by Kyle Mata
“Welcome, my name is Spartanis, Spartanis Thimma. I’ve been expecting Karr for some time now.”
“Roux Galt. You’re friends with Karr?” She asked, accepting his armored handshake.
“Not yet, but I suspect we will be,” Spartanis said with a small grin. He turned toward the door and waved them to follow. “I’ll lead you both to the med-bay where they are taking him. And hopefully answer any questions you have.” Thomas and Roux exchanged glances and followed the tall man as he walked off.
“So… what are a bunch of Shadowri doing hidden up here?” Roux asked first.
“We have assembled here for various reasons, many of us have been disarmored under the new Xerr regime. But we prefer to go by the new class of Liberator—a fourth caste that is not recognized under the Xerr clan rule.”
“Okay, but why? Why bother with a new class at all?” Thomas asked. Spartanis turned partially and gave a grin toward Thomas while continuing his long strides.
“You probably know the Shadowri to be cold, heartless people, don’t you, Thomas? I’m sure neither of you hold the Shadowri in high regard. They are known galaxy wide for being selfish and cruel. The reputation of the Shadowri is not a good one.” Roux and Thomas exchanged glances, unsure of what to say. “Speak truth, friends, no harm will come to you here.”
“Well, to be honest… yes. Your reputation is not the best,” Roux said. Spartanis looked as though a twinge of pain struck him.
“I know the Shadowri reputation has been tarnished, and it saddens me. Ever since Clan Xerr became the Gunda’Clan so many years ago, they have done a poor job of upholding the Shadowri values.” He approached a door and it slid open. Inside was Daena, recently released, standing beside two others, surgeons, judging by their garb. Karr laid on a surface that was equal parts hospital bed and work bench. The surgeons removed sections of armor from Karr and placed them on a tray beside the bed, treating them with as much care as they would a limb of flesh and blood.
“The Liberators stand for the original Shadowri values, our true values,” Spartanis continued, as he watched the procedure before him. His eyes seemed to be looking far off though. “Hundreds of years ago, the Shadowri were known galaxy wide for being protectors, freedom fighters. Our ancestors fought against the Legnorr in the defense of humanity. Whenever there was a tyrant or oppressor, the Shadowri were there. But then Clan Xerr slowly changed the culture, and over hundreds of years, their isolationist agenda became sick and twisted. Now, any Shadowri man or woman who displays any values of the old ways—the true ways—is quickly disarmored.”
“That’s what happened to Karr!” Daena said, standing up.
“I know this to be true. I have been trying to keep an eye on Karr since his actions on Tique. And even more so now that he has been disarmored,” Spartanis said.
“But how did you know about Karr being disarmored if you are all exiled from Shadowri’tira?” Thomas asked.
“Not all Liberators are disarmored; many walk the planet’s surface. We gain strength and numbers every day.”
“Well, the opportunity to defend humanity may present itself sooner rather than later,” Daena said. “I’m Daena Staal, by the way.” She extended a hand. The large man took it.
“Spartanis Thimma. And I assumed as much.”
“Strike Commander, we have it, when you are ready,” One of the surgeons said, holding up a small vial of blood.
“Thank you, Creseous.” Spartanis took the vial. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be back in just a moment. There is food and drink in the room across the corridor, have as much as you like, please.” Spartanis made a hasty exit and pointed toward the nourishment lounge directly across the hall.
Thomas was ravenous. He was about to head out the door when he noticed Daena remained at the foot of the bed. He lightly grabbed her shoulder.
“He’s going to be okay. Let’s get you something to eat. Floating in space can take a lot out of a girl. When was the last time you ate something other than a meal capsule?” Thomas asked with a smile. Daena looked up at Thomas, then across at the surgeon; the Shadowri practitioner nodded in confirmation.
“Okay.”
The three stepped into the nourishment lounge and found it fully stocked with various food and drinks. Unaware of how hungry they really were until seeing the food, they immediately helped themselves to as much as they could hold. They took seats on the provided couches. Thomas went back for seconds and thirds. Even Roux got up for more. Daena ate a pair of nutrient bars, mainly because she knew she needed to eat to keep her strength up, but she couldn’t help but feel worried, and her worry was stronger than her appetite. She was worried about the Rae, Gardenia, all of humanity—how could this enemy be beaten when humanity could barely get over its own quarrels? And she worried about Karr. How many times was that man going to save her life? How many times before it got him killed?
