Gaea scrubbed her long hair with a growl. “Marna, not that I should tell you how to do your job, but don’t you think it’s time you did something about those rebels?”
Marna was gripping her hair and checking to make sure everyone had been safely warped out before the explosion. It looked like everyone was accounted for including Garn and the prisoner. “Trust me—that was the dark-damned last straw!” She yanked off her helmet and slammed it on the deck in an uncharacteristic display of anger. “Quasar!” She whipped around and pointed a finger at the tarkath. “If I give you martial authority and promise pardons to anyone from the shadow realms that you get to assist, can you clean out the last of these Daergon vermin? I want them gone!”
The female tarkath stared at Marna with wide glowing eyes. “I—” She blinked. She stared at Eclipse who also looked shocked. They both looked at Marna.
The Vatraena put hands on hips. “Well?”
Quasar opened her mouth, then shut it. She drew a breath. “Uh… yes?”
“Yes, what?” Marna growled.
“Martial authority, my pick of disavowed shrike legion veterans,” she sputtered. “Of course.”
“How long?”
Quasar reeled back a step. She shrugged. “A tenday—maybe two—are you…”
For the first time Bannor saw Quasar’s steely demeanor turn tentative. Seeing Marna assertive, forceful, angry… it was obviously a new experience for her.
“I am certain, Tarkath,” Marna snarled. “It’s one thing to threaten me, but to make an attempt on the Eternals and pull us into another war, not once but twice. This farce must be dealt with and harshly. Quasar, I will have the paperwork for you first thing tomorrow after I throw a half-dozen councilors in the brig.” She aimed a finger at the jeweled Kriar. “No more retired-detached-specter-military though. Either you are an active duty officer or you are civilian. Which is it?”
Quasar’s mouth dropped open again. “Vatraena…”
“Yes or no?” Marna snapped. “In or out? Remember, you have brig time coming, so if you’re not going to be useful, you can report to detention starting now. I can get Chauser to do it.”
“Chauser can’t find dug-in insurgents!” Quasar snapped. “He’s barely more than a deck officer!”
“Is that a ‘yes’?” Marna said with a glare.
Quasar swallowed. “Yes.”
“Good,” Marna said with a nod. “Now get those gawkers out of here and get me that damned secure point-to-point. Where the dark is Chauser?!” She slapped her sides. She turned to the Advocate Eternal. “My apologies, Koass.” She looked to Gaea. “Mother Gaea, and the rest of you. Be assured, I want to this to be the last time splinter members of the Fabrista take provocative action against allied representatives.”
“We know things have been a mess,” Koass said. “Hopefully, this extreme action you’ve authorized will net some results.”
“I have tried every legitimate method. These craven spout off about my weakness, about the way I coddle lesser races and drag the Kriar ever closer to the darkness. Time and again, these imbeciles incite strife and attempt to embroil us in conflict in order to get their wrong-headed representatives into power… it is absolutely maddening. How any of my own kind could have devolved to this level of barbarism…”
Koass raised a hand. “Marna, I understand your frustration. I think several of us here could relate.”
Aarlen shrugged. “In my own experience, I found mass executions generally tended to quiet things down.”
Marna scowled at the white-haired woman.
“Such sterling advice,” Elsbeth scoffed with a roll of her eyes.
A low thrumming sound pulsated from Eclipse’s wrist. The Tarkath raised his arm. “Shargris, go.”
He blinked and the jewel on his forehead flashed. He nodded and sighed. “Chauser apologizes for the delay. Apparently, there was trouble at Kul’Amaron.”
The King’s amber eyes went wide. “Please tell me the citadel is still there.”
It sounded funny but Bannor knew he was serious. The grip Sarai put on his arm said she too took that question very seriously.
