Blade of the Lucan
Author: Greg Dragon
Date: 2015-11-06 05:00:00+00:00
Description: Marian VCA is no ordinary huntress!When a cruel tyrant and his armies wreak havoc in Luca, countless lives hang in the balance. One woman - Marian, a Phaser - has made it her mission to bring down the sadistic war monger Palus. With fellow Phaser and friend Marika by her side, they will stop at nothing to find the elusive tyrant and assassinate him. Doing so will be no easy feat. Palus has informants at every turn, hindering Marian's mission, but soon he will discover that Marian and Marika possess mysterious skills that could enable them to succeed and defeat his armies. Can Marian and Marika
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Copyright © 2015

Thirsty Bird Productions

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in retrieval systems, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recorded or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.

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Memory 1

The snow fell loose and light across the rocky landscape of Elas, Genova, when suddenly a distortion appeared in the atmosphere, as if life’s canvas was being cut open. Marian VCA stepped through this hole, this mysterious portal, and when she fell onto the snow, she ran around, desperately seeking shelter.

She hugged her bosom and shivered violently as the cold wind’s invisible knives punished her for wearing a dress and bedroom slippers. Genova was the last place that a Phaser teleporting in to Luca would want to visit, but Marian lacked the skill and experience to control her teleport jumps, so here she stood, a milk chocolate popsicle in a long green dress.

The sky stood cloudless, a tapestry of stars, moons and manmade transports, but Marian was shivering, and hyperthermia was a reality. In the distance, between the gusts of wind that played at obstructing her vision, she could make out the outline of a dome. She pushed forward towards it, her dress making her movement slow. It was unlike the tight, warm, 3B suit she was used to, the uniform Phasers typically wore on missions such as this.

When she reached the exterior of the domed structure, she looked around until she saw the outline of a door within the smooth, white surface. She slid her hands desperately along it until the edges lit up, and breathed a sigh of relief as the motors started working inside of the walls.

Before long, the door slid into the ground and Marian ran inside the chamber as it shut quickly behind her.

It was warm and heated inside, and she rubbed her numb hands and danced around to bring back feeling into her frozen limbs. Her toes felt as if they belonged to someone else. Sure, there was some feeling when she wiggled them inside of her slippers, but it was taking a long time, so she reached down to massage life back into them.

She caught sight of her own dress and cursed. Why hadn’t she worn something more appropriate for a mission? Why did she let anger, frustration and reaction send her to the crystal room prematurely? She was upset, that was understandable, but surely the Phaser, that rational thinking part of her emotions would have forced her to grab a 3B suit wouldn’t it? She rummaged through her backpack to see if anything could help, but eventually she gave up and went back to rubbing at her toes.

When her body was warm and she could wiggle her toes without them hurting, she pulled a pistol from the small of her back and started walking down the narrow hallway. Lights on the inside of the dome revealed walls covered with circuits, and the hall she was in was very narrow. After a while she determined it was spiraling inward and that eventually she would reach the center. She put both hands on her pistol and held it in front of her at the ready.

When she got to the center she found it empty, save for a chair, a panel, and a soft voice repeating something over a set of small speakers.

“Is anyone out there? This is Amanxa. Please answer! Is anyone out there? This is Amanxa. Oh, do answer! This is Amanxa Lux, we are dying, please answer…”

The voice wavered, and the woman was speaking rapidly, too rapidly for Marian to understand everything she was saying. The dome was not the first one Marian had encountered in her lifetime. She recognized it as one of many intelligence batteries that the resistance used for communication. A long time ago—when she was living in this galaxy—she had heard about the domes and their strange technology.

She waved her hand rapidly across the panel until it lit up and the face of a pale, Tyheran woman appeared. Her face was tightly drawn and sharp cheekbones jutted out from what would have once been considered a pretty face. Her eyes were wide and they barely blinked. As she stared into the holo-comm, the blue light gave her face a cobalt homage to the spirit of death.

"Hello, hello, who are you and what's your situation?" Marian asked, happy to be speaking in her native Tyheran tongue once again.

"Thank the skies, someone answered! Look, whoever you are, we need help. The Fels have arrested and executed Barrium. We are unable to leave the city and there is no water, no food. Th-they are torturing us and they have a force field up, preventing anyone from leaving. They executed Barrium in front of all of us as an example, and now they are making us pay by starving us!” Amanxa Lux screamed.

"Okay, stop shouting, girl, where are you? I don’t know a Barrium: was he your husband or your leader? I am not from here, but I am here to help," Marian said.

“I am in the city of Astuif, on the moon of Talula,” Amanxa answered.

“Ohh, lovely Talula. I know where you are. How many Fels are out there? Maybe I can call the resistance to come and rescue you,” Marian said.

There was dead air over the speakers and Marian heard a heavy and disappointed sigh from Amanxa.

“Where have you been stranger? On the planet Fahree, meditating in a cave for the last three years? There are no resistance fighters to save us. Palus Felitious scattered them and they all took off to any planet that would have them. Astuif lies in ashes, and we are what’s left of the resistance that you remember on the moon.”

“Bomb? What sort of bomb would they use on a moon?” Marian asked, furrowing her brows at the concept.

Amanxa appeared as if she wanted to spit the words out but could not summon enough saliva to complete the act. Her lips trembled and a tear fell from her eye as she forced out the words. “It was a scortchet.”

Marian could not believe what she was hearing, and she tried in vain to imagine the aftermath of the oxygen-sapping firebomb known as a “scortchet.” Talula was a tiny moon, and a scortchet had incredible reach. To hear of such a weapon used on a city was so unbelievable that she sat quietly for a time with her mouth open.

When she and Rafian—her husband—were resistance fighters and lovers, they had left their comrades to jump to the galaxy of Anstractor. At the time the resistance was at a high point. The Felitians feared them, and the moon of Talula was theirs in more ways than one. Her brown eyes, which normally twinkled with the tiny, star-like lights of her Tyheran heritage, now grew dark as they narrowed. A muscle twitched in the corner of her mouth, and her fleshy lips, which normally held a look of indifference, twisted into a frown.

Her friends had died, and it wasn’t from a battle where they could be honored as warriors. No, it was from a bomb – possibly launched from the planet of Tyhera, since it was where the Felitians ruled, and the only place that could pull together the resources. She thought about what would have made the Fels decide on so drastic a move, and it dawned on her that the rebels must have all retreated to the moon.

Wiping out the resistance leaders in one area was too good a chance to pass up and Palus Felitious—Emperor of the Felitians—would have jumped at that chance, instantly.

Marian’s mind switched to her Casanian friend, Marika. They had jumped to Luca together, and she had suggested that they land in separate areas. Marian had tried to jump alone when she saw Rafian in the arms of another woman, but Marika had caught her before she reached the crystal and reminded her that they had intended to visit Luca together.

They were friends, these two deadly women; more than friends, actually. Marika was her refuge. Whenever Rafian would break her heart Marika was there, and whenever she needed a friend to boost her up, all she had to do was tap her comm.

Marika was to find them a good transport and learn as much as she could about the situation. Being Casanian on Luca—with no races or species that looked anything like her—meant that blending in would prove a challenge. Marian was worried for her—especially now, with this news of the resistance being over.

“Things are really bad,” Marian mumbled, forgetting for a moment where she was.

Amanxa spoke again. “I know it is a lot, and I know you cannot help us, but we will die unless someone does something. Can you call someone out here? Please. What is your name?”

“I am Marian, and I am going to travel to that moon and find a way to help you, Amanxa,” she said.

“How? Don’t be silly,” Amanxa scolded, though her soft voice made it sound sweet and caring. “You cannot come for us by yourself. They have patrolling guards, tracking towers; not to mention, no rebel is safe on this moon. No, you need to call in the Lochte rebels, the Fahree monks, or any one of our allies on the twelve planets.”

“I don’t know any of them, but I think you should try and stay strong until me and my partner can liberate you from the Fels,” Marian said.

The speakers went quiet as Amanxa sat looking off to the side. Eventually she nodded, and reassured Marian that she would stay strong.

“Marian, are you inside that buried egg?” asked a sultry voice inside of her ear. Marian recognized it immediately as Marika on her nano-comm, a small device that was implanted in the ear. It was a Vestalian military tool, which negated the need for bulky comms and other cumbersome, communications equipment.

“Yes I am,” Marian replied. “It’s a communication tower, believe it or not. Where are you?”

“I’m outside in a rather fancy-looking spacecraft,” Marika joked. “I lifted it off two soldiers.” She giggled heartily and then inhaled. “They were so smitten by my exotic beauty that I was able to tie them up with relative ease,” she said.

“You should have murdered the bastards,” Marian said.

“I don’t kill without reason – you know that. Now hurry up and come outside so you can see it. I need a shower and a change of clothes, and I am more than positive that you do, too,” Marika said.

Marian looked back to check on Amanxa, but the holo was off and a red light indicated that the signal had been lost. She powered down the receiver and then ran quickly back through the spiraling hallway. When she reached the door leading out, she remembered how cold and numb her toes had become. She furrowed her brows and bit down hard, then opened the door to the cold night air.

The wind felt like an icy cold blanket thrown over her body as soon as she stepped out, and she covered her face to block the icy air. There was a hovering vessel, loud and massive in front of the dome, and when Marian chanced a glance, she saw the familiar outline of Marika’s face.

The ship looked like a giant dragonfly, and its bright, white exterior made it almost invisible against the snowy backdrop. Marian jumped up, pulled herself on to one of its legs, and climbed inside to rejoin her friend.

“Thype, its cold!” she exclaimed suddenly, and then punched the heads up display out of frustration.

“Whoa! Don’t go breaking this beautiful piece of equipment, cruta!” Marika cursed. “I just got it new and I want to keep it that way. Those former owners did a bang-up job of keeping it clean.” She flashed a pretty, fanged smile across her spotted, red-toned face.

“Those crutas killed all of my friends, Marika. They set an entire moon on fire and now we have to find a way to rescue the last of them,” Marian said.

“So, how do we do that, Rhee?” Marika asked. “I have no idea where we are, much less where this moon is. Just tell me your plan, okay? We’re Phasers, we’ll find a way to get it done.”

“Thype that Palus and his army of murderers!” Marian screamed and slammed her fist into her leg. Marika reached down and took hold of the fist, and then stared at her until Marian decided to calm down. She relaxed her fist and took a deep breath, smiling slightly as she stared into the large black pools of Marika’s eyes.

“I’m not from here, Marian, but I’m here for you no matter what you choose. Give me something to understand this emotion that threatens to unnerve you; tell me about this Palus. Why do you hate him so much?” she asked.

Marian thought on the word hate. It seemed appropriate for what she felt within her very soul for Palus Felitious. Hate was an emotion that she knew well, but hate wasn’t strong enough a feeling for what she felt. It was another emotion, something more formal and necessary.

She began to talk, not taking her eyes off of Marika’s, as if she meant to embed her words into the woman’s brain.

“When Rafian first came to my galaxy, Palus was ruler of all planets,” she began. “In that time, many people were happy, including my family. We were good citizens; at least my parents were. They did whatever the law said to do.”

She stopped, sighed, and then looked out at the snow as she recalled the history. “These laws included having a photograph of him in every house, paying heavy taxes, and giving up our eldest sons and daughters to Lords and Ladies that needed heirs.”

Marika seemed puzzled, then smiled and shook her head. “So, why exactly was this guy allowed to do all of this?" she asked.

“That story is even longer than I have time to tell, girl,” Marian said, and she seemed to stare through Marika as she sat with her fist in her hands. “Plus, it’s one that I never got the full explanation for. Just know that I was one of those daughters in line to be connected to one of Palus’s Lords. Because of my father and his service, however, I was allowed to do what I wanted to do. They gave me a royal title – Baroness Rienne, so that my children would be lords and ladies.

“Look, Marika, we’ve been intimate, so I trust you enough to share this with you. Being part of a tyrannical ruler’s party is not a part of my history that I want the Phasers to know,” she said.

“Come on, Rhee, you don’t have to put security on secrets with me. Heck, you know enough of mine to end me,” Marika said, and Marian smiled at her words.

“When Rafian came into my life he opened my eyes, and when I saw what was going on around me, it upset me. At that time Rafian was one of the resistance leaders, but he risked his position to take me, an enemy woman, into his arms and make me his wife,” Marian whispered.

“Are you okay?” Marika asked, glancing around out of habit. They had been sitting in the cockpit for what seemed like a really long time, and it made her feel extremely uneasy.

“It’s just Rafian. Sometimes I forget what we went through to be together,” Marian said. She closed her eyes and inhaled the warm air of the cockpit vents.

“You know, back then I thought we were the good ones … the Felitians, I mean. I thought we were helping people and that the rebels were just fools that didn’t want things to change. Rafian helped me to see the truth, to see what was going on when you peeled back the layers.” She began to hit her knee with a balled up fist, and though Marika found it annoying, she let her continue with the story.

“Palus took power to suit himself, and was hurting and killing anyone that disagreed with his politics,” Marian said. “I was helping this creature to murder people, Marika. I was raised in that culture of hate, thinking myself a privileged member of his Utopia.”

“So, he killed the enemies of his regime. I’m still not getting the evil part of what this man’s about, Rhee,” Marika said.

“You’ll see it for yourself in time. After the resistance got some traction and people began to push back against his policies, Palus reacted in the worst way. He organized troopers to go after rebels no matter where they were. They would kill innocents, leveling villages and cities, just to get at a few resistance members. We need to get the leaders talking, Marika. I haven’t been here in a long time. If we cannot find anyone, then we will need to jump back and talk Tayden or Camille into letting us bring an army of Phasers here.”

“Or, you could just talk to your husband,” Marika said under her breath.

“I don’t want to talk to Rafian because he will make it about us. So, let’s see if we can reach the rebels. After we’ve done that, we need to fly into Talula and get those people out quietly, then see if we can smuggle them into Tyhera,” Marian said.

Marika squinted her black eyes and her face seemed to darken as she stared at Marian. But Marian was touching the panel in front of her, plotting a course to what looked like a tiny island on a planet that resembled Vestalia.

“Marian, this isn’t going to work and you know it,” she said. “You don’t know where to start in contacting these resistance leaders, and even if you did, they don’t know you from a Felitian spy. Think, Phaser! This is going to take an organized plane-jump. It will probably take over eighty Phasers and a good chunk of the main warp crystal. You and I both know that only Rafian VCA can authorize that. Tayden Lark would laugh us out of her office. It is going to take some real convincing to pull them away from the Geralos, which we both know is the priority where they are concerned. And you will have to play nice – with Rafian,” she said.

“I don’t want to hear anything more about Rafian, or Tayden for that matter,” Marian said. “They can stay in Anstractor and thype each other’s brains out for all I care. I need to see to my people.” She punched the console so that the ship’s engines came alive and then glanced over at the spotted assassin.

“Marika, we’re all they have and I imagine that it might take us several days. The citizens of that city will be hurting by the time we get there, but we must get them out. Then both you and I will need to find Palus Felitious and make him answer for his crimes!”

Marika waited for Marian to finish her orders and then watched her fight against the cold and emotion that racked her body. Marian saw her staring and made a face. “So say something, cruta. Are you with me or what?” she shouted. “Ugh, I know my plans are garbage, but we need to do something. Look, it’s why I brought you along to help me. This is what you’re good at. Tell me how to remove this bad man, and the rest of the stuff like the rescue”—she shrugged—“I’ll figure it out.”

“Take your time and get yourself together, Marian,” Marika said, her voice taking on an authoritative tone. “Go see your people on Tyhera and get back into the culture there. That way when we move, you will know more about the enemy than just a bunch of memories. I will blink back when we’re ready and talk to Rafian. I will get Val to help me convince him too, so that he knows it is more than you putting me up to this.”

Marian stared forward and put her hands on her knees, then nodded slowly to confirm Marika’s words.

“You know that he will move the universe for you, Marian VCA, so I wish that you would drop the victim act for a few, humble up and get him here. Your people need you and they need our skills,” Marika said, waiting for a reaction from Marian. When none came, she reached over and took her hand again. “Look, Rhee, Rafian will come when I tell him that you are here. But you must promise me that you will be ready.”

“I will be ready, Marika. I promise you,” she said.

“Okay, but just make sure that when I do jump back in, it will not be to a frozen rock like this one, okay?”

Memory 2

It started with an argument, an objection to the status quo, then the demand for exclusivity, and finally—when things seemed hopeless, an escape to rejoin family.

“Well ,this is interesting. You all have a Vestalia in Luca, too?” Marika asked.

A groggy Marian woke up, looking around as if she was confused as to her whereabouts. “Ugh, I always get woken up from the best dreams,” she whined, rubbing her eyes for a long time before staring out at the bright blue planet that loomed in front of them. “That’s not Vestalia, silly, that’s Tyhera … my planet.”

Marika looked over at her with disbelief. “No wonder you guys look so much like the humans of Vestalia. If you had knocked me out a couple days ago and woke me up to this, you could have told me that we were back in Anstractor and I would have believed it.”

“You never sleep though, Rika. You’ve been up for what? Three days on this trip?” Marian said, using her pet name for Marika Tsuno.

“After all that talk about galactic dictators and Fel-whatevers torturing rebels, I wasn’t going to sleep on this trip. I’m an old assassin from Anstractor, girl. We were made to stay up for whole weeks during our training. Plus, y’know, there are some added bonuses.”

“Like what?” Marian asked, looking over at her.

“Like watching you sleep. You have a cute purring thing that you do when you’re knocked out,” she said.

“Watch it, you, and remember our talk. I don’t want Vallen after me for taking his woman, and I’m mad at Rafian, but that doesn’t mean that—”

“Oh, hush, what do you think I am? I’m not in love with you, Marian. I mean, you’re a cutie, in a deadly flower that will poison you when you pluck it sort of way, but I don’t want to marry you. Plus, seeing what you put old Rafian through, I don’t know if I’d want to—”

“One more word, cruta, and I swear to the makers that I will bite your nose off,” Marian said.

“That’s my girl,” Marika joked, and they both laughed, deep laughter from the bottom of their bellies, the kind that makes you feel good all over.

They had used the ship’s FTL drive to get into Tyheran space, but after three days of hyperspace travel, they were getting near the end of their fuel, and the snacks that they had brought along were finished with the exception of a bottle of water.

Between the hunger and the talks they’d had to pass the time, the women had become closer—if that was possible. Serious talks had turned to old stories, and old stories had turned to jokes, which became personal jokes, which became honest jabs, with honest answers to counter them, followed by even more honest jabs. One of these jabs had Marika calling Marian out for being a hypocrite. She had lost her temper when she saw her husband with another woman, but how would she be able to explain to him that they had been sleeping with one another?

Marian explained the history of Rafian’s infidelity and countered it with Marika’s own beau, Vallen, who had no clue she was having a relationship behind his back.

“Phasers thype one another; it’s a fact of life.” Marika had said, but Marian would not hear it. Rafian had driven her to find love in Marika’s arms, so she wasn’t to blame for what she was doing. This last counter had caused Marika to laugh, and it made Marian so upset that they stopped talking for three long, painful hours.

A large vessel approached them as they drifted towards Tyhera and the comm on their HUD showed the face of a mean, Daltak warrior who was shouting something into his own comm. Marika was amused by the man’s appearance: he had on a hat like the old cow farmers used to wear on old vids from Vestalia’s past. His skin was alabaster, with a slight tint of blues, and his nose and ears were missing, but the area where they would be fluttered as he breathed.

“That man is a Daltak,” Marian said as she saw the look on Marika’s face. “A race of warriors with a rigid set of codes and rules that means that we better hope that he’s on our side.”

There was a lot of static and then his voice finally came through. He was cursing in Daltese, but got quiet when he realized they could hear him.

“Felitian ship, you have ten seconds to surrender to our tractor beam, or become disabled by our fire. You have no fuel; we can see it. Surrender peacefully and we will allow you to eject in one of our escape pods towards the planet. You have seven seconds. What’s it going to be?”

Marian recognized the face but couldn’t pinpoint from where. She exchanged glances with Marika, and then clicked on the holo-video to show the Daltak who they were. Marika quickly pulled on the pilot’s helmet and slammed the shaded visor down. Marian had forgotten that her Casanian features would cause questions, so she was happy to see that Marika was a step ahead of her.

“Can you spare two stranded girls with their hearts in the resistance?” she said. Daltaks were a stubborn, horned race of warriors that would not bow to Palus Felitious. She respected them for their tenacity, and she could not recall seeing a Daltak in the Felitian army; only Tyherans, Deijens, and a few Ranalos.

The man on the holo cocked his head and glanced over at his co-pilot and asked, “Mitchum, are you seeing this? Am I spiced, or is that Rafian’s wife flying that ship?”

Mitchum was another Daltak, much older, and a lot more handsome than the one seated next to him. He pulled up a tablet and punched in some codes, then scrolled a bit before showing it to his partner, nodding.

“Is Rafian with you? Is the old warrior back?” the man asked excitedly, and Marian shook her head at him.

“I am here alone, back to visit Tyhera, but I can tell Rafian that his friend helped me. I know that he will be grateful once he comes to meet me on the planet,” she lied.

“Tell him Makk of old Cally sends his greetings. We bled together against the Fels for many years, wife of Raf. He saved my life, I saved his … we really thought we had a chance. We really thought we would find Palus Felitious and kill him in the center of Veece.” He laughed so violently that it almost looked like crying, but Marian and Marika saw how much his demeanor changed when he spoke of Raf.

Marian spoke up. “I am always humbled by my husband’s friends, Makk. You all were titans in your time, and we can still be titans if we can reunite the resistance to destroy Palus.”

There was a pause after she said this, and they could feel their ship being pulled in by a tractor beam. The large junk ship that Makk and Mitchum flew was outfitted with weapons, but Marian saw where that fact could be easily overlooked.

When they were onboard and the vacuum port was sealed they exited the tiny ship and stumbled on to the dirty dock, holding one another for support. Marian looked over at Marika in her helmet and lifted it off. “Let me do the talking, okay?” she said, and the Casanian warrior nodded.

The dusty dock doors opened and the Makk stepped through, larger than life. He crossed the floor in long, powerful steps, and then embraced them tightly, as if they were long lost friends.

“Well met, well met, freedom fighters, it’s been too long. Where on Tyhera are you wanting to go? Me and Mitchum were headed to the Yilen space station to refuel, but we can drop you girls off if you want. That station has a bus that takes pilots down to the shuttleport near Veece. A few words to the right escort and you can slip past the so-called security.”

Marian regarded him, and wondered why he hadn’t asked about Marika’s features. Maybe he thinks it’s makeup, she thought to herself, and then looked back at their old vessel.

“Makk, I don’t want charity, especially since I have another favor to ask. That ship, the one you pulled us in, you obviously wanted it badly enough to delay your refueling in order to attempt a hostile takeover. How about I give it to you, in exchange—”

“For?” Makk asked as he stood with his hands on his hips, his duster flared out to give him the appearance of a powerful horned god. He had a wide brimmed hat on that covered one of his horns, but the other was out and it was missing the tip, as if he had lost it in a swordfight.

“Boy, Vallen better be lucky that I am a faithful cruta, Marian,” Marika mumbled as she admired Makk’s body, and the pirate swagger that came with his entire appearance.

“I need a house or an apartment for a few days, somewhere close to Veece and out of the view of the Felitians. I also need some food and drink. We haven’t eaten in hours, and I think I’m about to pass out.”

“You and your friend both look the worse for wear, lady Raf. I’ll get you fed and on your way,” Makk said.

“What about the house?” Marian asked, and the Daltak smiled and offered his hand.

“Lady, you don’t have to worry. Mitchum and I may look like a pair of have-nothing, space pirates on a scavenging hunt, but we have property on Palus’s beloved Tyhera. But we can talk about all of that later. Come join us in the cockpit, and you can tell me about Rafian, and why he has you out here alone during the worst time possible.”

They spoke for long hours with Makk and Mitchum, who Marian found to be both personable and enjoyable as company. They spoke of the old resistance and the things that they had gone through, and Marian lied and told them that she and Rafian had fled to one of the remote planets in order to live as man and wife, away from Palus’s rule. Makk had given her a look of disbelief when she told him this, and it was obvious that he wasn’t buying it.

“Rafian would never do that, lady Raf. Any one of us that knew the man, knew that the one thing he didn’t know how to do was give up. Sure he loves you; you’re worth the love as a warrior bride, but don’t sit in my ship and feed me feces and expect me to smile up at you as if it smells and tastes good. You can keep your secrets; I’ll leave it to him to tell me the truth. Now let’s get you down to Tyhera, like I promised.”

Memory 3

“You’re still thinking about the Supreme Leader, aren’t you?” Marika asked as she sat up and rubbed her large, black eyes. Marian smiled, admiring the dark spots that formed a funnel on Marika’s salmon-colored skin. It was one of the many unique features of a Casanian, a defining feature that seemed to replace hair—if she were a human. Most of the races in Anstractor considered them to be beautiful, so it didn’t take much convincing for Marian to share her bed with Marika Tsuno.

“Yeah, I think I’m heart-broken, but I’ll get over it. After all, we have too much to do here for me to wallow in self-pity, thinking about him,” Marian said.

“If Val did that to me I would probably kill him,” Marika said in a tone so sincere that Marian felt a little bit concerned.

“You brought it up as a joke on the ship, but some would call us hypocrites. You know that, right?” Marian said, leaning down so Marika could see she was being serious.

“Thype them; we’re just friends. When it comes to Vallen, it’s different. I don’t want to know about him and some cruta swapping sholt,” Marika said, waving her slender, pink hand dismissively.

Marian sat up and stretched, looking around the room like she always did to make sure everything was still in place. She didn’t know why she was so cautious; Marika had spent most of her adult years stalking and killing targets as a member of the Dead Star Coalition, so if anyone was to try anything, she would be several steps ahead of them every time.

She got up to take a misty cleanse, and stared at her friend to see if she wanted to join her.

“You go ahead, Rhee,” Marika said to her. “I’m going outside to test that lake.”

They were staying in an old abandoned house on the outskirts of Veece, a city that was the capital of Apun, Tyhera. Veece was once Marian’s city to police, back when she was known as Rienne Laren, the so-called Baroness of Blood. Those days she was a tool for the Empire, and it seemed like another lifetime to her.

Rafian, her husband, had come into the galaxy as an outsider. He rose in the ranks as a resistance fighter, and then romanced her away from her position. She felt indebted to him for doing it, and she knew that he had not only saved her life, but her soul.

Back then, she thought they would run away together, live humbly in the hills, raise a few children, and then die happily, having found one another. What happened instead was that he regained his memory and figured out that Luca was merely a mission. He was to return home after rallying the resistance, but he was now married to her, so they went back to Anstractor together.

Marian’s mind went through all of this as she stood inside the steamy mist, letting its microscopic magic remove the toxins and impurities from her body. When the lights on the panel turned from green to blue, she turned off the mist, dressed quickly, and then checked for her las-sword, as if she worried that it would disappear. Its black blade, lined with the strange language of the Geralos, was sticking out from under the bed. She snatched it up and slid it into its sheath, and then placed it with her other belongings.

“Jumping” was still a strange concept to her as a native Lucan; the idea of teleporting from one galaxy to the next was the stuff of dreams, but for a Phaser it was reality. She balanced a jump crystal in her palm, examining it to see if she could decipher its mystic properties. It was a futile exercise at best. She pocketed it quickly and then ran outside to see if she could find Marika.

We must take care not to leave anything here that belongs to Anstractor, she thought. If the Felitians were to get our crystals and figure out how to use them … Maker help us.

Marian was dressed in the peculiar style of the Tyherans in order to blend in, but the floor-length dress and the silken cape got in the way of mobility so it was hard to get used to. She had wrapped her black hair up into a conical top-knot, and the entire disguise felt uncomfortable and impractical. She floated out of the building on soft-soled shoes, and every step made her feel as if she wanted to fall.

Makk had put her in contact with Blu the Deijin, one of Rafian’s old resistance buddies, and one of the last men holding out against Palus Felitious on Tyhera. She was excited to meet him, but nervous at the same time. He had sent them down from the space station with five coins. Each coin was slipped into the palm of the guards doing the checks, and five guards later they were on Tyhera, running up into the mountains towards this house that Makk used as a vacation home.

“Don’t you look the part of the alien queen,” Marika teased as she splashed around inside the lake that sat next to the house. The water was not clear, nor was it a slight green reflective makeup like the lakes of Anstractor; it was a milky brown soup that made Marian turn up her nose.

“That’s disgusting, Marika. Are you sure it’s safe to swim in there? Tyhera has plenty of deadly amphibious predators that love pools like that. You wouldn’t see it coming and—”

“It’s safe; I did all the checks,” Marika interrupted, splashing water up at her for effect. “You act as if I’m some sort of idiot sometimes, Marian. I’m a big girl, you know; been a big girl for quite a number of years now. It’s sweet that you care, but come on.”

Marian looked down past the dry cobblestones that she stood on, and scanned the grass, trees, and rocks that bordered the pool. “It’s freezing out here. How’s the water?” she asked.

“Oh, it’s freezing in here, too, but it’s good for the nerves, good for training. I want to get used to your cold planet. This way, when you need me to kill someone, I’ll be more than ready.”

“Is that a strategy that you and Raf cooked up, or is this more of you thyping with me?” Marian asked.

“Old assassin technique, my dear; Rafian has nothing to do with it. Now run along, and go meet with your overly important xenophobic friends. I’ll be here if you need me. Just remember that I’m half a jump away,” Marika said.

~ * ~

The sky was a brilliant shade of orange, with the only blemishes being the dark clouds that played hide and seek with the setting suns of Tyhera. Marian was in awe of its beauty as she stood outside of the Starport, staring up at the sky. She wondered how it was that she had grown up on this planet and neglected to notice just how beautiful everything was.

She looked over the buildings and their unique designs and massive statues, sculpted by the men and women of her grandfather’s age. There was art in every corner, and beauty seemed to be everywhere.

She stood without moving, trying to absorb it all, and after a few minutes had passed, she hailed a glide transport to take her up into the mountains. It was a little under seven years prior when she had been an important person in the city, and Marian hoped nobody would recognize her.

The Phaser training had made her a stronger, more muscular version of the woman that she was, and she no longer wore the bright red mascara that she did when she was Baroness. She hoped this would be enough to keep her hidden, but just in case, she threw a thin veil across her mouth and sat near the rear of the vessel to avoid the crowd.

“Excuse me, Sha’an.” A Felitian soldier spoke to her, using the formal title for royalty to address her. “May I sit with you?”

She nodded at him and moved her hand to her knee so he could see the wedding band on her forefinger.

“Where would a beautiful lady such as yourself be traveling tonight?” he began, but his eyes betrayed his disappointment when he noticed the ring.

“Off to a meeting with friends, dear,” she replied.

“Wonderful!” he exclaimed, a bit too loudly, and then he tipped his hat and sat back down to watch the scenery as they flew up into the countryside.

There were about ten people on the transport, and the cool air brought the scent of perfume to Marian’s nose. She glanced at the men and women sitting peacefully in their seats. It’s a bit like paradise when all you have to do is turn a blind eye to the dictator that robs your freedoms and tortures his enemies, eh Tyhera? she thought as she watched them.  When I kill Palus Felitious, this lull that you find yourselves in will be over. Pampered rich boys playing at soldier like my admirer here will be running in the streets, crying.

She sat back smiling and played with her ring, trying in vain to keep the sweet memories of her time with Rafian at bay.

“You are my hatch kitten,” he had said to her when he proposed. She thought on the many kisses he had given her beneath the moon of Talula, and the skirmishes he had run off to, leaving her worried and afraid. It was an exciting and romantic life for the two of them, before he’d gotten his memory back. Oh how she missed it more than anything else.

“You know, Sha’an, you look very familiar to me, and I am thinking that you are someone important,” the soldier said after some time had passed. Marian hadn’t seen him staring at her while she was in deep thought, but he was smitten and couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Oh yeah?” she replied. “What makes you say that?”

“I wish I could put my finger on it, but I know your face. Are you married to one of our lords in Veece? Or, wait – you’re a member of the cabinet, aren’t you?”

Marian didn’t know what to think, but she wanted him to stop looking at her and mind his own business. She caressed the knife strapped across her upper thigh and stared back at him, trying to see if he would figure it out. Raise an alarm and I will gut you right here, she thought as she looked on, waiting for him to make the next move.

“Pah! Forget it, I have a terrible memory,” he said, and went back to looking out his window to take his mind off her.

Marian threw a crystal over the side into the high grass as her admirer continued to look out at the rolling hills of the Tyheran landscape. She waited a few more miles before taking another one out, then looked to see if anyone was watching before throwing it on the floor and vanishing into the light that it produced.

She was teleported instantly to the location of the first crystal, which was now too far away from the transport for anyone to see. She wondered what her young admirer would say about her disappearance. It would have looked as if she never existed, and since Luca knew nothing of the Phaser’s abilities, the soldier would probably think that his mind was playing tricks on him.

She proceeded to walk towards the area of the mountain that she was told the meeting with Blu would be held. It was the entrance to a cave, and as she walked into the darkness she suddenly heard a growl. She crouched into a fencer’s stance and drew her knife from the sheath on her leg. A large cat bounded towards her with cruel intent and she brought up the knife instinctively, hoping to ward it off.

“Shah, G’toh!” A rough voice spoke, and the animal stopped and sat down, licking a massive paw.

Marian looked around to find the voice and a large Deijen walked out, dressed in formal resistance garb and brandishing a long, brown rifle.

“She wouldn’t have bitten you, Lady Raf. She just likes to play. Don’t you, Nemesis? You just wanted to play with the pretty lady, right?” he asked the cat, who merely stared up at him with large yellow eyes.

The large cat growled and then licked its chops and Marian—seeing that it was a female—walked up to her and patted her on the top of her head.

“Well met, Blu,” she finally said after spending some time to pet and befriend the large cat.

“Long time, Lady Raf,” the Deijin said as he moved his seven-foot frame to stand in front of the tiny woman. He rested his hand her shoulder and Marian moved in and hugged him affectionately, her head barely reaching his chest.

“Where’s the monk?” Blu asked.

“He is unable to be here,” Marian said, looking up at him to read his eyes.

The Deijen looked disappointed. “I was hoping he was with you. We have been holding on for him for many years now. This resistance that he helped to become great has suffered some setbacks, and if anybody could get us back on track, it would be Rafian. Where is my old friend, Lady Raf?”

“I can explain later but he isn’t in this galaxy—”

“That makes no sense,” Blu said, cutting her off. He grabbed her shoulders to hold her in front of him, looking into her twinkling pupils for any trace of mischief.

“It’s the truth, Blu. Do you remember how special Rafian was with the things he was able to do in fights?” she said.

“Who could forget? We still talk about him; those of us that were there. We wish he would come back to us to help. We could use his special talents,” Blu said.

“The skills he has are not of this world, Blu,” she said.

“What do you mean, another world?” the large, cobalt, Deijen asked, his brows knitted into a frown as he held her.

“Another world outside of Luca, another system with its own planets … do you understand?” she asked, and the Deijen nodded, despite the reservations reflected in his long, plain face. “Rafian took me away with him the day he disappeared. He is from a world that has the technology to move across galaxies. But he had to return because his people were dying.”

Blu looked at her intently as he tried to process everything she was telling him. “But WE are his people, Marian. We are the ones he bled with, trained with, and fought with. We are brothers. I watched him grow from a grunt all the way up to being our leader. You mean to tell me that this entire time, Rafian, our Rafian, was an off-worlder?”

“Yes. But this is why he was special, Blu. It is why his eyes lacked the spark that all other Tyherans have, and it is why he left,” Marian said.

Blu chuckled and moved his hands from her shoulders to the small of her back. He said, “Come inside, Marian; this is a lot to take in. We were curious how you showed up so suddenly without Rafian, and we worried that you had killed him and returned to your—”

“You all dishonor me with such a vicious rumor, Blu,” Marian said sadly as she took the cat’s leash and followed Blu inside the cave. The Deijin pulled open a large hatch and they descended a flight of stairs. They did not go a long way before the stairs opened up into the living area of a large house, and Marian’s thoughts were interrupted by her surprise at how warm and welcoming the house felt.

“I say ‘we,’ but I have never doubted you, Marian,” Blu said to her as he led her to a couch and poured her a glass of spiced, sour berry ale. “When Rafian brought you in, he told us that you were his heart. From that day on, from what I remember, you outfitted us, healed us, and bled with us as a sister. No-one can question your sacrifice for our fight, especially now with you rallying us together to help the people on Talula. But men are jealous and angry, Lady Raf. You left us in our most desperate hour, and it caused a lot of speculation and anger.”

