by Calista Skye
The people of Telera needed their leaders available to them, not in the prisons of Tavalar. They needed healing from the loss of primal blood the AI versions of the acquisitioners had spilled on Telera one - and no doubt stolen. His people could be protected. Healed. And it would happen with ancestral blessing or not at all.
He had to make his peace with that.
There was no plan B.
Neither his father, his mother, or his brothers had devised one, despite the histories of the eldest of those that were steeped in wise decisions that had saved countless lives. He couldn't understand the silence of his family at so crucial a time, and he could not allow the red-eyed fiends who were at the root of this crisis to undo them so easily.
Sometimes, standing up to fight means bending the rules just a bit.
It was a hard notion for a Teleran, but Kesh knew the difference between what must be held sacred, and what must be allowed the room to prove itself. This new possibility of allowance for the ritual must be given the time it needed to prove whether or not it truly fell in line with the forbidden, or whether it was the product of the sort of thinking that would free them from the chains of antiquated traditions that fell in error when faced with new situations they were never meant to answer.
Unlatching the trunk, Kesh opened to its soft, red interior, his eyes falling upon the ritual shells, waxes, oil, decoratively bottled oils, and Syx stones he would need to erect an altar. Images of old times flashed to mind as he eyed them, the slight plume of memories nudging his consciousness. Memories from the young Kesh who was in awe of it all before he saw the horrors of battle that went on to age him well beyond his years.
He wasn't like Tarik.
Tarik took everything that was not meant to be utterly serious in humor and stride. And even serious things found a compartment in the warehouse of his remembering. He didn't linger or dwell when there was something he could do about a thing. And when there was nothing to be done, he fell into a humility of circumstances with a noble tick of the chin that refused defeat but did not allow desperation to fuel even one more thought or deed.
Kesh had always admired him for that.
He himself had been one to overthink things, learning early on how to tether the searing anger that jerked in his veins for a battle of any size. For him there were opportunities for war at any turn for a short, intense portion of his childhood. Like Doon, he had experienced everything at his edge. Unlike Doon, he had found an application for his force. He'd had so much anger in his younger years until that moment. That moment when he realized what a waste it was to spill your passion upon trivial things when larger matters might be lurking around the bend waiting to catch you completely off of your guard.
Kesh had witnessed firsthand how foolhardy it was to focus the lasers of one's ire on matters that were essentially little hills of unimportance. And he'd learned from those moments watching the folly of others that had ended very poorly for them.
Setting the Syx stones into the ritual formation, he carefully placed the shells at the receptive junctures and the shell at the petition-center.
Drawing a breath and allowing his eyes to slip closed, he went into the still, silent place within him where he stored all that stirred him, slowly drawing up the desperation in his heart for offering at the center of the shell.
Petitions to the ancestors were made in sincerity only, or they would not be heard. And in the truth of his heart, Kesh would not want to offer anything but truth to the spirits of those who came before him, who'd paved the way, who'd joined the all-knowing viewing room deeply tucked beyond the veil of stars.
Willing the energy of his worry for his people, for his brother, who was destined to lead the people, he slowly opened his eyes to gaze upon the shell as the smoky mist of his essence appeared there before them. A dusky plum fog, swirling in a seemingless endless whirlpool of energy hovered there. Deepening its hues to brilliant blue and then gold, it settled there until it hardened against the surface in the form of a Dalyx, taking the symbol of the rebirth.
Tears pricked his eyes as relief flooded him, the essence of the ancestors pluming the ether around him. They were there, and they did not take long to answer him. Unequivocally. They were telling him yes, their own essence having mixed with his to congeal the shape of his petition with their answer in the form of the Dalyx.
The permission they were granting could not be denied.
His heart near to bursting in his chest, he carefully collected the stone, wrapping it in ritual linen, and carefully tucked it into his cloak beside the little red box.
~
Kesh snapped awake in the seat beside Jana, fast-blinking his eyes at the sounds of the balloons being released. His heart nearly burst in his chest with relief. They'd made it past the asteroid belt. He'd known they'd been granted their protections, but it was an added relief to see it manifested. They'd be fine. All that was left now was to rest briefly, gather his spirits for the ritual ahead, and draw the girl back into the corporeal world through a rebirth sanctioned by the ancestors.
His fingers found the box in his pockets, and he thumbed it gratefully. He didn't retrieve it until Jana had fallen into a short slumber when the agreed watch shift fell onto him.
Stealing a glance her way, he pulled the crimson box from his pocket, thumbing its clasp before gingerly parting the box, opening it to the padding where the single scarlet hair rested at its middle.
5
Ayanu
The first prick of light was fleeting, coming to greet her somewhere in the endless dark she'd found herself shoved into. It woke her enough to confuse and remind her that she was somewhere she was not meant to be. That she was in a foreign place where there was no connectedness available to her, not of body or community. Not of destiny.
