsong inflections. “Send me the Cuban . . . with those shoulder-launched missile units.”

  “What just happened?” Anders asked Nikki. He hadn’t moved from his kneeling position or spoken during the entire exchange between Aren and the others. “My find of a lifetime that you say is from a time long ago making a deal with the captain of a modern ship I didn’t know even existed before a few days ago and both of them having a mutual acquaintance?”

  Nikki smiled at Anders. “Help me up and let’s find out.”

  Anders supported Nikki as they made their way toward the helicopter pad, around the destroyed weapons, near the poop deck where the Evendiir stood alone. Her left leg felt well, but the right was painful and awkward to put weight on. She hoped Aren was telling her the truth about Rogaan being able to heal her completely. Rogaan . . . a sense of dread swept through Nikki. Where is he? Is he alive? She asked herself, fearful of the likely answers. She looked out into the sea now almost invisible except for the whitecaps reflecting the last of the sun’s orange rays.

  The crew Aren shocked with lightning were now recovering. Most were disoriented and confused. Some wanted to engage Aren again, but the captain called them off of committing that silliness a second time. The Cuban arrived with two long cases Nikki assumed were missiles. She smiled at herself and how casually she now thought of missiles as being part of a normal day. A pair of veiled UCAVs flew around and over the ship. They were invisible to her eyes, but their whining hums gave away roughly where they were. Nikki felt the ship lurch forward as the water stirred behind the Wind Runner. No engine noise. She wondered what the captain was doing.

  “Your captain is ready to try his escape,” Aren informed them without looking at either Nikki or Anders. His stare remained focused behind the ship into the sea where Nikki suspected Rogaan floated. She hoped he floated . . . and was still alive.

  “The amelnakru magan . . . enemy ship is at distance place,” Aren continued his announcing of their situation as he pointed. “Sina adkuds . . . two boats with ursa . . . warriors approach there . . . and there.”

  Nikki followed where Aren pointed, but could not see anything. Are his eyes that much better than human eyes? She wondered as she spoke, “I can’t see anything.”

  A pair of roars from behind them startled Nikki and Anders, causing them to flinch and duck a little. Aren seemed to have expected them and remained unmoving. Glowing flames from the rear of the missiles passed over them out into the almost-dark sky. Their trails were faint, but something Nikki could follow. Seconds later, two explosions in the sky were followed by trails of falling smoking debris. Cheers erupted from the crew behind them.

  “New assembly of ishe santak . . . sky wedges approach.” Aren pointed to the sky off their stern. Again, Nikki couldn’t see a thing in the dark expanse. Seconds later, the whining hums of four distinct flying craft passed by the Wind Runner.

  “Get me more missiles!” The captain demanded from somewhere behind them.

  “Hold, ally!” Aren shouted to the captain.

  Aren focused his attention skyward and stood motionless for a short time. It seemed long to Nikki, but she knew it was only seconds. She felt him searching—then finding what he was looking for with a sense of satisfaction. His mood turned more focused just before he raised his hands to the sky. Nikki felt what seemed like an electrical current passing through her, causing her hair to stand on end. Anders looked at Nikki, fidgeting with a worried, yet annoyed expression, but said nothing. With hands raised to the sky, Aren spoke to himself words too low to be heard by others. Moments later, four wedge-shaped UCAVs fell out of the sky, swallowed by the dark waters just aft of the Wind Runner.

  “They will trouble you no further,” Aren told the captain with a shout.

  “How did you do that?” Anders asked Aren, awed at his manifested wonders. Aren ignored him as he kept his eyes searching the waters behind the ship. When Anders realized his question would be unanswered, he complained to Nikki, “Looks like he only wants to talk to you and the captain.”

  Nikki barely heard Anders and decided responding to him would carry this line of discussion on, taking away from the task at hand. She continued watching Aren closely, without speaking, as she sought to sort out his emotions and try to read him. Aren proved evasive and frustrating. She noted the Wind Runner had picked up speed and now cruised at a meager clip with a totally silent means of propulsion. The ship kept revealing secrets about itself.

  “Oh, surim!” Aren blurted out without warning.

  Nikki felt a surge of electrical current flare intensely around her, prickling her skin and straightening her hair. She looked at Aren who held his left hand open and right arm with forearm positioned as if to block something unseen while facing the gloom off the stern of the ship. His expression grim and his emotions high . . . fear mixed with excitement saw his eyes fixed on the gloom. Nikki just had time to glance to the gloom before a brilliant flash not far off the ship’s stern forced her to close her eyes and reflexively turn away. Moments later, the roar and shockwave of one of those high-speed railgun weapons passed over them, causing her to stumble from the pressure wave. An explosion forward on the ship sent another shockwave her direction, forcing her to stumble back toward Aren. The blast made it known it struck the ship. She looked forward finding flames and flying debris everywhere in smoking trails from the top of the superstructure to the decks and water below.

  “What . . . ?” Anders started to ask, then fell silent.

  “Did they shoot at us again?” Nikki asked Aren with shocked eyes and quivering voice. “They tried to kill us?”

  “Na. Inaa anbar bar su imhas kita sur,” Aren answered and sounding as if he was out of breath. “Ni zagtag.”

  “Flying heavenly metal . . . strike below us?” Nikki tried to piece together what Aren told her. “And you pushed it away?”

  Aren’s face went blank and eyes focused on something very distant as he looked straight through her and Anders. Nikki grew concerned. She spoke aloud before she realized it, “Is he having a seizure or something?”

  “It would be a bad time for it,” Anders told Nikki as he pointed off the stern of the ship.

  Two angular-shaped Ghost Gliders almost undetectable to her eyes approached the Wind Runner. She guessed they were more than a hundred
meters out as what caught her eye were the smooth flying, angled-shaped silhouettes of the boat hulls above the waves and the thin straight-line wakes their foils made on the low rolling sea.

  “Feel the Wind, young Nikki?” Aren asked, deliberately speaking English.

  Nikki looked at Aren who wore a smirk when he met her eyes. Confused by his words, she looked at Aren oddly wanting him to explain. Aren just stared back at her with his smirk. Frustrated, Nikki rephrased his question back at him, “Yes, I feel the wind. It’s blowing my hair around.”

  It was Aren’s turn to be confused. Her answer threw him off for a moment before he put on a look that he understood what the child was saying, but that the child was not yet understanding. He spoke again, slowly, in English, “The Wind rises out of the depths. Feel the Wind?”

  Aren took her hands in his as Anders held her upright. Immediately, Nikki felt . . . something. It was unlike anything she felt before. His reference to the wind had nothing to do with the air above or around her. She felt a presence . . . intelligent and powerful. It had purpose. A purpose partly guided by . . . “Him!”

  Aren smiled at his young apprentice and nodded her success at the lesson. Nikki felt Aren’s emotions, stronger than before . . . satisfaction and a touch of pride for her . . . and his weakened state. He didn’t show it outwardly, but he was not far from collapsing in exhaustion. Aren suddenly broke away from her. He looked alarmed and with a growing anger or frustration. Nikki wasn’t sure which. His eyes again fixed on the gloom to the stern of the Wind Runner.

  “Surim!” Aren growled with gritted teeth as he held his hand open and forearm up. That familiar electrical charge filled the air, prickling Nikki’s skin and giving rise to her hair. “Surim . . . dung.” Nikki smiled as she now understood. Aren was cursing when he spoke the word. A sense of pride blossomed in her at her discovery.