“You think there’s any place we could get a drink around here?” Thomas asked, finishing his third helping. “I think I could use one about now.”
“There is quite the tavern a few decks below.” The team turned to see Spartanis and another man standing beside him. The other man was Karr. They had barely recognized him out of his armor. He was extremely muscular, and his skin was quite pale.
“Shadowri Whiskey is to die for,” Karr said with his disarming grin.
“Karr!” Daena shouted. She hugged him tightly, unable to see his grimace of pain as he returned it. He was feeling quite sore. While his armor took most of the impact, a weaker man, even in Shadowri armor, would have been torn in half.
“You are one tough man, palbert,” Thomas said, surprised to find Karr already walking about.
“I’ll buy the first round; we have much to discuss,” Spartanis said, leading them out into the corridor. Karr leaned slightly on Daena with his arm around her shoulders as she helped him walk through the station. Despite the obvious height difference and his dense weight, Daena was just happy to help—and happy he was alive.
CHAPTER 20
THE GREEN DRAGON TAVERN
The subsurface station of Liber’tira was an interesting place. A strong majority of the occupants wore full Shadowri armor, but the rest wore normal clothing, some had flight suits, others simply wore nujeans and t-shirts. But they all got along and worked together as one. Spartanis lead the team to the bar. The wooden sign over the door read: Green Dragon Tavern. They went inside and found an empty booth. The booths were abnormally large, likely due to the fact that the usual clientele were armored men and women. Spartanis ordered a round of drinks for them all and then sat down across from Karr.
“Karr, you and I have been destined to meet for a long time now.” Karr just looked at the man carefully over his tall vessel.
“Are you the one who’s been trailing Karr all this time?” Daena asked.
“Guilty as charged. I thought we were being careful about that. I wanted to learn more about him without invading his privacy.”
“Why?” Karr asked.
“The Shadowri on this moon are true Shadowri. We stand for the original values that Tira was founded upon: freedom, valor, honor, strength, brotherhood. Our creed is ‘strength through freedom.’ Some of the values seem to have been forgotten, but not by you. We all know what you did on Tique. The Liberators debated what we could do for those doomed people. We thought that since we couldn’t do everything, we didn’t do anything. But you did, and you made us all feel like fools. You taught us all a valuable lesson, Karr, all because you did what you knew was right.” Spartanis paused. He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Have you ever heard of Kevan McArthur?”
“Like the mythical hero?” Karr asked. “I was told the story as a child.”
“Do you know how the Shadowri started, Karr?”
“Yes, every child learns it. A colony ship leaving Earth during the exodus was knocked off course and crash landed on an uninhabitable planet, they survived, and thrived and named themselves the Shadowri.�
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“That’s not the full truth,” Spartanis began, taking a swig from his dark ale. Roux’s eyes widened, excited to hear so much about the history of the Shadowri. “The Shadowri existed long before the exodus. They were a semi-secret organization; members of the Shadowri worked to rid the world of tyranny, and while evil can never be totally defeated—not for long anyway—they were men and women who never quit fighting it. One of the founders was a man named Anand Thimma. His descendants, along with many other original Shadowri founders’ descendants, were on the ship that crash landed on Tira. They organized the survivors and laid the foundation for our entire history as we know it. I am a direct descendant of Anand.” Spartanis took another thoughtful swig. Roux’s open jaw had nearly touched the table. “Your ‘mythical hero,’ Kevan McArthur, was no myth. He was as real as you and I, and he, too, was an original founder and a good friend of Anand’s. And you…” Spartanis slid a data tablet across the table to face Karr. “…you are a direct descendant of Kevan McArthur.” Karr looked down at the tablet, trying to make odds and ends of the data displays he was reading. It seemed to be a heritage and ancestry report based upon his DNA. Being told he was a blood relative of Kevan McArthur, the first man to ever don powered armor and use it in combat, seemed as likely as him being a relative of Achilles or Rambo. “Many of the men and women on this station have some connection back to our founders—Jason Twombly, Chris Inferno, Sean Hannigan, Dimitri Lievski, and the list goes on. You have the strongest connection to Kevan’s bloodline we have ever seen. And while it may seem farfetched, I do not see any of it as coincidence. I believe it is our genetics that caused us to rebel against Clan Xerr, on some level, and end up as Liberators.”
