Origin: Eternity's End

by Uneeb Qureshi

  His lungs felt like they were going to tear apart. Babak comforted the man and put his hand on his shoulder, I understand.

  Nearly a season passed in the mountains of Arcadia. Babak had stayed day after day to keep the Spartan soldier and his wise father entertained, he would tell them endless stories of his travels and of his people. Sometimes he would entertain their guests, also of Jewish ancestry living in the lands not too far away. For a time, it was good.

  But it was not long before Lee’s father fell deathly ill. Unable to recover his strength from his years of repressed guilt. His body was irreparably damaged from within, barely keeping him alive.

  For days they had visitors, offering consolation and wisdom in such difficult times. But Lee stoically showed no remorse, he stayed at his father’s side ever faithful and loving. His father whispered words to him every day, passing on wisdom he saw fit for his son. Babak stayed only to decide how it would end.

  “He’s going to die; the wounds he suffered are irreversible. He doesn’t have much higher brain function left.” Said the Immortal doctor.

  Babak was imagining another time.

  “He is her only brother! Is there nothing you can do for him?” Sheppard asked.

  The doctor shrugged, “Comfort him.” The doctor packed his belongings and turned, “Commander he may not know what is happening to him, but if you feel especially guilty for this one then you can make sure he leaves this world happy. Let him pass knowing that there are people in this world who appreciate him...”

  They were in an immortal hospital in a kingdom ruled by mortals. A place where both races co-existed, until Sheppard’s people prepared to leave for the stars.

  The man dying before him was a brother to the princess of this land. A woman who made Sheppard change his ways.

  Over the days since returning from the conflict her brother grew more distant, more forgetful. Until eventually he became different entirely.

  Maybe the doctor was right, when all conventional means fail there is nothing to do but accept fate. He rested his back against a nearby wall and covered his face to hide his senses from the world.

  It was not long before Jo arrived to console him.

  She put her forehead on his closed fists and laughed, “My mother would be proud of the man you’ve become Sheppard,” He grew more distasteful of his request after she said that, “Because you care about others just as much as she would have cared about you.”

  He sat there still, his mind was blank but so was his heart. There was a chance, an experimental therapy but with a heavy cost. It would seek to replace much of his genes in the process, causing insufferable pain and unimaginable changes in the body.

  He returned back into the hospital and secretly ordered his men to prepare the procedure. Though it would cause insurmountable pain he knew he had to do something. Anything.

  He was there when it happened, outside of the watchful eyes of the royal family. For he knew it would work, it had to.

  The prince took the cocktail of medications intravenously with no immediate pain. Doctors waited impatiently, anticipating the worst and rightfully so. Heart palpitations, blood pressure changes, the list went on. They treated the symptoms as they came but were soon overwhelmed. The prince clutched his chest above his heart. He began to moan loudly alerting those in the hallway of the hospital.

  Onlookers looked in horror, his skin turned blue then ashen pale instantly, his breathing irregular. Sheppard stood by his side and checked the monitors. The surgeons hurriedly returned to his side as he went into arrhythmia.

  “Mother…” He began to cry and moan loudly with what little strength was left in him. Sheppard held his hand. He could see his vision was deteriorating rapidly.

  The prince looked at Sheppard’s face, “Mother…” He choked and gasped for air. In his delusional state he remembered his mother before him.

  Meanwhile doctors intubated him and provided continuous air pressure to keep him breathing. Sheppard aided them, keeping eye contact with his weakened friend, praying for a miracle.

  “Mother— why…”

  It was too much for Sheppard. Doctors looked at him for a final decision. Let the boy pass peacefully, or risk a slow painful death.

  Sheppard could not think clearly. He knew he was his leader, he should have given him a painless and honorable death this whole time. Without another thought he slammed a button on the wireless computer panel beside him.

  The room became dead silent.

  Hours later Sheppard grew strangely distant from the fabric of his own reality. But who was he to question anything? He had killed hundreds if not thousands of men by his own hands, and millions more fell by his words. Yet surprisingly, the death of such a feeble mortal had provoked feelings in him that he had not felt since his younger days.

  What did others know of such things? He told himself. They didn’t know him like I did.

  He walked outside and glanced at the glistening waters of the sea that surrounded the island city. In the emptiness he imagined what the prince may have realized the entire time. For a time he watched birds fly across the ramparts.

  He left his home, making his way toward the residence of the mortal magistrate to offer his condolences. But he wanted to visit the prince’s chambers one last time.

  As he approached the doors from the hallway he could hear crying coming from inside. It was Jo, he knew it. He waited outside the door not knowing what to say. Likely the news had reached everyones ears by now.

  He wished the past few days were all a nightmare, something he concocted with his wild imagination. For this was not the first time this happened to him. Death always followed him since he could remember. He only wished he could return to his youth, and died in his village that day.

  He held an emotionless stare as he looked up at the door. The weeping was louder and he realized this time it was real; he would not escape this reality.