Marian wished Rafian were there to hear Blu’s story so that he could realize what he had caused with his sudden departure from Luca. She had always warned him that his rash decision to jump back to Anstractor would mean dire circumstances for Tyhera, but he had been too concerned with the fate of his own people. She couldn’t blame him for the choice he made, but she didn’t like the fact that she was the one to take the brunt of the blame from the confused Deijin.

“Well, I am here to help set things right,” Marian said. She sipped on the ale and grimaced as the sour after-taste did a number on her taste buds. The thick liquid reminded her of bitter aloe mixed with the greenest limes. She made a face when she swallowed it, and the Deijen—who stood watching her, as if he expected the reaction—chuckled at her as he pointed playfully to the bottle.

“Happy to hear it,” Blu said suddenly. He clapped three times, which woke up a service android who Marian noticed for the first time when it stood up gracefully and walked towards one of the walls while swaying its hips.

“That’s a bit of a sexy walk for an android, Blu,” she said as she watched the android begin its work. “I know I’ve been gone for a while, but I don’t recall androids having the ability to move like us.”

“Oh, I modified Rita to walk like that,” the giant man said to her. Deijins didn’t really smile, but she could feel the pride that he had in his work beaming from his stoic face.

“I’m going to hope that is all the modification you did to that thing,” Marian said and forced another sip from her glass.

The android touched the wall and it shimmered and opened up to another room. Marian could see that a number of men and women were seated around a table in there. She counted seven men and three women, some hailing from other planets and the majority being natives of Tyhera.

Blu announced to them: “Ladies and gentlemen of the resistance. Warriors, survivors, and future kings of Luca. Please welcome a friend of the resistance, the wife of my eternal brother, Rafian.”

The people stood up and began to cheer as she walked into their midst to shake hands and hug the familiar faces that were there. It was a warm welcome, one she was not expecting, especially after what Blu had told her, but she took it in and gave them her warmest smile before taking a seat at what could be considered to be the head of the table.

Marian took in the numerous faces and tried to see if she knew any of them. She recognized a few faces but she wondered if they remembered her. If any of them were to become suspicious, they would no doubt question her loyalties now, even as she stood: a proud Phaser, wife to the most wanted man in her galaxy.

She began to second-guess every move she made while sitting amongst their number. When a declaration of action was made and they all cheered in agreement, she tried to see herself from the outside – did she really look like she was one with them, or did she seem to be acting? After a while, she began to clam up, her paranoia getting the better of her.

“How many of you know who I am, truly?” she asked, looking around at her comrades who now regarded her with some surprise.

“They know who you are, Marian. What’s the problem?” Blu asked, standing with her to urge her to take a seat.

“I want to make sure,” Marian said. “We are about to commit our lives and many others to some serious actions tonight, and in meetings to come. When the blood begins to flow, and the Felitians’ grip begins to tighten on the innocents for our crimes, I don’t want any of you to question my right to being here.”

“Why would we do that?” a stern, dark blue Daltak remarked. He stood up suddenly and stared at her with what seemed like new interest, and the flap that acted as a nose lifted slowly before settling like the blast doors on a starship.

“I am Felitian-born and I have blood on my hands. Not just Fel blood, but—but Veece city blood as well,” she said, her words so fast and strung together that she had no chance to bite them back from being uttered.

The group looked at one another, nodding, and the Daltak shifted his stance. She could see the hilts of two poison darts on his leg and one of his hands had moved to hover near them. Blu stood up, as well, with a pistol in his right hand, ready to act if the Daltak moved to attack Marian.

“Seriously, woman? This is why you interrupt our meeting, to tell us about your past as if you are some sort of special fish in this boiling cesspool we call life?” another Daltak remarked. Marian looked over at this new voice and realized it was one of the faces she recognized. “We all have pasts, some more bloody than yours could ever be,” he continued, letting the words linger as he flicked his dark eyes up at the other Daltak who blinked, flashed him a return glance, and sat down.

“Thank you,” Marian said, and the kinder Daltak grunted and went back to his wine.

“So, what about Talula?” a grizzled, dark-skinned man asked, acting as if the interruption hadn’t occurred. The rest of the group looked like they were deep in thought, but several of them nodded at this question.

“We need a distraction if we’re going to mount that rescue,” one of the three women in attendance said.

“Rescue? Are you out of your mind?” the aggressive Daltak from before remarked as he looked around to make sure he wasn’t the only one who thought it to be a bad idea. “The Fels will have android guards posted all around that facility. You have to understand, they think that the people they have inside of there are the last of our organization! If there are more of us out here, they want to be sure we know that our comrades are in trouble.”

“So it’s some sort of honeypot for suckers, then,” Blu remarked, stroking his chin and looking at Marian.

“I know many of you don’t know me, or know what it is I can do,” she told them. “But if you can rescue the settlers on that moon, my friend and I can provide the distraction needed to make sure the Fels won’t react to you.”

The dark-skinned man from before smiled where everyone else had thin lines where their mouths should have been. He was the only one not drinking, and she could tell that despite his kind eyes, he was the most dangerous member there. He was armed to the teeth, but in a way that only a Phaser with her training could see. His weapons were strategically hidden, and his eyes betrayed the fact that he knew she was aware of them.

The unfriendly Daltak made to talk and the dark-skinned man waved his hand for him to remain silent.

“Shut up, Corea, you’ve more than made us aware of your distrust of this beautiful woman,” he said. “Like brother Blu here, however, I know who she is, though she wouldn’t remember most of us – old Rafian made sure of that,” he said and snorted out a laugh. “Sha’an, they call me Saiko, and I was a close friend of your husband’s, back in the golden days of Cally,” he said, his voice trailing off sadly as he made mention of the city.

“Pleasure to meet you, Saiko,” Marian replied. “You say that you were a close friend of my husband’s. You said it in the past tense, as if you two of you are no longer friends or—I don’t know. Do you all assume that Rafian is dead? Is that what you all think?” she asked, looking around.

“Where is Rafian, then?” the nicer Daltak asked, and Marian blinked quickly, trying to figure out what to say.

“The truth is, warriors, Rafian was never from here. He isn’t a born Lucan like the rest of us, even though his amnesia made him fight for us the way one fights for his own homeland. Rafian is from another galaxy, a warrior from a war torn universe who was sent here to be taken away from the ones he loved. He … he got his memory back on the day that he left you, and has gone back home, where he still fights for his own people,” she said.

“Sounds like a load of Buraa shite to me,” the older red-headed woman said. They were the first words she had spoken that night, and Marian looked at her and sized her up.

“You question my honor, cruta?” Marian asked, and the woman flinched when she saw the cruel intent reflected in Marian’s eyes. “Why would I make any of this up after Blu has more than vouched for me? The things Rafian can do is beyond even my understanding. His powers are—”

“We know, we know, Marian,” Saiko said. “Calm yourself, girl, we are all friends here. Persena was merely suggesting that you were making a joke. Most of us know about Mera Ku monks and the strange magic they have through their meditation. I’ve personally seen your husband get burned by a Felitian rocket trail, then walk away from it after kneeling into that meditation thing he does.” His eyes took on the look of a child witnessing a magic trick for the first time. “I knew he was special, but at least with what you’re saying now, it was some sort of alien thing, not just Mera Ku magic.”

Saiko seemed to calm himself as he spoke, and then he sighed. “Whew, many of us were thinking that he was … I don’t know—”

“What?” Marian pressed.

“We thought the Fels got him. Hell, we thought he was rotting away in one of their floating prisons, or worse. So old Raf’s alive, you say? I’ll be damned if that isn’t some good news. The next time you see that old boy, tell him One-Shot Saiko was asking about him. He could always come back and share a mug with me, Orion, and old Blu.”

Marian smiled and mouthed a ‘thank you’ without saying it out loud.

“Listen,” she said, as she composed herself and began again. “I have a friend that I brought back from Rafian’s galaxy. She’s a warrior like the rest of you, but a part of the group that I told Blu about. We have a special skillset that allows us to get in and out of formidable places rather easily. Like Rafian’s disappearance, it is a thing I cannot explain in too much detail but trust me, we can stir up enough noise in Veece to bring every Felitian in the galaxy running to protect their precious Emperor.”

“Really?” the unfriendly Daltak asked, his demeanor changing to one of even more hostility as he regarded Marian. “Show me proof, NOW, or I—”

“Or you fire that old, Felitian-issue pistol at me that you have resting on your knee beneath the table?” Marian asked, her eyes dangerous now as she looked at him with hostility of her own. “Fine. I will show you all if it means we can move ahead. But don’t blame me if I frighten you with our methods!”

With the utterance of her last word, Marian dropped a crystal and flipped out the tiny knife she held hidden in her palm. She slammed it into the Dalak’s hand that rested on the table, and then disappeared, appearing at the entrance where she had dropped another crystal.

She heard the man screaming and the panic that ensued when she teleported right in front of them. The Lucan rebels did not know what to think; she heard the chairs being overturned as they jumped to their feet and she shook her head, disappointed she’d had to show them Phaser secrets.

Marian walked gracefully through the cave and back to the room where Blu and company were shouting in a panic. They looked at her as if she was a ghost. Without saying anything as they stared at her in awe, she held up the blade and walked towards the Daltak.

“So, are we ready to make some plans, or do I need to prove myself to another piece of schtill like this worthless Daltak here?” she asked.

Memory 4

“I’m sorry, Lady Raf,” Blu said once everyone had left, and it was only the two of them beneath the entrance.

“Don’t be. They have every right to be suspicious of me, especially with the length of time that Rafian and I have been gone. You’ve been a true friend, Blu … there must be something you need or want that I can use to pay you back,” she said.

“Lady Raf, how many times am I going to have to tell you to drop it? I helped you because of Rafian. He would have done the same if our roles were reversed,” he said, and she thought that his hulking form looked menacing beneath the limited light.

She stepped past him towards the outside of the cave and stared up at the giant moon of Talula. It stood above them like an unblinking eye, bright and uncontested by any of the other stars and planets. It also provided them with light on the outside of the cave since they dared not use a flashlight or torch.

Marian thought of the planet Vestalia on Anstractor, which was a similar planet to Tyhera in both look and inhabitants. Humans and Tyherans were practically twins in appearance, but Vestalia had become a disfigured planet due to the years of war with the Geralos.

There was nowhere on Anstractor that could compete with Luca in terms of beauty, Marian thought—at least in her opinion. Talula glowed above them, and there were no clouds to hide the bright pattern of stars that seemed to dominate everything. She could see the planets Hostera, Coryen, and Vur. They hung above her, tiny but visible, unlike the night sky of Vestalia which would reveal a moon and little else.

“If we all could understand what we have here, we’d throw down our weapons and learn to get along,” Marian said sadly. Blu walked up next to her, staring upwards, and then nodded his head in earnest.

“That’s the thing, Lady Raf, we don’t take these moments to reflect like you do. I’m as guilty of that as anybody else here. How could we? I wager we spend more time glancing behind us for Fel daggers than looking forward to see where we’re going. Life has gotten harsher since you left. Stay here long enough and you will understand.”

Marian said, “It’s not much different in Anstractor, Rafian’s galaxy. The planets fight a common foe, which makes it similar but our—I mean, his people…” She stopped to find the words in Tyheran. “They lost their planet home, Blu.”

“What do you mean, lost it?” the large man asked, a look of confusion on his flat, featureless face.

“Imagine, Blu. Imagine that Palus was Vurian and not Tyheran. Imagine that he started a genocide of the Tyheran people because he believed we are inferior, and that our skins had magical properties. Imagine that he had the entire planet of Vur to stand behind him in this assertion, and they came through, slaughtered us all, and then took over Tyhera, enslaving the survivors.”

“But, I am from Deij, not Tyhera. What would Palus do with the aliens like me who call this place home?” Blu asked.

“That’s the thing, Blu; that wouldn’t matter. The fact that you aren’t born from Vur would mean that he’d either kill you here or on Deij when he goes there next to harvest bodies. In Anstractor there is a race called the Geralos. Their features are similar to Deijens but they are green, shorter, and … scaly,” she began.

“I don’t see how they are similar to us at all. We are a proud and kind race, Lady Raf. Though some have been imprisoned and made slaves to the Felitians – but you know this!” Blu snapped, annoyed at the comparison Marian was suggesting.

“No, no, no, I dare not say you are the same, Blu. I’m sorry. What I meant is that their planet is similar, very wet and tropical. The air there, you and I cannot breathe, but—they look like green, miniature Deijens, with wicked teeth meant for biting and plotting cruel things.”

Blu was still staring at Marian and she couldn’t help but feel unsettled, like his words did not match up with what he might actually be feeling. He stood staring for what seemed like a lifetime, then folded his arms into his robes and stared at the sky once again.

“Rafian is fighting these terrible men and women right now?” he asked.

“Yes, he has been fighting them since he was a child, if I’m not mistaken,” Marian replied.

“This doesn’t surprise me,” Blu said. “He was a natural at war, and I found it hard to believe that our rough, rudimentary training in Cally could produce someone as gifted as he.”

“Really?” Marian asked.

“Yes. It was bizarre, and like I said, many thought he was a gift from the maker, come down to help topple the Fels. When the Mera Ku monks took him in, he grew even stronger. You know this firsthand, correct?”

Marian rubbed her neck unconsciously and nodded.

“Will he ever come back here?” Blu asked suddenly, and Marian froze, trying to find ground between her anger with her husband and the adoration that everyone else had for him.

“Ugh, he will, Blu. He has his hands full, but part of his heart is here in Luca. He will not stay away for long,” she replied, wondering if she was telling him a lie.

They stood next to one another, watching tiny ships cross the sky and then all of a sudden, Blu grabbed her and pulled her back into the shadows of the cave. Marian made to struggle but could do nothing to escape the clutches of the tall, strong man. She tried to get to her knife, but he had her arms pinned, so she wiggled her face free of his hand to scream at him. He quickly covered her mouth and pointed to an area of the sky where a tiny white star looked as if it was getting closer.

“Fels!” he whispered and rushed back into the cave.

Marian stared at the star as it took on the shape of a drop ship. It was moving fast, and she could tell that it was headed somewhere near their area. She reached down and touched her leg where the knife was, then exhaled with relief when she felt it. Blu returned with his cat and then touched her shoulder and pointed to the back.

“There’s a tunnel we made in case we got discovered, Lady Raf. I have to collapse the cave; there is too much at stake for us to risk it,” he said.

“Blu, if Fels are onto us it means that one of the people we brought here was a mole,” she began.

“No! None of them are. We have always met, and we have always executed plans. The people here tonight have too much hate for Palus Felitious to make deals with him. Someone else must have figured us out. Perhaps they followed you here from the city.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Marian said. “I came here via teleportation, the same way I showed you earlier.”

“Then I am out of ideas,” he said. “That ship will drop soldiers, and we will be killed or captured. So let’s save the speculation for later. We need to take the tunnel and collapse the cave in order to avoid discovery,” Blu said, pulling her away from the cave’s entrance.

She ran behind him through the darkness to the front door of his actual home. They slipped through, powered down the lights, and then Blu triggered an explosion that shook the floor and the walls to the point where Marian had to catch herself from falling. He then began scrambling, piling his belongings into a moving capsule. When it was full, he collapsed it into a small, travel-sized cube, and then popped open another one to add more of his books, tablets, and illegal weapons.

Marian helped, and thought to herself how Anstractor could use the technology of the moving capsule. It was so convenient: it could take items that would require a transport to move from one place to the next and fold it all into the size of a small, weightless box.

They packed five cubes and then Blu touched a panel on the wall. A portion of the rock slid to the side and a narrow passage was revealed.

“Nemesis. Shah, G’toh!” he shouted at the cat and she bounded to the passageway, looked back at Blu and then slowly began walking into it. Blu then fanned impatiently at his server android, and she perked up, ran over to them, and then followed the cat into the passageway.

“Are we forgetting anyone else?” Marian asked with a hint of sarcasm in her voice, and Blu smiled at her—if one could tell a Deijen’s smile from their otherwise stoic expression—and then walked behind them into the darkness.

When Marian heard machines working at clearing the cave’s entrance, she imagined it was the Felitian Troopers, determined to find out who was inside. This meant that they were tipped off and a sinking feeling washed over her stomach. She took one look behind, then quickly followed Blu into the darkness.

Once they had walked for several yards, Blu triggered another explosion, and a wave of heat blew past Marian.

“What was that, Blu?” she asked.

“That was my home of several years, being destroyed to cause a cave-in to kill the intruders that would see me in chains. This is the life of a freedom fighter, Lady Raf. We keep our homes rigged in explosives. You never know when they will come for you, and when they do you must be prepared to die, or give up everything for the resistance.”

“Where will you stay now, Blu?” Marian asked as they pushed on through the blackness.

“I will visit Orion Zee, in the jungle. He has a hideout there that the Fels have yet to discover. Nemesis will love it there, since he has other cats living with him that she can be around. What about you, Lady Raf? What do you intend on doing until the rebels are ready?”

“I will be doing a bit of spying on my old neighborhood, and plotting an area where I can get at Palus to kill him,” she said.

“You are very confident,” he said after some time.

“I’m a Phaser,” Marian replied and didn’t bother to explain what that meant to him.

~ * ~

Marika Tsuno was a Casanian assassin. On Anstractor this gave her an edge because Casanians were considered to be the docile, artisan race of the galaxy. This was how she managed to become a famous gun-for-hire during the time when Vestalians were too occupied with the Geralos to care.

She’d had so many contracts to fill throughout her career that there was scarcely a time she was on location for leisure. A tragic childhood that became a short lifetime as a gangster had gotten her into the assassin’s guild. It suited her, the love and care for life being null and void in her dark mind, until her guild was wiped out by Rafian VCA and his Phasers.

In Rafian she saw a similarity that she hadn’t seen in many others, and it was due to their shared outlook on life. She tried to fight him on their first meeting, but he had been a step ahead of her in every way. He was supposed to kill her —she was a part of a unit that slaughtered humans and Geralos alike— but he spared her, and she bent the knee and handed him her knife.

While she loved Marian, she belonged to him. If there was anything she kept in terms of her Casanian blood, it was the honoring of a life debt.

Sneaking off and escaping to Luca had been Marian’s idea. It was a rash and dangerous move that would have gotten her killed and her records wiped from the cloner had she been anyone else. But, she was wife to the supreme leader, and unbeknownst to her, he had tasked the assassin to stick by her side and keep her safe.

Marika had agreed, but only if she could do it on her own terms. Rafian didn’t know the terms, but they were the kind that satiated Marika’s lustful desires and curiosity. How many other Phasers could say they shared the supple lips of Marian VCA with the supreme leader? She smiled wickedly at the thought. A good assassin must always have leverage, even on the most trusted of employers.

When Marian had slipped off towards the Starport earlier that day, Marika had gone back inside the house and collected her clothes. She dressed herself in an all-black 3B suit with a heavy black coat over it. On her face, she wore a mask to hide her distinct features.

She stood in front of the mirror in their bathroom and thought she looked menacing. It was hard to suppress the smile that crossed her full, dark lips, since she found her outfit to be quite amusing.

“Oh, this would frighten any little would-be snitch,” she muttered to herself as she turned one way and shifted to stick out her hip. She popped it to the other side, pulling her las-sword free with the same motion. “Yeah, they won’t see you coming, will they, killer?” she whispered and then spun to exit the bathroom and made her way outside.

She hopped onto one of the hover bikes that was parked near the house, then tested the controls. They were alien to her but not so complicated that she couldn’t figure them out. Touching the comm on her arm, a holographic image of Tyhera hovered in front of her. She used a gloved finger to slide it around, and took note where the city of Veece stood along with the ruins of Cally.

With a kick of a pedal and a few button presses, the bike lifted her steadily into the air. She sped towards Veece, flying recklessly past tall, branchless trees, which looked like logs planted in the ground. Marika kept an assortment of guns that she favored for killing her marks, but the one she brought for this trip was a rifle. An ugly, black, shiny machine with a barrel so long that it stretched past her shoulders to another three feet above her head.

If they were to assassinate a galactic despot, she would need to master the hunting grounds. There would be guards, but she would be ready for them if they were in the way. She set the bike down near a humming dome that stood out like a silver pimple in the orange and brown grass that popped up from everywhere.  She dismounted and left the rifle, choosing instead to grab a knife and pistol while sinking low to the ground so that the grass could mask her approach.

The cloak she wore was cumbersome but warm, and though she wanted to throw it off, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Casan was a warm, desert planet, and her thin skin was not doing well with the winter of Tyhera. She stopped at about twenty yards and dropped, listening to the whistling wind, the caw of strange birds, and the chirping of insects. This was an alien planet and she needed to learn its sounds. She stood there for a long moment with her face near the dirt, muscles taut, and ears listening and adapting.

When she thought she had the natural sounds memorized enough to track foreign ones, she rose again and approached the dome. It was a resource-gathering mill, and it had an alien insignia that she wasn’t able to read. She knew what it was doing, and she looked around and saw several more like it, pulling up minerals from below. This was the equipment of a crafter, so there would be no need for soldiers trolling the area. She ran back to her bike and resumed her ride through the trees and toward the city.

Marika reached Veece another hour after leaving the resource farm. It appeared suddenly before her, when she almost rode the bike off the side of a steep hill. The trees had obscured her approach, but with her reflexes she was able to avert disaster and take advantage of the location.

She pulled out a stand, touched two lights on its side, and rammed it into the ground at the top of the hill. She then attached the rifle, locking in the appropriate holds and then lay on her stomach and placed her right eye on the scope.

Veece was buzzing, and she could see people going about their daily lives within the beautiful arched entrances to the walled city. The architecture reminded her of home. Casanians loved to carve and create arches. She saw diplomats, their alien slaves, and uniformed men and women she assumed were some sort of police.

She had to take a shot. Though it would seem reckless, she may need to use the rifle at a later date, and she had to make sure that the crystal jump from their galaxy hadn’t thrown off the calibration. She turned the weapon, found a ball that a child had left on the street, exhaled slowly, and then depressed the trigger.

There was a split second of silence as the near-invisible shot found the ball and then it looked as if it vaporized. Marika lay still, daring not to move, but it appeared as if no one had seen the shot happen.

“You’re still accurate, big boy,” she whispered to her rifle, and then sat up and pulled her cloak in tighter.

Her hill was at the end of a thick bit of forestry. There was tall grass and lime-green flowers, large black rocks, and a brook. It was the perfect camping area for an assassin, and it made her wonder who else of the dark profession knew about it. This was an ancient planet with intelligent people. This meant that there would be assassins to hire, rich opportunists to kill, and the likelihood of a vantage point as amazing as hers being well known.

She weighed the odds. It was too good of a location to pass up, so she pulled out three shiny black orbs that were full of divots, somewhat like a golf ball. She threw one behind her, and another pair to either side. They would serve as radars to tell her if anything tried to sneak up. She then took some grass, and began to weave it into the grooves of her rifle.

The last thing Marika Tsuno did was to toss a crystal as far as she could towards the city. If a skilled assassin made it past her radar, she could always jump. She wasn’t looking forward to having any of them so close that she would need to consider it, but she wasn’t about to take any chances, not on this strange cold planet of Tyhera.

She thought to check in on Marian but decided not to. They were Phasers and they both knew what had to be done this day in order to prepare for the future. Marian trusted her to do what she was good at. Checking in would mean a lot of explanation, and the things she did could not be explained, not to one that knew little of the assassin’s way. Marian would hear from her when she was relaxing; for now, Marika must do what she knew how to do, and that was prepare for the perfect murder.

She laid back down, appearing as part of the bush to anyone who might fly above her or scan the area with binoculars. She knew how to blend and become invisible, and it allowed her to stay up there for the remainder of the day, watching Veece, and taking notes for the eventual tracking and killing of Palus Felitious.

Memory 5

The tunnel felt as if it went on for hours. The Deijen, the Tyheran, the rock cat, and the android dared not talk—or growl—for fear of something ahead hearing them. In reality, it was a thirty-minute trek, and when they finally emerged they found themselves outside of an old, burned down city.

“Cally,” Blu said sadly and turned to gauge Marian’s reaction. “They burned her with many of our friends still asleep in their houses,” he said, shaking his head and petting Nemesis. “It was a sad, sad night, Lady Raf. We all took to the hills like carrion bugs when dawn breaks. A shameful night for the resistance, a night of betrayal, death, and loss. So much loss.”

Marian touched his big hand and nodded sadly. “We will avenge them, Blu, we will—”

“How?” He grunted angrily, snatching back his hand with some annoyance and standing in front of her in a way that should have been intimidating. “We are a fifth in number of what we once were, back when we were a mere pain in Palus’s backside. How do you propose that so small a number will get revenge on a man that controls the twelve planets?”

“You have never had the help of a Phaser before,” she said, smiling at him with her eyes so wide that he could see the tiny, star-like objects in her pupils twinkle beneath the moonlight.

“Oh, don’t be cocky,” Blu said, and walked past her towards the buildings.

“What’s in there?” Marian asked.

“A place to sleep until the morning. We can’t be walking around at night in this place. Plenty of Shoran witches and Bargushes roam the countryside, looking for victims.”

“Bargushes, on this planet?” Marian asked, shocked. She could vividly remember the large, green, apelike creatures chasing her through the woods one day when she and her friends were playing at soldier. She was only thirteen at the time, and had run into one of their caves to hide from her friends.

“The Fels brought them here, brought them for the sole purpose of hunting renegades out in the bush. See, they don’t have to worry about those monsters turning on them. The Fels stay in Veece, or near their ships when they patrol. We rebels, outside of a few that have commandeered a bike or two – well, we’re easy prey out here. The Bargushes make sure of that.”

“And the witches? What is that about?” Marian asked as they found the ruins of an old cantina and slipped inside.

Blu led her to the back. “Aye, witches. Well, if I had to choose between the two, I’d take a Bargush tearing me from limb to limb. I may get lucky and that great big ape would snatch my head off first and end it quickly. With a Shoran witch, you never know what they want with you. They make sacrifices, you see, sacrifices to their blood god, in order to gain power over their enemies,” Blu said.

“How things have changed,” Marian said. “When I was a child, the witches were a legend. I played in the woods quite a bit and the last thing that I was worried about was a witch coming to sacrifice me. Now you’re saying that they are out and about … they practice the Mera Ku arts, do they not?”

“I believe so. The same healing and harming meditation that your husband does,” Blu replied.

“They don’t come out in daylight?” Marian asked.

“No, they have a network of caves, underground. Their eyes are blind to the light, but sharp in the night, like a bako bird. This is why you don’t want to cross their path on a midnight stroll. They will catch you, magic you into some sort of unnatural stasis, and then you would wake up as one of them. I wouldn’t be given the luxury of joining their coven; they would eat me. A Deijen would keep them fed for over a fortnight.”

Marian said no more as Blu dragged a stone slab away from a wall to reveal a crawl space. He motioned for her to follow Nemesis and the android through it. Inside, the hidden room was pitch black. Marian heard the stone being replaced and the android’s eyes glowed like light bulbs, illuminating the tiny room to reveal an array of sleeping mats and bowls.

“Those bowls have food,” he said. “Jerky! It may be bako bird jerky, mind you, but it’s seasoned and very tasty. No use going hungry while we wait out these Fels. So relax, eat, and let’s make the best of this,” he said.

Marian sat, let her hair down, and removed her shoes. The inside of the cantina was freezing but Blu unpacked one of the cubes and brought out a heater that he set down in the middle of the room. She shifted to where her tiny feet could be near it, and after a time, she laid back, relaxed, and stared at the stone ceiling.

“What was this room? Before the fires and bombs destroyed the place, I mean?” Marian asked after a time.

“This was one of our headquarters,” Blu replied with a bit of pride in his voice. “Cally was amazing in that it truly was beneath the blind eye of the Felitian Empire. She was like our very own resistance city. We even had a recruiter that was just about overt in getting people to join the cause.”

“How did you all manage that? I’m sure with spies and loyalists to Palus traveling, there had to be trouble,” Marian said.

“All the time. Cally was always being raided, shot up, and infiltrated by Fel soldiers,” Blu said, sitting up and pausing to munch on some jerky. He took a swig of wine from a large jug. “The thing is, as resistance men and women, we welcomed it. Fel attacks were a way for us to weed out the weak and train the strong. Actually Raf—your Raf, he made his name right here in the center of Cally city during an attack. Damn near died, the fool, but we patched him up and he went from being just another recruit to being a brother. ‘Bleeds resistance red,’ they used to say about him. Raf knew no fear.”

“Knows no fear,” Marian said, correcting his words. “He’s very much alive, Blu. Alive and thyping anything with a skirt from here to Anstractor’s edge.”

Blu looked puzzled. “Excuse me? What did you say? Thyping? I’m not understanding—”

“Sorry, I’m rambling, Raf was a hero here and I am constantly reminded of it. I’ve never seen him fearful of anything outside of failure, and even then it isn’t fear, just emotion over not wanting to disappoint those of us he loves.” She thought about the look in his eyes when he realized she was ready to leave him. “Rafian fights for what he believes in, and he won’t let anything short of death stop him once he’s on the path.”

She felt exhausted from the memory and wanted to talk about something else.  “I just don’t understand,” Marian said, changing the subject. “If they kept attacking then they knew you all were here, amassing troops, plotting and whatnot. Why would they allow you to continue?”

“They didn’t. Open those big, sparkly pupils of yours and look around, Lady Raf. The city of Cally is no more. They bombed this place when it was determined that the main resistance force operated out of here and not on Talula like they assumed.”

Marian grew quiet when he said this and reached inside the bowl to grab some jerky. When she put it in her mouth, the spice made her flinch visibly. It was salty, hot and sweet all at the same time, but the hot was a different kind of hot than she was used to. This spicy heat worked its way from the tongue all the way out to the limbs. It was so intense, in fact, that before long she was sweating and wanting to remove all of her clothes.

She pocketed a few pieces of the meat and drank deeply from the wine jug. A burp came out almost immediately, causing her to struggle not to drop the jug. She was so embarrassed that her deep, caramel-colored face turned a slight maroon in the light.

“You are definitely one of us!” Blu laughed, his chest heaving uncontrollably as he pointed at her and guffawed. The android joined in and Nemesis looked up from her jerky to regard them curiously as they snickered.

“I’m so … I can’t …” Marian tried, wanting to ball up and disappear from the embarrassment.

“Oh relax, Lady Raf, it’s just us rebels. There’s no fancy duchesses here to rap you on the knuckles for belching, or lords to turn up their nose at you for being a living creature. Come on now, laugh at yourself!”

Marian allowed herself to laugh. “It amazes me how much I am still that little Baroness at court inside, Blu. A burp like that would have gotten me locked inside my room for an entire week. The woman who cared for me inside the castle was a real piece of schtill.”

“Schtill?” Blu echoed, confused by the unfamiliar word.

“Oh, it means dung. She was a woman I hated with all my heart,” Marian said before taking another swig of the drink and belching again.

Before long she was fast asleep, and the wine kept her under in a motionless slumber that was void of dreams. She woke up after several hours to the sound of a bell ringing. Cally had a central clock that would wake everyone up at first light and the bombs had not managed to destroy it.

Marian rubbed her stinging eyes and looked around to find that Blu was missing. Thoughts of betrayal ran through her mind and she wondered if she’d exit the building to an army of Fels waiting for her. She looked around frantically, wanting to be wrong, and exhaled easily when she saw that there was a note written hastily on the ground. It let her know that he had left in a hurry to go help a friend in nearby Veece.

She grabbed the jug and took a swig of the wine before standing up and stretching painfully. It had been a long time since she’d slept on the ground, and her joints felt as if she had slept in a cramped box all night.

She pulled on her shoes, secured her knife, and knocked the dust off of her dress and cape. She hated how impractical her garb was for playing the role of resistance fighter, but it was all she had so she put it out of her mind. She grabbed a few pieces of jerky, sealed the bowl from which they came, and then slid past the rock to emerge behind the bar of what used to be Cally’s famous cantina. She could almost hear the music and see the fighters dancing and mingling back in the glory days of the resistance. It was a sad image, especially since it was during those days when she would orchestrate raids on tiny cells like this one.

She walked her aching legs through a side door of the cantina, and paused to listen to make sure she was alone. The place was a ghost town, so she went into the woods, climbing the grassy, rocky surface of the hills. She climbed for the better part of fifteen minutes until she found herself in a thick sea of grass, yellow and green as far as her eyes could see.

She walked through the tall grass, amazed that it was high enough to swallow her legs in its deep yellow waves. Her hands stretched out to touch them as she glided through, feeling like Rienne the Baroness once again. The sky was a pink color; she noticed it for the first time, and Talula, which hung low below a large visible planet, gave it the most wondrous view that she had ever seen in her life.

Tyhera's landscape was the stuff of paintings back in Anstractor. She wished that she had a memtoc flobot to capture it all to show Marika. She was still in this deep thought when she caught herself from accidentally stepping on a nest of large eggs. They were brown with beautiful emerald spots, and a cracked top shifted aside as a tiny kitten pushed its paw out to meet the world for the first time.

Marian gasped loudly. “Hatch kittens!” she exclaimed with glee, but her excitement was cut short due to a low rumbling growl that came from behind her.

Marian whipped around and pulled her knife free, sinking into a low stance. In front of her was the biggest rock cat she had ever seen, and she immediately realized she was in trouble.

“Look, Mom, I don’t want to hurt you,” she said. “I got near your babies on accident. Please oh please oh please don’t make me kill you.”

The massive rock cat closed the distance on her slowly, then in a sudden motion, pounced with her jaws agape. Marian threw two tiny crystals, one in the air and one behind her. It was so fast and so effortless that it looked as if she had merely skipped backwards and was suddenly falling from the sky to land on top of the giant cat’s back.

The creature was confused and annoyed with Marian, who held on to the cat’s rough, rock-like neck as she leapt one way and then another, trying to throw her from her back. This went on for a while and Marian dug her heels into her underside and hugged her neck tightly. No matter how much the cat jumped and rolled to throw her off—which was a lot—Marian wouldn’t relent.

Though survival was all that occupied Marian’s mind during the encounter, there was a moment when she thought she would die. The cat would tear her throat out and splatter her blood across those beautiful stalks of grass. It would be a good death, a proper death to a creature whose passions rivaled hers. But Palus Felitious would have won, Amanxa and her people would die of starvation, and she would never be found. This thought kept her strong, and the cat could not shake her. I will finish the mission, she mumbled to herself, I am a Phaser and we finish the mission.

After a long time the big cat gave up quietly, and crouched down, breathing heavily while Marian clung on with her eyes closed, wincing from the pain.

She risked removing one hand to take out a black crystal and clutched it close, determined not to use it but thinking she should. When she got off the cat’s back and retreated, crouching low, she sighed in relief when the mother didn’t bother to follow.

“Okay, no more hatch kittens,” she said out loud and then turned and began sprinting through the tall yellow brush.

~ * ~

When Marian hadn’t returned and didn’t report in, Marika decided it was time to get serious with a promise that she had made to Rafian. “I will bring her home safely,” she had told him, and he had believed her when she said it. If she were to show up back on Anstractor without his wife, she could only imagine the type of supernova that would result from his anger. An angry Rafian was something none of the Phasers had seen. Sure, he got upset sometimes, or disappointed, but angry? She would rather not be there to witness that event.

She had spent the day watching the streets of Veece from her vantage point up in the hills, then packed it up and took the bike home when the suns were setting. When she got near the ranch-styled house surrounded by pools of murky water, she stopped to take it all in from a distance. The place looked like the setting of a children’s story: it had white flowers surrounding it, growing wild and beautiful in their own way, and the trees grew so close that they formed a canopy, concealing it from anyone flying above.

She parked the bike and covered her tracks as she crept towards the back door. Better safe than sorry, she thought, and there was no evidence that Marian had returned. When she got inside, the place was empty, and she kicked off her boots and triggered the heating mechanism to warm the house.

She misted herself to clean up for the evening, and then pulled out a number of frozen meats and vegetables to deposit into the strange, self-heating pot that sat inside the kitchen. The pot was a curiosity that she wanted to take back to show her boyfriend, Vallen. You would place frozen items into its narrow top, and a chemical reaction would cook them to perfection in about fifteen minutes.

