by Kyle Mata
Daena was still heated from the argument, but she had an opportunity to be a part of something that had never been accomplished in history. Forging an alliance between the Nyrotsi, Coalition, Guild, and Shadowri would shift galactic history. If she pulled this off, she could do better than Planetary Senator of Gardenia; she could be Prime Chancellor. Daena accepted his handshake. Thomas then shook hands with Roux and Karr.
“Powa!” Roux exclaimed. “What an unlikely alliance; future historians will relish this event!” A beeping sound came down from the cockpit. “Oh, we’re about to drop from our warp-jump into Atlantis II space. Everyone get secure.” Roux climbed the ladder up to her pilot seat, while Thomas and Daena mag-clamped themselves into their seats. Karr simply locked his boots to the deck. The vessel dropped from its warp-jump and slowed abruptly. “Karr, I still expect you to tell me all about yourself,” Roux called down. Daena shot him a look, which held a meaning that he did not understand.
CHAPTER 8
NO MORE MASTERS
The Mason’s Guild rocket Athena’s Owl entered the loose atmosphere of Atlantis II upon gaining clearance to enter and land. Atlantis II was a class-IV water planet which meant the surface was entirely covered in ocean, with the shallowest point being deeper than one hundred kilometers. Atlantis II was named such because the first planet Atlantis (now known as Atlantis I) was discovered nearly seven hundred years earlier. Atlantis I was only a class I water planet, meaning the surface was greater than eighty percent water, slightly more than the planet Earth, but it was the first ‘water’ planet humans had discovered, and the discoverer was excited to name it such.
A massive artificial island floats at the northern most pole of the water planet. The island, which is called ‘The Lookout,’ floated just under two kilometers above the water, utilizing state-of-the-art magnetic anchors and the natural magnetic currents of the planet in a poetic balance of nature and technology. The Lookout was a half-sphere inhabited by nearly half a million Guild citizens on the flat surface. The Guild built it nearly fifty years ago to serve as a halfway point for traders between the Lance and Archer systems.
Roux landed Athena’s Owl on the docking platform designated in her cockpit by the orbit traffic controller. A crew of maintainers rushed out to begin refueling and prepping the vessel for its next flight as the cargo bay ramp lowered. Daena, Roux, Karr, and Thomas stepped into the misty air.
“Is there anyone here we can tell about the Rae?” Daena asked Roux.
“Well I suppose we could try to talk to the Trade Masters. The Trade Masters of the Lance and Archer systems are here. But I’m not really of a high enough tier within the guild to requisition their time…” Roux said. “You need to be at least tier four.”
“What tier are you?” Thomas asked, watching the hustle and bustle of maintainers and ship crews on the grid-like docking platforms.
“Eleven!” Roux stated proudly.
“How many tiers are there?”
“Fifteen, but only citizens below the age of eighteen are tier fifteen.”
“Well, this is important news, Roux. Would these Trade Masters be able to relay the information to Guild high command or whatever you call them?”
“Oh yes, the rank of Trade Master is only awarded to tier two citizens. They are capable of direct communication with the Executives on our capital planet Aurumon.”
“Well, lead the way,” Daena said encouragingly.
“Okay,” Roux said unconfidently, “But first… maybe you should make your outfit a bit more… presentable?” She pointed to the scorpion tree exoskeleton that had been glued to the Defender armor. Daena blushed with the realization of her unflattering appearance. She had forgotten all about the impromptu modifications she and Karr had added, realizing she looked as though she wore pieces of a large bug. She shed the black carapace with help from her allies before they continued onto the Lookout.
The group made their way off their docking platform and into the busy foot and vehicle traffic. Karr followed along at the rear. He was catching a lot of glances and attention from onlookers, he watched them all in his HUD without moving his head one way or the other. This way he never betrayed where he was looking, a trick young Shadowri learn shortly after earning their armor. He was more used to the attention and whispers from strangers than he was to having companions by his side.