  Sheppard stood straight as Jo appeared from inside. She rushed him, grabbing him by the slack of his robes and pushing him against the wall with such force that it nearly knocked the wind out of him. She cried in agony over the loss. Her enraged eyes slowly dissipated. She pounded his chest as she looked him in the eyes.

  “You knew he was going to die! But you put him through that pain anyway!”

  Sheppard looked straight into the room. He imagined the prince still lying in his chambers.

  “You think you can solve everything, but you don’t realize that not everyone can be saved!” She screamed at him, bawling in tears.

  “Why?” She kept asking, she knew he meant for the best but his pride had cost him again this time. “If you loved him so much then you would realize that he was ready for it…”

  She let go of him and hurried down the hallway, coughing on her tears and attempting to allay her emotions.

  Sheppard continued to gaze into the room, he recalled the first moment the princess had introduced him to her brother. A warm smile cut across his face as he recalled those memories.

  He turned to his left and was faced with his dreams once again, the princess stood effeminately in front of him. She carried bouquets of flowers, her brother’s favorite, and wore an ornate headdress given to her by her father. He recalled the head piece, it was his gift to her father as a token of allegiance many years ago.

  She refused to look in his eyes. Her attendants carried her gown as she passed by Sheppard toward her chambers.

  He chose not to say any words. He was not welcome here. He turned to leave.

  “Where are you off to now?” Said Jo in a collected manner.

  He did not turn to face her. “I don’t know...”

  “You’re not going to run away again are you?” She sniffled, “you can’t run away from everything Sheppard, there are those who still look up to you.” She walked past him, bumping into his shoulder on the way on purpose. He really did not know where or what he was doing anymore.

  He needed something to believe in. />
  The spring season fast approached and the day came when Lee’s father took his last breath. “Teach him the ways of our ancestors, make him stronger.” His last words reverberated in Babak’s mind. He did not need to respond, the request was to be honored in this life or the next.

  Lee grieved in silence for his father. The funeral arrangements were made quickly as per tradition, he would be given a proper Jewish burial. Though the people of the region had no rabbi to turn to, Babak accepted the privilege; being absorbed into the Jewish laws and customs for years.

  “Baruch atah Hashem Elokeinu melech haolam, dayan ha'emet,” Babak said, Blessed are you, Lord our God, Ruler of the universe, the true Judge.

  The others present tore an article of their clothing symbolizing the passing. Lee having little on him tore a portion of his Spartan cloak in honor of his father. “Baruch dayan emet,” Lee whispered. Blessed is the one true Judge.

  Those present stood at Lee’s side and recited, May God comfort you among all the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem. With that he was laid to rest.

  Lee hung his head and prayed before leaving.

  “Where are you off to young Spartan?” Babak hopped across the crags in the hill after him. Lee was a dozen yards ahead of him.

  The Spartan was at a loss of words, “Leave me, I wish to grieve in peace.”

  “Come Spartan, grief was not part of your schooling.” He caught up to Lee but was met with a sharp blade at the base of his neck. Babak raised his hands and head, keeping his eyes focused on Lee’s. “When we first met, did I not warn you to be careful with such things?”

  Lee in his short temper swung the blade wildly at Babak, missing many of the strikes. “You’re losing it, your concentration. Did you not learn patience and discipline during your youth?”

  Babak fought back, grabbing his sword arm by the wrist and striking Lee in the chest with his other elbow. Lee dropped the blade and faltered, clutching at the pain in his chest.

  Funeral onlookers hesitated to intervene or get between the two warriors but begged them to stop.

  Babak threw the sword into the field, “Come Spartan, show me the fury of the greatest Sciritae warrior to have been born in these lands.”

  Lee ducked into a low fighting stance and in the blink of an eye locked him to the ground, face-down.

  Babak let out a laugh, “That is the way Spartans fight!” He countered and wrested from Lee’s grip and rolled away keeping a distance from his opponent.

  Babak signaled the funeral attendees to stand back. “Tell me young Spartan. Is this what your father would have wanted?”

  “What do you know of what my father wanted?” Lee yelled.

  “I did not know your father as long as you did, but I can say he was a strong man…and he would deign to see you acting the way you are now.”

  Lee lunged at him, keeping his balance behind him. Babak dodged the initial charge but, much to his surprise, was quickly subdued. He hit the ground face first with his legs and arms locked behind his back. Lee held the position, no matter how much brute force Babak summoned.

  “Good Lee, use it. Use your anger to bring me down… that is how our people have survived for so long.” Lee realized what he was doing and loosened his grip. He did not want to kill Babak.

  You will learn many things from him Lee, listen to him as you would me from now on… He remembered his father’s words.

  Babak used his forearms to pull himself up off the ground. The two did not look at one another. They sat opposite one another comfortably waiting for the other to say something.

  “I could do nothing for him, you know that.” Babak began, “The medicines and treatments we humans have can be limited at times.”

  Lee did not understand his words, but he felt truth in it.

  “He was all I had left in this world.” Lee said. “Now I am a bastard, a grown one but a bastard nonetheless.”