Her first attempts to stir her willowy essence enough to bang against the cold metal enclosing her were futile, nothing like the larger hunk of metal she'd struggled within before. She strained to remember... there was something she needed to remember. But it flew away from her every time she bore down upon it, never revealing its name or place or purpose.
And then there was the cold stillness with even less a name than where she'd found herself a moment before. A trapping place of frozen time that made the travel of her thoughts sludge-like and incoherent. She suffered there for what seemed like forever, as it had before.
And then the burst of light came for her again, bigger and brighter then. Warmer. Her thoughts frenzied as if taking on their own life, shouting their ideas at her. Notions and possibilities she did not have the wherewithal to piece together in that moment buzzed about her like moons orbiting a bursting star out of touch with all of its shards.
A fizzing buzzed so loudly she recoiled, but there was nowhere to go, no way to retreat. Unable to grip anything substantial to still herself, to block her intake of the cacophony, her essence began to convulse with it. And it only intensified. Taking on sounds that repeated themselves with a maddening monotony.
Gather your cells.
Gather your cells.
Gather yourself.
The urge to flee was overwhelming, but where to flee? How to flee? The buzzing continued, now taking on a slightly different tone. A different arrangement of sounds.
Unlawful was your removal.
In law you shall return.
Heat accompanied the buzzing now, so hot it was cold, and so powerful it coursed through her, intent as with its own mind following a determined track. It journeyed to depths she had forgotten were a part of her, territory where she had forgotten her essence rested. Now it crackled with the heat's kiss, inspired and uncoiling, determined though without clear purpose.
Resume your path.
Reclaim your birth.
Step from your death.
Sounds that echoed her memories with meanings she couldn't quite unravel. The faint nudge of understanding, or once-understanding circled her, poking her with urgency.
Remember.
Straining, she stirred in the whirlwind that wrapped her essence, like a fiery net sucking her into its grooves.
Remember who you are.
Railing against the net only sucked her in deeper, and nothing she could do seemed to stop its inward pull.
Stand in your place.
The sounds struck something in her, something in her center, a center only now coming into awareness, itself ignited by the fire of the net and the fire circling within.
Stand in your place.
The sounds repeated themselves, impassioned, urgent, insistent.
Stand. In. Your. Place.
A snapping pop resounded her consciousness, reverberating through her essence, and then the fire ebbed, leaving her energy humming, coiling, and then still. Again.
6
Kesh
Kesh sat beside the still form of the Tavalar girl with a drawn expression, exhausted beyond imagining. Well, that wasn't exactly right. She wasn't Tavalar. He'd felt that as he worked her essence, pulling it out from its hiding place in the ether, drawing it through the porous netting of the metal box the acquisitioners had her housed in.
It had been a struggle at first, but he'd managed to grab hold of her essence and infuse it with the life needed to free her of their depraved box. Hopefully before they could track her path to the drifter.
The girl's essence was... special. Unlike anything he'd ever felt. She was an amalgam of species boiled into one. But most notably, what he sensed in her felt much like the human part of his brother's intended's essence: Shala. The rest was certainly off-Earth, but he was not sure where her origins lay. One thing was for sure: She did not contain a speck of Tavalar blood in her DNA.
She contained nothing more than Tavalar conditioning in her consciousness, and even that did not have as strong a hold as the malicious programming of the acquisitioners.
That, Kesh knew, would be a problem.
Whatever they'd embedded in the depths of her psyche would most certainly follow her back. And if they weren't very careful, it would be the end of the only chance he and Jana had to liberate Tarik of the fast-clutching talons of the Tavalar enforcer and the potent authority of the Allied Forces that he wielded.
"How long before she wakes?"
Jana.
The last rasps of sleep clung to her voice as she approached, entering from the control room behind them. That meant it was his turn to sleep, though he couldn't imagine doing such a thing after such an involved ritual. The enforcer's daughter was still gelatinous, her likeness obscured in the light of charged spirit coming to life inside of her new vessel, learning how to bind itself to the mortal coil once again.
His blood would run through her veins now. The ritual would not have succeeded had he not concentrated his energy upon it. And that would bind them for the rest of her days. At another point in time that might have scared him. Now, it was a very small price to pay in light of what might be accomplished if they were successful in bringing her fully back and helping her heal the hole that had allowed the acquisitioner's malicious program to settle in her consciousness just over the gland responsible for the chemicals vibrating with her perception.
Maybe, she would wake in another day span or two. It was difficult to tell. She would at least settle into her form by star-rise, and they would look upon a face and limbs instead of a long mass of gelatinous light.
Nearly jumping at the feel of Jana's hand on his shoulder, Kesh drew a resolved breath and rose. She'd insist on his sleep, and whether he'd achieve it or not, he'd be foolish not to try.
"A few days, perhaps," he half-whispered, far away in his thoughts and extremely delayed in his response.
"Plenty of time to get your bearings. We should be close to Kalek Sho by then. We might find a lodge to dock in."
Realizing his exhaustion, Kesh managed only a nod in response as he rose and trudged to the command room, lowering to his seat and falling out of consciousness the second he made contact with it.