They made it off the docking area, which was quite large, and made it into the ‘city.’ The buildings were all bulbous and white, each of varying size but of similar shape. The windows were ovular and shifted between perfectly transparent and a dull gold based upon the amount of light hitting them. As the team walked about the streets led by Roux, many citizens noticed the foreigners and reacted in kind. Parents rushed out and quickly snagged their children playing in the streets and pulled them inside. Others slammed their doors, either in fear or disgust.
Thomas figured three outsiders armed with rifles and battle armor could constitute a panic in such a place as this. This place was certainly nothing like Fortshione where men and women in battle armor were commonplace, and they were treated as welcomed heroes.
They finally reached the center of The Lookout, and Roux stopped. The largest of the spherical structures was before them. Rather than white like the surrounding buildings, this one was silver. The maroon and gold flag of the Mason’s Guild flapped above it.
Two guards with brightly colored ceremonial armor and shock-halberd weapons stood on post at the front entrance. While Roux found the guards to be quite impressive, Daena noticed how slouched they stood. Karr noted at least three blind spots the clunky armor would cause, and Thomas figured the antiquated weapons were merely for show. “The Mason Executive Guard are a very exclusive organization. One must be at least tier five to even be considered to enter their ranks,” Roux explained as they approached.
“A good businessman does not a warrior make,” Thomas said under his breath to Daena and Karr.
“There’s a reason the Guild always hires its armies,” Daena replied, with a gesture toward Karr. “Can we bribe them?” Daena asked in a lower tone as they got closer.
“Doubtful. While you’ve got the right idea, the Masons never do anything for free,” Thomas said and shot a look toward Roux. “They are notoriously difficult to bribe.”
“I can’t even fathom the amount of raumgeld it would take to bribe a tier five Executive Guard,” Roux added. Raumgeld was the universal currency accepted and backed by every major faction and thus was used by all. Even independent worlds like Shadowri’tira dealt in raumgeld.
“I have a lot of raumgeld.” Karr said flatly.
“Look at this big spender. You’ve got r-stacks, Shadowri?” Thomas joked as they reached the guards.
“State your business and tier.” The female Executive Guard barked.
“Um, we wish to speak with the Trade Masters. I’m a tier eleven,” Roux replied innocently. The guards exchanged glances with smiles. Thomas almost laughed aloud at their pathetic bearing.
“The Trade Masters are accepting none at this time. Please move along.” The Executive Guard woman said, as she waved her halberd toward the group gathered before her.
“Listen lady, my friend here is just being polite; we really need to talk to the Trade Masters. There’s an alien race that is trying to enslave humanity, kind of important stuff we have to relay,” Daena said, stepping in front of Roux.
“Daena, wait!” Roux tried to stop Daena but was interrupted by the Guard.
“And what is your tier?” The Guard woman asked Daena, looking up and down at Daena’s beat up armor and guffawing.
“Tier? I’m not a Mason; I don’t have a tier.”
Both Halberds swung down, just inches from Daena’s face. They were so close she could feel the heat coming off them. Karr immediately pulled her back behind him and stood ready to beat the guards with their own weapons.
“B-By statute 07-2.1b a Tier eleven Mason is only authorized two foreign guests on Mason
Guild t-territory.” The Executive Guard woman stammered nervously, looking up at the towering Shadowri before her.
Karr flicked his palm open, a hologram figure of himself popped up with writing beside it that read:
OFFICAL MASON GUILD WORK VISA
Name: Karr Mun’tyre Guild ID# 35011429
Homeworld: Shadowri’tira
Work Type: Mercenary
Visa Classification: Nomen Scout
Expiration: INDEF
Owner is granted Tier 13F status until expiration
“Only two guests,” Karr said.
“A Shadowri…” The male Guard whispered loudly.
“Ah well… yes, that would make you all well within legal limits,” The woman said with a nervous laugh.
“Trade Masters,” Karr said flatly. Taking a step toward the Executive Guard.
“I wouldn’t upset him if I were you. You know what they say happens when a Shadowri gets upset,” Daena said, poking her head around Karr.