Karr just sat with his usual look of stone indifference on his face; the only sign he was confused and trying to digest all of this information were his blues eyes rapidly moving back and forth between Spartanis and the holo-tablet. Daena realized what Mory said was true—the more she got to know Karr, the more she realized she was learning to read him. And he did seem confounded.
“While our friend deals with his new identity, why don’t you bring me up to speed on what’s going on in the galaxy?” Spartanis said, turning his attention toward Thomas, Roux, and Daena.
Thomas explained the entire situation with the Rae to the Liberator leader. Spartanis seemed mostly informed, but needed a few holes filled in. He knew something was amiss in the galaxy; he just wasn’t sure what was causing it.
“Are they like the Legnorr?”
“No, not at all,” Roux replied. “The Legnorr were very much like humanity at the time. While they were more technologically advanced than us, they were socially less advanced than we were. It is widely believed to this day that the Legnorr acquired their tech from another species they overran. They were simply a highly-motivated species with a strong desire to spread and grow, not unlike humanity, but when humans tried to discuss terms upon first contact—to share the galaxy—they murdered the treaty consulate. The Legnorr wanted us wiped out and would accept no negotiations. The Rae are highly advanced and seem to have existed for millions of years, before humans even entered space. It seems as though the Rae have watched us for some time, gotten to know our cultures and boundaries. They want to use us, enslave us.”
“The Rae are a serious problem; there I do not doubt you. However, I can only offer you limited aid. The Liberators are only just gaining strength. While we could put together a sizeable ground force, our fleet is still… lacking. And the Rae fleet is currently missing.”
“They tend to do that,” Roux said.
“Well, before we know what their plan actually is, we cannot make any moves against them. So far, all they have done is attack human fleets. The Rae flotilla pops in, wreaks havoc, then vanishes. I also suspect they are somehow influencing certain humans; there’s no other explanation for the rash actions of Admiral Tavington,” Thomas said.
“Well, then, I will muster the Liberators and we will await your call. Many of us itch for an opportunity to rebuild the Shadowri reputation.”
“Spartanis,” Karr said, looking up from the tablet. “Send a party to Shardonilia. The survivors from Tique are there.”
“You brought them to Shardonilia?” Spartanis asked, surprised.
“Yes,” Karr said flatly, ignoring his surprise, and offering no explanation. “They have either been eaten, or they are living a Shadowri story themselves. Either way, please make contact with them. Some may be willing to join your Liberators.”
“I will tell them Karr sent us,” Spartanis said with a nod.
“Karr McArthur,” Karr corrected. He technically lost his clan surname when he was disarmored, and the McArthur name felt like a good fit in its stead.
“A suitable name for our newest Liberator,” Spartanis said with a grin. He then stood to leave. “I must make preparations and see about continuing to piece together a fleet of our own. But first, I must ask, what is your next move? The fate of this upcoming war seems to be linked to yours.”
“I’ll see what my latest intel says,” Thomas said.
“As will I,” Karr said. “But I will need my armor.”
“Your armor will be delivered to your room as soon as it has been repaired. I’ll see to it myself. You all have rooms prepared in the temporary living wing, rooms november kilo one through four.” He placed four key cards on the table. “It is not a far walk, if you wish to indulge in our spirits a bit longer.”
Karr stood before Spartanis turned to leave. He offered an arm. Spartanis grabbed his forearm and they shook. “Thank you,” Karr said, looking Spartanis in the eye. “For everything.”
“I have a gut feeling I will be thanking you when this is all over. I look forward to seeing what glory you bring to the Liberators, and the Shadowri as a whole.”
“I am just a soldier at this point,” Karr said.
“So was Kevan. I thought you were familiar with the old stories,” Spartanis said with a knowing gleam in his eye. “Goodnight, friends.” Spartanis said. They all said their goodbyes as he walked out of the Green Dragon.