~
"Kesh. Kesh!"
Snapping awake, Kesh blinked his way to awareness at the feel of Jana shaking him.
"She has a face now."
Those words had him instantly alert, and sharing a crick of a smile with her, he made his way out of the control room with fire on his heels. Unfortunately, that only resulted in more waiting when he arrived at the girl's side. Though it wasn't the worst wait he'd ever experienced.
When his eyes rested on the enforcer's daughter, his heart chugged heartily in reaction. The Tavalar girl was striking, more beautiful than he'd noticed when he'd plucked the fiery strand of hair from her fallen form, before his brother had brushed him away from the scene.
He'd avoided taking too long a look at her then, hadn't noticed how gorgeous she was. It was no wonder the acquisitioners had taken such a fancy to her. As sick as it was, someone with her beauty would fetch a serious sum on the undermarket.
Any moment now, she could awake, parting her lush lips to ask him who he was and what she was doing there, perhaps. Or maybe she would lift the curtain of lashes covering her eyes and remember him. It wasn't a thought that sat well with him, and he found himself begin to struggle with the conflict of both wanting her to awaken, and wanting her to sleep before he could straighten his head around it.
Everything could be explained, right?
Besides, there was no true reason to worry about her reaction. She'd be a while regaining her full recollection, and by then, he'd have time to win her trust. If the acquisitioner's programming didn't kick in before he could manage it, of course.
The thought of the poison seeds they'd planted in her psyche haunted him. He had no real way of knowing what to expect from her. She could wake sweetly, ready to be molded, or the beast within her could wake first. He'd need Jana by his side for the latter scenario, but he hoped with the granted protection of the ancestors that they'd all be spared that experience.
Taking a seat and resting his chin on his hand he watched her awhile more, waiting until starset to rise and pour a calming tea into the flask he'd had the forethought to pack. They'd need lodging soon. With three mouths to feed, they'd run out of supplies sooner than they'd packed for. There hadn't been time enough to load a cart. Everything they'd taken had been carried by hand, and they'd soon surely barrel their way through it.
The enforcer's daughter could have an appetite that little of what they had available would sate. He hadn't thought about that while he was packing, but even if he had, there'd have been no way either he or Jana could have prepared for it in time.
By the time his shift was up, Jana shuffled her way back into the rec room, stretching and yawning as her eyes set on the enforcer's daughter.
"There are two lodges on the radar. Neither of them seem especially desirable."
Kesh rose from his seat.
"How many days out?"
"One day span. Two or three at most."
Kesh exhaled his relief.
"Perfect timing. Thank the ancestors."
Jana's eyes flicked to him then settled on the sleeping girl.
"Quite pretty, isn't she?"
Kesh suppressed a blush.
"Yes. Fetching."
Quirking a brow, Jana grinned at him knowingly. "You'll want to get your sleep."
"Oh I think we're too close to her waking for that. I'll have to power my way through this one."
"Have you recovered yourself? The ritual-"
"I don't need to sleep for eight day spans to recover from that. It's fine... I'm fine."
Kesh ran his fingers through the dark gloss of his hair, his eyes averting to the enforcer's daughter before returning to Jana. She met his eyes boldly, giving him that serious look she had a tendency to get in her brilliant eyes.
"Sleep. I insist."
"There's really-"
"If the lodges are as bad as you seem to think, we'll need to be alert when we arrive. And we still don't know what to expect from her, do we?"
Her eyes set on the enforcer's daughter once more before finding his again.
"What do you mean?"
Jana frowned.
"Was she not programmed to act as an infiltrator? What other directives is she carrying around in her consciousness?"
Kesh frowned.
"All the more reason for me to be here if she wakes."
Jana grinned, her eyes glinting with a cynical light.
"Is that truly why you'd be here when she wakes up?"
"Why else would I insist?"
"Perhaps to be the first face she sees when she awakes?"
7
Ayanu
Ayanu's eyes squeezed shut the moment the light hit them. Eyes... she blinked them rapidly, turning with strain at the sound of a gasp. An instant burst of pain filled her frontal lobe, enough that her legs curled up toward her belly. Realizing them, she quirked a brow. Where was she, and who was the man set at her side, staring at her with a mix of fear and relief?
And where had she been... all this... time? Stealing a careful glance around her, she parted her lips to speak, but not one sound came out.
Where were her words?
"Rest. You've had a long journey," the man said, his voice a rasp of dusk and velvet.
Pursing her lips, frustration gathered in her gut. Her thoughts were a jumble. Every word she attempted to form ebbed away like a half-wave not fulling connecting with the shore. She couldn't... she couldn't even remember her name, she realized with a soundless gasp.
The man seemed to surmise this.
"It will be some time before you fully gather your head. Allow yourself to rest, and everything will piece itself together soon enough."
Her brow strained in question, and he seemed to read her very thoughts. Again.
"You've been through quite an ordeal. It won't make sense to you yet, but it will. I'm here to help. We're here to help you."