She took her meal into the living area and sat atop one of the many pillows that were thrown haphazardly around the room. It felt good to be on her backside after laying prone for hours earlier, and she scanned the room for entertainment to complete the relaxation. There was a small piece of furniture which resembled an ottoman, sitting central to the room. She saw a keypad, so she leaned forward and touched it and a hologram grew from it to take up the room.

Marika was impressed, and played with the keypad, seeing that she could adjust the size, color, and transparency of the hologram. After a while she was back on her pillow, watching what she assumed to be a drama, but it was in the Tyheran language that she didn’t understand.

“Wish that I’d thought about bringing a translator clip,” she said out loud, then muted the volume in order to listen to the wind blowing through the trees. The rustling of the leaves was therapeutic, and she thought of Vallen and how much she needed his muscular arms around her own.

She stretched out her long, shapely, coral legs, and glanced at her feet with some concern.

“Maybe we should give you two a massage later on,” she said, and then wiggled her long but well-formed toes. Part of the black polish had chipped on the right big toe and she hissed her teeth, annoyed at its imperfection.

When she reached down to touch it to see the extent of the damage, a sound made her freeze and remember quickly where her guns were. The sound was so slight that only a trained ear would hear it, but she couldn’t assume that it was natural or an accident when she hadn’t heard anything like it before.

She laid back and then snaked her body around to be on her stomach. She then crawled to the crumple of clothes that she had thrown into the corner. The noise came again, quieter this time, and with a rhythm that struck her as feet breaking twigs as someone approached. They were sneaking, whoever it was, and they were expecting to find her alone and vulnerable.

Marika grabbed the pistol from the holster on her boot, and while still crawling, removed the safety and then slipped behind the couch. She closed her eyes and felt the area, the same way she had when she first rode out to look at the city of Veece. An explosion shattered the glass door and accompanying wall, and an alarm went off as multiple boots echoed off the ceramic floor, marching in recklessly.

When she had counted that there were ten of them, Marika opened her eyes, popped up from the couch, and fired two rounds into the face of a man wearing shiny black armor. She ducked back down and popped up again, this time shooting another one in his chest. A barrage of bullets tore apart the couch as she crawled away, and when she got to the kitchen, she used the counters to shield her body from the shots.

An angry voice speaking in Tyheran ordered her to do something, but she couldn’t understand and even if she did, there was very little chance she would trust them. She raised her pistol over the counter and began to blindly fire. While she did this, she fumbled for some crystals and held them tight in her fist. The voice came again, and this time it was followed by movement, which Marika assumed was them making a rush at her.

Marika timed the first one and thrust the heel of her palm up into his chin. She grabbed his head and spun violently—snapping his neck—and then used his body as a shield to push the rest of them out of the kitchen. She darted sideways into the bedroom and then out the window and into the forest. She cursed herself for letting them have the house. There were too many Phaser items left inside and since the property belonged to Makk, leaving it to the Felitian police was not an option.

She was barefooted, naked with the exception of tiny shorts and a tank top, and she was freezing cold. Where the hell are you, Marian? she thought, and then glanced at her gun to make sure that it still had charges.

A Felitian trooper looked out the window, and she shook her head at his stupidity and placed a shot right between his eyes. Again, the rest of them fired on the area where she was, not paying any attention to the area where she had moved to. This isn’t even fair, she thought. They’re amateurs.

She slipped between the trees to the area where she had heard them approach. There was a bright orange transport, engine running as it bobbed up and down, hovering, and, from what she could tell, there was no one guarding it. Marika fiddled with the engine and then jammed the controls so that it would fly a straight path. She then sent it speeding away from the house, and when it crashed into a tree and exploded, she could hear the running footsteps of the foolish troopers.

She licked her dark lips in anticipation of the slaughter, and found a bush to vanish into. “Good thing you didn’t come back tonight, Marian,” she whispered, thinking of how the troopers had snuck up to the house. They had chanced upon a stealth expert and that was their mistake, but they would never realize this by the time she was done.

Memory 6

When the first trooper heard the explosion, he looked at his four comrades and imagined that beneath the black glass of their masks, they had the same look of hopelessness he did. Whoever this rebel was, she had skills that were equivalent to some of the galaxy’s most notorious bounty hunters.

“That would be the ride home, gentlemen,” he said with the high-dialect of a man born of Veece.

“Maybe she tried to fly it, and crashed into a tree during her escape,” another soldier said.

“If wishful thinking is your answer to us getting home tonight, Arto, I will have your badge,” the first man replied.

The smaller man shrank back. It was meant to be a joke to lighten the mood, but as usual it went right over the head of Furis Kyle. He wanted to spit an insult back at the man, this failed son of the right hand to Palus Felitious. He wanted to remind him that his crimes had cost him a dukedom, and now he was a lowly patrol officer, just like the rest of the lowborn.

“Stop staring at me. I can feel your eyes through your helmet,” Furis said, knocking over jugs and plates as he pushed through the house to the opposite side of the explosion.

“Are we to retreat, Kyle?” the biggest of the five asked. But as soon as Furis spun to tear into him for asking stupid questions, a shot brought the big man down, and another clipped Arto in his throat. He went down screaming in such a way that Furis wanted to cover his ears. The scream had a gargling sound to it, as if his throat was filling with blood. He turned to run away from the shots, but then another of his men was killed.

Furis Kyle was through the window and into the forest, tearing his helmet off to breathe. He sprinted away, giving little care to the branches and trees that loomed like large, menacing giants, threatening to slow his escape from whatever was about to kill him. He heard the remainder of his men taking shots and dying. He cursed but felt no remorse for them. They had been too slow, and their hesitation had provided enough of a distraction for him to get back to headquarters and report it.

Furis ran so hard that it felt as if his heart would burst, and though the burning in his chest was becoming unbearable, he would not risk being caught by whatever the hell that red woman was.

When he came to the edge of an embankment, he stopped. There was water rushing along from east to west in the river below, and it looked like silvery magic beneath the moonlight. He didn’t hesitate for long and jumped, staying submerged for as long as he could so that the currents could wash him away. He could only manage a minute or so before he surfaced to gasp for air, but he hoped that the killer hadn’t seen him, and that she had given up on her pursuit.

A sharp burning sensation took over his shoulder and between gulps of air broken up by the waves trying to drown him, he managed to see what it was. He had been shot, and whatever it was that shot him had used a low impact weapon of some sort. He bobbed up and down in the rapids until his body smashed into a rock, and then the icy water, moon, and the dark looming trees that was the river’s canopy faded to black.

~ * ~

Furis Kyle woke up near the outside wall of Veece, where the river flowed through. He woke up violently to a large Deijen pushing down on his chest while he spat up water and sucked oxygen into his lungs. It was painful and frightening, but when he rolled over and held his chest, he saw long, shapely legs leading up towards a beige skirt, split in the front with jewels wrapped around the waist of their owner. Her reddish brown hair was tucked beneath a green headscarf, and then he recognized her and was immediately embarrassed about his condition.

The woman was Beatrice, one of his father’s courtesans. She was standing over him, watching him intently, but when their eyes met, she gasped and began to wiggle her hands in a hysterical way.

“Young master, are you alright?” she asked, reaching down to help him up as the Deijen retreated a few steps and became a statue. “How fortunate it was that we were here when you washed up. Can you talk?” she asked, then stood up and looked over at the Deijen. “Voren, come over here and carry him, we need to take him back to—”

“Keep that damned thing away from me!” Furis barked. “I’ve had enough of aliens for tonight. Look, Bee, thank you, but I need to get back to the station. I have to report on what happened just now.”

“B-but you’re bleeding badly, Furis,” Beatrice whined.

Furis shifted the chest piece of his armor away from where the strange bullet had lodged itself into his skin. The shot was unlike anything he had seen on Tyhera, a shot that could mince through Hurakin armor. He removed the chest piece gingerly. It was still burning and he found that he was unable to move his right arm more than a few inches. When he was down to nothing but his wet pants and boots, he walked into the light of a nearby building and tried to examine the wound.

“Let me,” Beatrice said, and leaned in close to him to peer into the gaping hole of his shoulder. “There is something glittering in there,” she said.

“Glittering?” Furis snapped. “What do you mean, glittering?”

“I think you should go see a medic first, Furis. There is something glowing in your arm, and I doubt that it is good for your health,” she said.

Thanks, genius, Furis thought, and then forced a smiled at her and nodded to the Deijen before hobbling to the gates. Veece had begun to lock its walls at night as an extra precaution against the resistance fighters. The city’s footprint was in the shape of an oval, and at one of its smallest points stood a set of tall, narrow gates. Furis walked up to the gates and faced the panel, and when the droid asked for his identification, he presented his family ring to it.

The doors slid into the walls and revealed an entrance. Furis Kyle stepped through and headed towards the police station. The building, like most of the architecture in the city, was a sandy color, circular, with arched windows and doors, and a domed ceiling of black and red to indicate that troopers worked there. In Veece, the colors of the roof were the unmarked signs of what one could expect to find inside. It was a feature that was meant to confuse outsiders and trip up the resistance, but still inform citizens.

He held the throbbing area of his wound, and ignored the glances from people he passed as he made his way to the building. When he finally got there, he barked at the young man at the front desk to get him an audience with the captain. His head was spinning and his patience was gone, and his arm was beginning to feel really numb.

When he plopped down on the stone bench inside of his office, he lost control. It was as if all the energy within him decided to take a vacation. He sat down hard, and his head led the rest of his body down to the floor. When his face slammed into the floor, he blacked out. A tiny crystal embedded in a metallic bullet shell slipped out of the hole in his shoulder and rolled out next to his face.

A tear in the atmosphere above the crystal rippled reality in such a way that if anyone had witnessed it, they would have thought there was an earthquake. A slit opened up, revealing the inside of a house, and then a bald, coral-skinned woman in all black stepped through. The shaking subsided and closed before the crystal evaporated into tiny particles.

Marika looked around quickly to make sure she was alone. She had her gun at the ready in her right hand, and the left was holding a large sack with hers and Marian’s belongings. She rushed to the open arch of the window to peer outside. The streets were dark, with the exception of street lamps suspended from tall poles bordering the roads and buildings. She threw a dark shawl across her face, pulled up the hood of her cloak, and then tossed the bag out the window. She gave the place a final look before reaching down to collect the tracking bullet that was next to Furis, then turned to climb out of the window.

She stopped and looked down at Furis for a time, working through her head the pros and cons of killing him now that she was inside the city. When she heard footsteps approaching, this prompted her to slip out the window, grab her bag, and then meld into the crowd of people walking around. She saw a tall structure that lacked the domed rooftop of the rest of the buildings and she walked towards it, keeping to the shadows as much as possible.

The whole exercise reminded her of a mark that she once had to stalk and kill on the streets of a city in Louine on Anstractor. The mark never stayed in one place long enough for her to kill him, so she’d had to follow him out onto the streets in broad daylight. She had worn the face of a Louine that she killed, and dressed in a way that was cloaked but still common for the area. It was the most disgusting assassination she had ever carried out, but the fact that it was on Louine—a planet rarely visited by the other races—had turned her into a legend.

Wearing a person’s face that was cold, dead and inanimate does something to one’s psyche, but she was young and much more hardened at the time. She had merely put it out of her mind as she walked the four blocks it had taken to get close to him, call out his name, and then put a bullet in his head as soon as he turned around. She was no Phaser then, so escaping wasn’t as easy as dropping a crystal and blinking out. The man was a governor that people adored, so as soon as she shot him, she had to find a way to disappear.

Louine is the most tropical area on Anstractor, so water was literally everywhere. When the crowd began to panic, she joined them, and tore off the borrowed face, clothes, and shoes as she ran to the city wall. She climbed it masterfully, and dove several feet down into one of the waterfalls that bordered the city. The memory of it came to her as she kept her leisurely pace, going inside the shadows of Veece.

Earlier, when she’d sat on the hill watching the daily life of the Tyherans, she had looked through one of the windows of the tall building that she approached. She knew it was a fancy hotel, one where many alien visitors and people of power stayed. It would not be easy for a masked woman in all black to purchase a room, but the city seemed primitive. There were no scanners and droids like Anstractor, which could pick up on what it was she was about to do.

A crackle in her ear stopped her short and she found a nearby bench and sat down quickly. The crackling gave way to what sounded like breathing, and then Marian’s voice broke through. “Marika, are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here. Marian, where the hell are you?” she asked.

“I’m so sorry I took this long to contact you, but things went all kinds of wrong. I’m in this abandoned city with a friend, hiding out from the Veece police,” Marian replied.

“Well, I’m in Veece,” Marika began.

“What! How in the worlds did you manage that?” Marian exclaimed.

“Too long a story to explain from a compromised position, Rhee,” Marika replied. “Things are easy if you can be ‘just another Casanian’ when you’re on a mission, y’know? But here, I am ‘the alien’ since I don’t look anything like the people here, and I’m dressed like I’m going to a funeral, or en route to scare the life out of someone.”

“Oh, Marika I’m so sorry. You’re being calm about it but I bet it’s been a rough day for you, with the Felitians being as cautious as they’ve been and all.” Marian sighed. “Look, it’s too dangerous for me to come and find you tonight, and I don’t want to leave my friend. If you can just post up somewhere out of sight for the night, we can rendezvous tomorrow. Blu says the day clerk at the largest hotel there is one of us. The name of the hotel is Palas Sun Toucher. I know you can’t read it but there will be a logo of a black tower within a large red circle. Go there after noon tomorrow and he will give you a room, a set of keys, and all the food you can eat.”

Marika absorbed the information and then said, “Makk’s house is compromised, by the way. Your Felitian friends are very thorough in their whole, ‘keep the people on their toes thing.’ You may need to warn him.”

“They murdered Makk and a few others last night, Marika. Thype them. You just get to the hotel tomorrow and I’ll take care of the rest,” Marian said, her voice low and dangerous.

There was some silence as Marika absorbed the information. She couldn’t help but feel upset over the death of the pirate, Makk. He had been good to them and all for the sake of Rafian’s name. From the way Marian was talking she could tell she had taken it personally. She was putting things into action, and Marika hoped that it wasn’t her being rash over Makk’s untimely death.

“Are you sure about this?” Marika asked, not liking the idea of entrusting her safety to a stranger.

“The resistance is well connected here, Marika. It may be some time before we can meet up again, but at least there I know you will be safe until I am ready to move.”

~ * ~

There was something magical about music, to the point that it defies all understanding. Music could conjure up memories of things long buried, and emotions once felt. Marian woke up to the sound of Meren’s Benevolent Symphonic Orchestra, and their popular rendition of “Savior,” a ballad dedicated to Palus Felitious and his rise to power. It was a song that used to soothe her as a child. It was full of horns, dominant trumpets that allowed space only for the strongest of string instruments and the big bad bass drum.

It was a throwback to days of hard black boots on her feet, rapier dangling at her waist, and several officers hanging on her every word, ready to do her bidding. It was a song that brought her the memory of the day when she first admitted to herself that she was in love with the handsome rebel who broke into her house to escape her troopers.

It was a memory of things she no longer wanted to admit about herself, her erratic mood and limitless hunger for things that a lady dared not admit. But she had gone hungry for years under Felitian rule, and when there came no man or woman that could satisfy that hunger, she had locked it away within, thinking such a partner did not exist.

Could anyone blame her then, when a man the caliber of Rafian VCA crossed blades with her, not once, but twice, that she would not size him up that way? She was way beyond the season of such things, from a Tyheran perspective. Girls normally had a promised suitor by age sixteen, and most—if not all—would have been secretly rid of their virginity by the time they traded oaths on their eighteenth year.

Marian had played around with boys and girls in one way or another prior to her eighteenth year. There was no ultimate suitor to unite houses or any such nonsense for her, but she had wanted the other naughtier things. She had wanted it so much that she developed a rather healthy appetite for it … partially because it was so frowned upon by her handlers. But a Baroness couldn’t be hopping into bed with would-be Lords of the Felitian Empire, now could she? So when her teenage years edged towards adulthood, she locked it away. Oh, how she hated locking it away, but after a stern talk with her mother, she had to do it to avoid embarrassment.

It was at age twenty-one that she ran away with Rafian, the rebel. Twenty-one was the age when she should have been married, claimed, and with her first child—per custom, of course. But this strange rebel cared less for customs, and seemed more concerned about her beauty and fighting spirit than he was about babies, families, or the status quo. Could anyone blame her for giving up everything for him?

She thought of how fearless he was when they’d first fought. Felitian soldiers—the ones she allowed to get within a sword’s reach of her—were soft, pampered boys who played at warrior. Rafian showed up as a tall, commanding body of muscle and sinew. For a girl who had “locked it away” for so long, how was she to avoid falling in love with him?

These feelings dominated the more recent annoyance that she had when he crossed her mind, and she pulled the covers of the bed in between her legs, wrapped a tuft of it within her fists, and bit her bottom lip as the memory came back to her, strong and lusty.

Marian laid in the bed for a long time after the memory, confused with her emotions and the things she had done whilst remembering it. Marika was supposed to be there to make it easier, but she was miles away in Veece at the moment. Only that blasted song was here, pumping memories into her head.

She hopped up off the bed and took a quick, misty shower, then dressed in a simple white frock she had collected from a vendor outside the hotel. After her escape from the rock cat, she had caught up with a hover lift that was en route to the city of Meren. Veece was buzzing after what happened with the raid on Blu’s compound, so she didn’t want to risk discovery by showing her face there.

Meren was the city she’d grown up in, before the Felitians moved her parents into the capital. It was the actual city she was named Baroness over, even though her time there had been minimal, to say the least. Its architecture, people, and local culture were similar to Veece. This was no surprise considering the close proximity of the two cities, but it still reminded her so much of Veece that when she woke up and heard that song, she’d had to remind herself that she was not there.

She pulled on a pair of comfortable blue slippers and slid into the hallway of her floor, and then into the elevator to go down to the lobby. A furry Lolek in a fancy robe stepped in beside her, and when she indicated on the panel that it was going to the lobby, he smiled and nodded and she relaxed and closed her eyes.

The lobby was a madhouse of guests leaving and coming in. This was Star Stride, the most popular hotel in all of Meren, after all. She walked through the massive arched entrance—one of eight—and pulled up her crocheted scarf in order to conceal her hair and the upper part of her face. It had been a long time since she was Baroness, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

She walked over to the only store that didn’t have a crowd of people swarming the entrance. It wasn’t a golden brown color like the rest of the architecture in Meren. There were no arches, no domed, jeweled rooftop to it, nor was the sidewalk swept like everywhere else. It was a shack compared to the other buildings, an eyesore in the flawless layout of Meren, but there it was, calling her like some old sage ready to read her fortune.

As she walked to the store, a wave of nostalgia came over her. She clutched her chest and touched the rounded post that stood by its door and leaned over.

It was more than nostalgia. It was something strong, within her. The memory racked her mind and she gripped the post, fumbled over to a nearby bench, and sat down. She had repressed so much of her years as a Felitian to hide it from the resistance. Tyherans weren’t like Vestalians who could just remember and not be physically affected. She was a Tyheran woman, and the memory hurt; it hurt like a bullet that had been lodged inside her head, working its way free of her skull.

Rafian had told her that it would be okay, that her past and the fact that she used to kill rebels – the same rebels she was now vowing to fight alongside – was a non-factor. “The brothers and sisters know that you're one of us now,” he had said, but she didn’t want to take any chances so she repressed the memory. Now she remembered the raids, the battles, and the harsh sentences that she herself would hand out as judge, jury, and executioner when it came to the rebels.

She stood up and walked away from the store, glancing back periodically, afraid to let the full memory destroy her. She thought on her childhood and the shame that it brought her. She was born into her family's mess, their loyalty to a cruel regime that thought little of the people in her galaxy and operated solely on power and control.

She had expected to come back to Luca, to her home in Veece, and to feel the small, ticklish butterflies of nostalgia that came with the smells, sounds, and sights of home. What she felt now was foolish. She had let Rafian take her away from the death and the cruelty to a galaxy where she could literally start over, yet here she was, back in the pain and the hurt.

Her thoughts distracted her and the shawl fell, but she pushed through the crowded street, too focused to notice.

“R-Rienne,” a female voice intoned, and when the old name registered and she recognized the voice, her heart dropped to her feet.

Memory 7

“I can’t believe it is really you,” the woman said to Marian, touching her face and examining her arms as if she was an exotic animal. “You’ve grown so tall and muscular. Where have you been? Everyone said you were taken hostage by the resistance. Killed, even. Oh Rienne, come, come; your parents will be elated.”

The gray-haired woman tugged on Marian’s arm but she froze. The words “your parents will be elated” was all that she could focus on, and she didn’t know what to think of it. She hadn’t seen her mother and father in over ten years; they had been estranged even when she was an active baroness. What could she say to a father who chose Palus Felitious over his daughters, or to a mother who allowed him to do it? She took a look at the woman and tried to remember who she was, but nothing was coming to her in terms of recognition.

Wait, she thought, I'm supposed to be looking for a way to get out of the Felitian network. Transportation, not old people from the past, that's what I came out here for. I need to go where the Fels can't intercept my communication. I need a transport to take me into the wilderness.

She noticed that the woman was older—possibly in her fifties—and her hair was so gray, it was more of a silvery blue. Her face was younger and her bushy eyebrows were black, which made for an odd but attractive complement to her hair. She was the same skin color as Marian, which made her stick out in the crowd of pale Tyherans. She had rings on every finger, and wore a silky, light blue robe. It too was adorned with jewels, as were her sandaled, well-pedicured feet.

“Do I know you?” Marian asked, looking at the woman with a stern expression.

The woman knitted her brow in a way that made her seem annoyed. She tilted her head and looked Marian in the eyes, then shook her head when she got no reaction out of her.

“Rienne, I’m your Aunt Rosa. You used to visit me back when you were a spirited teenager. Don’t you remember the ‘long painful trips in the ugly yellow mobile,’ as you used to call it? The times I used to catch you stealing mesa fruit off the neighbor’s tree? Nothing? You don’t remember any of that?” she asked, almost begging in the way she sounded.

Marian shook her head and looked off into the distance, trying to conjure up some sort of recollection. Nothing came, and she began to feel concerned for her sanity. Why would I forget a family member? she thought. I can remember everyone that meant something to me in this galaxy, but why am I drawing a blank with this woman?

Rosa spoke again. “Why am I drilling you like this? Please forgive me, Rienne. You’ve probably been through a lot, poor child. I bet you repressed the memory of us, didn’t you? Maybe I can help you remember the good old days, eh? Come, there’s iced mesa juice and fire pits at my house,” she said.

Marian thought it odd that this so-called family member had no questions as to her whereabouts for all the years that she was off Luca, and now she was offering to bring her to a house and feed her sweets. She thought of children’s stories, where a witch or warlock would lie to a child and entice them with sweets in order to try and eat them. Aunt Rosa looked as if she could be a family member, but there was something off about her.

She decided to play along. If Rosa intended to spring a trap, she would be ready for it. If, on the other hand, this was truly a family member, she could utilize her facilities as a home base to contact the resistance and find out more information on Palus Felitious.

“So, you’re taking me to your house, then?” Marian asked.

“Of course, but you probably don’t remember it. Our home used to be your refuge from your father’s wrath. Oh, how he loved you, Rienne, but his temper did get the best of him at times,” she said.

Marian wondered how well her parents were actually doing now that the Felitian Empire was flying high and unchecked. She followed the woman to the outskirts of the city. Rosa got into a rusty, old, yellow car and motioned to the passenger seat for Marian to join her. When she did, the car lifted up a few feet off the ground and Rosa pushed it down a path towards a dense forest.

They rode past trees, drop-offs, and a giant snake biting into an animal, then through a series of caves before stopping in a clearing bordered by several houses. When they parked, Marian stepped out and looked around at the tall trees, whose fanlike branches acted as a roof to keep the sunlight out. It was very cold but in the center of the village, a tall bonfire raged, radiated a welcoming warmth.

Marian felt worried, but she could not explain it. The place was secluded and surrounded on all sides by trees, but the people seemed strange. Here they were on Tyhera, the Lucan planet of industry and invention, yet these people were living as primitives, and Aunt Rosa was one of them? The woman looked as if she was a Sha’an from Veece. Something was off.

A number of children ran up to the car, and Rosa hugged them all and handed out sweets before they returned to playing around the fire. Marian decided that she liked the atmosphere. The people were quietly going about their lives there, and the shadows from the trees made it feel very peaceful and therapeutic. The smells took her mind to darkened areas of her history. There were memories missing, she surmised, and she wondered if she would be able to remember them.

“Ahh, see, I see it in your face. You may not remember, but you feel at home, don’t you, girl?” Rosa asked.

Marian nodded her head and tried to remember. There was a familiar feeling to the place, but it was not very strong, so she couldn’t truthfully tell Rosa how she was feeling. The woman led her across the square to one of the larger homes in the village.

As she walked, the villagers stared at her with welcoming smiles on their faces and three girls ran up to examine her dress. Marian thought they were adorable since they wore flowers in their hair and giggled to one another with innocence. Once they had satiated their curiosity, they received more candy from Rosa and ran back to play around the fire.

When they got inside the house, Rosa began to recall tales of her childhood, but Marian could only focus on a large painting of Palus Felitious on the wall. He was in uniform, his face all cheekbones, bushy black eyebrows and flawless goatee. She recalled her mother having a crush on him—this savior of Tyhera that they accepted—and in a way she could understand. He looked confident, indomitable, and as he posed proudly, his eyes stared out at her as if he was telling her that her days were numbered.

She wanted to ask Rosa why she had a picture of a tyrant on her wall but she bit her tongue and played along, switching her focus to the immaculate decor of the place. How could I blame Rosa for following one of the basic laws of Felitian rule? she thought. It had been one of her duties as Rienne the baroness: to make sure that the common people had a picture of their emperor.

She herself used to hand out the paintings, vids, and life-sized holographic statues of Felitious to the Tyheran people. The memory of this annoyed her, but like everything else during her life as a baroness, she wrote it off as a time of great confusion for her.

Marian observed the cozy, carpeted home with its hand-carved furniture, freshly dusted cabinets, and fine blankets thrown over the backs of couches. This last observation made her stop and wonder about her aunt. She walked over to the settee, ran her hand through the fur, and tried to think of what it reminded her of.

“That is a bako bird, feather blanket I picked up at the market last year, Rienne. Isn’t it exquisite?” Rosa asked, and Marian nodded without saying a word. She appraised the mat thoughtfully as she danced her fingers through it. Bako birds were slightly furry—a consequence of their tiny, tender feathers—but she could not imagine there being enough on one bird to create a throw blanket. The time and dedication it would take to hunt, pluck, and create a blanket of that size would mean that it was practically priceless.

Rosa kept the curtains drawn and it made the place very shadowy. There were lamps that seemed to stay lit the entire day, and the house had a sweet, spicy smell of incense that reminded her of cinnamon.

If her aunt was right, that she used to escape to this house as a child, Marian wondered why she couldn’t remember any of it. What about the smell? If there was anything that could pull forth a memory from a Tyheran’s mind, it was the smell of something, or the sound. There was absolutely nothing familiar about the place at all. Her heart began to beat faster and her breath shortened, but she composed herself with steady breathing.

She saw a moving photo of a younger Rosa in Veece, and several other photos of children ranging from age eleven and up. Marian noticed that there were none of her, her parents, or anyone she knew. This disappointed her a bit, because she was genuinely curious about what they looked like now that she hadn’t seen them in over a decade. Her heart began to race again and her blood began to cool. She anticipated a trap and her training was preparing her to meet it, whatever it was.

Marian didn’t know what to think of Rosa. Her story, her house, and her attitude were a mystery, and the Phaser in her wanted to drop a crystal and make a jump for her life.

But what if everything Rosa had told her was true? What if they really were related, and she was her sweet, old auntie looking to get the family back together? She looked around for the woman, and realized that she had been gone for a while. She walked around some more, inspecting the wooden walls, vaulted ceiling and the little nuances that hinted at a fancy cottage playing the part of a humble home. After a few minutes of this, Rosa returned, carrying an old vid-phone.

“I can’t wait to see their faces when I tell them I found you,” she was saying, but Marian barely acknowledged her.

When she turned around, Rosa noticed that the young woman looked irritated beyond measure.

“Aunt Rosa, I am going to have to ask you not to power on that thing. I don’t want to talk to my parents,” she said, watching the woman’s face for a reaction when she said it.

“Oh, why not, Rienne? It’s been so long,” Rosa said, looking dejected.

“I just need time, to—to be okay with it, that’s all. I appreciate the gesture, really I do, but if you call my parents now, it will only cause us to argue … trust me,” Marian lied, watching Rosa’s body language for any aggressive signals.

“Okay then, no calls,” Rosa said quickly and then took a seat on the settee. She patted the area next to her for Marian to join her, and the sultry beauty agreed and plopped down next to her. “So tell me, pretty Rienne, where have you been all these years? Did the rebels really kidnap you, or is it something more sinister?” she asked.

Marian shrugged, then looked into the sparkling pupils of Rosa’s eyes. “So tell me, Rosa,” she said, not answering her questions, “and I want you to choose your words very carefully. How much is the ransom on my head that you aim to collect from the Fels?”

“I don’t understand,” the woman gasped, as if offended, but Marian refused to budge.

She raised her voice, placed her hand on Rosa’s wrist, and said, “One more time, sister, drop the act. You were back there way too long to be collecting an outdated vid-phone. I know you brought me here to distract me, so admit it, or I will be forced to do something we both will dislike,” she said.

Rosa screwed up her face and stared daggers at Marian. “How could you betray the very man that avenged your sister and gave you the world, Rienne? How could you take sides against your own family? You always were a spoiled little shite—”

“Drop the act, cruta, you don’t know me. I thought I was going crazy but this was all a setup to get me here. How long have you all watched me, to know where to catch me to spring this trap? Have you all been waiting since the time I disappeared, or did you torture my friends to get the information?”

Rosa gave a sinister smile and crossed her arms as if to say that her lips were sealed. Marian slapped her and she held her cheek and then made a noise that was not unlike the growl of a rock cat. “You don’t remember me, but I remember you. Oh, you were too young to recall me checking up on your parents for Lord Felitious, but I know you, girl. You are Rienne Laren, and there are five million credits on your head, that—”

Before she could finish, Marian grabbed her other hand and pulled her towards her. She head-butted her with a glancing blow to the temple and Rosa lost consciousness. She bound and gagged her with cloth napkins that she found in the kitchen, then dragged her over to a closet and opened the door. Inside the closet, she saw many articles of clothing that defied the humble living façade Rosa had created.

“You little cruta,” Marian mumbled, “Talk about me being spoiled, and here you have enough clothes to trade and feed those hungry children that you’re slowly poisoning with candy.” She kicked the woman in the ribs and grabbed a pair of flexible black pants and a jacket from the shelves.

“Of course this was a trap,” Marian said to herself. She ran to the kitchen window and peered outside at the now empty center of the village. She stood looking out for a time, until she could hear a cruiser flying low above the trees. She slid off her white dress and pulled on the pants. The material was very elastic in its nature, so it clung to her curves extremely well. Next, she pulled on the jacket over her blouse, threw on her knapsack, and then strapped a knife to her leg.

She slipped out the back door and dashed to another building where she scaled the wooden paneling on the side, climbing up to the roof. There she perched near a large chimney and waited for the cruiser to silently land on the path leading out of the village square.

Black-uniformed Felitian soldiers poured into the square and they began to rush the houses. A few of them circled to the back to watch for anyone trying to escape but none of them bothered to check the roof.

She waited for the men to kick a few more doors in and then decided to take action. One of them had foolishly gone into the house below her without any of his comrades to back him up. She waited for him to exit the rear, and then dropped on top of his shoulders. Before he could throw her off, Marian hooked her feet beneath his arms and rolled forward—bringing him down with her—stabbing him in the abdomen as they fell. She dragged his lifeless body into the forest and kicked dirt and rocks over the blood trail to cover it up.

Marian stripped the man of his helmet and chest piece, and then slipped them on and retrieved his rifle. She glanced down at it briefly, and recognized it as an upgrade to a model that she had trained with as a teen. She flipped open its barrel, touched a few buttons, tried out the scope, and then threw it over her shoulder.

She walked the perimeter of the village under the cover of the brush. Her mind kept traveling back to the giant snake she had seen on her ride in and the thought was making her overly cautious.

The soldiers were yelling at the people and threatening to shoot them. They threatened the children with violence while asking the parents about her whereabouts. Marian felt an urge to leave, but she felt responsible for the fates of those people. They were neither Felitian loyalists nor rebels, and they did not deserve the treatment being dealt to them by the frustrated soldiers.

Marian remembered that Rosa was still tied up inside the closet and she wished and hoped that no one would find her there.

One of the soldiers used the butt of his gun to knock an old man over, and this was what pushed Marian over the edge. She knelt in the bushes and brought the rifle up, then shot the soldier in the back of the head with an incendiary round. The bullet tore through the base of his skull and expanded on impact. Flames melted his eyes as they ejected onto his face like molten, white wax, and fire flamed from his nostrils like a dragon. The bullet, still expanding but undeterred, flew from his mouth into the wall of a house and the wood caught fire instantly.

The soldiers began to run for cover while firing back, and the people scattered into the forest. Marian didn't wait to see what the shot had done. She got to the soldier’s cruiser, switched to kinetic rounds, and then shot the pilot in the head.

She pushed his corpse out of the cockpit and then took the controls and powered it on. When the engines were ready, she lifted the vessel into the air and then tilted the vehicle. She activated the lower thrusters and then pushed the throttle up to maximum speed and blasted out of there.

As the cruiser picked up altitude and speed, the fire in the forest gave Marian a feeling of sadness for what had become of the beautiful village. She turned the cruiser northward and kept it low, trying not to think of what the fire would cost the innocents in property and life. It was out of anger that she had shot the soldier, and it was out of anger that she had left Rafian to come back to this world of pain and suffering. Maybe Rosa was right, Rosa who would now be burned alive within the pretty house that she had built for herself out of Felitian money.

“Good job, Marian,” she mumbled to herself. “You can now add Parricide to the list of atrocities committed here in Luca.” She sighed heavily, and pushed hard on the throttle, hoping there would be more juice to allow for her to get away even faster. She thought of flying back to Veece; she could rendezvous with Marika there and lay low for a time, but that would compromise the setup. She had to find a place where she could get hold of some long-ranged communications equipment and reach out to the rebels that had fled the planet.

No, Veece was definitely out; plus, if either Felitians or resistance fighters were to see a cruiser flying towards the northern territories, she knew she would be shot down. She recalled the mountain where she and Rafian had eloped. The area of Tyhera in which it stood was untamed and dangerous for anyone to explore. Rafian and his fellow monks had used it to hone their skills. It would be a good place to set up a reunion for the resistance, so she pulled up the navigation map and punched in the coordinates, then flew towards it for the better part of an hour.

When she reached the mountain that wrapped itself in a semi-circle around a scenic valley, she flew down into the basin where several waterfalls cascaded down from a flattened cliff face, down into a scenic, misty lake.

“Maker!” Marian gasped when she saw how beautiful it was. “No wonder I married you, Rafian, when you proposed to me here. This is something out of a thyping dream.”

She grabbed her gear from the seat next to her and pulled on the pack, then made sure that everything was secure and ready. When she was satisfied with her preparations, she drifted down into the mist and landed the cruiser inside of a shallow portion of the bubbling water. She navigated it close to the rocks and then opened the cockpit and jumped on to the shore. Water seemed to splash everywhere, but she didn’t hesitate in starting her climb up the face of the cliff. She touched her ear and ignored the crackling, then waited until she could hear Marika's voice.

“Cahlahluuu, it’s your favorite assassin on house arrest,” Marika’s sweet but deceptive voice intoned in her head from the nano-comm.

Marian was stressed from the day’s happenings, but couldn’t help but giggle at Marika’s attitude. “Going crazy in there, aren’t you?” she said.

Marika said, “I haven’t thrown my glaive into the door yet, so I would say I’m more bored than going crazy. You know that we Casanians are used to the open country, Rhee. Keeping one of us trapped within four walls for too long could yield terrible results.”

Marian thought about relaying the events of the day to Marika but decided to keep it to herself. Marika impressed her; she was a master of adaptation and espionage. The last thing she wanted to do was whine about a woman pretending to be her aunt to someone whose resume included the leveling of a city back on Anstractor. Plus, a near miss like the one she had experienced went better with wine, not over nano-comm.

“When all of this is done, remind me to tell you about my Aunt Rosa, Marika,” she said.