  Babak smiled, “I would not know of such things as a biological father or mother, friend. You see I was born an orphan.”

  “You can’t be born an orphan.” Lee responded.

  Sheppard smiled, he was right, “I was born of some couples’ love somewhere in the lands far to the south of the sea. But I would remember nothing of my life before my childhood. I awoke being tended to by a beautiful young woman about my age. She taught me all there was to know in this world about friendship and the customs of her people…” He smirked, “But I remember nothing before that day. I was born again and most likely for a reason, God had plans for me in that forsaken oasis.”

  For a moment Lee felt guilty, “I am sorry Babak, I truly am for my behavior.” He rubbed his forehead vigorously trying to de-stress, the war and now his father’s death was too much for him. “I know you would not know the feeling but I grew up with my father every day. He trained me and taught me everything there was to know in this world. I feel guilty of speaking about this to you but I want you to know that family meant everything to me in this world…and I’m sure whatever family you have now means just the same.”

  Babak nodded slowly. Yet again there was a person, a new pupil, to pull him out of the darkness.

  “Come with me Lee… leave these lands with me and start anew. I shall take you back to my people and…” He was getting ahead of himself, “If I can give you anything in your life, it shall be a greater purpose than serving only Sparta.”

  “I care little for Sparta’s will. I served it for twenty years only to keep my father’s land and honor. If I can travel with you and serve with you in any other way, I would be eternally grateful.”

  Perhaps you would.

  “My armies could use such a seasoned veteran as yourself as a leader. But until then you will be my right-hand, you and I shall create a new order, a way for mankind in a way the world has never seen before…”

  “But I doubt I shall live as long as you will to see that day.”

  “Perhaps.” Babak said. “But our people have devised methods that may be able to complete your immortality.”

  The thought almost escaped his mind at that instant but he felt he had to tell Lee.

  “And my true name is not Babak. Should you and I travel I’d rather you call me by my real name, Sheppard.” They shook hands again, pretending to have met for the first time.

  “And if I should tread through eternity I would rather be known by my father’s nickname for me than my Spartan slave name. I would be honored for you to call me Lee.” So it had begun their eternal friendship. A talented mixed breed commander of a Spartan regiment had crossed paths eternally with the self-exiled commander of the universe’s greatest armies.

  The two later said their farewells to the remaining Jewish families of Hellas. They would not see them again for the rest of their eternal lives.

  For days they trekked through the mountainous passes and then secretly through ships back to the east. Lee had little to say amidst the journey. He would instead choose to heed his immortal mentor’s every whim. But at the back of his mind he begged to ask one final question.

  “And what of Pallas…Atha?”

  Sheppard chuckled, he anticipated this question for some time since that fateful day they met one another. “I have my whole life to find her, like your father I taught her everything there was to know of this world. And I know for certain she has not passed yet.”

  Lee smiled, realizing his mentor still retained hope in finding his daughter in this forsaken world.

  Chapter 14

  Full Circle

  The Sagitarrius Arm of the Milky Way Galaxy

  Commander Lee and his fellow commander Ali stood in the communications room of their fleet’s flagship, calculating their next decisive victory against their bewildered foes. But today they would have another item on their agenda, an urgent communiqué from a Jump Probe, originating several light years from them. The message was from Commander Jo.

  “Sheppard sends word to maintain your position in the sector, continue to keep the Eri force
s at bay.”

  The message was brief, but within the probe were fleet maps concerning enemy movements elsewhere in the galaxy. Estimated travel paths and positions were then uploaded into their flag ship’s AI, or artificial intelligence program, and transmitted to other ships’ navigational systems in the vicinity.

  Their Jump technology could only transport matter so quickly. But the concept of faster-than-light was a misnomer; light to them was still the fastest particle in physical existence. However their people had developed a way to cheat the system not too long ago.

  The technology rested on compressing all matter and energy in its vicinity into extremely dense singularities in front of and behind the ship, warping the very fabric of space time around them. In the brief moments of the singularities’ existences they would be propelled through space and time, traversing distances previously unimaginable.

  The technology had its limitations however. Such a warping of space time could wreak havoc on planetary or satellite orbits if powerful enough. Likewise the gravitational pull of a planet in the brief instance before the singularity would cause their ships to be launched into an unknown vector in space-time.

  And the radiation leaking from their starship engines were another concern altogether. Yet being immortal had its advantages, limited cell death and growth allowed their bodies to resist further mutation.

  Yet for all the technology’s fantastic application it still required exorbitant amounts of energy, and exotic matter that existed only temporarily at the chaotic center of their galaxy.

  Their mining operations were dangerous, operated only by the hardy and suicidal; convicts trading time, brave adventurers looking for thrills, and those who had given up any hope in existence. Their voluntary sacrifice would ultimately benefit their immortal brethren.

  The Phoenix legions’ recent shipment of the radioactive material gave their forward fleets another year’s worth of short light-years scale travel or, in the worst-case, a brief but rather dangerous escape to an extremely distant location.