Thomas poked his head around the other side of the Commando and mouthed ‘No survivors’ while dragging his pointer finger across his neck.
“Okay listen, the Trade Masters aren’t even on Atlantis II!” The man said with fear and confession in his voice.
“Carl, quiet!” The woman said, looking around.
“No, Gloria, it’s not worth getting mauled by a Shadowri.” Carl turned back toward the group. “The Trade Masters haven’t been here since the Nomen Rift opened. Gloria and I are the highest tiered on the planet by far, and we’re both barely tier five.”
“What does that mean?” Thomas asked.
“It means they can’t help us,” Roux replied.
“Shadowri’tira.” Karr said.
“I agree with the big guy. Let’s go tell the Shadowri and then we’ll head to the core worlds,” Daena said, as the team turned to leave. “And your bureaucracy is ridiculous,” she called to the Executive Guard over her shoulder as they walked away.
They made their way back to the Athena’s Owl and it looked different.
“Powa! The new upgrades finally got pushed!” Roux said, running over to the maintenance supervisor standing at the foot of the cargo ramp.
“You’re good to go, ma’am. Upgrades 3.2.1 have been installed on your Troubadour-class Rocket. The uh—” The man looked at his data tablet. “—Athena’s Owl. You can now travel ninety warp-jumps and/or seventeen thousand atmo-landings before requiring refuel. Your cargo destined for planet Dreemos has also been routed in accordance with Mason T.O. 00-20-1-3. Your account has been updated and credited the proper raumgeld accordingly, sig please.” He handed the data tablet over to Roux; Roux accepted it, tapped a few holokeys and signed her signature with a swipe of her finger.
“All aboard!” Roux shouted happily while dancing up the ramp. She patted the hull of the Athena’s Owl affectionately. Thomas, Daena and Karr stepped in. The ramp began to close behind them. “Did you know the Troubadour-class Rocket is only called referred to as a rocket because of its shape? Actual rocket motors haven’t been used for space travel since 2052 CE!”
“You’re full of fun facts, aren’t you, Roux?” Daena asked.
“Yes! Did you know that prior to the Zebra Nebula War the Mason Guild had never allowed any foreigners to legally set foot on their territory?”
“That one I actually knew,” Thomas said. The ramp closed with a hydraulic hiss and a series of clanks as the airtight clamps sealed. The cargo bay, which doubled as the passenger bay, was considerably roomier without the cargo crates and pallets that Roux was originally hauling before she got roped into their current misadventure.
She hummed an upbeat tune to herself as she climbed the ladder up to the cockpit. Shortly after gaining clearance, the Athena’s Owl blasted off into the bright blue sky of Atlantis II.
CHAPTER 9
A TIGHT-LIPPED PEOPLE
Roux entered the ship into a warp-jump after they had broken out of the atmosphere. Once all readings indicated the jump was stable, she climbed down to join the others in the cargo bay.
“Well, Karr, care to answer some questions for me now?” Roux asked.
“Sure,” Karr said with a shrug. He removed his helmet and latched it to his waist.
“Oh wait, even better! How about I’ll tell you stuff I know about the Shadowri from my research and you can confirm or deny it?” Roux said excitedly.
“Sure,” Karr repeated. Daena and Thomas exchanged glances of disbelief—a Shadowri was really about to talk about himself and his culture?
“Powa! The only other Shadowri I’ve met wouldn’t even say hello to me. Okay, okay, let’s start with the basics. There are three castes.”
“Yes.”
“There are the Nobles, the Protectors, and the Commandos.”
“They are Guardians, not Protectors, but yes.”
“Really?! All of the Mason readings and holo-tomes said Protectors…”
“Guardians. My parents are Guardians.”
“Okay, well you have a clan-based system, and each clan is a large family that creates its own society and you never really interact with other clans.”
“No, clans are made up of several families; I have clanmates who have no blood relation to me. And we interact with other clans often.”
“Does anyone lead all of the clans, like if you went to war?” Daena asked, genuinely curious.