“Sounds very boring, but okay,” Marika said, sounding preoccupied.

“Whatever are you doing, Marika? I doubt you’re just sitting around,” Marian said.

“Oh, is that your way of asking me what I’m wearing? Well, I am in those tiny little shorts that I wear to bed, and I have on a very, very sheer top – I think it’s silk or something nicer, and my bare foot is on the wall—”

“You and your thyping foot fetish, Marika. Cut it out. What are you really doing?”

Marika chuckled and continued, “Well, as I was saying, my bare foot is on the wall, next to the window, while I stare into the scope of this nasty rifle of mine.”

Marian paused for a second to process the visual. She ignored the whole wardrobe or lack thereof that Marika described and tried to reason how she would have her foot on a wall while staring into her scope. She mentally flipped Marika around inside of her head and then settled on a picture of her seated on the edge of a bed, foot braced against the wall next to a window, aiming at someone with deadly intent.

“Marika,” Marian said in a low, motherly tone, “who are you aiming that thing at?”

“Well, it all started with me looking in at the police station to see how things worked out for my friendly survivor of last night’s raid,” Marika told her.

“Wait, what? You let one go?” Marian asked.

“I used that little bullet I showed you – from before. Shot that thyper through the shoulder, and sent him up the stream – literally. All I had to do next in order to leave the house was track him into Veece. Wait until he was stationary and then jump to his location. The crystal fell out, so I jumped in next to him … was kind of hoping that it was still inside that arm, would love to appear there and come through ripping it off, y’know?”

“You’re such a sweetheart, Marika. What would have happened if he had been in a room full of doctors mending that wound, or soldiers asking him questions?”

“I came in hot, Marian – I swear you forget who I am sometimes. THEY are lucky that nobody was present when I came in, not me. I wiped out an entire fleet in—”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. You don’t have to run down your resume of murder in Anstractor, Marika. I can’t help it that I care, okay? I’m just glad that you’re at the hotel and safe.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Marika joked, and smiled when it was met with silence and what she assumed was Marian punching something.

“I’m still waiting on you to answer my questions, you snippy little cruta,” Marian said.

“Okay, but it was you that interrupted me. Let me finish up my explanation now, okay?” she said and then paused to make sure that Marian complied before continuing. “So, anyway, I was checking the police station this morning when I saw my boy walking home, dejected. I think they either fired him or put him on leave or something. Whatever it was, he looked so pathetic that I didn’t know whether to run down there and give him a pity thype, or pull the trigger to end his misery. Didn’t opt for either. I mean, you and me, we do our thing, but my darling Vallen would not be okay with another man touching me. I’m sure it’s the same with you and Rafian.”

Marian stopped her climb to sigh loudly and roll her eyes. “Please tell me you’re joking about that load of schtill you just ran me down about the ‘rules’ in lovemaking, Marika. My piece of schtill husband thypes women nonstop, and you’re acting as if it’s funny that he’d be upset if I returned the favor?”

“You’re such a volatile sprinkling of spice. Do you know that, Rhee?” Marika laughed. “I bet you’re all jiggling everywhere and hot under the collar. I’m just joking, cruta, get a breath. Anyway, I watched him walk home and was about to go back to bed to laugh about it when all of a sudden I saw some commotion coming from the barracks.”

“What sort of commotion?” Marian asked, a hint of worry in her tone.

“The soldiers brought in a number of people, dressed like…like…hmm, they remind me of...” Marika paused to think on her comparison. “Yeah, have you ever been to a hub? Well, of course you have; you know how tattered and dirty they are in there. This is how the people looked that they brought to the station. They were being extra rough with them, too, bashing at their heads and whatnot. Anyway, I saw people cheering in the streets, so I just kept watching in case something drastic happened.”

“Those were rebel soldiers,” Marian said. “They are the allies we have here in Luca, and they are my and Rafian’s friends. Oh no, a Veece prison. We—we have to get them out somehow, Marika. If they stay in there until their farce of a trial, they will be tortured and killed. Hey, was there a Deijen, like a big muscly bald guy in robes with them? He’d be a light blue complexion with very … very kind eyes.” A lump caught in her throat and her heart raced in anticipation of Marika’s answer.

“I’m sorry, Rhee, but he was the first one they took inside. He was a warrior, though. Many of the others were crying and pleading for their lives, but not your friend. He took it like a Phaser.”

“It will take me a few days to get back, Marika. I got in trouble and had to leave the country,” Marian said. “I need to find a place that has a communications tower. Rafian and his men used to send covert details by satellite out here, so I’m gonna see about finding it.”

“Stick to your mission and I will do what I can to help your friends, Rhee,” Marika said. “This is what I’m trained to do and it is a lot more interesting than sitting in a hotel room, ‘staying safe’ for you. I’ll kill the Fels and get them out, and then I will radio you to let you know when it’s done.”

Memory 8

Blu had been captured. That was all Marian could think about as she got to the top of the cliff and walked to its edge. She peered out at the beautiful yellows, oranges and greens that comprised the expansive mountainside. It was on this same precipice where she and the then-rebel leader Rafian VCA had gotten married so many years ago. She looked down at the shiny black ring on her forefinger and rotated it slowly in remembrance.

“We should have stayed and finished the job, Rafian,” she said out loud. “Now our friends are dead or dying, and the Fels that you hated so much have complete control over the galaxy.”

The thunderous waterfall off to her right dropped down into the lake, and she watched as the cruiser become more and more submerged. She wanted to rush back to Veece, shoot up the police troopers, rescue her friends, and then start the assault on Talula. But that wasn’t an option.  She would have to find a way to contact the rebels on the other planets to ask them to fly into Talula and rescue Amanxa and the prisoners there.

The country was called Vyre, and it was one of the last places on the planet to be completely untouched by the technology and taint of the Felitian Empire.

Everything is a matter of adaptation, she thought, and looked down at the rifle which was a representation of this. The Felitian rifle was a versatile weapon, with a wide range of ammo-types that regenerated over time—a wonder of the carvyn cartridge, of course. It had a laser-knife, a torch, an extendable, two-foot cord, and it would act as a floatation device if thrown into water.

She walked back away from the precipice, towards the face of another cliff that led even higher up the mountain. The stream that trickled by came from another waterfall that flowed from the edge of this new cliff-face. There were thick trees near the stream, so she activated the laser-blade, walked the mile or so it took to get to the mountainside, and began to work on securing a camp for the night.

~ * ~

Marika Tsuno’s mind was all focus as she turned an area of her room into an assassin’s cache. She opened cases, screwed things together, flipped at switches, and laid out several sharp and dangerous-looking items on a sheet of white cloth that was so flawless, there wasn’t even a crease on the surface.

When she was finished, she stood up and looked at her arsenal. Unlike Marian, she had brought along several 3B suits for the mission. She was always prepared, and it was times like this when she praised her obsessiveness and promised herself that she would never change.

The rebels that she’d seen arrested had been taken to underground cells. With a city as big as Veece and the ongoing resistance problem, the cells would be extensive enough to separate the petty criminals from the ones they labeled as a threat to society.

She thought about rushing the police station, killing everything that moved, and working her way slowly to the cells, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. But that was a brutish plan with too many negative variables. One woman against an entire army required finesse, and finesse in this situation meant research, espionage, and working at night.

She opened up a tightly sealed package which popped up into a holographic, translation decoder. She would normally use this to hack into the networks of Vestalian and Geralos battleships, but the digital outlets in this strange new universe were too foreign for her to connect to them. She would have to do things the old and unconventional way, which was to find someone knowledgeable about the architecture of Veece and force them to give her a map or draw one out on paper.

Picking up the translator implant that was in her case, Marika clipped it behind her tiny ear and closed her eyes while her body adapted to it. She then powered on the entertainment device that came with the room and fumbled around on the strange keyboard until she found what could be considered Tyhera’s version of television.

She pulled up a news station and an attractive Tyheran woman began to speak rapidly. Marika kept quiet and watched the video, letting the translator absorb the language while she imitated the woman’s mannerisms.

The translator was a military tool that would pick up the visual and vocal cues to identify words and inflections. After cross-referencing this several times with other situations where the words were used, it would send it to your brain to file away, so that the next time you heard it, you automatically knew what it meant. Marika watched the television for twelve hours Vestalian time, going from news coverage to television shows, then a few movies, and then a number of game shows.

When the hour grew late, she went to the window and listened to the noise of the city. She tried to understand the shouts and loud conversations of the people. At first it was tough, and she struggled to keep up, but before long she knew what they were shouting. The hotel was close to a market and it was near the end of the day, when vendors would begin packing up. They were shouting out last minute deals, and trying to hustle patrons to get to their stores.

Marika reached into her bag and took out a case of makeup. She dabbed a tan foundation over her face, and slipped a pair of contact lenses into her eyes. She pulled on a wig and combed it to perfection, then put on a dress that was simple and discreet. When she stood up and observed her disguise in the mirror, she looked very much the part of a Tyheran lady, but she threw on a hooded coat to keep her warm and to hide the imperfections of her outfit.

She exited the room and bypassed the elevator to run down the long flights of stairs that led to the lobby. She brushed past a few visitors to gain the street and as she looked around, the anxiety she had felt began to slowly subside. The translator clicked on and began working hard when she passed the people in the street. She walked for a while until she reached the crowded downtown area of Veece.

There were red and blue neon lights hanging from the domed rooftops, and large, animated advertisements that showed Palus Felitious and his red guard in combat. Marika found it to be a cheesy spectacle but she was happy that she could read them all. One sign stood out above the rest and it read, “Report all suspicious activity.”

Marika found the contrast of natural, brick buildings combined with the advanced lighting on the signs to be a bit of a paradox. When she looked up at all the brilliance, she was reminded of the planet Meluvia in the Anstractor system. But when she looked around at the people in their sandals, shawls, and robes, it seemed to be a very ancient culture.

After walking for an hour, she dipped into a bar and took a seat near the back. It was overly crowded but no one bothered her as she absorbed their conversation and their general, drunken banter. One particular conversation piqued her interest: it was an off-duty trooper talking about new prisoners. He was saying that they would be detained for a month or so before a man he referred to as the ‘Red Lord’ would execute them publicly in the heart of downtown.

A pretty Carian girl walked over to her table, balancing a tray and displaying a look of struggle behind the straight, white teeth of a painfully false smile. She stood there for a time, fighting off the advances of a drunk and aggressive Deijen, then sat down across from Marika and sighed.

“Well, aren’t you friendly,” Marika joked, wondering why the waitress was sitting with her instead of standing and taking her order.

“Why don’t you take that hood off, sister? You’re supposed to be relaxed in here,” she said.

Marika carefully removed the hood and patted down the long, black hair of her wig. She watched the girl’s eyes to read for discovery and hoped that she wouldn’t be forced to take her head and slam it down into her upturned knife. But the girl only beamed and glanced around, so Marika relaxed and kept her knife at bay.

“Relaxed, eh? You should be taking your own advice.” Marika said, the Tyheran language flowing naturally from her tongue. It came out quickly, like a native born to speak the language, and Marika almost covered her mouth when she realized that she was talking.

“Relax in here and some shota’s hand would be up my…” The girl smiled and cleared her throat to stop herself from finishing the thought. “You’re cute. I like you. What can I call you, and what can I get you to drink?” she asked.

“Call me Rika, short for Marika. I’ll take a…you know what? Why don’t you surprise me?”

“Your eyes are interesting,” the Carian said with a look of innocent curiosity on her face. “You an outsider? Like, not an outsider – bad choice of words, but are you visiting? Veece, I mean. Maker, I can’t talk today. Are you visiting here on some business, Rika?”

“ARLA!” A gruff Ranalos shouted at her from the bar and with a motion so smooth it was like an assassin, the girl hopped to her feet, balanced the tray on her palm, and winked at Marika.

“I’ll be back with your drink and hopefully some more conversation,” she said as she left, and Marika watched her go with a new curiosity. The girl was a Carian, a beautiful race. They looked human but had hair that lightly covered their bodies. Carians had horns like the rams on the planet Vestalia, and this girl, Arla, had tiny horns that curled neatly over her hair and hooked back to the front beneath her ears.

Marika had thoughts of what she could do with those horns, but she refocused on her objective when she saw a trooper looking at her. She watched a pair of Carians kick over some chairs, then climb atop the tables to begin dancing. For all the bad that was going on in Luca, Marika realized that for the citizens of Veece, life was pretty sweet. They all seemed to either love their emperor or weren’t interested enough to care about his politics.

There seemed to be nothing but beauty in the world of Luca, at least to a blood-drenched Casanian orphan turned assassin, turned Phaser. The men and the women were pretty—like Marian, their world was beautiful, and their troubles all stemmed from one power-hungry man and his enemies.

The door kicked open all of a sudden, and a team of troopers marched in. One of them walked over to the deejay, who was an older Daltak. The trooper threw his equipment to the side and grabbed him by the neck.

“This man is a dangerous member of the Tyheran rebels,” one of the troopers announced and then dragged him out by his throat. After they left, another man—a Tyheran this time—picked up the music box and placed it back on the table. The dancing and drinking resumed as if nothing had happened.

Marika watched all this happen while the pretty Carian, Arla, placed a wine glass in front of her. The glass was filled to the brim with a yellow liquid, and there were tiny creatures jumping around on the surface of it. Marika looked up at her to see if it was meant to be a joke.

“Poor Orion,” Arla muttered as she placed the glass down. She turned to walk away.

“How much do I owe you?” Marika asked.

“Nothing. It’s on me, pretty lady,” Arla said, her once happy face saddened by what had just transpired.

“You knew that rebel?” Marika asked under her breath, and Arla stared at her as if trying to work out if she would admit more or shut her mouth. “Oh, come on, Arla, I am not a Felitian, so don’t worry about being honest with me.”

Arla reached across the table, lifted Marika’s drink and took a sip, then wiped her mouth and said, “Who cares, anyway? I was his friend. I mean, I’ve been his friend for about three months now. He taught me how to blow a horn the proper way, and he was just a very nice person.” She looked as if she wanted to cry. “I don’t think it’s true, this whole rebel thing, but even if it isn’t, they will just kill him to keep the rest of us in check. I’m so sick of this, Rika. You don’t understand. Enjoy the Swamp Sour, it’s our specialty, and my favorite drink here at Riyor’s.”

She spun and rushed back to the bar, and Marika knew that she had gone off to cry. She looked at the glass and its moving surface and then threw caution to the wind and took a sip. It was a cold, sweet joy to her lips, tongue, throat, and then her insides. She stared at the glass as if it would give up its secrets as she lifted it again and drank the rest.

“Veece is both terrible and amazing,” she muttered to herself in Tyheran, and then decided that it was a good time to leave the premises. She deposited a token card into the table and left Arla an extremely generous tip. She then stepped out to begin the long walk home, and when the cold air hit her, she pulled up the hood to cover her ears. About ten minutes in, she felt the effects of the drink and the night was no longer cold, but hot and exciting. Walking became floating and she let her hair flow, not even noticing the many stares she received as she slipped past the partygoers of the night.

“Let it flow sister, yeah!!” A human woman screamed drunkenly at Marika and let her own hair out from the complex bun that held it in place. A man who looked to be her husband caught up with her, then spun her around and slapped her in the face. Marika went for her knife but caught herself, then looked around, noticing for the first time that everyone was staring at her.

“Why are you staring at me when it’s this piece of crap that just slapped an innocent woman?” she screamed at them, her words slurred.

“Disgusting creature, control your hair!” a woman yelled and as she looked around she realized that none of the other Tyheran women wore their hair down like she did.

Marika stumbled away and pulled up her hood, disappointed that a crowd of women were okay with a large man slapping a tiny woman. She made special effort to commit the man’s face to memory. He better be on a transport out of here in the morning, she thought, or tomorrow when I’m on my rifle, I will find him in the crowd and blow his thyping head off.

Memory 9

When Marian first jumped to Luca, she thought that the snowy moon was freezing cold. But that was a sauna compared to the temperature on the side of the mountain. She was adding the finishing touches to an elaborate lean-to when the cold sent daggers through her fingers and made them numb. She was still wet and the night air was freezing, but she was determined to finish the hut that would keep her dry and hidden from any patrols.

Marian secured the logs and adjusted the branches, blocking any hole that she could see. She wondered if she had enough bushes to conceal the shelter from the Fels. When she trained as a Phaser, part of the survival course had been to build a lean-to out of fallen branches. It was very much like the one she had to build now, a rushed shelter, which was undetectable by the enemy. She felt unsure and out of practice, and though the shelter was imperfect, she hoped it would be enough to keep her alive.

After torturing herself with doubts and suppositions, she decided that what she’d built would have to do. She needed warmth, so she went inside and gathered some of the stones she had collected earlier. She powered down the rifle’s laser blade and turned on the torch to heat the rocks. These were “Tyheran coals,” a strange phenomenon that was exclusive to her planet. They were often used for the worst kind of torture, but tonight she intended to use them for survival.

She pointed the torch towards the ground and burned a semicircle near her toes. It felt good, having that warmth, but she caught herself immediately. What if you burned your toes off, you silly girl? she scolded herself. You can’t clone here or heal it away. Think, Marian, think!

She heated the stones and piled on more until she made a pyramid of intense heat. Her plan worked, but it grew too hot and before long she was tempted to remove her clothes. She took out her water bottle and splashed the stones but this made things much worse. Steam rose from the rocks and burned her skin and she punched the ground in frustration.

“I am so terrible at this outdoorsy stuff,” she said, and then lay on a bed of leaves and mounted her rifle. She kept the barrel pointed at the entrance in case anything decided to follow her in. She rustled around, trying to get comfortable, and then pulled more leaves in to form a pillow to rest her head.

Marian closed her eyes and tried to summon sleep, but the only thing she could focus on was the heat. The night grew dark, then light again, then the bright moon of Talula illuminated the forest. She gripped her knife and held it to her chest and allowed her hood to fall away from her head. She thought of Blu and the other rebels, and wondered if they had warmth within their cells.

Then there were those innocents in Rosa's village. Would Rafian, if it were he and not she in that situation, have left them there to suffer like she did? The fire had been intense, so much so that the line of smoke was still visible in the air when she was miles away on her escape. "We're supposed to be the good guys," she mumbled, "but I just reacted angrily and left them to burn."

She could hear Rafian's voice inside her head. "You didn't owe those people a thing." That would have been his way of consoling her, and it wouldn't have helped to remove her guilt. She imagined her impassioned and screaming at him, crying. “Shut up, Rafian!” she was saying, but was fast asleep before she could complete the scene.

~ * ~

Marika Tsuno walked towards the police station with such a presence that to an onlooker it would seem as if she owned Veece, and was lowering herself to walk amongst the “lower” people. She pushed her way past several Tyherans and didn’t even bat an eye at their objections as she climbed the steps to gain the dusty entryway. On her slender, muscular form was a brown jumpsuit, the pants tucked into long black boots. She had left the tan paint on from the night before, and her wig was wrapped up and adorned in jewels.

She stepped inside the building and looked around. There were troopers in shiny black suits milling about, and a number of rusty androids performed their mundane duties with little care for anything else.

Marika walked in and pushed open a pair of large black doors to reveal an interior that was a direct contrast to the dusty entrance room. The black stone floors were polished to perfection and seemed to reflect just about everything. Hologram messages were popping out of the screens in the walls, and the technology reminded her a little of Anstractor. A number of vid screens displayed troopers in action, and the only furniture was a desk and a set of black, stone benches that seemed to be built out of the wall.

“May I help you?” a young man asked from behind the rather tall desk.

Marika smiled as she took in the layout of the place. There were numerous doors, most unmarked, and the ceiling, even though translucent, was stingy in letting the sunlight in. She was awed by the architecture and—

“May I help you?” the trooper asked again.

“Sorry, patrolman, I’m here on business. I came to see if you have my servant in one of your cells,” she said in the best version of elitist, Veece-borne dialect that she could muster.

“We might,” the trooper said impatiently. He lifted a panel to step out and regarded her with some interest. “Your servant. When was she arrested?” he asked.

“He,” Marika corrected him and then lifted her handkerchief to smell its perfume in an odd gesture that women of Veece often used. “He’s a Deij, a terrible but delicate brute. His skin is like the sky and his eyes a deeper blue. He’s been missing since the night before last, if I can recall.”

“If you can recall?” the trooper asked, cocking an eyebrow at her as if suspicious.

“I don’t know, he’s my husband’s pet—I mean, assistant, so I’m not positive,” Marika said.

The trooper was used to people looking in on their loved ones when they got arrested, but this lady was a paradox that was making him crazy. First, she had crystals in her hair that women wore when seeking a suitor, and second, she came to the station by herself. Women of the elite class, particularly married women, did not adorn their hair, and they did not step into dirty police stations unless their servants were carrying them.

“Who are you, really, Sha’an? What are you doing? How do I know you’re not a rebel, come to bust your comrades out?”

Marika realized she had done something wrong. “Excuse you?” she replied angrily, slipping the handkerchief back into her belt and touching the hilt of her hidden blade. “Answer my question, you filthy wage earner, before I really get upset. It’s bad enough that I had to step foot in this dirty cesspool, let alone explain myself to you. Let me ask you this, do you all ever sweep up the entrance to this thing?”

The trooper let the sting of the “wage earner” slur dissipate as he stood with his eyes closed. The woman may have been a paradox to his eyes, but the words that assaulted his ears were the genuine insults of a Tyheran Sha’an.

“Ma’am, forgive me. Allow me to look into our files and I will let you know if we have a Deijen matching that description.”

The trooper cut his eyes as he turned away from her and returned to his desk to look through the files. He pulled up the pictures of all the Deijen prisoners and then slid one of them up towards the top of the screen. A number of lights danced on the top of the desk and then a live, hologram display showed Blu pacing restlessly in his cell.

“That him?” he asked, and Marika stared.

“Not sure. I would have to see up close to be certain,” she said.

“That cannot happen without a signed permit from the Red Lord himself, sha’an. This holo is the best I can give you for now.”

Marika watched the trooper to see if he was lying, but didn’t read anything within his face or mannerisms to suggest it. She nodded at him and forced a smile, then walked up to the hologram and looked at Blu. The image was so vivid in its three-dimensional rendering that she felt as if she could reach in and grab him to make a run for it. She saw a number of troopers open one of the unmarked doors and what she saw behind them was a staircase leading down.

“Excuse me, officers, were you just down in the cells?” she asked, and a tall dark-skinned Tyheran nodded and walked over to her.

“What if we were?” he asked, his eyes suggesting that he was up to a bit of mischief.

“Never mind, I’m not in the mood,” she replied and then turned to the original officer, smiling again. “You know these beasts from Deij are not very cheap,” she said with a sigh, and then mouthed the words for, “Thank you.”

The trooper bowed his head and touched his forehead like a gentleman, and Marika turned and walked out of the tall exit doors. She crossed the street to find a lift station and then took a taxi back to her hotel. She walked into the café that was in the hotel lobby, took a seat near the bar, and thought about what she had seen. The police headquarters was a circular structure—like most in Veece—but it had underground chambers as was evidenced by the stairs leading down.

She wondered just how deep the network of rooms and hallways went beyond the stairs. Was it a complicated hive of activity, like an ant’s nest, or was it simply a few rooms carved out of the soft, subterranean rock?

When a nervous, young Pirian waiter came over to her, she looked up at him and batted her eyes. Pirians favored humans but had taller, knife-like ears. They would reveal a lot of their emotions through those ears, and this one’s fluttered like butterfly wings when he saw Marika.

“Why hello, handsome,” Marika remarked and the boy’s smile widened, revealing a neat set of teeth. She reached up and touched his freckled face and he looked around nervously. It wasn’t every day that a Tyheran noblewoman flirted with him, and he didn’t know how to take it.

“H-hi,” he stammered and then swallowed hard. “Is-is there anything I can get you?”

“Swamp Sour, cutie-pie, and go light on the bugs. But before you go I need to ask you a question,” Marika said.

“A-anything!” the boy almost shouted, then covered his mouth with embarrassment. “I mean, sure, how may I serve you, Sha’an?”

“I am in need of a bodyguard, someone who knows his way around the city. Do you know of any tough guys, preferably a former trooper that knows how the law works in this city?” she asked, and then sat back coolly to watch his face.

He didn’t seem to react as someone would if they were suspicious of her, but more like someone who would do anything to help. “There’s Grei, old sergeant Grei; he could probably help. He comes here once a week, to…” His voice trailed off as his pale pink face turned red.

“Does Grei bring prostitutes here, young man?” Marika asked, knowing the answer before he could nod affirmatively.

“What day of the week does he come in here?” she asked, keeping her voice even to continue the hypnosis that it had on the boy.

“Should be here tomorrow, if his pattern stays true. He gets one of the lower rooms of the hotel – doesn’t like them to stick around too long after he’s finished,” he said, smiling bashfully.

When Marika didn’t return the smile, he stood up straight. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to … I’ll get your drink now, Sha’an,” he said and then scurried off.

~ * ~

Marian woke up to a ticklish sensation on her nose and she sat up suddenly with her knife in front of her. There was a pink mountain bunny sitting back on its haunches, staring at her, and she sighed with relief when she saw it. Mountain bunnies were extremely friendly in the wilder areas of Tyhera, and this one had wormed its way into the shelter, spent the night, and then woke her up.

The Phaser stretched her aching limbs and rubbed her eyes. The sun was up and the cold had subsided. She stood up and walked outside with her rifle at the ready, and was quite surprised that the bunny hopped beside her. “Hop away, you cute little adventurer, or I may end up keeping you,” Marian teased.

The bunny looked up at her curiously and then stood like that for a time.

Marian sighed and reached into her pack and pulled out some dried fruit. She sprinkled it on the ground for the rabbit and he gobbled it up and then hopped away.

“So that’s how you’re gonna be?” Marian said, smiling with amusement. “Just gonna eat from me and run off? It’s okay, we’re even. That’s my thank you for waking me up, anyway.”

She was surprised at how long she had slept, and she scanned the skies to make sure there were no Felitian troopers in the area. She went back into her shelter and pulled out her grooming supplies, then proceeded to clean her teeth, her ears, and her face. When she was finished cleaning up, she ate some of the jerky with the dried fruit, and used the bushes to relieve herself. After about an hour or so she was ready to travel, and she demolished the shelter and scattered the branches to destroy the evidence.

She slung her pack across her back, along with the rifle, and then touched her ear to call Marika before starting up the mountain again. The familiar crackling was so loud that she thought it would damage her eardrums, but before long Marika was on the other end talking to her in Tyheran.

“Marian, are you alright?” she asked, and it took Marian some time to get over the shock of Marika speaking in her native tongue. “How in the world are you speaking in Tyheran, Marika?”

“Old assassin secret, Phaser girl. One that I’d have to kill you over if I reveal it to you,” she said.

“You’re such a cruta about your little gadgets, I swear. But it’s okay, you can keep it a secret. I’m just impressed that you speak it so well in what, three days? So what’s your status? Find out anything about my friends?” Marian asked.

“Yes, your big Deijen friend is in the prison under the city and I am working on a way to get him out,” Marika said.

“Oh thank the makers for a friend like you, Marika Tsuno,” Marian said as she climbed. “I am way out in the sticks, off the Felitian grid, so coming back to rescue them would have been a bit of a stretch for me.”

“That and you would have your hands full getting in there to try it,” Marika said.

“What do you mean?” asked Marian.

“I mean that they run a pretty tight ship inside of that station, and though I never got a chance to check out the prison network, I wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t littered in recorder holos and guards. This is going to take a true professional to get them out, Marian. It is above your station, if you know what I mean. I’m going to have to blow some things up and murder troopers to get inside of there. What I will need you to do is to get us a transport for the escape, once I have them outside the walls of the city.”

“I’ll get it done,” Marian said evenly.

“That I know for a fact you will,” Marika said. “You’re no assassin but you’re a great Phaser, and above all else, you’re reliable.”

Memory 10

I was foolish to have come back without him, Marian thought as she stood at the edge of the mountain, staring down at the ruins of a temple that sat on an island in the middle of a secluded lake. Had she not climbed up the way she had to gain the apex, she would have easily missed it. The structure was several hundred feet below where she stood and what bordered the lake was a thick jungle, untamed, and endless from what she could see.

Marian coughed. The cold air and lack of a good night’s sleep made her body struggle. She felt as if she was getting sick, but she was not going to let that slow her down. She lay in the grass and put the scope of the rifle to her eye. She used it to scan the ancient, stone building but there was no movement to indicate that anybody still lived there.

She scanned the tiny island on which it stood, and noticed that it had grass and weeds that grew liberally where they could. There were no traces of a broken path where feet would have stepped, or tools near the water where they would have fished for survival.

I wonder if the Mera Ku monks had the means to communicate with the resistance from that temple, she thought. Of course they did; Rafian had practically lived there. Though the drop was lethal if she tried to descend, it was worth investigating in order to make contact with the resistance.

She took out one of the crystals, taped it to a large stone, then got to her feet and gauged the distance. She took a step and heaved it over the edge, and after a pause and the holding of her breath, she cheered as the stone fell in the grass near the temple. Again, she got to the scope and scanned the area to see if anything or anyone had noticed the stone.

When nothing happened after a couple minutes of watching, Marian used another crystal to open up a portal. She stepped through the torn reality to emerge on the island where the crystal rock had dropped. The hairs on her arms stood up and a deep chill caused her to shiver as she observed the ancient building in front of her.

There were two large statues bordering the door, facing one another in fighting poses. The one on the right reminded her of Rafian: he was in robes and seemed calm as he held the hilt of a sword at his waist. His opponent—on the left side of the door—was more aggressive and he was unarmed, with balled up fists.

She could tell that, for a long time, the temple had been taken care of, but now it was old, mildewed and quickly becoming a part of the grassy island’s landscape. She summoned her strength, pulled out her knife, and ascended the stairs that ran between the warrior’s legs. When she got inside, she expected it to be pitch black, but the holes in the damaged ceiling brought in beams of light that illuminated an empty room with a spiral staircase leading down. Marian shouldered her bag and moved her hand to the hilt of her blade as she descended the dark, musty staircase.

When the stairs leveled out there was a large, circular room whose floor—or lack thereof—dropped off into darkness. There was light here on the tall walls, stacked torches that seemed to require no fuel or power source. Marian’s heart went to her throat as she gripped the wall near the staircase. If she were to step too far to the left or right, she would plummet to her death. Or something worse.

She saw that the platform was the only surface in the room. It stretched out toward the center like an arm, then stopped and became a large circular platform bordered on all sides by decorative stone chairs. She stared at the platform and tried to imagine her husband sitting on one of the chairs, discussing the politics of their world with other powerful monks.

Cautiously, she walked across the stone bridge, staying as close to the center as she could, dropping a crystal just in case, and keeping another between the fingers of her left hand. The platform was only about six feet in width and when she reached the center she inhaled loudly, happy that it hadn’t thrown her off or crumbled beneath her feet.

When she reached the center, a noise from above her startled her even more. The ceiling of the temple began to spin and a number of motors began making noises around her. Suddenly, a spotlight illuminated the chairs and a beam of light shone upon where she stood.

“So, you guys would come in here as a group, sit on those chairs, and your leader would stand in the center and talk,” she said. “Was my Raf the leader?”

She walked over to one of the chairs and sat down. The stone chair felt like heaven to her backside and she closed her eyes and soaked it all in. The motors grew silent and the light dimmed, and suddenly there were words in her head, words that sounded like Rafian’s but spoken in Tyheran.

I have received word that our beloved order is corrupt... not one, but two supposed vipers have been let in and I assume this is the cause for our inactivity. After talking with a close friend within, I was told that one of the accused is a person I myself had brought in. The thought of it makes me sick, and as I sit here making this recording, I am almost assured that they are incorrect in this assumption.

There is also talk of a supposed “dark one” within our order, secretly manipulating members with threats and spies. It makes me laugh, partly because I cannot fathom anyone of that importance. This should make things interesting for those who want drama, but I’ve decided to stay out of it all. I am just disturbed that someone I brought in could be a snake.

Another issue that has surfaced is that of jealousy and hate for my new wife. A beautiful woman like Rienne will always have admirers. Even the ghosts of her past return to haunt her with taunts and threats. For me, it hasn't been much different. After telling Iharia about my wife, she revealed to me that she had always loved me. She sounded as if she was merely teasing me but she assured me that it was genuine. How sad, she was quite an impressive monk and first student … our time together (sigh) better I let it be. If only I had known her true feelings.

I think back to an earlier conversation that I had with Iharia about the old order. She feared them back then, and hid herself away when they called her. “Not all actions deemed as necessary are good, Iharia,” I had said. “So I understand why you hid: the old order blinded itself with strict rules that were built out of fear.”

The image of a beautiful, young Ranalos girl appeared in Marian’s mind as the words faded, accompanied by a deep feeling of sadness. She jumped, Marian thought as she stood up from the mysterious chair. She jumped to her death when Rafian told her about me. And how was I able to hear his comm-link? she wondered. It has been ages since he was here. She looked down at the chair and saw that lights were now dancing along its stony surface. Everything here is unnatural, she thought. I won’t be sitting there again.

She found it difficult to fathom how Rafian had kept such a tragic and heartbreaking event from her back when they were living in Cally. He had always seemed so happy and sweet to her. She felt as if she didn’t know her husband. She knew that he did love her, but felt that he didn’t trust her enough to share his real self with her. Then there was his need to be with women other than herself. Most times their love felt predestined, like one of those romances in the vids, but then he would pollute it, and remind her that he had slept with every woman in the Anstractor galaxy.

There was a knot in her throat as she thought about Iharia, and how she valued her life so little that she didn’t want to live without the love of her master.

“You will never drive me to suicide, Rafian, that I can promise you,” she whispered.

As she made to exit the strange meeting room, she noticed that there was a panel on the side of the chair nearest to the stairs. She marched over to it and touched it and a loud noise brought her to attention. She looked around, expecting to see troopers running down the stairs, but was only greeted with silence.

Nothing happened for a few seconds, but then the platform began to vibrate and stairs grew on the side, leading down into the blackness. As the stairs appeared, more torches turned on to light the way. Marian threw caution to the wind and began to descend them. After a few minutes of this mysterious descent, she found herself inside an enormous arena bordered on all sides by tall, stone statues.

There were old bones on the ground, and on the walls were murals of robed men and women performing different forms of martial arts.

“You trained here, didn’t you, Raf?” she said out loud as she walked around the arena, taking in the layout of it all. “This seems like the sort of place that secretive monk orders like your Mera Ku would send its new recruits. Here you would have to fight for the glory of becoming one of them, reaping the powerful benefits. How many men did you have to kill, husband?” she whispered into the air, but she knew that Rafian would never tell her.

“You trained your beloved Iharia, made her into a weapon, then broke her heart when you told her about me,” she whispered. “Spirit of Iharia, I am so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t know about the Mera Ku, about you, about my husband’s powers …”

Powers, powers, what sort of powers did a ritual in this scary place grant its members? she wondered. Mera Ku monks had a mystic meditation that they used to heal and punish in equal measure. She didn’t know much about them, other than the tiny hints that Rafian would drop whenever they spoke about it. The monks were secretive, dangerous, and of a limited number; that she knew. I wonder if there are any left, she thought.

A slight breeze touched Marian on the back of her neck and she spun with her knife ready as her backpack fell to the floor. There was no one there and the only sound came from the echo that the bag made when it hit the ground. She was annoyed and perplexed by the entire thing so she quickly picked up the bag and dusted it off.

“Okay, I am in a ruined temple that has a lot of mystic power. Wait, no. I am in a ruined temple with a spirit or two that probably hates me,” she said, and then sighed before running up the stairs to the platform. “Nothing happens without a reason, and the chairs seem to tap into messages from the past. Phaser up, Rhee; you need to find out more,” she said, then sat down in the chair that held the control panel.

She was seated for a while before she reached down and touched the panel to bring the stairs back up. When they were all raised and the place was silent, she felt her mind drifting once again and in came Rafian’s voice, low, dark, and sad.

Lucci is dead; the brothers that I bled with for these last two years are all dead. All that I have left is Mera Ku. I want to stop coming to the temple; it isn’t the same without Lucci. This path is such a lonely one, I thought that marriage and the success we’ve had as a resistance would make things easier, but alas—.

Marian stood up and collected her things. She didn’t know why she was able to hear her husband’s old recordings within the temple, but she didn’t like it. The entire thing felt like eavesdropping, and there was nothing to learn from it other than pain. To be honest, it was just too much, too much of him, and she was still not ready to remember him the way she did when she had fallen in love with him.