“Everything is fine. Apparently, the new Sabre-wing unit is already very effective. Stand ready for transport…”
In a matter of a few heartbeats they were drawn into darkness and reappeared in an arrival circle similar to the one Dulcere had taken them too at the Kriar waypoint. The surroundings looked much like any other place on Homeworld. It all seemed to blur together to Bannor. The only difference that jumped out to him was how thick and sturdy the walls seemed to be, colored a flat uniform blue color. Marna had mentioned they were going to a detention facility. The smooth featureless walls with no adornment of any sort reminded him of a large cage. If not for the administrative tables he would have assumed they had appeared in a cage.
Chauser, dressed in full battle armor and carrying one of the big weapons stood ready with a dozen other Kriar soldiers. The surprising thing was that tiny Millicent was also present. The valkyrie commander stood behind Chauser also dressed in a close-fitting Kriar carapace, her wings sheathed in a black webbing. Three of her subordinates flanked her, spears burning and shields giving off a powerful radiance.
“Tarkath,” Marna said addressing Chauser. “We need a tenth order containment unit. Arrange it quickly.”
The Kriar’s black eyes widened.
“Hurry,” Marna said with a grave tone.
Bannor’s attention was drawn away from Marna’s conversation to a swift movement as a dark form took four fast strides across the chamber and a seething blade of liquid power arced around.
The Chyrith prisoner let out a howl, making everyone in the room jerk, including Garn, the blue eternal holding him. All gazes turned to Wren.
“Hellooo,” Wren said, in that skin-prickling echo. She tossed her head, gleaming blonde hair wrapped in shadow. Her normally blue eyes burned like fire. Was it his imagination? The glow seemed stronger than before. “We need to speed this up! Mon’istiaga is really, really hard to control.” She flipped the glowing weapon up leaving smoking trails in the air and rested it on her shoulder. She had gotten very casual with a sword that could cleave worlds in two. She turned to Chauser, who was half way to the door. “Chauser.”
The saber-legion tarkath turned his gaze on her.
“This guy,” she pointed to a male Kriar behind the administrative desk. “How well do you know him?”
The Kriar who was watching them with dark eyes flinched. To look at him, there was nothing out of place or unusual. He was about as typical and non-descript for his gold-skinned kind as they got. He wore the black and silver suit and armor pieces like all the soldiers of the Kriar militia. Bannor did see a flare of red in the soldier’s threads; a burst of perfectly controlled concern and anger that did not show in his face.
Chauser’s attention went to the Kriar Wren indicated.
“Well,” Wren said in that powerful voice. She slashed out and down with Mon’istiaga, causing the air to boom.
The Kriar howled and fell back, his forearm and half-pulled weapon flopping on the deck beside him.
All around Wren, Kriar oriented weapons on the ascendant as she kept her sword aimed at Beltan.
“Your Beltan there is a Daergon,” she said wiggling the tip of her sword. “Mon’istiaga is always hungry for the blood of enemies, so he’s constantly sniffing for them.”
On his knees, the Kriar groaned. Clutching the severed stump of his arm he glared at her. The three other Kriar who had been sitting at the various workspaces behind the desk had taken up positions to guard their comrade.
s head.
“You folks have your weapons aimed at the wrong person,” Wren said, unconcerned.
The ascendant shook her head. “Not going to happen,” she said. “I wouldn’t recommend shooting me. Those blast weapons just make me stronger and Mon’istiaga will annihilate anything that attacks me.”
Beltan snarled. He drew a breath and his dark eyes flashed.
A blast blew the downed Kriar rolling across the floor and sent the three defenders reeling.
“Ouch.” Wren winced. “Did I forget to mention I damaged those matrix stones? Time powers are such a nuisance.”
“Wren, stop this,” Marna ordered.
“You stop it, Marna. You’re the boss lady. Seriously, he’s a Daergon. If you want him alive, you better restrain him.”
“Marna,” Bannor said in a level voice. “I think she’s right. I sensed enemy intent just before she struck him.”
“Well, if he wasn’t an enemy before, he sure is now,” Tal rumbled with a gruff voice.
“Speak Beltan,” Koass said, raising a glowing hand. “Are you a Daergon or not? Eternity can ascertain your innocence.”