“Hey, McArthur, go get us another round,” Daena said with a smile. Karr smiled, too, as he limped up to the bar. Daena’s smiled faded as she remembered his injuries and felt bad for sending him. He came back with four vessels of Shadowri Whiskey, placing them before each of his friends.
He held his vessel up in toast, with only minor strain.
“To the future of humanity,” Karr said. They all clinked and downed the brown liquor. Daena coughed upon swallowing the harsh liquid. They all smiled and laughed at her.
“I think I just drank fire.”
“Weak stomachs aside…” Thomas started with a grin toward Daena, “First thing in the morning, galactic time and local time, thankfully, I will contact Admiral Majex. He is likely back on Fortshione and sorting things out there; then, we can decide our next plan of action.” He waved at a server drone for another round of drinks.
“I’ll contact Mory in the morning, too.” Karr said.
“While I was sitting in the Rae ship’s hangar bay, I was monitoring frequencies and I think I managed to sneak into what appeared to be a Rae frequency. There didn’t seem to be conversations amongst pilots, but one-way transmissions. I think the fighters they used are drones,” Roux explained.
“That would make sense. There don’t seem to be too many Rae, or at least too many that actually are out and getting their hands dirty,” Daena said, remembering how an entire capital ship was run by three Rae.
“War tomorrow.” Thomas said, as the server drone appeared and dispersed four tall vessels and collected the empty ones with long thin cable arms. “Ales today.”
Several strong beverages later the team made their way back to their accommodations. Karr found his armor was already completely rebuilt and waiting on a specialized rack in the back of his room. He had forgotten how nice it was to have Shadowri specialists work on his armor rather than attempting the n
ecessary repairs in the field himself. He decided the armor would be there in the morning and fell onto the inviting bed face first. He was asleep within seconds.
There was a light tap on the door before it slid open.
“Karr?” Daena whispered. She stepped in and found the Shadowri fast asleep. She looked down slightly disappointed. She turned to leave when the door opened again, and Roux looked around outside before stepping in, carrying a duffel bag full of clattering contents.
“Roux?” Daena asked, confused. “What are you…?”
“Daena, I’m sorry I didn’t know—” Roux turned red in embarrassment. She opened the duffel to display the contents, several cans of armor paint and a holo-tome. “I just wanted to surprise Karr and paint his armor…Wait, what are you doing here?” Roux asked Daena with narrowed eyes.
“I was—um—I was just making sure he was—okay, is all, you know, after the crash and...” Daena answered quickly. “And he obviously is, so I’ll just be on my way.” She quickly stepped out of the room. Roux just watched with a cheeky grin.
Then she opened the holo-tome provided by Spartanis and read through a story about the founding of the Shadowri, which included the feats of Kevan McArthur and the original Liberators. Once she had a description she liked, she got to work on Karr’s armor.
The next morning Karr woke up feeling very light and out of place. He hadn’t spent more than a few hours out of his armor since the end of the Zebra Nebula War. He went to the armor rack and saw that his suit had been freshly painted. The entire armor set was matte black, a very different look from the generic metal gray it usually was. On the left shoulder was a green circle with the black letters NQ in it, and on the right shoulder was the original Shadowri shield emblem, which was proudly displayed all around Liber’tira. The Shadowri shield was slowly phased out on Tira for the newer tri-sword emblem when Clan Xerr became the Gunda clan. The Shadowri shield was a white shield with three blue stripes and four silver stars. The two smaller blue stripes represented responsibility and sacrifice, the two necessities for freedom, which was represented by the third larger stripe. The four stars represented strength, valor, courage, and knowledge; the white shield represented the fight of light against the darkness, good against evil. The kite shield shape itself stood as an icon for the defenders of freedom, like knights of a sacred kingdom. The paint job of the armor was like a painting plucked out of ancient history; he knew Roux had been the one to do it. He just didn’t know how she knew about Kevan McArthur’s armor. He stepped into the suit and the nano-motors whirred and sealed it around him. It felt like home. The repairs also apparently came with the newest software upgrades. One of the downsides of rarely returning home was Karr’s armor was never updated. He hailed Mory on the comm through a relay antennae on the station while learning the new HUD configuration.