She ascended the staircase to the top floor and as she made to exit, she noticed that there was a door that she hadn’t seen before. She pressed it and it slid open, leaving a cloud of thick dust that forced her to hold her breath.  She stepped inside and torches similar to the ones she saw downstairs illuminated a sort of library. There were many desks with wooden chairs and walls lined with books, scrolls, and holo-recorder chips. She almost jumped with joy when she saw lights dancing on the equipment, for it meant that they were functional and it was what she needed to call for help.

~ * ~

Marian dusted off the equipment, then sat down in front of one of the recorders and turned it on. The planets of the Lucan galaxy appeared above the platform in brilliant, holographic detail, and she used her hand to rotate them, smiling with nostalgia. She touched the planet Lochte and it grew in size until it was the only orb floating in front of her. She looked at the dark yellow surface and the algae in the atmosphere which made the planet appear a muted orange from a distance. On the planet’s surface blinked a number of lights and when she touched one, the hologram shuddered as if experiencing interference and a low voice asked her to speak the password.

Oh no, Marian thought, and then sat for a minute, trying to figure out what the password would be. She thought of Rafian and the things he would do and say that were of the Mera Ku. Nothing came to mind and she stood there panicking, expecting that at any moment an alarm would blare out and the temple would begin its self-destruct sequence.

“FOR THE ALLIANCE!” she blurted out suddenly, remembering the words Rafian had used so often when he was with his resistance fighters. A dark cowl that hid the details of an aged face appeared above the platform and the old, cracked lips moved up and down, then words, deep and frightening, echoed into her head.

“WHO … ARE … YOU?” it asked, and Marian didn’t know what would be an appropriate answer. She thought about using Rafian’s name: it would be in the Mera Ku and the resistance database. But what if it was some sort of ancient trick, made to catch liars who would steal a monk’s identity?

She froze, her eyes large and frightened as she looked at the dark figure’s face. It’s a Mera Ku thing, she thought; it will require a Mera Ku answer. If it was on Anstractor and within the Phaser Academy, the appropriate answer would have been “a person, I am a person,” but Mera Ku monks delighted in being invisible.

She thought again of her husband, back when he was here on Tyhera. Then she cleared her throat and replied: “I AM NOBODY.”

The old face smiled, then faded into nothingness, and again the planet appeared. It stayed in place for a few seconds and then spun to the area that she had touched and zoomed in to that locale.

Suddenly she was looking at a large, brown tent that was made from an animal’s hide.  Behind it stood a network of other tents, and a lake that reminded her of green pea soup.

The planet looked hot, dry, and uncomfortable, but the sky was beautiful and reminded her of Tyhera. A dull humming came from the holo-platform, and she recognized it as an indicator that someone was being summoned. The scene of the tents blinked off suddenly and was replaced by the face of an angry Ranalos. The scarred, intimidating face of the man regarded her without saying a word.

“H-hello?” Marian managed as the man looked to his right and then his left.

“You’re no monk. Why did you call us?” he asked gruffly, and Marian could see that he was still in bed, looking at a holo which must have been on the floor next to him.

“I need your help. I’m calling from an abandoned temple on Tyhera,” she replied.

“Oh yeah? A Tyheran needing help from old Raasa? Well, ain’t that rich. Who are you? Prove that you ain’t one of the Felitian’s henchmen or I kill this transmission and send somebody to kill you,” he said.

Marian held up the shiny black ring that was on her forefinger, and spun it around so the rare crystals inside of it would be reflected on the hologram’s light.

“You see this?” she asked. “This is the ring given to me by Rafian. Do you know his name? Of course you do. I am his wife!”

The Ranalos cursed and a female’s face came into the picture and stared at her ring before retreating. The male returned and she noticed that his face had softened and he seemed a lot friendlier. “So, you’re the pit that stole our brother away from the cause, eh? That ring, you’d do better to keep it out of sight than to be flashing it as I.D., if you know what I mean. I wouldn’t have known it from a standard fake. Drakes are extinct now, thanks to the Fels and their bombs. So, that ring you have, as far as my people are concerned … it’s worth a fortune.” He licked the narrow brown line that could be considered his lips.

Marian tucked her hand away and tried to summon breath back into her lungs.

It wasn’t a month ago that she had thrown the ring at Rafian with disgust, and had thought about chucking it into the sea just to spite him. Now she was hearing that it was a one-of-a-kind, a relic borne from a majestic dragon creature that had been made extinct by the enemy.

She cleared her throat and forced a smile. “So, the help thing. I—I need the help of you and the other fighters on Lochte. One of our moons was struck by a scortchet bomb,” she said.

“You don’t say?” the Ranalos said. “The first place they dropped one of those was right here in the great sand ocean of Lochte, Wife of Raf.”

“It’s Marian, actually,” she corrected him, and then felt foolish for doing it immediately.

“If you want people to stop questioning your identity, you may want to use the moniker I gave you,” he replied slowly to drive his point home. You mean the moniker Blu gave me, Marian thought, but then she nodded and motioned for him to continue. “Why ask us? We are on a different planet. We aren’t exactly close to you, Wife of Raf,” he said.

Marian replied, “The resistance here and on our moon has been decimated. This includes our small towns, our Mera Ku monks, and our hideouts. The Fels are routinely hunting and killing any rebels they come across, and I need your help because someone has to get our friends off of that moon. Several of us met and planned to do it, but many were captured and now face execution.”

“I see that nothing has changed for your needy planet,” the Ranalos said, looking at someone off-screen and laughing at something they said. “Will there be Fels to kill, or is this one of those weak missions where some self-important shaal tells us that casualties should be kept to a minimum?”

“This is my detail, and I’m no shaal – whatever that means. I want your desert raiders to bathe in Felitian blood. There are no rules where they are concerned, so if you can come in, rescue my friends, and kill the Fels, Tyhera will owe you the biggest of favors.”

The Ranalos smiled and nodded, then looked off screen and laughed. “You’re like him, you know? You’re like your husband. They call me Illi, the desert drake. I fought with Rafian when he came to Lochte and won Samael his city back. I don’t know if he spoke about us when he was alive, but we had good times back then.”

Marian wondered if she should tell Illi that Rafian was alive but thought better of it.

“Why don’t you tell me the coordinates of the prisoners on that moon,” Illi said, as if reading her thoughts. “And we will see what we can do in the upcoming week.”

Memory 11

Life was grand for Sergeant Grei Rielles, at least life after his career as a Veece trooper. What felt like a lifetime of writing citations, kicking down rebel doors, and kowtowing to decorated men half his age had led to a retirement fully paid for by the city of Veece. His pension afforded him a large house near the Emperor’s palace, several acres of Tyheran land, and five serviceable worker droids that kept the place spotless.

There were times when the old job would require his services—being that he knew better than most how the law worked—but they always paid him, and it was normally something small like making a holo call or looking over some paperwork. Recently he had been brought in to examine fragments from an alien bullet. The young trooper that had been shot with it swore that he had come across a woman with near-red skin and solid black eyes who used alien weaponry. There were no beings on any of the twelve planets that matched those features so they had settled on it being a disguise: perhaps a new organization that was helping the rebels.

Grei was retired but he had been a lifelong trooper, and most of the time he found it entertaining to laugh at how soft the new generation was. Another incident that had made some waves was the capture of a nest of rebels. Apparently the rebels too had grown soft over time, since the number they had brought in was significant. Still, it was remarkable, and a testament to the Red Lord’s insistence that all rebels meet the bullet of a pistol.

He sat in the lobby of the hotel, sipping on his beer and waiting for his Primian courtesan to return. This was one of his favorite things about being a retired widower on an elite Veece pension. The galaxy was his oyster, and most importantly, the galaxy’s women were his banquet.

The beautiful, olive-colored courtesan walked in, her hips swaying rhythmically below a sheer, beaded frock. Her outfit left little to the imagination and all eyes were on her shape as she walked—seeming to float—back to the fat, grizzled, old Tyheran who was too busy ogling another Primian to notice her. As she approached him her moves became robotic, and she placed the large bowl of cheese balls on a small table and wormed her way into his arms. Normally Grei would have picked up on this change in her demeanor, but he only seemed to notice her when she touched him.

“Ahh, there you are, Delyi. I was starting to think someone had stolen you,” he joked.

“No one would dare,” the beauty replied in broken Tyheran with a sugary sweet voice. There was something off about it though, and Grei held her back and stared at her.

“You’re acting all fidgety. What’s going on with you, baby doll?”

She leaned into him and whispered, “I was stopped. W-we’re in a lot of trouble.”

“What do you mean, ‘a lot of trouble?’ Who in the ferut would dare?” he cursed.

“A Tyheran lady, a very mean and direct one, who—” her explanation was broken by his laughter as Grei exploded after imagining a Tyheran woman admonishing his girl for her job and status. He found it so funny that he almost choked.

“A Tyheran lady, you say? And here I thought there was real trouble. Oh, come on girl, you may as well have told me that you stubbed your toe. Is that what took you so long? I should dock your pay, you stupid an—”

“I’m wearing a bomb, and she will detonate it if you attempt to run away from me or cause a scene,” Delyi said suddenly. Her eyes were wide and her fingers were on a mission to dig themselves into his bicep. “She said to tell you that she is a professional, way beyond anyone’s caliber that you have seen. Cross her in any way and she will collapse the hotel and then find your son and use him for her needs instead.”

“She knows about my son,” Grei said softly. There was an invisible hand clutching his heart and what felt like a second hand with claws clutching his stomach. “Wh—what does she want?” he asked, looking into the pretty woman’s face for the first time.

“She’s in this room,” Delyi replied and then scribbled down a number on a piece of paper.

Grei read the note and looked past Delyi at the off-yellow wall of the lobby. Threats were nothing new, even to family members; chances were this woman was an ex-flame looking to extort him. There had been extortions in the past, and all he had to do then—like he intended to do now—was to remind her how connected he was as an ex-trooper. “I was getting bored sitting down here anyhow,” he said out loud.

He stood up, tucked in his shirt, and touched Delyi on the waist, then escorted her to the elevators. He looked around to see if he could see who the mysterious Tyheran lady was. But the lobby was packed, and though some looked suspicious, none seemed to be the one that was threatening him. “Let’s go see who mystery lady number five is that needs my money. Sorry about this baby doll, it was supposed to be all about you tonight.” He didn’t notice that despite her terror, Delyi rolled her eyes.

They stepped into the elevator and rode it up to the eighth floor. When they stepped off and walked to the room, they found the door ajar and pushed it open to go inside. As soon as Delyi passed the threshold, a foot came out of nowhere and kicked her onto the bed. A hand came up and around to muffle Grei’s cries and a single bullet was delivered to Delyi, stopping her movement instantly as she struggled to turn around. Grei felt as if it was the last few moments of his life, so he struggled to fight back, despite the firm grip the person had on him.

He felt the force of his attacker pushing him forward and as he spun to see his face, the sound of a pistol being fired caught his ear and the world went dark in an instant.

~ * ~

Marika picked up the woman named Delyi and injected her with a clear liquid. She woke up shaking and crying, then tried to scream when she saw her Casanian features.

“Hush up before I shoot you with a live round. Do you understand me?” she asked the girl, who nodded quickly after clasping her hands to her mouth. Marika saw the subtle differences in her features that separated her race from the Tyherans. She had beautiful, smooth skin, but on the surface it had a pattern, very similar to scales.  She reached down and touched her arm—too curious not to—and her skin was soft to the touch.

Marika had other curiosities and the woman recognized this and relaxed herself to let the assassin carry out her investigation. When she realized that her lustful curiosity had gotten the better of her, Marika refocused and gently removed the woman’s hands from her mouth.

“You don’t need to fear me. I came for him,” Marika said, reaching behind her ear and removing the tiny bomb she had clipped there.

“What are you?” Delyi asked, and Marika sat next to her and relaxed her shoulders.

“Even if I wanted to tell you that, beautiful, it would go right over your head. I’m not from here, but you probably figured that. I know you take money from that slob so that he can thype you, but none of that will be going on tonight, so we need to discuss your silence.”

“What is thype?” Delyi asked. She glanced at Grei’s slumped over body, as if the answer would come from it.

Marika made an obscene gesture with her hands to demonstrate to Delyi what she meant. Delyi smiled and nodded happily.

So that makes you happy, eh? Marika thought, then touched the Primian’s cheek gently. “If you can keep your mouth shut, I will not hurt you,” Marika said to her, and Delyi gestured that her lips were sealed.

“I have no cause to be loyal to him, or any of the men who pay for our services,” she said. “This one is aggressive and calls us animals. He breaks the rules, does things that our master disallows, but then we cannot talk about it.”

“Oh yeah? So this one is a real slime ball, is that what you’re telling me?” Marika asked. “And what do you mean by ‘our’ master? Are you some sort of slave?”

Delyi raised the frock to reveal her upper thigh, then bent over and showed Marika a black band with a jewel. To outsiders, this would have seemed to be a decorative part of her ensemble, but it was a digital link, one that kept track of her so that her master—whomever he/she was—could find her if she tried to escape.

“Why don’t you just take it off?” Marika asked.

Delyi sat back up on the bed and shrugged. “Even if I tamper with it, they would know. But they aren’t completely cruel to us; we can eventually buy our way out of service,” she said, smiling.

Marika narrowed her eyes into slits and stared at her. The girl seemed to smile at everything. It was off-putting, and it seemed to serve as a cover for her true emotions. It reminded her of Meluvian servant girls who were trained that “men like smiles.” But she was not a man, and it annoyed her that Delyi was smiling when she had just threatened her life.

“What’s the youngest girl that you’ve seen buy her freedom, whatever your name is?”

“It’s Delyi, and the youngest was …” She paused as if thinking, then put her face into her hands and sat back, feeling foolish. “I haven’t met anyone who has saved up the one hundred Felitian credits,” she finally said.

“That’s what I thought. Hold still,” Marika said, and then slipped the blade of her las-sword beneath the band and powered it on with the edge pointing away from her skin and on the band. The edge of the blade became a white-hot laser, and the black bland fell away from her leg as if it was paper.

“MAKER!” Delyi squealed and then her face grew white with fear. “Put it back on. We have to put it back on!” she argued, reaching for the band and trying to put it back in place on her leg.

Marika snatched it from her and then walked over to Grei and placed it on his ankle beneath his sock.

“Freed slaves are normally worthless, too broken to embrace their independence. Please tell me you won’t be one of those,” Marika said, as she stood up in the middle of the disheveled room, looking down at Delyi. “You owe me the life-debt. Does your race believe in that?”

Delyi brushed back her thick black hair, and through icy blue eyes regarded Marika. She regained her composure. “Every being on Luca abides by the law of the galaxy in one way or another, stranger. We were slaves because of a life-debt and having freed me, I am your slave now. The master will still hunt me down to kill me for what you’ve done, but it is all part of His plan,” she said, looking up to indicate her deity as Marika shook her head.

“Look, sister, you belong to yourself: that is my charge to you. I freed you to keep your mouth shut about what I did to your disgusting boyfriend over there. If you can promise me that, I will drop you off at any location that you wish. You do have family, friends or whatever, don’t you?” she asked.

“You would seriously do that for me?” Delyi asked in turn, her voice taking on a stronger base than before.

“Look, I get it, I know more about you than you would believe, and despite my training demanding otherwise, I am going to help you,” Marika said.

“But you don’t know me, and I doubt you need me. Why would you do anything for me?”

“Let’s just say that the last time I had a chance to rescue a prostitute, I hesitated, and I have to live with that schtill for the rest of my life, okay? Plus, you’re a woman, and this planet has some sort of macho schtill going on. If I can disrupt that nonsense in any way, you better believe that I’m doing it. Maker, if Anstractor was anything like this, I would be dead a long time ago.”

Delyi seemed to barely understand what Marika was going on about but she understood “rescue” and “maker,” which she assumed meant that Marika was going to help her to make things right with her god.

“Thank you, Sha’an,” she whispered with a bow.

“Of course. We girls look out for each other, right?” Marika replied, and Delyi smiled, nodding her head. “Alright, so look inside the closet and you will find some clothes that should fit. Go take a long bath, and listen to some music, but stay in there for about an hour. When you’re ready, get dressed, come back here and if I am not here, I want you to wait for me. Understand?” she asked, and Delyi nodded again.

“I need you to stay with me for a few days to watch over this place when I’m not here. When I am done with my mission, I will take you to your people, and then you can start a new life away from masters, whore-mongers, and this gods-forsaken city.”

~ * ~

When Grei opened his eyes, he found himself seated on the soft, round chair of a hotel room. It was still nighttime and he could hear the courtesan in the bathroom, listening to music from the Veece orchestra and singing loudly with it. She had the voice to go along with the harmonious melody that the string instruments produced. He didn’t realize that she had such a talent. She could moan and scream with the best of them, but singing? She had never given him the pleasure of hearing it.

As he looked around, he realized that he had no control over his body—he remembered sitting with Delyi in the lobby, the bomb threat from a woman, maybe an ex, then riding the elevator and then … nothing. The sensation was one of numbness and it frightened him to the point where he wanted to scream bloody murder and cry. A pretty alien stepped out in front of him, and he immediately realized that she matched the description of the troopers report a few nights ago. She was in an all-black, tight, outfit, and in her hand was a knife that had dried blood on it.

“Hello Sergeant Grei, legendary router of the resistance. My name is Marika Tsuno, and I would like to ask you a favor,” she said. A cruel, fanged smile was plastered on her face, and his heart began to race as he realized how helpless he was against her.

“What do you need to know?” he asked.

“I need you to think about your life and what it means to you in comparison to a handful of resistance men and women inside your cells,” she said, pacing in front of him impatiently while playing with the knife.

“You mean the new ones they captured? Hey, I don’t have anything to do with that. I’m retired, for Maker’s sake. You captured the wrong trooper. I have nothing to do with that!” he screamed.

“You’re a decorated example for any young Veece noble that wants to join the militia. Your life, well no, your happiness and wealth, is a symbol to the troopers. If I were to kill you, or more specifically, if the troopers were to allow me to kill you, that would be disastrous for their recruitment, wouldn’t it?” she asked, stopping to see what he would say.

“Of course it would. It’s not easy to get people into the ranks as it is. If those boys and girls felt that their city didn’t reward them or kept them safe in retirement, well, they wouldn’t sign up,” he barked back, but caught himself when he realized he had said too much.

“Here’s the deal. I am going to turn on this holo-recorder. I want you to tell the trooper chief that I intend to skin you slowly until you bleed to death unless he releases the rebels that are being held in his cells, no later than tomorrow afternoon. I want them released into the woods south of here; they are to be dropped off by a shuttle. I want them to be left alone, and then I will take your body out of stasis and allow you to go free.”

Grei Rielles sat for a time, thinking it over, then stared at Marika to see if she was serious. When he had determined that she was as dangerous as he thought, he nodded his head, and Marika slid the table around in front of him and turned on the recorder.

“This won’t work,” he said.

“What won’t work?” Marika asked as she stood impatiently behind the holo, glaring at Grei. Delyi’s singing—that came audibly clear through the walls—was a sweet contrast to the sour mood inside of the room.

“The Red Lord does not negotiate with terrorists,” he said, looking her in the eyes so she would know he was serious.

“That’s too bad for you, then, since your life is what I’m bargaining. If it won’t work then I leave it up to you to find a way to convince him,” Marika said.

“What are you, anyway?” Grei asked with an eyebrow raised. “You some sort of Ranalos half-breed? Why is your skin all red and spotted like that? You remind me of a watermelon—”

Marika slapped him so hard that he couldn’t fathom how the amount of strength that came with the blow could have been summoned from so small a woman. She brought her hand back and slapped him again, and kept on doing it until he was knocked out cold.

“A whoremonger and a specist. My favorite combination,” she said. She then worked it over in her head if it would be a better plan to cut Grei’s throat rather than use him for ransom.

This was a different world and she didn’t know how Tyherans thought. From what she saw of Veece, they were a small, self-contained city that operated as a symbol for the other cities on Tyhera. If they were threatened by someone like her from the inside, they would want the threat removed immediately. But perhaps rebels were too high a price to pay for them to make her go away. Killing Grei would put the troopers into a panic. They would be forced to move quickly, either to hunt her down or protect their VIPs.

It was a difficult decision, but she was Marika Tsuno, the feared trigger of death. She would find a way to make this work, and she would find it sooner or later.

Memory 12

A few days later in the streets of Veece, a chorus of screams echoed throughout the city. Grei Reilles, one of Tyhera’s finest examples of privilege earned from devoting a life of hard work to Palus Felitious, hung by his neck from a communication wire suspended from the rooftop of the trooper station.

The first person to see the corpse was a young Ranalos boy, running ahead of his mother to set up their stall in the market. When the troopers were summoned to cut the trooper down, the people of Veece demanded answers. Widespread fear took over the city and many assumed it to be the work of rebels. They saw it as a message for the “Red Lord,” Qeran Kyle: Release the prisoners or there will be more.

Of course, the brutal display had been orchestrated and carried out by Marika Tsuno. The night when she had sent them the recording to exchange Grei for Blu, they had informed her that Kyle disallowed any sort of negotiation with rebels. She had asked them kindly to reconsider, and though they had called and spoken to Kyle himself, he had denied the request outright.

Grei had played along, and for that Marika had given him a painless death during his sleep. She used the crystals to teleport to the top of the trooper’s roof and strung him up to send a message to Veece. Now as the city was buzzing with fear and disorder, she teleported out of the city into the hills, taking a crystal with her. She went back to the area she had used on the first day and set up the rifle like she had done before.

She lay there for hours as the troopers took to the city, trying to maintain the peace. She touched her ear to call Marian since she hadn’t spoken to her in a few days.

“Marika, are you okay?” Marian asked when the static had cleared and they could clearly hear one another.

“More than okay, but I don’t think I can say the same about your city,” she said.

“My city? Oh, Veece? Ha! What have you gone and done now? Did you do me a favor and put a bullet between the eyes of Qeran Kyle?”

“Oh, don’t I wish, I haven’t even met that bastard and he’s giving me more trouble than any other mark I’ve ever dealt with. Well, not a mark, but potential target – er, tell me, Marian, is he a mark? Is he someone I should take out, or will this cause you problems for helping your friends on the moon?”

“He’s a mark, alright. He has no bearing on what we’re planning on doing. Actually, if you take him out it may force Felitious to come out of hiding in order to name a new second. But you said that there was something going on in the city. I was planning to work my way back there. Should I stay away?”

The sound of a moving vehicle whooshed through her head, and Marika asked, “Where are you, on a train?”

“I’m at a Starport, on my way to Talula. I’ve found some friends to help us free the refugees on the moon, and I need to be there to help them set up,” Marian said.

“Well, here’s the situation,” Marika said. “I tried to make a trade for Blu. The Fels declined, even though it was one of their retired heroes. So—”

“So I’m guessing you showed them that you were serious and the city is losing its mind wondering who you are and why they were dumb enough to call your bluff,” Marian said and Marika could hear the smile in her words as she said it.

“That’s right. I left them a dolly with a red necktie on the trooper’s roof to think it over. Now I’m just waiting to see if they will bring out the big man to try and negotiate with me,” Marika said.

“Listen, I was a royal in their court for most of my life, and I can tell you that Qeran Kyle is not going to negotiate, no matter what you do—” Marian began.

“Even if I leave more dollies all over the city as the days go on?” Marika asked.

“I’m afraid so, Rika,” Marian said, using the nickname she had given her. “There are only two things that Kyle understands: pain and gifts that cater to his ego.”

“What if I just kill him?” Marika asked. “Will that force them to spring Blu and the others? I can start at the top and work my way down until they give me what I want.”

“They could possibly kill all of the freedom fighters to show strength under pressure if you did that. I think the proper step to take is to keep the general public in a state of panic. The troopers will do whatever they can to keep them under control. Force them to offer up Blu without the knowledge of Qeran Kyle. The troopers don’t answer directly to him, and they like their nice, uneventful lives the way it is. Make some waves, work up the panic, and they will reach out faster than you think,” Marian said.

“I knew you’d clear that up for me, Rhee,” Marika said. “Haven’t spoken to you in a couple of days. What have you been up to, besides enjoying the warm Tyheran sun?”

“Very funny, but I found a building with a secure communication system. It was one that Rafian and his monks used to use, if you can believe the coincidence. I reached out to resistance members on six planets, and we have a meeting set up on Talula in a couple of days.” She stopped, inhaling and exhaling steadily. “I’ve been fortunate with a lot of this, Marika, more than you would believe. Turns out there was a rescue attempt in the works already, but they counted Tyhera out. I told them about you and what you’re capable of, and it renewed their confidence in Tyhera’s rebels. Now if we can get Blu out to attend this meeting, we will be able to make a real move against Palus Felitious.”

Marika told Marian about Delyi and her promise to get her out. They both agreed that they would get her to safety as soon as the dust had settled. She got off the nano-comm and went back to her rifle, where she saw that things had calmed down near the trooper station.

She was following the path of a well-armed trooper when a man and his wife caught her attention immediately. She recognized his face and the clothes he wore, but she couldn’t remember why. Her thoughts went back to the visit she had made to the bar a few nights back. She stared at his face, super magnified by her XR3 rifle, and then focused instead on his wife. She thought about how the woman would look if she wore her hair down and she immediately remembered who he was.

Marika powered on the rifle, and dropped the shade on her scope to lock in on the man’s position. She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, letting her finger easily depress the trigger. The shot struck the man in his chest, caught his heart, and froze his innards. He looked as if his skin turned a bluish green color as he collapsed backwards into a crowd of people.

The citizens of Veece scattered in a frenzied panic as they saw the gaping hole in the man’s chest. They had no idea where the shot had come from as the XR3 was a silent shot that spun him around when the bullet hit.

Marika cocked her rifle and closed her eyes as she kept her body rigid within the bushes. The kill didn’t feel good the way she expected it to, and she wanted to go back and stop herself. It was unprofessional, petty revenge, and she knew that as a Phaser she could be punished for it. She shuddered visibly as the guilt overcame her when she remembered the wife kneeling over him. She focused on her training and pushed down the guilt until it went away.

“He hits her. He deserved it,” she muttered to herself.

She teleported back into the room where an astonished Delyi screamed when she appeared out of nowhere.

“Alien technology you would never understand, girl. Calm yourself,” Marika said nonchalantly as she walked over to the computer and skimmed through the hacked records of the troopers. She walked over to the holo-recorder and powered it on, then threw a black shawl over her face. She then spun the recorder to face a wall in the room and nodded at Delyi to take over.

The Primian beauty lifted the recorder and pointed it at Marika to begin scanning.

“Troopers of Veece, terrible overlords to the people of Tyhera,” Marika began. “Today you lost two of your finest citizens due to your stubborn attitude towards my demands. Is the life of one, humble Deijen worth the amount of blood that I am willing to spill in your streets? I have walked among you and I know that the men I killed were far from innocent. But my patience grows thin, and I want our brothers freed. What will you tell your people when I stop killing corrupt, wicked men, and start picking off your citizens at random?” She stopped talking and stared at the light on the holo.

She spoke again. “If it isn’t clear to you what I am able to do, consider your vulnerable position. A few nights ago, you sent a team of your troopers to remove me from a house. I slaughtered them and sent one back to you barely alive. That was me. I was able to get to your protected sergeant, Grei Reilles, and from the corpse you found inside of the capital, you can see that I am one hell of a shot, too. Let me tell you who I am. You are probably assuming I am some petty bounty hunter hired by the resistance. I am not. You may even think I am one of the rebels you so easily rout on a daily basis. I am not. I have removed kings, tyrants, and invincible generals on contract by my guild. How safe do you think your beloved Qeran Kyle, the coward lord, really is?

“Last warning, troopers of Veece, and I will move into picking you apart piece by piece. Do not test me; I’ve shown my quality. Release Blu the Deijen, and the other rebel into the woods south of Veece by tomorrow night, or Qeran Kyle dies. I won’t promise that a few more citizens will not die in the process. My patience is over. Get them out, or I will do what I’ve promised.”

Delyi turned off the holo and Marika removed the shawl and exhaled slowly to let the pent up anger flow out with her breath. She sat on the bed and Delyi came over, sat next to her, and took her hand.

“You know, for the longest time, we have prayed for someone to come in and do the things you are doing here,” she said to Marika. “It is cruel work, but cruelty is the only thing the men of this city understand.”

“Do you think my speech will sway them into releasing my friends?” Marika asked her, and Delyi shook her head and closed her eyes.

“Very well,” Marika said and stared forward for a very long time. “Diplomacy has never been my strong suit. Ready your things tonight and get ready to leave when I come back tomorrow.”

“Where are you going?” the pretty Primian asked.

“Either to collect our friends from the Veece troopers, or to make good on my promise to kill the man you all know as the Red Lord,” Marika replied.

~ * ~

Marian’s eyes grew wide as she watched the large screen above the entrance to the Starport. It showcased the news reporter playing a bit of the recording that Marika had made. It had started with “trouble in Veece,” and then they showed the corpse of a citizen and a recording of Marika, dressed all in black with her voice saying, “What will you tell your people, when I start to pick off your citizens at random?”

A man next to her scoffed and touched the butt of his pistol. “What a little coward,” he said, “shooting innocents and then bragging about it via holo. I’d like to see her try it here in Ravela. We aren’t the soft, clueless elitists that Veece has, are we, sister?” he said to her, and Marian looked over at him and nodded in earnest.

If there’s one way to force the hand of Marika Tsuno, it’s to chop up her video and try to make a fool of her on the news, Marian thought. She considered calling Marika and telling her to calm down in light of everything that was going on, but she thought better of it. If Queran Kyle could die while she was off-planet, it would be a massive blow to the Felitians.

The walls of the Starport shook as the transport landed, and Marian pulled her coat tight, ducked her head, and walked up the ramp as the landing thrusters blew dust everywhere. She nodded to the ticket droid and slid between the numerous rows of seats until she found the back. She kept her head tucked, slid into the last row, and took the seat near the window.

She watched a variety of men and women board and took mental note of who was armed and who was not. Ravela was a tiny city, filled with flowers, but its residents were dangerous, a result of the many skirmishes they’d had with rebels.

Outside of the ship, Marian watched the screen as the reporters interviewed a number of troopers in Veece. She almost felt sorry for them as they tried to play brave. Luca was ill-equipped to deal with one Phaser, let alone two. Veece was now dealing with a Phaser that had been trained to be an assassin. Their technology was not up to snuff, and their personnel was not ready for the likes of Marika Tsuno.

The engines powered on after an hour delay, and the large vessel began to lift out of Ravela’s dusty port. Numerous cruisers and droid-powered ships took to the air, flying around them to check for bombs, stowaways, or anything that could delay their flight. The big engines boomed and the ground fell away, and before long they were rising at an incredible rate.

Marian watched the ship rise and the beautiful landscape of Tyhera spread out in all directions below them. She shifted her gaze upward as the white clouds consumed them. The ship picked up speed as it went, and then tilted and shot out towards Talula. Marian could no longer look at Tyhera, which fell away behind them as it flew, so she looked down at her finger and began to play with her wedding ring.

I can’t believe I almost threw this away over anger and jealousy, she thought. Rafian’s a jerk, and he deserves to be left by himself for it, but there are so many things bigger than us.

She reflected on their marriage and then her parents. Her father would not have approved of her marriage to him, and her mother—as usual—would side with her father on the matter. It took traveling to Anstractor and seeing the way that women and men operated within an equal spectrum for her to realize the issues on her own planet. She had been a baroness when she was younger, but she was still a prize that was meant for a man like Queran Kyle. It wasn’t a big secret that Kyle had requested her as his mate when she was sixteen, but her Uncle Okov Wilder had interfered and had lost his life for it.

She looked outside the window at the stars, and at the portion of blue orb that was Tyhera as they traveled away from it towards Talula.

“You should probably rest your eyes and enjoy the trip,” an android stewardess said to her. It had noticed that she looked worried, and per her programming, suggested the one thing that was guaranteed to calm travelers down.

Enjoy this trip. The words resonated in her head as she wondered if there was anything else to think about besides the guilt she felt for Makk, the villagers that lost their homes back on Tyhera, and—she caught herself and thought of something else. She was about to set in motion the rescue of Amanxa and all her people. She was doing this alone, and the only support that was certain was her friend in Veece, waiting for her to return.

Sure, she may have helped to cause a few families to lose their homes, but wasn’t the fate of the galaxy worth that sacrifice? She looked up at the android as if noticing her for the first time.

“How long before we reach the Starport on the moon?” she asked.

“A very fast eight hours and fifteen minutes,” it replied.

Marian smiled and nodded at the android, who handed her a fluffy pillow and a blanket to cover herself. The three seats next to her were vacant, just like the majority of the other seats aboard the vessel. Must be a really unpopular time to travel, she thought, and then imagined Marika and Rafian in the seats next to her. If it were the three of us en route to Talula to rescue rebels… this galaxy would have no chance against us, she mused.

She tried to think of what Marika was doing and hoped that the anarchist inside of her friend hadn’t gotten the better of her, and she wasn’t already setting Veece on fire. More than likely she’s in bed watching vids, she thought, dreaming up the image of Marika relaxing.

“Good luck tomorrow, Rika,” she whispered out loud and then closed her eyes.

It wasn’t long before she was dreaming of battleships and fighters warring against one another back in Anstractor. She was on the battleship with her husband, the supreme leader of the Phasers, Rafian VCA, and he held her in a way that let everyone know she was his. She smiled both in the dream and in reality, because she was happy to be his and his alone.

Memory 13

The following night, after the troopers broadcast the spliced up message from Marika, a sole black figure scampered along across the rooftops with steps so soft, it seemed to be more ghost than person. The figure jumped across the square and seemed to vanish into thin air, and then it was amongst the people, walking calmly as if it simply belonged. A few minutes later it was scampering up the side of a building and onto the rooftops again, running like its life relied upon it.

Marika Tsuno reached the palace of the Emperor a little before midnight, when she knew Qeran Kyle would be leaving his office to walk up to his room. She had found out his schedule from Delyi, since he had paid for her services several times in the past. Marika saw that there were enough of the crimson guard around the palace to take on an army and caught sight of a few snipers stationed on the rooftop.

There were no buildings close enough to the palace for her to use the rooftop to gain access. It was surrounded on all sides by a manmade moat, and a ten-foot spiked fence with its sole entryway patrolled by a variety of seasoned guards. It was the type of challenge that Marika relished, and she squatted near the edge of the Veece Capital Library’s roof, staring at the looming palace and deciding what to do.

As a pure assassination, a fortress such as this would be penetrated by throwing gas at the guards, then running past them as they all fell. As a Phaser, it would be easy: simply shoot a crystal into a window and then step through the void and appear there within seconds. But she had used up most of the crystals they had brought with them and she didn’t know what else would need to be done in order to help Marian with her mission.

She took a long, hard look at the fence and saw that the person who set up the security detail assumed no one would be able to scale it and get over. She dropped to the streets outside of the lights and then skipped over to the far side of the fence.

Marika slid along it, keeping low to the ground, and then used her knife to touch its surface to see if it was deadly to the touch. The security person had foolishly decided against an electrical fence, so she snaked her way to the far left side of the palace grounds where the trees grew the thickest. The groundskeepers had cut the branches back that would have hung over the fence, but the darkness of the area gave her enough cover to remain unseen.

A large spotlight shone from the top of a parapet down to where she was. She was in a black 3B suit with boots that could stick, so she scaled the tall fence easily until she was near the spikes. She pushed down on a spike to see if it would penetrate the tight, alien substance that comprised the suit, and when it resisted the spike she reached up and gripped two of them firmly.

With a move that defied both the strength and agility that any woman should have, Marika raised her legs and body up slowly until she stood suspended above the fence, her hands still gripping the spikes firmly. She bent her arms until her nose was near one of the spikes and then pushed up suddenly, tucking her knees into three forward flips. She landed softly on the inside of the fence where the spotlight was moving to reveal her.

She scrambled to the side and then sprinted to the outer edge of the moat and did an aerial cartwheel over it to gain the wall of the palace. Her momentum threw her higher than she expected and she smashed into the wall. Ignoring the pain, she scaled the towering wall to an open veranda where she hopped up and caught her breath. She was sweating profusely, and her heart was racing, but she slipped behind a barrel and knelt to meditate.