“Gahhh!” The injured Kriar launched to his feet and plunged toward Marna, a plasma blade sprouting from his hand.
Startled by his sudden movement, guns already out and prepared, swung in line and fired. The shots pierced his body but didn’t stop his momentum. Bannor never even saw Wren move, but the ascendant flashed into being between the two. Mon’istiaga blocked the arc of the weapon then hacked down through the Daergon’s remaining arm in a spray of white blood.
The Kriar hit Wren head on but might she might as well have been a wall for all the effect he had. He rebounded with a guttural snarl of agony. Wren plunged Mon’istiaga through his shoulder and pinned him to the deck.
The Daergon shrieked, writhing and bleeding.
Putting a foot on the Kriar’s back to hold him down, Wren glanced back at Marna. “Believe me now?”
The Vatraena stared at the agent with narrowed eyes. “Chauser.”
The Tarkath’s gaze went to her, his expression grave.
“I believe Wren has found an intelligence leak,” she said.
He let out a breath and nodded.
Wren pulled the sword out of her opponent and stepped back as the Kriar approached. She put the sword on her shoulder and sighed.
“Wren how did you do that?” Marna asked.
She looked back. “Do what?”
“Warp into his path. Nothing moves that fast without skipping ticks in time,” she said.
“Oh that,” Wren said with a shrug. “That’s what I was trying to tell everyone before I was interrupted. Don’t you notice anything different about me?”
“You mean besides the whole dark and scary thing?” Daena said.
“She’s bigger,” Ziedra said. “Her aura has grown a lot.”
“Mon’istiaga is a busy little sword. He wants to make sure I never put him away, so he’s been destroying all your limiters.”
“Limiters?” Marna said with a raised eyebrow.
Wren rolled her eyes. “Okay, he’s been going through unblocking all those limiters you didn’t put in us, turning on all my powers, evolving this body and making it feel just marvelous.”
“Wren?” Gaea said.
“Mother, I am fine. We just need to hurry. Please.”
Marna turned to Chauser and made a shooing gesture. “You heard her. Hurry up.”
He nodded and raced out of the room.
The Vatraena watched the tarkath leaving for a moment then looked back to Wren. “You can detect enemies now?”
Wren nodded.
Marna tilted her head. She glanced back at the Chyrith. “Stab him again and let’s take a little stroll.” She looked back. “Cere, Zelle, Quasar, Eclipse—we’re going to make sure the rest of the Sabres are pest free.”
Koass frowned and glanced at Wren. “Marna are you sure that’s wise? Mon’istiaga is getting more wild by the moment.”
“Indeed,” she said with a nod. “Better to find enemies to unleash that power on, rather than allies.”
Euriel stepped out of the crowd. “Li?”
Wren met her mother, dropping to her knees to sweep an arm around her. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” she murmured. More for herself than for her mother, Bannor thought. She was harnessing more and more power as Mon’istiaga tried to tempt her with the infinite potency of the first ones.
Wren rose. She glanced at him with burning eyes, then back to Marna. “Let’s take out the trash…”
Return to Contents
* * *
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Gaea and her children have left a
permanent mark on the Kriar. They are our
saviors and our ultimate nemesis. It is a
juxtaposition that will always make our
alliance an uneasy one…
—Marna Solaris,
Prime Counsel dasta Fabrista
Bannor, like the others, spent that next portion of bell in an uneasy watchfulness all gazes fixed on the mangled body of the Chyrith which even after Wren’s multiple assaults continued to reform. The creature was indeed a monster of amazing potency. All the time she was gone, Bannor telepathically lived in Wren, lending her his strength, helping her to resist the powerful lure of Mon’istiaga. She held on with fierce determination as the bindings of time and space grew more and more transparent to her gaze.
Brother, I can see myself. She had murmured in his mind in a voice equal parts awe and fear. He could only shudder and hold on tighter so as not to be swept up in miasma of the sword’s onslaught of ecstasy.