“Each clan has an Archon, and there is the Gunda’clan over all others; the Gunda’clan’s Archon becomes Gunda’Archon. Gunda translates to leader in human. The Shadowri have never ‘gone to war,’ we have only defended our planet—at least that I am aware of.”
“Who is the Gunda’clan now?”
“It was Xerr.” Karr said without any further clarification. Roux gave him a look of confusion. “But I have not been back to Tira in a few years.”
“How are the Shadowri such good fighters? How do they always defend their planet so well? What about Tirium and the bizarre metal your ships and armor are made of?” Thomas butted in.
“I…” Karr put his helmet back on; it sealed with a hiss. “I cannot say.” Roux looked disappointed and shot Thomas a look of anger for making Karr bottle up.
“Why haven’t you been home in so long, Karr?” Daena asked, ignoring the other two and placing a gentle hand on his chestplate. Karr looked down at her hand and then up at her face; he consciously moved his head, rather than just his eyes.
“I will tell you another time.” Karr lifted his arm and began typing onto the keypad on his vambrace. He started running a diagnostic self-test on his armor. He knew everything was running at optimal levels, but it was something to do with his hands. Daena took a step back and slowly lowered her arm.
A steady beeping started in the cockpit. Roux looked up and headed for the ladder. “We’ll continue this later, Karr?” Roux looked at him hopefully. He just shrugged. Roux looked a little hurt and climbed up the ladder.
Karr was confused by these people; why did they find him so interesting? Why did they want to know so much about him? He never considered himself anything special. His stepfather and stepbrother made that abundantly clear. Sure, he was a good fighter, better than anyone he has met, but they only asked one question about his fighting ability. And he knew better than to share training secrets with a Nyrotsi. He felt better now that his helmet was on.
Daena felt bad. Karr had saved her life and she couldn’t even make him her friend. It seemed Karr was really opening up, and suddenly he had nothing to say.
“Everyone clamp in, exiting warp-jump in just a few minutes. Next stop, Shadowri’tira!” Roux’s peppy attitude returned when she recalled that she was headed straight to the Shadowri home world itself.
CHAPTER 10
TIRA
The Athena’s Owl exited her warp-jump and Roux’s ears were immediately filled with alarm klaxons. There were multiple missile-locks on her rocket, and out of the front viewport she could see a dozen Shadowri gladius fighters, and tw
o Hammer-class gunships rushing up to meet her.
“Karr, I could use you up here. Now!” Roux called down to the passenger bay. She considered taking evasive maneuvers but didn’t want to appear hostile. She also figured she would make it about two meters before her ship was blown apart.
Roux did however get a good look at Shadowri’tira, which was far more beautiful in person than in a holo-tome. The entire planet was a bright blue, due to the ice, aside from a thick belt of green around the equator, with pillars of smoke winding up into the sky. She knew those were volcanoes but could not believe their plumes were large enough to be seen from orbit. Floating in synchronous orbit around the planet were several satellite space stations that housed the Shadowri fleet and acted as defensive weapon platforms.
Karr stood behind her voicelessly. He was awfully quiet for a man in battle armor. A hail from one of the fighters came in; Roux put it through on one of the cockpit display screens. A figure in a helmet like Karr’s, but painted with orange markings, showed up.
“Unidentified vessel, you are infringing upon Shadowri space. State your name and intentions immediately or you will be treated as hostile,” The Shadowri pilot said.
“Can they see or hear us?” Karr whispered through his helmet.
“No, not until I press that button,” Roux replied with a point to a small black button beside the screen.
“Duck. And be quiet,” Karr said, pushing Roux to the ground. He tried to be gentle, but his armor didn’t do gentle so well. Roux stayed on the ground, slightly annoyed, but she figured better annoyed than destroyed.
Karr pushed the button. “Karr Mun’tyre, heading home.”
“Enter your clan code in the IFF transponder,” the pilot said gruffly. Karr typed a long code he had memorized as a child into the ship’s Identify Friend or Foe transponder unit, sent it, and then immediately erased it from the ship’s memory.