“I got this, I got this,” she whispered as she sent air into her lungs. She moved the negative energy into her lungs and then out of her mouth when she exhaled. After ten minutes of this, she stood up and checked her arsenal, making sure she had dropped neither crystal nor gun on her entrance to the palace.

When she felt ready for action, Marika slipped inside the open door of the veranda, and slid past a couple of lovers too engrossed in one another to see her slip in and then exit through their front door. Marika pulled out the rough map that Delyi had drawn her and remembered that the living quarters were two floors up from the offices. She slid out to a balcony that overlooked a great courtyard inside of the palace, and then slipped back into the shadows when she realized how illuminated the place was.

There were crimson guards in their shiny black armor walking the balcony and accompanying hallways. Marika ran back to the room that she had just exited as she tried to figure out how to get to the wing that held the offices. When she figured it out, she pulled up her hood, wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, and then walked leisurely down the hallway with her hand on her knife, ready to use it on anyone who stopped her.

She made it to a large staircase leading down, steadying her breathing as she descended it. She passed by a number of Tyheran guests of the palace who merely smiled at her and kept on moving. The people were dressed in all manners of fashion so she realized that her hooded shawl, black tights—which they would assume her 3B suit to be—and soft, rubber-like boots were just her own individual style. She took advantage of it and normalized her gait, covering her face and looking away to hide her Casanian features.

When she got to the second floor, Marika was surprised by the lack of security. There were no crimson guards, or turreted androids, and as she opened the door to his waiting room, it was empty with the exception of the large vid screens displaying her chopped up recording on the news.

The room was majestic, showcasing a shiny, tiled floor of alternating white and black patterns. There were numerous columns carved with elaborate designs that ran from the floor to a ceiling that showcased a mural of Veece during another age. The walls had vid screens but it also had paintings, expensive oil renditions of the different planets.

One of the paintings caught her eye immediately, as it showed an enormous portrait of a warrior with his chin out. The arrogant stance and the care in the detail made Marika assume that it was the infamous Palus Felitious. He’s handsome, she thought, and smiled beneath her shawl. And here I thought he would look like a monster.

She looked around for cameras or androids on patrol, then slipped behind one of the columns that would obscure her from the doors on the opposite side of the room.

As the pulse on her wristband warned that the hour for Kyle’s departure had come, she pulled out the MCPT-90 “Hammer of Gods” that she had affectionately nicknamed “Little Bit.” The gun was one of the most powerful handguns in Anstractor, and unlike the other, more powerful weapons within the arsenal, the MCPT-90 was Vestalian-made. It was a weapon used by officers to punch holes in vessels when times got desperate, but Marika took advantage of its plasma-generated rounds to take out her marks easily.

A normal assassin utilized graceful weapons like knives, swords, kinetic pistol rounds, and the traditional bow and arrow. Marika was more pragmatic about killing, however, and wanted to make sure that no matter where her shot hit, it would stop her target from retaliating.

The “Red Lord” Qeran Kyle was leaving his office when he saw the masked woman in the hallway staring at him with an odd weapon in her hand. He recognized her for what she was and pulled out his gun and fired two shots at her. Marika was not one for subtlety, wanting her prey to see her before he died, so she stood in the hall, waiting for him, and was ready to move as soon as his gun was drawn.

She timed her handspring backwards to dodge the shots, and then bounced up into a backflip with a twist to counter with a bark from her “Little Bit.” The shot hit the column that Kyle had retreated to and the stone erupted from the impact, taking some of the flesh off his face with it.

The scream the Red Lord emitted from the pain was blood curdling, and a few of his Crimson Guard rushed in from behind Marika to see what had happened to their leader. Marika pulled a carf knife from out of her belt and gutted them as they rushed in. She took a woman by the throat and used her body as a shield as Kyle began shooting rapidly in her direction.

More guards rushed in but were hit by Kyle’s blind fire as he held a bloody paw up to his face, trying to hold it together while shooting round after round of laser fire in Marika’s direction.

Dropping the dead woman and retreating to the far corner of the wall, Marika snatched a weapon from her thigh, a weapon that looked like the letter “S.” She raised it above her head and squeezed the center, and it produced a series of blades that fanned out to form a bladed circle around her hand. The assassin spun and released the disc-like weapon. It made a buzzing sound before taking Kyle’s head clean off. The guards had pushed in from the side closest to Kyle and they now looked visibly afraid of Marika, who stood with the shawl over her face and her “Little Bit” smoking at her side.

They inched towards her slowly, the space between them a mere twenty yards or so, but Marika tossed down a crystal as they began to descend upon her. To the Felitian guards who knew nothing of crystal technology or the Phasers, it seemed as if the deadly assassin had simply stepped backwards and disappeared. They scoured the hallway looking for her, but she was gone and their leader, Qeran Kyle, was no more.

Marika appeared inside the hotel room to the surprise of Delyi, who was sitting up on the bed, watching a movie on the vid screen.

“How did it go?” she asked Marika, as the assassin collected her things and pointed to Delyi’s luggage for her to collect them.

“He’s gone,” Marika said stoically.

“G-gone?” the Primian pressed, her eyes wide with wonderment, like that of a child’s. Marika pushed past her and grabbed a bag, and then began to shove the woman’s clothes in it until she collected her wits and moved to pack herself.

When they were packed and ready, Marika opened the door and then rushed to the staircase leading down.

“We’re bypassing the elevator?” Delyi asked, and Marika ignored her and picked up the pace.

“Questions later. Move your butt,” she announced, and Delyi complied, lifting her luggage so that she could keep up with her dangerous, alien friend.

They got to the lobby, which was filled with people talking loudly, and from the staircase Marika could see that there were armed troopers scanning the crowd and pushing people around. A loud siren blared, followed by screams and the sound of gunfire in the distance. She grabbed Delyi and pushed her through the kitchen, where the cooks looked stunned. They ran to the back door where the tall city wall loomed above them like an impenetrable force field.

Marika had four crystals left and she didn’t want to use them but felt she had no choice since Delyi would not be able to scale the wall. There was no way they would be able to exit the city now that Qeran Kyle had been assassinated. In the sky she could see that they had launched hover bugs to find the assassin.

“We’re too late! They will catch us,” Delyi whined, but Marika put a finger to her lips and told her to be quiet. She ran them around the wall to the area where the stream came through to feed the water supply of Veece.

“Follow me and swim like you’ve never swum before,” she said to the Primian, and then dove into the stream as far down as she could before swimming towards the wall. The Veece troopers had neglected to put a grate beneath the wall, so they were able to swim out, and Marika let the current wash her downstream towards a river.

The water was freezing and Marika almost drowned; it was not so much the cold that shocked her into a panic but her body reacting to a temperature it didn’t agree with. But she thought about Marian and her sworn Phaser oath to finish the mission, and she began moving her arms and kicking her feet to swim and get past her body’s surrender. Delyi, however, took to the water like a fish. She touched Marika on the arm and pointed towards the gap in the wall.

When they had pushed on past the wall and were floating south of the city, Delyi grabbed Marika’s hand and propelled her forward, swimming with the current to get them past the city. They swam past a series of fishing huts where the inhabitants were asleep, and around a few bends where the current picked up speed and became dangerous. Delyi pushed them past rocks and deep dips that threatened to drown them, and then the stream fell off a cliff into a large river.

The two women crashed into the deep waters of the river and were lucky that they missed a pair of rocks that were closer to the cliff. It was warmer in this pool and Marika found her strength, so they swam to the closest bank and climbed out of the water.

A low rumbling growl brought them around and Marika saw a hulking, bloated, leathery creature with rows of jagged teeth scrambling towards them. It looked like a fat lizard with tiny legs, but she didn’t wait to observe it as it had marked Delyi for consumption and was determined to have her. Marika touched her leg and brought out “Little Bit,” who was wet but primed for action. She flipped a switch to keep it quiet, and then rolled towards Delyi and stepped into a crouch before placing a blast of plasma into the creature’s mouth.

The beast exploded, leaving green guts all over the bank. Marika snatched Delyi’s arm and ran towards the trees, away from the water.

“Do we know where we’re going?” Delyi asked, but Marika didn’t reply, just kept on moving.

“Where’s your family?” Marika asked after about fifteen minutes of running through the trees. She had been wondering about the girl and what to do with her once the mission was over and they had to return to Anstractor.

“Everyone I know and love is on Primia. It is a planet far away from here. I was hoping to get money to buy a ticket at a Starport. Then I could fly home and start over, look in on my parents. You know, the typical stuff,” Delyi said.

Marika wanted to ignore the absurdity of Delyi’s story, but her curiosity got the better of her. “How in the world did you end up in Veece as a courtesan, Delyi?”

“I know that you aren’t from this system but I think you should know. Slavers prey on two planets in Luca more than anywhere else. The planets of Deij, where your Deijen friend is from, and the planet of Primia, my planet. They get the Deijen because of their strength and ferocity: they make for good guards, and some farmers use them to work the land,” Delyi began.

“Wait a second, am I hearing you right? They allow slavery here on Tyhera?” Marika asked, slowing them down to a walk as she dried the sweat from her brow and looked at Delyi.

“Allow it? Nothing would function for the rich if they had no slaves,” Delyi said. “Primian women are deemed extremely attractive by Tyheran men. The richest lords pride themselves on having a harem of us, and our boys suffer the same fate if they are deemed handsome by Lords who favor them. Our planet is a peaceful one, Marika, and it is not uncommon when a foolish young girl playing outside gets snatched up by a slaver. That was me when I was fourteen. I ran out of the house when my mother and I were arguing and the next thing I knew, I became the property of a Tyheran skin trader.

“I have grown to hate men more that you could ever understand,” she said to Marika, but she didn’t look over at her.

Marika stopped her and forced her around where she could see that the moisture on her face was not from the river or the sweat from their hot jungle trek.

“We’re going to get you home, Delyi, don’t you worry,” Marika said. “But I have unfinished business in Veece, so we need a place for you to hide while I go back to rescue the rebels.”

Memory 14

Marian woke up to the bump of the starship as it landed within the flawless Starport of Dearin, Talula. This city was one of the only places on that area of the moon to have survived the scortchet bomb. When she looked outside the window at her surroundings, she saw armed Felitian guards everywhere. They were all on high-alert and she wondered if something had happened recently to cause this.

Self-consciously, she unbuckled her seatbelt and ran into the bathroom to check her appearance. She looked at herself in the mirrors and adjusted her hair. In her mind, she appeared the same as any other Tyheran noblewoman, but she wanted to make sure that everything was in place. She caught a flash of her eyes and realized that something was off. Tyheran nobles were hoity and rude, but they also held a look of apathy and stoic indifference. What she saw reflected in her eyes was fire: she was primed to get things started in the rescue, and if any trooper were to see her, they would think she was up to something.

She walked out of the bathroom and joined the line of travelers exiting the ship. They descended the escalator to the floor of the Starport, and Marian saw that the troopers were opening each of their bags to check for contraband. As calmly as she could, she reached inside her pocket and snatched the bag of crystals. She then reached up to touch the top-knot in her hair and slipped them beneath her tightly wrapped curls.

“Good day, Sha’an, please hand us your luggage and stand in front of the scanning droid, please,” the large, armored trooper said.

Marian complied, trying to keep her cool as a stream of light from the droid went up and down her body.

“Is this standard procedure, officer?” Marian asked, keeping her eyes low and chin high in the way of a well-behaved Tyheran citizen.

“First time to Talula, eh? We typically don’t check travelers, but with the recent attacks on our Emperor’s city, we have to tighten up security,” he said.

The android made a series of noises and then the white light grew red. The trooper removed his mask and frowned at Marian, then motioned the others over to form a perimeter.

“My lady, you seem to be very well armed, which is suspicious for any citizen traveling to a peaceful moon,” he said, reaching for the pistol on his hip as he stepped back from her. Marian could almost laugh at his assertion that Talula was peaceful. She wanted to snatch the knife from her thigh and cut open his throat, but she smiled and bowed before extending her arms.

“I am sorry, officer, it is an old habit. Though a lady, I have been the victim of assault and the knife I wear is a gift from my late husband … to protect myself, you see. I’m a tiny woman; I cannot possibly pose a threat to one the likes of you. You’re all so muscular and intimidating. You can examine my knife, but I would ask that you return it since it means more to me than life itself.”

A smile broke the hardness of the trooper’s dark brown face, and he nodded at his fellows, then extended his hand for the knife. Marian slowly reached down and lifted her dress, then took out a wicked-looking black knife and handed it hilt first to him. The trooper examined the blade and motioned for another to take a look at it. One of the large, black masked men walked over, hefted her knife, tossed it up into the air, then caught it and proceeded to do a variety of tricks with it.

He spoke with a muffled, robotic voice through the mask. “This is some kind of knife. Her husband meant business. It’s rare sir, deadly in the hands of a skilled assassin, but little more than a toy to one such as her.” He regarded Marian and gave her a respectful nod, and then handed the knife back to his superior before melting back into the ranks with the rest of the men.

The first trooper walked over and handed the knife back to Marian. “Enjoy your stay on Talula, Sha’an, and be wary of rebels. If you see any suspicious activity, be sure to report it immediately. Do not try to use that knife.” When he said this a few chuckles went up from the men that had her at gunpoint.

Marian bowed to the group and placed the knife back in its sheath. She noticed how intently they stared at her legs whenever she hiked up her dress and wondered if they had even the slightest clue how dangerous she truly was. She picked up her bag and walked into the lobby. There were a variety of people milling about but no one paid any attention to her as she slid between them and made her way towards the exit.

The Starport was majestic, and the nostalgia almost made her stop to soak it all in with gusto. The crimson carpet felt soft yet durable beneath her soft-soled shoes, and the walls reflected the finest of Lucan tapestries, draped  over wallpaper that held patterns that were true works of art. Like most interior designs on Tyhera and Talula, there were countless paintings depicting scenes of conquest by Palus Felitious. The numerous chairs that lined the walls were sculpted from a single piece of Primian base rock, and in the center of it all were giant statues, warriors welcoming visitors to the moon.

This was Talula, a tiny moon where the ideal was to have the biggest and most expensive of everything. It was on this moon that Rafian had first blinked in from Anstractor, back when he’d had no memory of who he was. She stepped through a pair of large, sliding glass doors into a metropolis that defied everything that she assumed would have been. By the way the people were going on with their lives, it was hard to believe that a bomb as vicious as a scortchet had been dropped on them.

The sky was the color of lavender, and a thick gathering of clouds obscured much of the celestial wonder that she was used to seeing. Sunlight was not bright on the moon, either, but its pinkish purple atmosphere brought on a mood of romance that she couldn’t shake, no matter where she looked. On the curb next to her, a pair of Tyheran lovers kissed, and across the street she could see more couples walking hand in hand, this way and that. In the distance, she saw mountains faded across the horizon, and all along the roadway speeding cars zoomed past, as if this was the place to be in all the galaxy.

Marian walked over to the taxi terminal where an ancient model of android stood, staring out into nowhere. When she got close, his odd grey limbs animated and he turned to look at her with a stoic face of holes and creases sculpted to favor a humanoid face.

“What … is … your … destination?” it intoned, and Marian walked over to the terminal and brought up the map. She pointed to an area west of the city where a long bridge extended across a massive expanse of water. There was a small settlement there, and she knew it would be a good place to lay low until her Ranalos friends arrived.

“Coryn Station, please,” she said to the droid and he replied affirmatively and motioned to a bench where she could sit and wait. Marian sat down and placed her bag next to her. Five minutes later, an automated car zoomed into the terminal area, settled down in front of her, and the door lifted up to invite her in. She looked around to see if anyone was watching her, then entered the vehicle. She was still leery that all wasn’t as well as it seemed, but at least for now she would allow herself to sit back and enjoy the long drive to Coryn.

~ * ~

Two days had passed since the assassination of Qeran Kyle, and Veece city was locked down and placed under martial law. The troopers were busy, too busy to worry much about their resistance prisoners, and it seemed like the best time for someone to get them out. Marika and Delyi were camped out inside of a shallow cave on the edge of a mountain to the east of the city. It was a great vantage point for Marika to see what was going on, and it provided them shelter for the few days they would be staying there.

“So what’s the plan, Marika?” Delyi asked. She was seated with her back against the cave wall, poking at the embers of their fire, while the Casanian assassin touched at areas on her holographic map. Earlier on in the evening when they had first set up camp, Marika had tossed out the proximity orbs to warn her of any lurkers. She put up her cloak across the entrance of the cave to hide their fire from anyone looking.

On the outside, they had arranged branches across the entrance to further hide the fact that they were there. For the moment they felt safe, and the only thing that could give them away was a hole to the right side of the entrance that Marika used to spy through her rifle.

“If we were back in my galaxy, I could send out a rigged flobot to fly into the prison and send a message to the rebels. It was too big for me to bring with me, so I’m going to have to get them out using more primitive ways,” Marika said. She poked some more at the map and then sighed as if frustrated. “This place is so unused, it’s amazing. It’s as if this entire galaxy is new. You all haven’t filled out the planet, and you live concentrated in tiny cities like Veece. No wonder a Palus Felitious can bully himself into power.”

Delyi did not say anything in response but watched Marika go about her mysterious duties. The suggestion that her world was new struck her as odd. The entire world felt so large and old to her, especially when she considered the ruins upon ruins upon ruins that revealed several generations of ancestors that predated them all.

She imagined a world overrun by people, where trees were scarce due to homes and farms having to be built, and imagined that Marika’s world was just like that.

“In Anstractor, are all the women strong … like you and your friend, Marika?” she asked after a long period of silence.

“I guess so,” Marika replied. “We kind of have to be, y’know – unless you were lucky enough to be born a Geralos.”

“What’s a Geralos?” she asked.

Marika thought of her as an inquisitive child pestering a parent about the way of the world. But Delyi had managed to pull her weight. She was the one who had gotten them through the cold rapids that rushed past the city, and it was she who had spotted the cave for them after a long night of walking.

“In my world, Delyi—” she began.

“Dee, Marika. My friends call me Dee,” she interrupted and Marika looked up from the holo to smile.

“Okay, Dee. See, in our world, there isn’t a Palus Felitious. There is an entire planet of predatory aliens. These creatures are known as Geralos, and they want to take over our galaxy. We lost one planet, Marian’s husband’s planet. They now use it to feed on the people’s brains, grow new humans in their fortified farms, and attack the other planets that have allied with them. My planet is allied with Vestalia – which is the name of Raf, Marian’s husband’s planet. So they hunt us down just like they do the Vestalians, so – it’s like I said, we have to be strong. Both men and women.”

“That sounds absolutely horrific,” Delyi said.

“Yep, and there are no breaks from the horror, so we all grow up fast.”

“No wonder you’re so good at what you do,” Delyi said.

Her words moved Marika, who reflected on her past and the life that she had in Anstractor, before and after the Phasers. She was at home with war, death, and the thin fabric of life, but this wasn’t normal and if she was going to be honest with herself, she had forced herself to be okay with it. But here was a girl, forced into sexual servitude with no way to escape and lacking the skills to physically fight back as one such as herself would have already done.

She weighed their realities and thought deeply on their differences. The Geralos were monsters, but the Phasers were trained to kill them. For all that her galaxy offered up as nightmares for those who were born human, or allied to humans, at least they had the means to fight back. A prostitute like Delyi was broken for life. She had no way to escape—unless a rich aristocrat fell in love with her and bought her off—and the only way to get out of her skin contract was to become old.

Delyi saw her staring off in the distance and waved her hand in front of her face.

“Are you thinking of home?” she asked, and then lay down amongst the furs to watch the fire.

“Thinking about you, girl. But I need you to stay here until I return, I shouldn’t be longer than a day, okay?” Marika said suddenly as she powered down the holo-map. She snatched up a small backpack and slipped it on. “I’ll bring you back some real food from the city, and a jug of good wine for us to celebrate. I intend to bring us some transport, so that we can fly out to a Starport where we’ll book you a flight to Primia. It’s all going to happen fast, Dee, so just be ready, and if you see the lights flash on that beacon, you need to get the hell out of here and run like you’ve never run before.”

“Leave a gun in case I can’t run,” she replied, raising up on an elbow to look at Marika Tsuno.

Marika reached into her main bag and pulled out a shotgun, then walked it over to Delyi. She showed her how to cock it and how to activate the blinding white light beneath the barrel in order to disorient her attackers when they rushed in.

“The bullets are reinforced sonic pellets,” she told her. “When you fire, it is extremely loud, but it can send a group of them flying backwards, which will give you time to escape.”

“How do I differentiate you from the troopers?” Delyi asked as Marika began to clear the entrance.

“That’s easy,” Marika said with a large smile. “You won’t see or hear me coming.”

~ * ~

Marika beat a direct path through the trees towards Veece, using all of her assassin’s instincts to stay alert to any patrolling troopers. She had run about three miles when she came across a cruiser that had just landed. It had deployed three armed men to investigate the area. She was about to hide when she saw the cruiser, and could not pass up the chance that it would provide her a way to fly out of the country. She glanced back to where she had come and thought about the amount of running she had been doing for the last few nights.

She scampered up the trunk of the nearest tree to wait for the troopers to begin their rounds.

The three men conferred for a time, and then walked towards the area where Marika was. She saw that they were using a device to track hers and Delyi’s movement. When they were below her branch, she remained patient, and the device began to beep, as if it had her figured out.

“Maker, can you shut that damn thing up?” the commander said. “We’re supposed to be covert, you know. Find where those bastards are hiding and then run them out. What’s it saying?”

“There’s footprint signatures leading from that direction. They seem to stop here, but I can’t see where they went off to,” the man with the beeping device replied.

There was a column of foggy light coming from the device, which looked like a turtle shell built out of chrome. The foggy light made her former footsteps glow on the ground, but the steps she made were confusing to them, and they were assuming that she was actually a group of people.

The man with the device looked up into the tree and shone the light up into the branches.

“What are you doing, corporal? Stop playing around. Follow the path of those footprints. I bet they have a hideout back there,” the commander scolded.

When the silent third of their number had cleared the tree, Marika jumped, somersaulted, and landed on top of him with her legs around his neck, as if he were giving her a piggyback ride. She clasped her hands over his mask and twisted violently, breaking his neck while springing off of him to take on the startled commander. He had a tough mask on and an armored chest piece, but as with most poorly armored fighters, his neck was exposed.

Marika pulled out her knife and drove it into his larynx, then spun to face the last man who had dropped the device and took off running for his life. She ran after him in the crouched sprint of a predator. As he got to the cleared area where the cruiser was parked, she leapt onto his back and drove him into the ground.

“No, pl—please, please, I don’t want to die,” he begged. She spun him around and placed the blade—freshly stained with his leader’s blood—against his throat. She couldn’t help but feel lucky for the opportunity that presented itself; she would no longer have to sneak into the city and do things the hard way.

“Okay, officer, you want to keep your life? Give me the codes to the lower prison system in Veece. Hesitate and I’ll cut your throat. I will also need the sequence for releasing the prisoners inside of there,” Marika said in a hushed voice.

“32788, the code today is 32788,” the man gasped, barely able to breathe, let alone speak. “But be aware, it takes two keycards to open the high security area. You want your rebel friends out, right? Is this what this is about? You’re going to need another person and two cards.” He swallowed hard and his eyes moved around so rapidly that Marika thought he looked like an android malfunctioning.

“Okay sure, two cards. Once inside, how do I get them out? Do you all have bars here, like a primitive jail system, or is it stasis pods, or something worse? Hurry up, man. I’m losing my patience,” she said and pressed the knife so hard against his throat that it broke the flesh. He could feel the warm blood trickle down into his helmet.

“F-force fields! We use force fields! You have to consult the computer inside to get the individual codes,” he stammered.

“Nice try. It’s a thyping prison. There is a way to open every cell, and I need to know what it is, NOW!” Marika screamed.

“That can only be done with the warden’s keycard, but he’s on vacation off-planet, I swear! P—please, I’m a working class Tyheran, no ties to the Felitians outside of this job. I do this to provide for my family,” he pleaded.

Marika reached down and clipped something behind his ear. She got up off of him, wiped her blade on the exposed piece of shirt beneath his armor, and then sheathed it and waited for him to stand.

“What I’ve just placed behind your ear is a seventh class proximity bomb. If you try to remove it without me pressing this release, it will go off, killing you and anyone else within a ten-yard radius. Do not test me, trooper. I am not the type to be tested. Now, I will keep my promise and let you have your miserable life, but you will have to do a few things for me before I let you go,” Marika said.

“Anything, anything, just please don’t kill me,” the man pleaded as he swept his long, brown hair back and tossed aside his helmet.

“Get in that cruiser and man it until your superiors ask for a status report. Tell them that your commanding officer led you all into a camp where a Primian female asked to speak with him in private. If they ask for more detail, tell them you were commanded to wait and that is what you are doing. If it goes beyond that, your mission is to stall. If you think they will come for you, fly that thing into the mountains and wait until I contact you. I will call you from your dead commander’s radio when I’m ready for the pickup. Do we understand one another?” Marika asked.

“Yes, I’m to aid you in rescuing your friends from prison or you will blow me up with your device. I got it.”

“Good, we’re practically partners, then,” Marika said. “So get over there, clean yourself up, and try to relax. You’ll be hearing from me in a few hours.”

She turned, then and sprinted back past the two bodies of the fallen troopers.

Memory 15

When she was a younger woman, the aspects of training and running mission after mission was all Marika Tsuno cared for. The spots on her head and neck formed a perfect arrow, and the point ended in between her eyes and right above her nose. The assassin’s guild master, Roycence, had teased her about it, saying it was a signal to the world that if Marika Tsuno was to ever stop moving forward, she was about to drop dead.

It was a joke of course, but like most jokes that hurt, it was pretty much the truth. She had taken on the most missions, and had accepted them one after another. Even after signing with the Phasers, she hadn’t stopped to catch her breath, and it was on a lonely night sometime after joining that she realized she was running away from her own mind.

When she wanted company and couldn’t get any, she would end up in bed with the worst people. One of those lonely nights had found her in bed with the supreme leader, Rafian VCA himself, when she had gone exploring and found him in the barracks, training with a fencing droid. Marian knew they had been together, but she didn’t know that ever since the first night, she had spent numerous nights with him, training, drinking, and making love.

She was a celebrated warrior for the Anstractor alliance, a once deadly assassin who had changed the outcome of many elections and leads throughout the galaxy. But Marika Tsuno was lonely. She was a beautiful killer without a committed husband or wife to come home to after the throats were slit and the coins exchanged. This was until she found Vallen, a warrior’s warrior and the best friend to the man she was sleeping with – Rafian VCA.

Val had become her light, and he was the only person in over a decade who truly understood her. She loved the big man, and this was evidenced by the way he stayed on her mind constantly. He didn’t seem to know about her history with Raf, but at the same time she knew that if he were to find out, he would only be upset for a day or so. Oh, how she missed her Val, his mop of brown hair, and his loud, booming laughter.

When she agreed to accompany Marian on the mission to save her city, she didn’t realize how much her every muscle would miss him. The thoughts of his arms holding her close consumed her every thought and made the mission harder. She was no longer the young Casanian beauty running and killing to escape her mind, but an older, seasoned assassin who missed her man and the things he did that would send her purring into the night.

She looked down at the trooper’s station from the top of the wall, and watched to see if the guard at the entrance would turn his back. It was hours after midnight and Talula was high, and though her splendid silhouette made an extra bump on a wall that was not meant to be climbed, the citizens of Veece were too drunk, too high, or too tired to notice. Below her in the neighborhood around the station, the lights were off and the people were fast asleep.

A Primian prostitute—perhaps one of Delyi’s former co-workers—sauntered down the road past the entrance to the station, and the officer on watch became hypnotized by her pert backside. Seeing her chance, Marika jumped down and dashed behind him into the station. All of the lights were dim but there was a man at the desk, and she threw her knife into his forehead before he could ask her why she was there.

She unclipped “Little Bit” and cat-walked to one of the far doors, then punched in ‘32788’ on the pad. The door slid open and Marika peered in. She saw that there was a hallway with two guards at the far end, and a series of passages blocked by yellow force fields. She slid back up into the main lobby and went behind the desk. There she recovered her knife from the bald man’s forehead and lay him gently on the floor. She then ran back to the keypad and punched in ‘32788’ again.

This time, she didn’t hesitate and fired the plasma pistol two times, killing the guards who were too busy chatting to see her enter. She ran up to them and searched their gear, then pulled out their cards and examined them. She stripped the smaller guard of his armor and clothes, then tried them on over her black 3B suit. The fit was loose, but good enough, so she pulled on the helmet to complete the disguise. She then pulled the naked man to one of the consoles and taped his hand with the card face down on the reading panel. The system beeped, then announced loudly:

“IMPROPER SECURITY PROCEDURE DETECTED, PLEASE TRY AGAIN”

She ran over to the next panel and slammed the second card down on its face. The panels flashed from red to yellow and stayed flashing rapidly before taking on a cobalt color. The voice returned, announcing:

“WELCOME VISITOR, TO THE VEECE DETENTION CENTER”

Marika heard running footsteps as the guards inside sprinted to see which visitor would have access to the prison hours after lockdown. She sensed that there would be close quarters combat, so she hooked “Little Bit” into her trooper’s gunbelt and drew out the las-sword from her pack. She powered it on and the single edge of the short sword hummed and became white, laser light. The first guard that ran through the open force field was slashed across the chest, and Marika stepped across him, swinging the sword and opening his stomach with another cut.

She stood at the doorway, waiting for the rest, but nobody came out to meet her reckoning. She chanced a look and a shot flew past her head, but she saw that the shooter was within arm’s reach. Dashing across the doorway to draw his fire, Marika spun on the ball of her foot and entered, diving forward like a freshly shot arrow. The hot lastech edge cut through armor, flesh and bone, and the second guard slumped down dead as Marika collected herself and looked around.

She was on the top balcony of five floors of cells, each of them having a number of cells with shimmering light from the force field’s lasers obscuring the inhabitant’s features. Marika glanced down and was almost shot by one of the guards on the lower level. She backed away from the railing and looked back at the entrance. She glanced to the other side and saw that there were stairs leading down to the next level.

“They can only get to me from there,” she whispered, then skipped past the cell blocks to see if she could find the panel that would trigger the release. She saw nothing like it, so she ran along the wall, and when the first guard popped his head up from the stairs to see where she was, she put a shot near his face that sent pieces of stone exploding everywhere. Two troopers went down screaming from the plasma explosion, and Marika picked up her pace, firing down at the others trying to take her out.

It was all-out warfare inside of the Veece prison, and though the prisoners couldn’t be heard from where she stood firing, Marika could see that they were cheering her on. From the shots and their movements, Marika counted five troopers on the floors below her. She scurried back to the entrance and put away the MCPT-90 which was beeping at her to let it regenerate as the number of shots had caused it to overheat.

During times like her current situation, she wished she had packed a different bundle of goodies before making the jump to Luca with Marian. Marika considered her arsenal: she had a las-sword which was useless in a firefight, an overheated gun that was a bit too overpowered anyway, her carf knife, and the clumsy handgun that came with the outfit she had taken off the trooper.

She waited to see if any of them would come up the stairs after her. She knew that they carried comms and would radio for help, so she had to kill them quickly and get the prisoners out before more troopers came in to ruin her night. There was a crunching noise as one of them gained the top floor and walked slowly towards the entrance with his gun in front of him.

Marika lay prone on the ground. She crept to the corner of the entrance and fired several times with the pistol. The laser rounds were slower and the aim was a bit off, but two of the shots connected, and the man fell forward while depressing his trigger. It fired in her direction but struck a wall. Another man came up the stairs, firing blindly. He was trying to suppress her in order to close the gap, but Marika was a tiny target in the corner of the door’s entrance, and with those inaccurate guns, his chances were little to none. She aimed down the sights and shot him twice in the chest. Then she heard a strange new sound from a few floors below.

“Okay, we give up,” a young man announced, and then another agreed.

“We’re coming up, so don’t shoot,” the third said, but Marika shouted for them to be quiet.

The trooper that had been watching the front door must have gotten curious and come inside, but as soon as he rounded the corner to investigate, Marika hit him in the face, then the chest with two fluid shots that killed him before he was on the floor.

“Listen up. I’m tired of killing you ill-trained, pup scouts,” she said. “I want the rebels on the bottom floor released. ALL OF THEM. And I want you to remain where you are while they come up here to me. I want no funny business from any of you or I will kill every last one of you. Do you hear me?”

“YES!” one of the men screamed, and he sounded as if he was crying.

“If you obey my demands you will live to see tomorrow, but if I see your faces, any of you, or if any of those rebels are hurt before they reach me, I will throw down a grenade and incinerate the lot of you. I’ve been trying to avoid doing that but I will if you leave me no choice. Now I am going to count to three, and I want to hear those cells opening.”

“One … Two…” Marika began to count and then she was interrupted by the sound of cell doors opening, followed by a loud roar and a bone crunching thud. The rebels had been released but they spared no time in exacting revenge upon their captors. After a few minutes, the large, muscular Blu ran up the stairs, followed by seven men of varying age and species. They all looked weak from lack of food and water, but they regarded her proudly when they got to the top of the stairs.

“Marian VCA hired me to get you boys out. I am from Rafian’s world, so don’t hurt yourself staring at me for too long. Pick up the weapons from the guards and get ready to fight. Chances are there is an army waiting outside for us and we’ll need to shoot our way out of here,” Marika said.

Blu walked forward and hugged her tightly and the movement was so sudden that she would have cut him. But something stopped her before the tragic mistake and she realized that she felt sorry for the giant warrior.

“Lady Raf did not forget us,” he said in a loud booming voice. “FOR THE ALLIANCE!” he screamed and they echoed the battle cry and charged out the door. When they got to the top floor, a shot from a sniper brought down the Daltak named Corea. He was the same man that had given Marian a hard time, back when they’d had their meeting in Blu’s cave home.

As soon as he went down, the other rebels took cover behind the desk and pillars inside of the trooper station. There were twenty officers outside, armed and angry, but Marika was determined to see her plan through. She dashed into an office, then ran up to the window to see if any troopers were outside watching.

“OVER HERE!” Marika screamed, and the six rebels ran over and stood behind her, waiting to see what she had in mind. “When I start to move, put fire on those two guards over there and cover my escape. I will cover you once I am on the ground, and then we will run towards the stream on the far side of town.”

Blu nodded at her. Marika pulled her carf knife, then ran, jumped, tucked into a ball, and crashed through the window. Once she was past the glass, she opened up her flight to fling the knife into the neck of one of the guards. The other guard was torn to shreds by Blu’s twin pistols, and Marika pushed three drunken citizens out of the way to move on the entrance to the police station.

She knelt near a bench and fired “Little Bit” into the crowd of troopers, causing several of them to fall dead, torn to shreds by her plasma blast. Her rebel friends joined her and they slaughtered the survivors. Then she turned and dashed, pushing people out of the way and pulling her las-sword free. The rebels joined her in her sprint and like a bulky snake of ill intent, they wormed their way through the buildings towards the stream that sat near Veece’s outer wall.

Several cruisers were in the air, and spotlights illuminated Marika’s run, followed by laser fire and kinetic payload. But Marika was a trained escape artist, and she slipped inside of buildings and then out of others, took to covered rooftops, and doubled back when she needed to.

“Perhaps we should split up,” said another Daltak.

Marika shouted, “Stay together, and follow me. They won’t shoot at the buildings with those missiles.”

They were sprinting through the capital’s market and their path took them upstairs and onto a covered bridge that spanned the very stream they wanted to escape in. A daring cruiser floated dangerously close to where they ran and released a barrage of laser shots into the area. Most of them missed, but one slipped through an arch, killing another rebel instantly. This one was a Tyheran young man named Walker, and his best friend Luc had to be pulled away from his corpse by Blu.

The thinning group of escapees jumped from the side of the bridge once Walker was shot, and Luc began his hysterics. “Dive and follow me!” Marika screamed, and they did just that as she took them into the familiar, icy cold rapids, which washed them down towards the waterfall.

Marika fought to gain the shore as the cruisers followed, and most of the resistance fighters made it out to follow her. One of the rebels that didn’t make it was a Primian by the name of Jodie who toppled over the waterfall, struck the rocks at the bottom, and was killed. Marika pushed through the trees where the cruisers couldn’t follow and led the men as high into the mountains as she could.