A half a bell seemed like an eternity. After the fall of the first covert operative, the others seemed to be expecting Marna’s agent of absolute judgment. They did not go quietly and tried their best to destroy both Marna and Wren. Despite the danger, Bannor was less concerned with some injury to Wren than her control slipping and his good friend being swallowed up in Mon’istiaga’s destructive obsession.
Three operatives had been eliminated by the time Marna’s clean-up expedition returned in time to seal away Councilor Gharad. They wore grim expressions. Wren’s clothes were splashed white with Kriar blood, her blonde hair a shining crown of shadows that burned and writhed with the energies of Eternity. Marna, and the other Kriar stayed back from her as she moved with wooden steps into the chamber.
She glanced to the Chyrith, sneered and hacked through its magic with a contemptuous slash of her blade. She stared at its twitching body with burning eyes. After a moment, she looked to the cell where they planned to store the creature and frowned. “Guess it will have to do.” She turned her head slowly until her gaze locked on Loric.
The elder actually flinched. The blonde ascendant’s slightest glance exuded menace. She made a hooked ‘come-here’ gesture with her finger.
The gray-haired elder moved toward her, making a show of being nonchalant but his caution was obvious to Bannor.
“Wren?” he asked.
She closed her eyes and pointed to something over Loric’s left shoulder. “Open up the sheath.”
He straightened and gestured. The air near him became a shimmering nimbus like the surface of water.
Wren swung Mon’istiaga off her shoulder. The blade made a growl and flicked up toward Loric’s neck. The elder flinched but held still as the burning shaft hovered hairs from slashing his throat. People around the room made a collective gasp knowing that none of them could do anything—not even the eternals.
The blonde ascendant snarled. “Mon, you touch him, touch anyone, and not only will I never use you again I will take you out to the edge of the Eternity and drop you off in nothingness.”
There was grumble and a shriek of even greater power that made Wren rise up to her toes. “Urgh…” she gritted. She drew a breath, drew back and stab
bed the weapon into the space by Loric’s head, the blade vanishing into nil-space. She pulled her hand out of the emptiness and made a swatting gesture like she were slamming a cupboard closed.
Loric who had one eye tightly shut and face screwed up in a cringe, relaxed.
The dark aura surrounding Wren dispersed, leaving her gleaming like sheets of polished gold reflecting the bright light of the sun. She let out an immense sigh like the weight of a planet had been lifted off her shoulders.
“Sorry about that,” she apologized, giving Loric a hug.
The elder blew out a breath as he hugged her back.
Wren pushed back from him and scanned the room and her gaze focused Bannor. She came toward him and threw a crushing embrace on him. She didn’t say anything, she simply held onto him. He felt the potent lady trembling.
He patted her on the back and smiled. “I don’t know what the hug is for, but I’ll accept it.”
Wren pushed back a little. “Brother, sometimes you’re too modest.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for helping me hold together. That was tough.”
The Kriar finished securing the Chyrith. Gaea sealed the creature with some ancient and powerful incantations that prevented the creature from regenerating through the stasis.
The assemblage stood in the hall outside the containment chamber and stared at the thing that had been their enemy from the shadows. The mangled golden body looked like many other sentient creatures, but it represented something far more foreboding. Senalloy said that the presence of one of the “masters” represented a terrible omen of war; a conflict whose scope went beyond worlds and alliances to a battle that threatened all of existence. The idea alone seemed absurd. Bannor had experienced too much in the last score-day to let denial close his mind though. It wasn’t a matter of ‘if’, but ‘when’.
He looked over his shoulder toward Senalloy who was standing in the back of the group near Dulcere and Corim. “So, how long do you think?”
The Baronian lady trained her violet eyes on him. She sighed and shook her head. “Hard to say. The way we took apart this incursion will probably hold them off a while. Half a decade, a decade, maybe two…” She shrugged. “Anytime is too soon.”
Reality's Plaything 5: The Infinity Annihilator Page 63