“A few hours more and you all will be free,” she said and amidst cries of loss and pain, they grunted their approval and followed her through the jungle. She brought out the comm that she had taken from the lead trooper and called up the surviving trooper in her employ. “Listen,” she said to him when he woke up to answer. “Wake up, get that thing in the air, and meet me at these coordinates. Fly low so that the other cruisers don’t see you up here. You’re going to have to land that thing on an area of about twenty yards.”

They picked up the pace in a long steady run while the troopers of Veece looked everywhere for their bodies. One of the cruisers saw the corpse in the waterfall, so the majority of them flew over there to see if they all had suffered the same fate. Marika kept her company to the deepest parts of the woods, shooting anything that dared to threaten them and watching the skies until they reached the cave where she and Delyi had set up camp.

“Wait here,” she whispered and snuck to the side of the cave entrance. She was careful not to trigger the traps, and powered down the detectors that she had set up earlier.

“Dee?” she called out. “Dee?”

A tiny voice inside replied with, “I’m here.”

She came outside and hugged Marika, and as they were about to make introductions, a cruiser settled down on a mountain of dirt off to the side of the cave. Marika told the company to hold their fire and then crossed over to the cruiser by herself.

She grabbed the man by the arm and pulled him out. “You did well,” she said to him.

She reached behind his ear and removed the earring. It made her ticklish inside to know that the old suicide bomb bluff still worked.

“Once we lift off, just tell them I held you captive during the whole ordeal,” she said to him and touched his cheek. “You chose life over honor. I am not familiar with men like you, but it means you are a danger to anyone who would call you a friend. I am supposed to kill you; that is what smart Phasers do, but you earned your freedom, so run back to Veece. Tell your superiors that the next time a Casanian issues a threat, they would do well to respect it.”

The man turned around and sprinted in the direction of the city. Blu watched him go and then threw Marika a questioning glance, but he dropped it after a time when he realized she was just honoring her promise.

“I would have shot him,” he said to her as he got into the back seat of the sleek, eight-seat cruiser. “Felitians are vicious. It may come back to bite you in the rear.”

Marika puffed and twisted her black lips into a smirk. “He did what I asked him to do. The code is very firm on us keeping our word, big man. Plus, he’s the lone survivor of a troop of soldiers that included his commander. Do you think he’ll be reporting any of this to anybody? He just helped us to escape!”

“If you say so, but if we seem him again, he’s dead. My code says that Fels are the devil, and my code has kept me around for a very long time,” Blu replied.

“You know, Marian speaks very highly of you, big man. She never told me that you had such a penchant for whining, though,” she said to him and Delyi—who sat next to Marika—looked back at him to wink. “You fought like a Phaser though, Blu, so we’re okay.”

She lifted the cruiser and skimmed the treetops, then flew it north for an hour. Once she was sure that no Felitians had followed, she took them up into the sky and then slowed the engines so they could talk.

Marika spun around in her chair and said, “Here’s the scoop. Marian is on Talula. She’s meeting with some badasses from Lochte, I think. She’s going to need things ready down here for when they do their thing. Where can I take you to get fed and cleaned up? I mean, no offense, but I’m assuming that sewage and water were as scarce a commodity in the Veece cells as was food?”

“Ravela is an allied city, Marika,” Blu said evenly. “I have friends there that can take care of us. The mayor is with the resistance, and he will keep the Felitians off of our trail. Just land this thing a mile or so outside of town, and I will get him to send a car to pick us up.”

“Sounds good,” Marika said. “And I hope you all know that I am merely telling jokes to lighten the mood. What you all have been through isn’t easy for anyone, and I want you to know that they will pay for the friends we lost tonight.”

“Marian is very lucky to have a friend like you,” Blu said to her as the engines revved and they shot out towards Ravela. “I am very afraid of your world.”

“What makes you say that?” Marika asked.

“I have seen what Rafian can do, and now I have seen you. The two of you are from a place that is filled with war and produces warriors such as yourself. A place like that is the thing of nightmares, and we Deijen are a peaceful people,” Blu said, then looked out the window as if in deep thought. “Thank you, for rescuing us, Marika, friend of Lady Raf.”

“You’re quite welcome, Blu, my Deijen friend.”

Memory 16

Jemi was a small town built on the outskirts of Talula’s untamed wilderness. The family that founded the island on which it was built was said to have first traveled there by way of a two-hour swim. The beasts of the wilderness had devoured their young son, so the mother, daughter and father escaped towards the milky, pink waters of Lake Ayrila and swam for their lives, hoping to gain the other side. What they found instead was a piece of land that was large enough to hold a city. They built a house, and called their friends, and after a hundred years, there was a tiny island city accessible only by way of an expansive bridge.

Marian thought the story was nonsense. She believed that rich investors had funded its construction even before the time of Palus Felitious. Jemi was probably a lover’s paradise where wealthy senators would spend weekends with their lusty Primian mistresses. I can see my cheating husband here, she thought to herself with a bit of a smirk as she regarded the tall buildings and the numerous red flowers that seemed to be everywhere.

The familiar buzzing in her ear forced her to uncross her long legs and look about to make sure she was alone. The city seemed all but deserted, but of the few people that were milling about, none of them were near enough to overhear her conversation.

“Marika, please tell me you have good news,” she said as soon as the buzzing had stopped.

“I have great news. Your friend is out, and I am in a warm mud bath, soaking my limbs,” Marika said.

“Murder and luxury, that’s my girl,” Marian joked, and then brought up her hand as if she were using a comm when a grinning older man shuffled over to see if she wanted some company.

Marian adjusted her position to prevent him from sitting next to her on the bench, and then averted her gaze as she spoke to Marika. The man realized that she was busy and disinterested, so he pretended to be looking for someone and then moved away to find another pretty target.

“I tell you, Rika, I forgot how absolutely irritating the men of my world can be,” Marian said when he was gone. “How is Blu? Is he okay?”

“Blu and the others are fine, Rhee; at least now they are. The Fels were keeping them awake for over 24 hours at a time, and they weren’t feeding them at all.”

“If only we could have predicted how low the Felitian organization would go. They were once a misunderstood tyranny that helped a number of people,” she reminisced sadly. “Now they’re just a network of thugs, causing pain and misery. Has anyone told you why the resistance came about against Palus?” she asked Marika, looking around to make sure that no one was near her to listen.

“No, I just know that they are bad and the resistance is good,” Marika replied.

“Well, at one time Tyhera was in chaos due to the leader of Apun, the country where I grew up. Criminals ran the planet, and the governments were paid to let it happen. How it got so bad, I don’t know, but my parents were victims as a result of it. My sister was taken by a gang warlord when she was in her teens, and my father—who isn’t a fighter—could do nothing about it but complain to the local Baron. Life was hell for them until Palus and his army started a coup to take over Apun.

“See, they were heroes to us during that time. They killed off the gangsters and assassinated the false leaders. When Palus named himself Emperor, he rewarded the faithful, and my father’s status grew as a result of this. Old prejudices and our twisted class system disallowed the Felitians from giving my father a title. They gave it to me instead, since they saw me as a child, born into the new world of the glorious Palus Felitious. I was too small and too ignorant to the world to realize that my blessing came at the cost of people’s lives.

“Pretty soon people stood up. They weren’t okay with one corrupt government being replaced with another. These were the freedom fighters and they seemed to have membership on all twelve planets. They have always been too small and too sparse to stop Palus, however. The few attempts at his life were ill-conceived and pathetic, so he got better defenses and stayed behind his shields where they couldn’t get him. In time they began to think that he was invincible, and so they became content with annoying him instead of trying to stop him.

“So here we are, the descendants of a planet torn to shreds by corruption. Palus is not truly Emperor of the galaxy like he says he is, but he does control Tyhera, the largest of the twelve planets.”

Marian sighed and stood up to walk. There was a strip of water that ran through the center of the city and it showcased numerous fountains of varying styles. She began to walk next to it, enjoying the sound of the water, as Marika stayed silent, expecting her to finish.

“And you expect to be the one that can get close to this invincible world-conqueror to kill him?” she asked, thinking for the first time that Marian had not thought things through. “Marian, have you any intel on where the man is, or where he will be in order to carry out your assassination?”

“No, not yet, Marika, but … I don’t know, I’ll figure it out.” Marian said with frustration.

“Well, until you do, I think that you had better cool yourself off.” Marika said.

Marian knew that Marika was right, but she felt time was running short. With Qeran Kyle being dead, Palus Felitious would act, and if that act involved a public appearance, she needed to be there to kill him.

“I know, Marika, and I am concentrating on helping Amanxa and the other rebels get off of this moon. Please tell Blu that we have to secure a hideout for them on Tyhera. They will not be safe on Talula once we bust them out.”

“That’s an easy enough mission. How do you feel otherwise?” Marika asked.

“Tired, and a little guilty for leaving Anstractor the way I did. I’m so mad at Raf, but I have friends who will miss me. I thought about his sister, Aurora, and her cute, bubbly personality. Silent Frank, my drinking buddy, and even your Val. I can be such an emotional little cruta sometimes, I swear,” she opined.

“That emotional little cruta is the Marian we know and love. Stop trying to change. I know that I miss my Val something vicious; he won’t stay out my mind. I want to wrap this up soon so that I can return home to him. You do understand, don’t you Rhee?”

“How about tonight?” Marian asked.

“You mean to jump out tonight? What about you? I can’t just leave you here—” Marika began.

“Maker’s sake, Marika, you’ve done enough for me here to cause me to owe you for several lifetimes. Look, my friends are free, and the Ranalos are on the way here. The pendulum is swinging and Palus won’t escape it. What I need more than anything else from you is—”

Marian stopped and sighed. “I’m almost out of crystals, and I need Raf or Tayden to send me some more. If you can bring back a couple of Phaser Aces, I would kiss you, but I need the crystals to get to Palus. Please do this last favor for me Marika, and I promise you the world.”

“You promise things that aren’t yours to give, Marian VCA, but I will not argue. Jumping back means I can at least see my Val, and I will get a handful of crystals to help you finish your mission.”

Tyhera was an amazing planet, and so were its people, but Marika had spilled so much blood that she could almost see the stains on her hands whenever she looked at them. When she was a blade for hire, she would meditate for hours and pray to the makers to wash the memories from her mind. It wasn’t a perfect solution to her chosen black art, but it was enough to allow her to sleep at night. Now it was different, and she could still see the image of Kyle’s face being shredded with the exploding column.

“Stay safe sister, until I return,” she said to Marian and then signed off before she could reply.

Marian walked out to the bridge to try and clear her mind, and to try to think of a way to catch up with Palus. A pair of lovers walked by and they looked very much like a statesman and his mistress. Marian smiled at them, but the man noticed it and mistook her grin for one of invitation.

“Would you like to join us?” the husky man asked, and the Tyheran courtesan touched Marian’s forearm affectionately.

“Not tonight, my friends,” she replied to him, and she could feel the cynic inside of her being held back from laughing.

The man nodded and slipped an arm around his beau, then walked back towards the hotel in the center of the city. The courtesan, a Primian, kept looking back at Marian with lingering looks of want. It made her suspicious until she realized that the sex worker was probably on her fifth course of mood altering drugs and aphrodisiacs.

She turned back to the bridge and looked across it. Evening was upon them and the pink waters were now as deep a purple as the skies. Several lights came on and revealed another set of lovers on a bench, too engrossed in their kissing to notice her staring.

She watched them for a very long time before she realized she was crying. It was an embarrassing discovery and she hurried back to her hotel. She had sent Marika back to Anstractor to see her lover and to collect important crystals for the rescue mission. But she hadn’t been entirely honest. She found herself missing the touch of her husband, and seeing his face and hearing his voice.

For all their arguing he would always come to her, and despite the hell that was going on in Luca, he had stayed ever-present in her mind the entire time. She would feel weak when she thought of being without him for the rest of her life, but then she would feel stupid when she thought about sharing him with the other women that he admitted to being with. But it was there, that feeling of compromise, that somehow he would change and they would work it out. Oh, the way he held her, with hands like steel, and the way she would revert to being that young, high-spirited Baroness whenever their lips would touch.

Most nights when she stirred, she reached for him, and whenever she did something amazing she had to remind herself that she couldn’t call him up to brag to him. She didn’t need Rafian VCA – she needed no one – but she wanted him badly: physically, emotionally, and everything else in between. Most of all, she wanted to know that he missed her as much as she missed him. She had reacted, but that was how she was and he loved her for it—he had said as much—so why hadn’t he jumped in to find her? Why hadn’t he chased her here to let her know that he couldn’t live without her?

She whispered his name with a curse, trying to summon the hate, but all she kept thinking about was the night when he whisked her away to make her his wife. She stepped through the sliding glass doors and onto the shiny, reflective tile of the hotel lobby. Her reflection showed a slender, beautiful woman whose wrapped up hair and tear-streaked face would draw attention from anyone looking. She kept her face hidden and pressed the button for the elevator, hoping with all her heart that it would arrive empty.

When the elevator finally got to the lobby, opening to reveal no one inside, Marian ran in and jabbed her finger on the button for the 22nd floor. The tears were out of control and she was beginning to bawl, but no one stopped its ascent as it rose up to her room. “Thank the makers,” she whispered aloud when the doors opened up and she was even happier to find the hallway empty. She ran to her room door, put the code into the locking mechanism, and dove onto her bed as if her life depended on it.

This was the first time in ages that she had allowed herself to cry, and she bawled audibly as the loneliness settled in. Marika had been a distraction, a distraction that was now gone, and she was angry and disappointed that they had been gone for near a month and Rafian had not come looking for her.

~ * ~

The next day the signal Marian had been waiting for showed up on her comm-link. The Ranalos skiff had landed somewhere between Jemi and Astuif, and the Ranalos had set up their camp in preparation for the battle. She stole a hover-bike from a rack near her hotel and with her bag strapped across her back and dressed in a blue 3B suit, she blazed down the long bridge out of Jemi and onto the hilly plains of Talula.

She rode past shepherds that were out with their flock and an enormous graveyard that was fenced in by rose bushes. The bike was not as fast as she would have liked but it moved her quickly away from the city. When she glanced back for what would have been the tenth time, she saw that her hotel was the only thing on the horizon. She stayed away from the forests and the wild thorny bushes, since there were many predators on Talula that made those places their home.

When Marian was a girl, her parents used to take her to visit Talula during the second month of the long Tyheran summer. She was very young when they decided to stop making the trips, so her last recollection of it all was sitting amidst yellow flowers that were so tall, they appeared as trees to her.

She’d run through them with her hands outstretched, bending the stalks as she ran and trying to imagine herself as a Talulan rabbit. Now as the hover-bike flew over the same flowers, she viewed them in a much different way than she had as a child. The flowers were beautiful but hardy, very much like their moon and the people that had come there to live.

After she had been riding for quite some time, she felt lonely and bothered by the same landscape she had just been admiring. There were no ships in the sky, and while the sun was out and it was bright, she could only see flowers and hills spread all the way through to the horizon. If not for the compass and map she had on her comm, she would have been completely lost out there, unaware of where she was.

She didn’t succumb to her fears and pushed on in the general direction of the camp that the Ranalso told her they were set up in. After a few more hours of flat nothingness, she could see a myriad of triangular tent tops on the horizon. She pulled up a comm-link and called the leader, Illi, who was the same man she had contacted on Lochte.

The comm kept on beeping for a long time, so she slowed the hover-bike to a crawl. She didn’t want to approach them without them knowing who she was, so she stayed outside of sniper range and whispered a silent prayer that Illi would pick up before his scouts discovered her.

The Ranalos answered the comm with a gruff, impatient voice, “Where are you at, Tyheran?”

“About 2,000 yards out from your campsite, Ranalos. Seriously, can we get past calling each other by our respective races and use names like friends are supposed to do?” Marian said.

“Of course, Lady Raf, we can do that. Now tell me which direction you’re coming from and I’ll tell the boys to ease up so you don’t get yourself dead,” he said.

Marian shook her head at the title Lady Raf. It was as if everyone in Luca wanted to remind her that she was only a circumstance of her legendary husband. She should be upset by it, especially after doing enough things without him to warrant her having a name. But she knew that when she had married him, she was the enemy, and not many of them had gotten the chance to get to know her for who she really was. She was still a stranger to them, and all they knew about her was that she was married to a man they loved very much.

“I’m coming from the east, Illi,” Marian said.

“Coming from the island city, eh?” said the Ranalos, and she could feel the sly smile behind his words. “How was it there? Haven’t been there in a long time, not even to fight or take a lover … isn’t that what they do there, Lady Raf? Fight and take lovers?”

His gruff laugh broke in suddenly and it startled Marian since she hadn’t expected it.

“You know your stuff, Illi, that’s for sure,” she said, trying to keep the sarcasm in her voice to a minimum. “I saw enough of that stuff there to make me sick. This is why I’m coming out to stay with you boys for a time. I’m ready to spill Felitian blood and rescue our comrades from the prison camp they have here. Right?”

The Ranalos grew quiet, and she didn’t know whether he was thinking about what to say to her, or if he was distracted and therefore ignoring her. “Come to the camp, Lady Raf. We have a tent set up for you. We heard about what you and your friend did on Veece recently, and it goes without saying that we consider you to be a mighty warrior, just like your husband.”

Marian blurted out a “thank you,” and it came out like a gasp, causing her to widen her eyes with surprise and embarrassment. “That means a lot to me,” she said after collecting herself. “My friend was able to get to Qeran Kyle, and now Tyhera is in an uproar. That will keep the Fels off of us as we take this camp, and afterwards I hope you all will join me in liberating Veece from the Felitians once and for all.” She started to move her bike slowly towards the camp.

“Tempting. That really is tempting, Lady Raf, but we want to rescue these rebels and head back to Lochte. As long as Palus Felitious is alive, I don’t want to be anywhere near Veece. We are brave, yes, but we are outnumbered a hundred to one. As you may not know—being that you have not been here for some time—no, if Palus Felitious falls, whether it be by your deadly friend or by yourself, I promise we will be there to help you take Veece. But until that happens, we will do this, and then return to our planet where we can fight to keep Palus Felitious off of it,” Illi said.

“I understand, warlord,” Marian said to him. “This will be me coming over the hill, so don’t shoot.”

She turned off the comm and then drifted into the camp where she parked her bike and stepped off. She felt a sudden pain in her inner thighs from riding for several hours. She walked around and stretched her back while the men looked on in admiration.

She was in her 3B suit, so there was not much of her spectacular shape that would be left to their imagination. A few inched forward to try their luck but she stared icy daggers into them and motioned to the knives that she had strapped to her legs.

These were Ranalos warriors, all wearing colorful dragon bone armor, and as a unit they stood glaring at her with war paint on their stoic faces and dye on the tentacles of their heads. Marian waded amongst them to get to the large tent in the center. She noticed that as she pushed her way through, a few of the men were reaching back to grope her backside. These were gruff men that had been at war for long months, and they hadn’t seen a woman of her caliber in ages. But Marian was not interested, so she slapped hands away and pushed past them even more violently until she was standing in front of Illi.

He was the biggest man in the camp and wore all black, and he had enough weapons on his person to arm a militia. Unlike the oranges, greens and reds that were on the tentacles of his group of warriors, his tentacles were painted black, and they reminded her of rolled up plaits on the top of a human’s head. He had a wicked scar that stretched from his right eye down to the left side of his neck. His body—the parts that she could see—was riddled with old bullet wounds and Marian wondered how it was that he was still alive.

“I see you admiring my beautiful face,” the big man joked. “I can’t believe we’re in the presence of a delicate, Tyheran flower such as you. Careful that you don’t get plucked out here, soft born,” he teased and Marian looked around in disbelief.

She flexed one bicep to show off her strength, and then used her other hand to try and check for any fat on her arm. She squeezed her bicep and looked at him quizzically, as if he was out of his mind.

“Which part of me do you see as soft, Illi? Because I’m not really seeing it. I’ve been put through the fire on several levels of training to prepare me for any situation. Felitian fencing arts started it, then the military, oh and then there’s the actual firefighting as a Tyheran rebel. Then there was the Phaser Academy, which is the type of force that only about one percent of military personnel qualify for.

“Soft born, huh? Really Illi? If any of your horny, testosterone-crazed lunatics try to ‘pluck’ this flower, they will learn that my blade is quite precise, and you will lose more men than the Felitians could manage in any war that you would ride into.”

Illi was still smiling, but Marian could see that something had changed in his demeanor. He regarded her with a strange look in his eye and then surrendered to her bravado by nodding and smiling. “Alright, alright, girl, you’re not so soft. But, let’s not waste any more time exchanging niceties out here. Come inside the tent so that we can plan the rescue of our friends and bring some hell to the Felitian ranks.”

Memory 17

Rafian VCA touched the large, black crystal, lost consciousness, and appeared in Luca, outside of Veece, deep in the same forest where Marika had killed the two troopers. He lifted up a tracking device to his face and scanned for crystal residue. He saw the telltale traces of them in areas of the forest, and when he sent the scanning further out, he saw that a few jumps had been made within Veece city.

Sighing loudly, he started walking, trying to work the situation out in his mind of how he would get Marian to come back. It was night time and the frogs were singing songs of mating while Talula hid behind a cloudy sky.

Marian had been gone for two weeks from Anstractor. The time difference was very different between the two galaxies, and he knew that to Marian it would have felt like a month had passed since she left him. He recalled how upset she was with him, but she had left his ring on her finger, even when she said she wanted a divorce.

He recalled the night vividly, especially how upset she was. He had apologized like he always did, but it had done nothing to help. Then she ran off, to come here, to Luca. With two weeks gone, he knew she would have felt neglected, as if he didn’t care for her and was content with leaving her alone.

He touched his forehead and tried to massage away the worry. How had he not thought about this? Yes, the war was at full boil in Anstractor, but that was no excuse for neglecting her. No, he had let it pass, and he had relished the freedom of her absence. Why couldn’t he act on the immense love that he felt for her? Was it so hard to stay loyal but for the few times that a mission required seduction?

That was all she had asked, yet he wasn’t willing to do it. He felt small and immature for the way he’d behaved, but it strengthened his resolve to seek her out for an apology.

He spat and touched the bark of a large tree, looking out at the open field that ran the length of the area in front of him. In the distance stood the tall walls of Veece, and there were numerous cruisers flying over it, like flies at a trash dump.

“What have you done, Marika?” he asked out loud, and smiled with guilty pride.

His jump into Luca was miscalculated, and instead of ending up in Dearin, Talula—which was a city he knew well—he had ended up near Veece, in the heart of the beast. He crossed the plain to the large, looming gates, and two troopers that were seated on the walls pointed rifles at him as he got close.

“Identify yourself, stranger, and show proof of who you are,” one of them announced.

Rafian vanished and appeared next to him, driving a fist into his helmeted jaw. The move was so sudden that the other man couldn’t react and all he could do was drop his rifle and hold up his hands as Rafian kicked the fallen man in the stomach and turned to face him. He didn’t know how it was that the stranger could vanish the way he did, but it was frightening, so he backed up slowly, begging for his life.

“You all aren’t true believers,” Rafian said. “Well that’s a relief. Seems like Kyle’s lackadaisical recruitment practices will be the undoing of Palus. But don’t feel bad, boys, you’re no traitors. You’re probably up here playing sentry in order to feed your families, right? A good, honest job where you get the added bonus of a bird’s eye view of a few plump, Primian bosoms. Right?”

The men nodded slowly. Rafian helped the first one up and took his rifle.

“Listen, I’m not from around here – which you probably realize by now. I’m not here to make trouble, but I do need to visit a friend in the city, and I really don’t want any of you toy soldiers giving me problems. Give me the all-clear so that I can walk the street in peace, and I promise you that I won’t hurt anybody,” he said.

The guards nodded and turned away from him, and Rafian hopped down to the nearest curb inside of Veece. He walked down the main street, away from the gates. A brown-skinned Tyheran woman stumbled across his path, forcing him to stop. She looked over her shoulders and then into the sky, then placed her palm on his chest.

“We’re all going to die,” she said under her breath. “Those resistance bastards are everywhere. Get inside and cover yourself up, man. You look as if you have no clothes on.”

She dry-heaved and Rafian flinched, but with her hand still on his chest, she walked off into the darkness. He looked down at himself and at his 3B suit, and saw that he stuck out like a man’s first grey hair. More people stumbled past him as he walked: some were drunk and others were just curious. Most of them were looking over their backs, but others looked up in the hills as if rebels were up there, looking to pick them off.

He noticed that much hadn’t changed since the time he was there, but he wouldn’t allow himself to become too nostalgic about it. For him, Veece was Marian VCA. It was here that he had met her, fought her, made love to her, and married her. Everything else about the city was pain and loss. He did notice the wall, which was new, and that there were more aliens on the streets now than he remembered in the old Veece.

He strode down a steep hill lined with shops, and past a gathering of prostitutes who reached out to gently touch the front of his 3B suit. There were four Primians and a couple of Tyherans, and behind them on the top floor of the house that they stood in front of them was a mean Deijen woman, watching him curiously. Rafian winked at them and pressed on through the city.

When he had been walking for a time, he decided to stop inside a bar. The neighborhood was rundown, sleazy, and stunk of a mineral that hinted of old, Ranalos blood. He’d grown weary of watching his back as he passed the shadowy houses and the bar had lights and music, which drew him to it.

A shower of stringed beads hit his face as he walked inside, and he saw that they were hung at the entrance for decoration. Inside of the bar, the atmosphere was smoky. There was a sweet smell that reminded him of cinnamon combined with the perfume of Tyheran ladies. He walked forward and the smell changed to the rank odor of men who had spent the entire day face down in their own vomit.

The lights were so dim that he could barely make out the face of the bartender. He could see that she was a Daltak, a tiny thing, and the numerous plaits that were all over her head complemented her quirky sense of dress.

“Tuwoll, dark and handsome, he is, and smells of off-worlder. You a brave one stepping inside Cecille’s with the twoopas on a rampage like this,” she said to him, speaking not in Tyheran but the basic language of the Anstractor galaxy.

It took Rafian a second to realize that he still wore the decoder chip behind his ear and it was distorting the woman’s Daltese into a strange accent that made him smile. He put up his hand to tell her to wait and then reached up and tugged it off.

“Let me get a shot of whiskey and a little information, doll,” he said to her, and she nodded and spun to commence the pouring.

“What type of information you looking for, tall, dark, and handsome? Listen, I’ll keep calling you that until you give me your name,” she said, stopping the pour to look back at him.

He noticed that she kept a shotgun near the credit-slide machine, and she had a pair of needles jutting out of her ear lobes. She had trooper-issue leather boots, and a skirt that was too short for the temperature, accentuating a pair of shapely legs wrapped in stockings.

“You flirt with everyone? You’re quite the sight,” he said.

She placed a glass of murky black liquid in front of him. When he didn’t drink it immediately, she leaned on the bar top, revealing cleavage that Rafian found magnetic—as if his eyes were metal—and waited.

“Tell me if it’s okay,” she said in a cute, nasally way, and he lifted the glass and knocked it back before slamming it down. It felt like he was drinking the runoff from a spicy offering of meat. It burned so much that water came from his eyes, and when the liquor touched his stomach, the dark room lightened a bit, and the cute bartender was looking even better than when he had first regarded her.

“Take a shot, lady. The next one’s on me,” he said, and she turned around and poured herself a glass and stayed in position so that the thick liquid could take its time coming out. Rafian stared at her nice, narrow waist and plump posterior. Even when she turned a bit to smile as she waited, he kept his eyes on her body.

Never made it with a Daltak before, he thought, wondering If he pursued his urges, would it pose a problem for the reunion with his wife? Or would it be him just doing a bit more of what she was upset with him for doing anyway?

A smile crossed the Daltak’s lips slightly as she looked at his empty glass. She walked back over to him and raised her own glass and then sucked it down. A few drops fell from her dark, full lips and landed on her chest. “Oops,” she remarked and licked her lips.

“Maker!” Rafian said and squeezed his eyes shut to resist. He took the napkin from below his glass and leaned forward to dab the droplets that had landed on her breasts.

When he had finished cleaning her up, he reached in the pouch and pulled out two credits that he had brought along. They were classic coins that he’d kept as keepsakes from the last time he had visited Tyhera. He placed them on the bar and the girl winked, then he brought out a third and slid the change over to her.

“You expecting something more for that third hundred?” she asked him, and he made an audible grunt when he saw the amount of money that he had laid down.

“Just information, if you have any for me. My name is … Anstractor, and I need a private charter to take me to Talula,” he said.

“Talula? What you going up there for?” she asked, focusing in on his eyes as if she didn’t expect any other customers for the night. The place seemed more lounge than dive bar, and the number of pillows thrown about on the tiled floor numbered in the hundreds. As his eyes grew accustomed to the low light, Rafian began to see lovers of all shapes, sizes, species and genders, parlaying—along with other things—with one another. There were illegal spices being smoked, and two seedy underworld types were brokering deals out in the open.

He looked at her and shrugged, and she turned her head slightly. The low bulb that sat on the bar illuminated a tattoo she had behind her ear. It was a stylized word, written in old Tyheran, and it stood for Palus Felitious. Smashing the word was a three-fingered fist, a symbol of Daltak defiance. She pulled the collar of her tiny vest up to hide it again and then placed her hands on the counter to gauge his reaction.

“How did you know?” he asked quietly and she took his glass and pushed the coins back to him.

“After you have been fighting for as long as I have, you start to know your friends from your enemies just by looks alone. No one that looks like you would be loyal to them, not unless you were a lord, a baron, or some sort of big-shot trooper, and none of those types would swallow mud with me. So you could consider it a test that I served you mud instead of your whiskey. But, you aced it. So, welcome to Cecille’s, brother,” she said.

“What is your name, Daltak?” he asked again.

“Jelline, Mister Made-Up Name. Care to tell me what they really call you, or are you still trying to pretend that you aren’t one of us?” she said, staring up at him.

“Don’t say my name around too many people or both you and I will regret it,” he said. “My name is Rafian. I have a bit of a reputation.”

“No way you’re Rafian,” she said with a smile. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead or something? The boys still talk about you as if you were a folk hero or something. You gotta let me do it,” she said suddenly and Rafian raised an eyebrow at her.

“Do what, exactly?” Rafian asked, and she jumped up and grabbed him by the ears, then planted a wet, sugary, liquor tasting kiss on his lips.

Their tongues touched and he found it pleasant, so he threw care to the winds and brought his hands up to caress her slender shoulders. She sucked on his bottom lip and held him steady. This went on for a few, long seconds before she released him. Rafian stood stunned as the place grew silent, and he stared at the tiny, horned beauty.

“It’s not every day that a girl gets to make out with one of the most wanted men in the galaxy,” she said. “I can strike that off my list of goals. Thank you, Rafian … or should I say, Anstractor. Hold up a sec, will you? It’s closing time. Don’t get any ideas of running off when I lock up, either. I know a guy that can charter you, but I have to take you when I get outta here,” she said.

Jelline then got on top of the bar and slammed two glasses together. They didn’t shatter but made a loud crashing noise as if they had. The people inside of the bar didn’t seem to pay much attention to it, but then one by one they got up, waved their goodbyes, and exited the door.

By the time the last patron left the building, Jelline had the bar cleaned off and was placing chairs on top of the tables. Rafian volunteered to help and she handed him a wet cloth. He proceeded to wipe off the beer-stained tables and pick up food that was on the floor. When he saw her lifting more chairs to get them off the floor, he playfully threw the rag at her and they decided to swap duties.

“I think that looks good and clean,” Jelline said after mopping up the floor and locking the front door.

Rafian took a look around and observed how old and dark the place was. It still smelled of sweat, old perfume, and cheap liquor, but there was now an added scent to this vile mélange. It smelled of putrid, disgusting water.

“It’s too dark to tell how clean you got it, don’t you think?” he asked, and she rolled her eyes and took his arm as she walked to the back of the building. Jelline opened the door and looked one way and then the other, then pulled out a pistol and held it by her leg. She grimaced as she looked around, but soon the taut muscles in her face relaxed and she skipped across the back alley towards a fence.

Rafian followed, keeping his eyes on her and looking for anything out of the ordinary beneath the dark blue sky. The lights of the city were out as the morning crept in, and it seemed as if all of the citizens within Veece City had finally gone to bed.

As Jelline worked at unlocking the gate, Rafian saw two figures materialize from out of the shadows. They had not seen him as he slunk behind, and the first of these shadow slipped in behind Jelline, clasped her mouth shut and simultaneously disarmed her. The other had a shiny instrument in his hand and was approaching her slowly. But as soon as he got close enough to inflict any harm, Rafian twisted the hilt of the las-sword, triggering the laser’s edge, and rushed at the armed man while swinging the sword down.

The blinding speed of his maneuver caught the man off guard and when the blade took his hands off at the wrist, he paused for a moment before screaming. Rafian spun effortlessly and removed his head, and then dove at Jelline, knocking her and her abductor down. The shocked man tried to retaliate but he wasn’t fast enough. Rafian began to hit him repeatedly in the face with the pommel of the sword.

When the bloody work had been completed and the las-sword was placed back into its sheath, Rafian helped his Daltak friend to her feet. She collected her gun and after a few more tries at the lock, she managed to get the fence open and pulled him through. Locking it behind them and hugging him tightly, she kissed him on the cheek and then released him and bowed.

“Daltak’s respect the life debt, and now I owe you,” she said with a strangely calm tone to her voice. “This is my apartment up here.”

Rafian looked at the tiny flat that sat by itself on the other side of the fenced-in bar. “So you live by your bar? Well, this is convenient,” he said as she turned to unlock her door. “Jelline, listen, you don’t owe me a life debt. When I get to Talula we’re square on any deals – plus what sort of rebel would I be to run off and let those thugs rob you?”

“Thanks, Rafian. I am normally ready for those sorts of things. Guess I was distracted and they got the jump on me before I could show them my gun.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. They were in the dark,” Rafian said.

“And that cool sword of yours; it was a wicked looking thing. How does it glow in the dark like that?” she asked.

“Too long a story to tell you just yet,” he replied.

“Well, my friend will come by tomorrow near midday. That gives us a lot of time to talk. You can tell me about your strange outfit, the device you took off your ear, and that extraordinary sword. I will fix you a Daltak drink that will blow your mind and force you to tell everyone about the bar. It will be my thanks for saving my skin out there, and who knows … I may actually take you to bed with me.”

Memory 18

The next morning Rafian woke up on the couch inside of Jelline’s living room with a blanket thrown over him. He lifted it slowly to see what he was wearing, and he was still in his 3B suit and boots. He had no idea how long he had been sleeping, but it was still a bit dark inside of the house and through an open window he could see that it was daytime.

There was a lot of hustle and bustle outside as merchants got ready for the day, and the troopers that worked the late shift were able to go home. He got up and checked his weapons and pack, then looked around the tiny house for Jelline. All the doors were open inside of the house, and her tidy arrangement of crimson upholstered chairs gave it all a regal look. He stopped at her bedroom door and looked in at her four post bed. She was not inside the house.

He moved back to the couch and sat down, but a noise on the outside brought him to his feet with his las-sword in hand. Something about that noise was alarming, and he slid next to one of the windows and then behind one of Jelline’s tall curtains. There were whispers now and the door opened to two silhouettes. One was Jelline, and the other looked to be a taller, male Daltak. She walked over to a panel and typed in a code. The entire house seemed to shudder as all five windows closed and the door locked.

“Rafian?” she called, and then touched another button which illuminated the place.

“Who is this?” Rafian asked.

He stepped out and sheathed the las-sword, then took three steps to move over to where Jelline and her companion stood. The man was a very pale blue, and his face appeared to have suffered some sort of trauma in the past. The flap that covered the hole that Daltaks used to breathe was missing on him, and there were dark rings around his eyes that gave his visage the appearance of a skull. His hair was cut low around his horns, making him appear bald, but he had bushy whiskers and a beard.

“The name’s Baylon. How are you this morning?” the Daltak said. He exposed his forearm for Rafian to reach in and grasp in the customary Tyheran greeting.

Rafian replied with his name and gripped the man’s forearm. From the instant they touched, he could tell that the Daltak was a lot stronger than he appeared. They sat down in the living room and Jelline excused herself. The short sleep and the brightness that radiated from the lights were disorienting to Rafian’s eyes, and they became bloodshot in a way that the Daltak noticed.

“Hard to sleep in Veece these last couple of nights,” he remarked and Rafian looked at him and shrugged.

“I don’t stay here. Never have, really, but I can imagine it being hard to sleep when you’re having to watch your back constantly,” he said.

“Exactly!” Baylon said as Jelline came back with a cup of tea.

She handed it to him, and then she walked over to Rafian and handed him another. She was in a long, sheer dress that looked like a nightgown, and she wore boots with spikes all over them. She had her braided hair down and it fell loosely over her shoulders. Rafian saw that Baylon had a hard time keeping his eyes off her, and would shoot him momentary glances to see if he, too was looking at the Daltak beauty.

“So, what has Jelline told you about me?” Rafian asked, sinking back into the soft couch and raising the tea cup to his lips.

“She said that you are one of us, a brother, but you’ve been missing for a long time. This was when I asked your name and she told me, ‘Rafian.’ A popular name, no doubt, but not well known on Lochte.”

Jelline took a seat on the love seat in between them, facing the central table which they sat around in a semi-circle. She seemed intrigued by Rafian—which Baylon noticed—and Rafian read into all of this and became irritated.

“Look, Baylon, enough with the games. Let’s get this out of the way so that we can speak business. I’m not with Jelline, haven’t been with Jelline, so you can relax your thyping cave era instincts, alright? I’m a man who needed help, and she was a sweet soul that offered to give it to me. So from what I hear, you have a ship and the means to take me up to Talula. Am I right?” His expression took on a very serious intensity that made Baylon put his cup down in a hurry.

“If that’s what you read from me, it’s not correct, Rafian. The fact is that you are an outsider, a new contact that I have never dealt with in the past. Of course I will be hesitant in our dealings. The beautiful Jelline has nothing to do with this,” he replied, taking on a look of hurt and embarrassment.

“Yeah, and I was hatched yesterday,” Rafian said, glancing over at Jelline.

“Oh boys, is it the dress that’s causing this?” she joked, and shook her head at them as if they were hopeless. “Look, I will excuse myself and go into the other room. That should allow you both to talk business without me being the subject. We’re all friends here, alright? We all hate Palus, and we all want to do what is necessary to bring him down. Gimme a call when you’re finished parlaying and I will come back in here.”

Rafian watched her exit the room, swaying her hips as she did, and then turned back to Baylon, who was watching her too. The Daltak turned back to him and downed his tea quickly. “Alright, Rafian, what do you offer for the flight? I need details so that I can determine if I’m even doing it, and I need to know what you can pay me.”

How about I offer you your life, you piece of schtill? Rafian thought, but stared at the Daltak, thinking about what it was that he had to offer. “When last I lived here, I had a nice cache of credits inside of a house on the eastern borders of Cally, Apun. I can give you the code and take you to the house, and you can grab anything you need out of the safe there,” Rafian said.

“Credits, I like credits,” the Daltak said. “How much are we talking here?”

“Almost a million.” Rafian said without flinching.

The Daltak whistled and could hardly hide the smile that was working its way across his scarred visage. “What do you need me to do for that sort of money? I know that the one trip will not be all you want.”

“I need you to take this crystal and hold on to it. Keep it on your person at all times, and when the time comes I will tell you were you can fence it for even more credits, my friend,” Rafian said. He took one of the black warp crystals from out of his pack, and then handed it to the Daltak, who held it up to the light and smiled.

“Where did you say you were from, Rafian?” the Daltak asked suddenly. “You are certainly richer than any rebel I know, and this alien crystal … I have never seen anything like it in all my years!”

“I’m from Talula. Let’s just leave it at that. And I married and converted one of Palus’s richest Baronesses back when we were here staging fights against Veece. Listen, these are my demands, and you can tell me whether you are in or not. I’ve told you a lot; you are now a liability to me if you refuse, and so let me preface this by saying that you are already committed one way or another. Are we understanding each other?” Rafian asked.

“I get it, brother, you’re making a threat. Either I be your pilot for whatever you have planned or you will find a way to kill me and take my ship. Listen, I just asked out of courtesy – to see if you were honorable or not. For the reward, I mean. Jelline vouched for you, and really that is enough, so at the very least I’m taking you to the moon. I just want to know what else you will be needing me for and whether or not you will pay.”

“I’m paying, you have my word on that. That crystal means the world to me, and I will ask to see it whenever you and I meet up. If the crystal is missing, stolen, or sold, there will be hell to pay. Keep it as I’ve asked and stay patient with me and my mission, and it will be worth more than the credits inside of the house that I told you about. Do right by me, Baylon, and you can be a very rich smuggler.”

Baylon clasped his hands and looked around. He seemed to be physically fighting his excitement back at the prospect of riches. “Deal, Rafian, deal. What do you need?” he said, glancing back to the doorway where Jelline was doing a poor job of hiding as she tried to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“Okay, first I need you to fly me to an area on Talula,” Rafian said. He leaned forward and shifted the crocheted covering of the central table out of the way and placed a small disk on its metal surface. He gestured a bit with his hands over the disc and a holographic image of the Lucan solar system appeared. Baylon glanced at Jelline, and her mouth flew open.

She ran over to the table and knelt before it. “How do you have a holo projector and it’s so small and cute?” she asked, and Rafian looked at her to see if she was genuinely interested.

“Jelline, you’ve been good to me and I want to reward you, too,” he said. “Resistance business is dangerous, and from what I see of how you close your store and put yourself in danger, it’s probably time that you retired from the information broker business, don’t you think?” He rotated the system and then used his fingers to pinch at Tyhera until it zoomed in and became the only planet floating over the disc.

“What do you need me to do?” she asked and got up to sit next to Baylon.

“I need you to make contact with the Tyheran rebels that are in hiding. Take this device, and when I find out where they are, I will call you and tell you where to go.” He handed her a small comm-link which was in the form of a ring. She slipped it on her finger and then nodded at him.

Rafian zoomed out of Tyhera, located Talula, and then zoomed in on it. He located the area where the crystal residue had stopped, and then jabbed at it with his finger while looking up at Baylon. “This area here is where I need you to drop me. It looks like there was some sort of trauma to the moon’s surface near here.” He indicated an area that had a black mark on the moon. “You don’t have to land, just throw me out, and I will call you when I’m ready to be evacuated,” he said to Baylon, and handed him another comm-link.

“All three of us can talk and hear one another on these things, so keep the lovers banter to a minimum,” Rafian said. “Any questions?”

The Daltaks glanced at one another and then back to Rafian. Baylon did not seem comfortable with the plans, so he spoke up and asked, “What happens once I drop you off? How long will you be down there? A few hours, a day, a week? Where are we going after that? How long do you need to use the ship for?”

“I will be on the surface for a day, so you may want to go here to this city and get yourself some rest for the night. When I need you, I will call, but it shouldn’t be long – you have my word on that. We will be in communication, so keep wearing your comms. One week from now, you both will be rich and able to get away from this corrupt city and the Felitian overseers.”

~ * ~

After the meeting and a round of drinks, Jelline went off to the bar to start the day and Baylon and Rafian went to the Starport to make the trip. The vessel Baylon flew was an old model of junk transport. It was barely allowed to land in Starports, but Baylon knew enough of the men that worked the docks to bypass the standard inspections.

When they had gone through the motions of meeting and greeting the various contacts, they strapped into the transport, lifted it above the city, and then flew towards the moon of Talula at a leisurely speed. The shaking of the vessel and the blinking of the lights on the heads-up display made Rafian think they would fall from the sky. He glanced at Baylon, who seemed as cool as ice, and the Daltak merely blinked and gave him the thumbs up.

The junker picked up speed and Rafian could feel the lurching of his insides as gravity fought to keep them on land, while the thrusters fought to take them up towards Tyhera’s atmosphere. They picked up even more speed as time went on, and before long the only sensation Rafian could feel was his body being pushed back into the chair as the thrusters were at full blast.

One monitor on the dash showed the surface of Tyhera as it became obscured by numerous clouds. Another sparked, its display a hole of shattered glass, and Rafian wondered if this would be his last flight before death took him.

Soon they were in space and the artificial gravity and exterior shields turned the flight from frightening to comfortable as the ship flew towards the moon. Baylon kept a slight smile on his face as they drifted along, and it was not unlike the peace that one might see in a fisherman during a cloud-filled day. Rafian unclipped his seatbelt and went to explore the ship. It reminded him of the old warships he had seen in vids of his parent’s time period.

“Bunk is in the very back if you want to sleep away those red eyes,” Baylon called back to him, and Rafian unlocked the door of the bridge and stepped through into a narrow hallway filled with fallen parts from their shaky takeoff. He walked by rooms that had old crates and cargo, almost tripping over several canisters that were rolling around. He picked these up and wedged them into an empty box, then closed it. He then walked past several other doorways that led to the ship’s necessary assets.

There was a doctor’s bay that was being used as additional storage, a filthy bathroom that hadn’t been cleaned in ages, and Baylon’s bedroom, which was actually clean. The “bunk” was a hammock that had been quickly tied between the walls of a narrow storage space, and there was a circular bay window on the wall that showed Tyhera shrinking as they flew.

Rafian placed his pack in the corner of the room, slid the door shut, and removed his 3B suit. He had been wearing it for two days and prolonged contact with its alien fabric would make the body assume that it was actually a part of it. He had made this mistake as a young marine on a moon named Meruda, and it had landed him in a hospital for several weeks.

He thought about taking a shower but couldn’t bring himself to step foot in the bathroom. So, he pulled on shorts from his pack, then walked to the kitchen and poured water into a bucket. He took it back to his room where he “bathed” in the best way he could in that closed in space.

The ship seemed alien and primitive compared to what he was used to on Anstractor. Marika’s a control freak, she would want to fly herself around. I wonder if she figured out how to fly these old ships, or is she using the crystals to get where she needs to go? he thought. The image of Marika fussing made him smile, and then he thought about her and Marian arguing over their next destination. What a strange dynamic those two must have, he thought. I never knew that they were such good friends, not so good that Marika would risk her life and career to follow her out to this schtill.

After dumping the water, he went back to the hammock and went to sleep. When he woke up, it was to the sound of Baylon shouting his name, so he hurriedly dressed, slipping back into his 3B suit, and collected his things to see what was going on.

“What is it?” he asked Baylon as he jumped back into the co-pilot’s chair and buckled himself in.

“I wanted to show you the surface, and why I agreed to help,” Baylon said, regarding him with a well-rested face and what appeared to be a change of clothes. “You were tired, rebel; you were out for hours. I’ve been calling your name for five minutes now and you barely moved an inch.”

Rafian looked at the moon through the front of the ship, and saw that everything was black and charred as far as his eyes could see. He looked at Baylon questioningly, and the Daltak merely shrugged as they cruised at low altitude above the surface.

“This, my new friend, is the result of the scortchet bomb. Whatever rock you were sleeping under probably prevented you from hearing about it, but the Fels used it to kill about a million of our resistance members and allies. It was bad, Rafian; I could actually feel them dying. Do you know what I mean?”

“I’m a Mera Ku monk; I understand more than you’d believe. Had I been here when this happened, the pain of our people alone would have killed me. Why didn’t she tell me this was what was going on? I would have never hesitated.” Rafian looked out at the blackened landscape with a heavy heart. “How long ago did this happen, Baylon?”

“It’s been a few months.”

Rafian pulled out the holo-disc and brought up the map. He punched in the coordinates on the ship’s computer. “We have another hour or so before we reach my destination, Baylon. Is there a hatch that you can drop me when you fly over it?”

“Yeah, the third bay room to the right; you will see a circular hatch on the floor. When you’re ready, just go back there and stand on it, then give me the signal and I will get as low as possible and let you out. Seems like suicide. You do know that Talula’s gravity is immense right? How will you survive the fall once I open that hatch?”

“I’m a skilled Phaser, Baylon, so don’t worry about it. I will call you when I land to ease your mind, but for the time being don’t worry for me. I have lots of tricks up my sleeve.”

Memory 19

The wind was a vicious, humid beast that tore at Rafian’s face as he fell from the old ship towards a patch of trees to the south of the camp. Baylon had let him out at about 20,000 feet, and when he slipped through the hatch and leveled himself out in to free fall, it felt as if he had fallen into a sauna.

The camp looked bigger than he thought, and from where he fell he could see a large bonfire in the center. He forced his arms down to his sides and then spread them quickly, activating the gliding wings that were a part of his pack. He glided away from the camp, caught an air pocket and spun, then dove down towards the trees by bringing his arms to his sides again.

To anyone watching him from the ground, he would have appeared to be a giant bird, performing tricks beneath the moonlight. He cruised above the trees, turned towards the camp and collapsed the wings as he tucked and rolled onto a grassy field that stretched between the forest and the campsite. He was still several hundred yards away from the camp, but he stayed low and touched his ear, activating his comm.

“Baylon, do you hear me?” he whispered.

“I hear you, brother, loud and clear. I must say, that was some fancy flying you were doing just now. Are you on the ground, or in a tree?” he joked, and Rafian grunted with disapproval.

“Listen, Baylon, take the ship to Jemi City and wait for me. When I’m ready, I’ll send you my coordinates so you can pick me up.”

Baylon confirmed that he would be waiting, and Rafian stood up and touched his wrist. He wore a small wristband with a number of dials and as he twisted them, he faded and became invisible. Unlike Marian, he had come to Luca with Phaser technology, and now that the Ranalos couldn’t see him, he sprinted towards the camp, zigging and zagging to match the wind.

He was up to the first tent in under three minutes, and he twisted the band to remove the “cloak” so the device could recharge. He pulled up a handheld vid communicator and lifted it up to his face, then moved it around to see where the traces of crystal would take him. One of the large tents in the center was where it stopped, so he packed away his tools and slipped between two dark tents, and then worked his way towards the center.

It took another ten minutes for him to reach the center but there was a large meeting going on between the Ranalos and a number of Tyheran freedom fighters. Rafian sank back a bit and then started walking towards Marian’s tent when he almost stumbled into a soldier. The man was stooped over a hole in the ground, relieving himself of the night’s meal. Rafian doubled back when he saw the man, whose back was turned, and his focus deadlocked on a magazine. The ground was soft dirt so it was easy to sneak, but he did not want to risk discovery any longer.

Cloaking and walking around to the front of Marian’s camp, he slid between the two guards that Illi had posted in front of her door.

Once inside he uncloaked, removed his pack, and took a deep breath as he regarded for the first time in weeks, his beautiful wife. She was sleeping peacefully on a dais built of furs and silken sheets. She looked like a prized princess in the company of the war-hardened Ranalos and he looked around to see what she had for protection. Nothing stuck out to him and he felt concerned so he walked around, hoping his silhouette was not visible through the thick Ranalos tent walls.

He stared at her for a long time, scarcely believing that he was back in front of her. He removed his boots and slipped off his gloves and gear, then slid under the sheets to lay next to her, watching her as she slept.

In a quick instant she was on him, her knife free and at his throat as she mounted him and placed her thumb against his eye. He dared not move and didn’t breathe, hoping she would look before acting and not force him to disarm her roughly.

“Rafian?” She whispered the question in disbelief, then blinked her eyes and shook her head before regarding him again.

“I’ve missed you, my hatch kitten,” Rafian said as he reached up and touched her waist, feeling her warmth and strong, slender form for the first time in what felt like ages. He didn’t want to release her so he held her firmly, relaxing his hips to feel her soft posterior against his groin. She tried to object, and ask him how it was he was there, but he took her knife away and dropped it onto the rug beneath the bed.

He reached up and touched the back of her neck and she let him bring her in for a kiss. “Rafian, how are you here?” she managed to whisper, but he suckled her neck and took an earlobe into his mouth and ran his hands through her hair.

“I’m a fool. I’m so sorry, Rhee … I’m sorry that I—”

“Oh shut up, shut up, shut up!” Marian whispered sharply, and placed her hand on his throat as she touched his chest with the other. “You came here. That says everything I need to hear. Now, take this off,” she said, sounding out of breath as she jabbed her finger into his ribs.

Rafian removed the 3B suit and she lifted off her gown, and they were on to one another like starving predators, eager to tear the other apart but wanting to savor every second in case it was all a dream. Rafian took his time and explored every inch of his wife, and she let him have her, pushing aside all of her anger, at least for that moment.

Her eyes closed in a stasis of limitless ecstasy and she sent prayers to the makers to beg them to keep her there eternally. Their lovemaking was gentle, passionate, and lengthy. Their bodies spoke volumes to one another about how they each felt inside, and by the time they were finished they could barely move.

Rafian stared down into the black mass of Marian’s hair and fought back tears of happiness as he felt her flesh against his skin: slick, warm, and familiar. It was a familiarity he had not realized he missed as much as he did until he saw her there beneath the silken sheets.

“I’m glad you came,” Marian said softly, and Rafian leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

“I missed the hell out of you,” he said, but she didn’t seem to be listening to him.

“You know, I told Marika not to call you and here you are, anyway. I told her, ask Tayden, Camille, anyone, but don’t tell Rafian. I—I thought it would make me seem weak, having you here after our fight. But, I don’t know, when I woke up and you were here, I hoped and hoped and hoped that I wasn’t dreaming.”

She twisted herself to lay in front of him, but he kept his arms around her, not wanting her to separate just yet.

“You know what the problem is?” she said after a while.

“What is it, Rhee?” he replied.

“It’s your galaxy, it’s Anstractor. You are not yourself there, not the Rafian I fell in love with. Am I making sense? Here in Luca, I have you. There, I am forced to share you with everyone and they are not okay with allowing me to have the biggest portion of you.”

Rafian slipped his fingers into her hair and kissed her, realizing that he had made a promise to her when he gave her the ring—that she still wore—and then proceeded to break it whenever it was convenient. Any other woman would have left him for good, or done something to sabotage him for breaking her heart. He felt lucky to have her, indebted in a way, and he wanted her to forgive him and allow him to prove himself again.

“It does seem that way, doesn’t it, Rhee? Here in Luca, we are husband and wife first and warriors second. In Anstractor, we are Phasers first, soldiers second and married last. How do we fix that moving forward—especially since it involves so much more than us?”

Marian kissed him gently and then sat up as she whipped her hair out of the way and gave him a warm smile.

“Well, I was thinking. Help me set up with some crystals and you can leave me here to be with my people. Here, I can undo the damage the Felitians have wrought and you can go back to the war against the Geralos. I would visit you—very often—and you can visit me the rest of the time. We would miss each other greatly. That cannot be avoided.  But we would stay happily married and on top of that, we could simultaneously tackle the issues of our two worlds.”

“That’s a tough proposition, Marian, but I need to be with you more than you want to believe, and it would kill me to have limited time with you in that way. This cannot be your wish.”

“Of course it isn’t a wish, but I am not happy in Anstractor.”

“You were not happy because you were never given a chance to be happy. I brought you into a war that you have no stock in, forced you to befriend strangers, and I turned into a terrible husband who neglected you.”

Marian thought for a long time and then nodded. “It wasn’t all you, baby, so please don’t take all of the blame. I put up with a lot, yes, but we could have talked it out. I left to punish you more than to come home and check on things, and I am wrong for that.” She looked around, as if she were taking mental notes of their surroundings, then looked at him again as she ran her hands over his chest. “You know, if we could remain this way, I don’t think location would matter at all. I just need to know that despite everything, you are mine, Rafian VCA. Mine and mine alone.”

“You got it, Baroness Rienne. I am yours.”

Their talk took them into the early hours of the morning, and though there was stirring outside from the scouts going out, they continued to talk, making sure that they were okay.

“So, I got some news yesterday from our contacts in Veece,” Marian said as she lay on his chest and stared up at the tent’s ceiling.

“I was just in Veece. What’s going on there?” he asked, and she stopped for a moment to turn and look at him.

“How are things there?” she asked, her eyes reflecting worry.

“Sometimes I forget that Veece is your hometown, you know that Rhee? With all the crap that is going on there, the troopers running amuck, and Marika’s work…well, let’s just say that the place reminded me of an ant nest when you accidentally step in it. So many people milling about, even at night, and it’s under martial law,” Rafian said.

“Did you get into anything while you were there?” Marian asked and he nodded, not wanting to get into the details. “I really hate what the Fels have done to the people here, Rafy, but it can be over soon if you can lend me a hand.”

“What do you need? What’s the plan?” he asked.

“We have a guy in the Fels, a high ranking Crimson Guard. Illi, the warlord here, told me that he spoke with him early yesterday morning. Palus Felitious will be flying in to Veece to pay his respects to Qeran Kyle. There will be defenses all over, and more Crimson Guard than we have ever seen, but that’s nothing for a Phaser to get through,” she said.

“So, while you’re helping to rescue the rebels here, you want me to go down there and take off his head? That would be a pleasure. I just need to know—” Rafian began, but Marian used her hand to cover his mouth.

“It has to be me. I hope you understand. That man is responsible for everything I was and everything I hate about myself. I need to end him, I need to feel him die. It will fill this void, this thyping void that has been eating at me since the day you took me away from the Fels,” Marian said. “You probably don’t understand, but I have a guilt that refuses to leave me, no matter what I do. I left with you to go to Anstractor, and I trained my butt off. I joined the Phasers and lost myself into the missions. You may have thought that I did all of that to be close to you, Raf, but I did it to forget. I did it to wash away the old blood with new, Geralos blood. But it hasn’t been enough, and I can’t get past it. Now, now that I am here, in this galaxy, on Tyhera, and Talula, I’m seeing what is being taken from poor people so that spoiled rich brats like myself can grow up with titles, assuming we’re better.”

She stood up and brushed her hair back, and Rafian reached up and touched her wet cheek.

“I understand Rhee, I get it, and I won’t stand in the way. I know that you will get it done, masterfully. Not just because you’re my wife, but because you’re one of the best Phaser Aces I have ever seen.”

Marian didn’t say anything for a time, but rocked slowly, thinking. Rafian watched her, wondering what it was that she was planning on doing.

“I was going to take a transport down to Tyhera tomorrow, to see if I could board his ship and kill him when he leaves the planet. The timing is tight, and I know it’s a long shot, but it’s worth a try. If I die in the attempt it would sends a message loud and clear that the bastard is not invincible,” she said. She leaned down and kissed Rafian on the lips and then wiggled into his arms. “But then you showed up, and I took it as a sign that I can get really get him this time; I can get him in front of the people where he will feel the safest.”

Rafian kissed her lips and held her there, massaging her gently. “You have a lot to do, so you need your rest. We’ll talk some more when we get up. Come, close your eyes; there’ll be time for revenge talk in a few hours.”

~ * ~

The mid-morning hours brought a light inside the tent that looked like an orange glow through the material. Outside, they could hear the angry shouts of the commanders corralling their troops, and the frustrated grunts of hung-over warriors, answering as best they could. The smell of roasted meats, coffee, and soap permeated the air and then the sound of clanging of metals as they geared up in preparation.

Rafian opened his eyes and saw Marian standing near a bucket of water, running a long, wet rag over her legs as she finished cleaning up.

“How long have you been up?” he asked. He sat up and then lifted the covers to glance down at himself.

“Maybe thirty minutes or so. This place is so humid. I felt nasty and icky the whole time we slept, so I had to get up and wash it all off.”

“You look good enough to eat,” he said.

Marian whipped her wet hair to the side and stared at him through slatted eyes. “Don’t get any ideas; I’m still upset with you,” she said.

“Good, because you need to stay in a state of rage so that you won’t hesitate when it comes to Palus. By the way, I forgot to ask, have you been home to see your parents?”

“Why would I do something as stupid as that?” she asked and shook her head.

“You have parents who love you, Marian, but I understand. I just assumed with your nostalgia and being back here, you’d try to reconnect … it was a stupid question. Don’t worry about it,” he said.

“My parents are loyalists to Palus Felitious, Raf. The second I stepped foot in that house, there’d be troopers on me from all over the place. Thype them. I was merely their meal ticket, and I feel no love or kinship for them despite us sharing blood. Plus, I didn’t get a chance to tell you, but I ran into another family member who called Fels on me as soon as she thought I was comfortable in her house.” She dried herself off and slipped on her 3B suit, then pulled a dress on over it and a pair of boots.

“You’re my only family, Rafian. I’m not just saying that. So keep that in mind when you’re with another woman and are about to sink what’s mine inside of her, okay?” she spat.

“Must you be so disgusting about it? Come over here,” he commanded.

She walked over and sat next to him. He touched the towel that she had on her hair, and then swung her down gently and lay her on her back.

“I didn’t mean to say it like that. I’m just agitated,” she said and closed her eyes and drew in some breath.

Rafian leaned down and kissed her, brushing his lips against hers. He ran his hand up her arm and when their palms finally touched, he deposited a small pouch filled with crystals inside her hand. Marian sat up suddenly and opened the pouch, and the glittering gems brought a light to her eyes that he hadn’t seen in years.

“You will need those in order to get him, my Phaser queen. I thought about what you said to me, and everything you said was important and true. It will not be enough to kill Palus; hell, any of us could bring a sniper from Anstractor and put him down at range. We need to make it known that Luca has protection: not from the resistance that merely annoys him, but from a mysterious place. A place where warriors reside that can vanish at will, kill at 10,000 paces, and drive a knife,”—he gestured to her blade when he said this—“into the heart of an empire.

“That message needs to come from a true daughter of Luca, not an adopted son like me. Rhee, babe, this mission is important, so don’t hesitate to jump whenever you can—we will get more crystals when we get home. No unnecessary risks, okay? I want you to jump down to Veece and cut out his heart and then jump back to me. I will have a crystal ready to receive you inside of a safe place.”

Rafian got up and went to the water basin and began to clean himself while Marian strapped on her knives. Suddenly, she walked over to him and hugged him despite his wetness, and they held each other there for a time.

“Are you going back to Anstractor now?” she asked with sadness in her voice.

He shook his head and looked off to the side. “Are you joking? I’m not leaving without my wife. What I aim to do now is to fly back to Tyhera, set things up for our departure, and then wait for you. Rhee, you do know that once you do this, we cannot easily return?”

Marian stepped back and crossed her arms and then nodded to him with a smirk. “I know, Raf. I’ve thought this through. Just keep your nano-comm open and wait for me. I will let you know once Palus Felitious is gone from this world.”

Memory 20

The one-sided jump. It was the most advanced crystal jump that a Phaser could make without the main black crystal, and Marian had only attempted it once in her career. Now she had to do it when it really counted, and there was no one to talk her through it.

Normally a Phaser used two crystals to open a portal. Two crystals with the same properties would channel one another to perform the transference. The Phaser would only need to be within the portal when it opened in order to teleport from one to the other. A one-sided jump was unnatural: it took one crystal and would tear open an exit in an area of the world that you once visited, or could visualize in your mind’s eye. Miscalculate or lose focus and you could jump into space, or into the sea where you would more than likely die.

Marian held the translucent crystal in her gloved hand and focused her mind. She called on her training to visualize Veece, and reinforced it with thoughts from her troubled childhood. She could see the dusty streets being swept by androids, and the domed rooftop, beautiful in color and simplicity. She focused as hard as she could to see it all, and after a few minutes had passed, she felt herself lighten and the portal tore open in front of her.

Thinking positive thoughts, she stepped through, and as much as she wanted to squeeze her eyes shut in anticipation of her doom, she kept them open. The world shook and became blackness all around her. A second later, she stepped out onto the paved road of the Felitian palace. There were guards everywhere and people milling about aimlessly.

“It worked,” she whispered. “Thank the makers, it worked.”

Marian was dressed in a loose-fitting dress with sandals, and her hair was up. She noticed that many of the women in the area were dressed in a similar fashion and she breathed a sigh of relief. She checked the time and saw it was still afternoon. She would have time to prepare, since Palus was expected to show up in the early evening.

Pushing past the crowd in the square, she started running towards the hotel. After the assassination, she would need to escape, and risking another one-sided jump would be beyond foolish—especially when things went bananas.

She slowed her run to a brisk walk after a time, and checked her hair to make sure it was still pinned up. A large, handsome man intercepted her stride and his shorter, pock-faced friend joined him.

“Hello, Sha’an, you seem to be in a hurry. Is there anything we can do to help you?” the short, ugly man said as he touched her lightly on the arm.

Marian bowed slightly with a tiny smile, and then inhaled to calm herself and looked them over. “Well, aren’t the two of you the Tyheran gentlemen. And here I thought that good manners were a thing of the past. I’m in need of a bath to wash my dirty feet. Those confounded androids have been doing a poor job of keeping the streets free of dust and … oh, just look at them,” she remarked and showed her sandaled foot, rocking it side by side.

“Sha’an, you should really wear boots when you travel these days; it is a hectic time. You may need to run if the resistance shows up, or step past a dead—”

“Jodji!” The tall, pale friend shouted to cut off his less handsome friend. “I’m sorry, Sha’an, my friend forgets himself around a lady. We can show you to the hotel, and help you get situated if you like!”

Marian regarded him with a large, grateful smile but beneath it she wondered when it was that they would try to rob her. It was one of the oldest cons and she had been a victim before, back when she was one of the clueless Elite of Tyhera.  They took her to the Imperator Hotel, a smaller, more luxurious place than the one Marika had stayed in, and when they entered the building, she noticed the clerk wouldn’t take his eyes off them.

“Please let me have a room near the top of the building facing the square where our Emperor will be,” Marian said to the clerk.

He smiled at her and punched in some details, then stopped to look down at her. “It will be 300 credits for the night, Sha’an. Will it be you inside of the room or should we prepare accommodations for your companions?” he said, looking them over with some frustration.

“Oh, only me, thank you, sir,” she said quickly, but she reached forward and touched his hand and then widened her eyes and tilted her head slightly. The clerk took the hint immediately and triggered the security alert. A trooper walked over with a gun in his hand and regarded them curiously before looking at the clerk.

“Valon, please escort these two gentlemen out of the lobby; I believe they’re trespassing,” the clerk said.

“Oh, no! Please don’t hurt them, they were merely trying to help!” Marian exclaimed as the trooper grabbed the men beneath their arms and walked them out of the building. She could barely hide the grin that crossed her face at thwarting their attempt to play her for the fool. She was convincing as a member of Tyhera’s elite, and they had underestimated her.

“Those two would have taken you up to your room, robbed you, and then made sure you couldn’t talk about it,” the man said.

“Well, that is both frightening and concerning,” Marian replied. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“It is my pleasure, Sha’an,” the clerk said with a smile, and she slid him the credits plus an extra 50, which he snatched up quickly with a look of appreciation across his face. As she made to leave, he held up a finger, and then reached below the desk and pulled out two towels with the hotel’s insignia embroidered on them. As she made to thank him he put a finger to his lips and winked at her to let her know that it was a gift.

Marian took the golden towels and sniffed them, and the spicy scent of Tyheran roses combined with something else on the minty side sent her head swimming in pools of nostalgia. With a smile and a flourish, she crossed the lobby and then ran up the stairs to her new room. The hotel was only five stories high, so she got there quickly. She locked the door, removed her sandals, and took a bath.

The style of the room was an exquisite throwback to a time before technology. The bath used actual water instead of cleaning mist, and there were towels all around it so that she could settle in without feeling the cold porcelain of the bowl. She balanced the hot and cold temperature to a satisfactory warmth, poured in the soap, and then lowered her body into it and closed her eyes to relax.

When she had bathed and laid on the bed for an eternity, trying to calm the nerves that came with the anticipation, Marian napped for the better part of an hour. When she woke up, she washed her face and then expanded the two packing cubes Blu had given her. The cubes produced a variety of weapons and clothing along with a holo transmitter.

She found a lime green dress with long sleeves and a low back, and she slipped it on, along with tall brown boots made for combat but still fashionable. She took her sheath from off the bed, strapped this to her upper thigh where it would be accessible, and clipped the pouch of crystals next to it.

When she was finished with her preparations, she tied up her hair and then touched her nano-comm and sat on the bed.

“Raf,” she whispered as soon as the static cleared.

She could hear the whooshing sound and then a familiar voice, deep yet soothing. “My beautiful hatch kitten,” Rafian said into her ear and she closed her eyes and smiled, trying to envision him riding away from some mischief with the Fels.

“Where are you, love? What’s your status?” she asked him.

There was a moment of silence and the whooshing stopped and then Rafian was back, his voice like someone that was running while talking. “I am … one second, babe.” There was the sound of an explosion and laser fire, then laughter and she could hear Blu the Deijen’s voice, loud and excited. Rafian then said, “Let’s just say I am with old friends, catching up.”

“Good to hear. Are you still on Tyhera, then?”

“Yeah, near Korlath city. We just destroyed a Felitian outpost, one of the important ones. Blu says that it will keep their radios silent about the events on Talula. Have you heard anything?”

“No,” Marian said, “I haven’t had a chance to call Illi since my arrival here.”

“Well Illi is a warmonger, so this shouldn’t surprise you. They moved on the settlement this very morning and are in the middle of a firefight to get the rebels out,” he said.

Marian clapped her hands suddenly with excitement. She hopped to her feet and walked to the window. Outside, there was a drone of trumpets as a parade started, and the troopers were beginning to rope people off from the large open square where Palus would speak. “Everyone is doing their part, and it’s almost time for mine,” Marian said. “Raf, once Felitious falls, it is going to be absolute anarchy everywhere. Does Blu know? Are you ready? Are the rebels prepared?”

“They will know when it happens; only you and I are in on that,” Rafian said.

“You don’t trust them, Raf?” she asked with surprise.

“Don’t worry about our friends. I will get them to safety. You just Phaser up and get through your mission. Listen. You may only get one chance at this,” Rafian said and she could hear his breathing pick up as another explosion went off. “I have to go, but call me when it’s done. Do not tell anyone what you’re about to do, no matter how trustworthy. Palus Felitious is everywhere, but we are outsiders. This is your kill to make, Marian. Drive it home. Drive that cruta home!”

~ * ~

The massive cruiser hovered above the square in order to allow the crowd to dissipate. It resembled a large cricket, if the cricket was without legs and its wings stayed folded at the sides.

Marian trembled visibly as the anger and anticipation grew within her. She stood amongst a cheering crowd of hundreds looking up at the ship. It was the arrival of Palus Felitious, the so-called “Galactic Ruler of Luca,” and she could not keep her anxiety in check, as it threatened to reveal her true intent.

Using her training to calm herself, Marian thought of the chaos that would consume the city once she had taken her knife and driven it into his heart. The cruel image brought a smile to her face and forced her to relax. She began cheering like the women around her, blending in as best she could, like a good citizen of Tyhera.

The cruiser settled down gently, the tiny legs of the cricket touching the ground and supporting its massive body as the procession near the palace began to play the ceremonial battle song of the Felitians. Marian smirked at how safe everyone was feeling: they had thought that the scortchet bomb would wipe out all of the rebels, but they had not counted on a Phaser like herself blinking out of the galaxy only to return to kill their king when his guard was down. She grew more enthusiastic with her cheers; why not celebrate the revenge that was about to happen and the removal of the snake that had killed everyone she loved?

The bridge descended from the ship and a host of Felitian guards marched out in uniformed rows, their black armor shiny and their helmets decorative with bright red tassels protruding from the top. They looked like inky androids with blood gushing from their heads. In any other situation, Marian would have marveled at how pristine and awesome they looked as they poured out of the ship to create a human hallway for their king to walk safely through.

Marian ran at them screaming, pushing the crowd out of her way as she played the part of the intoxicated fan. There were others that did the same, overcome by the joy of seeing “the galaxy’s savior” coming home from another glorious victory. The armored troopers that blocked the crowd from the ship would not let them through and while the one who stopped Marian was not violent, he nudged her back hard enough to let her know not to try it again.

Palus walked down the ramp through his guards with a strong, confident stride. His cloak flowed to the ground in its crimson glory, his golden armor shining brightly underneath. On his shoulders were decorative pauldrons that held his family crest. It was a crow attempting to swallow a sun and despite her misgivings, Marian had to admit that the armor was beautiful.

I should skin him and bring his pretty shell back home for our trophy case, she thought as she continued to act excited, wanting him to see her amongst those thousands of people. Palus was too busy playing the part of a god to his people to notice another worshipper amongst the throng. He kept his chiseled chin high, its sharp spike of a goatee jutting out in defiance and his tanned, flawless face looking at his palace and the moon that hovered peacefully beyond it.

“You all honor your king,” he said proudly, and the crowd erupted in agreement.

Marian slipped a crystal into her palm as the guards made to build him a path through the crowd. She bent down and tossed it towards the area where she knew their march would lead. She stood up quickly, hoping no one had seen her, then dropped another one at her feet and slipped the carf knife into her palm. Marika had convinced her that the knife’s alien blade could puncture any metal, and she hoped it was true, as she only had one shot at killing him.

The guards began to march and Marian eyed the crystal, hoping it wouldn’t be stepped on or kicked. She cleared her thoughts, silenced the crowd in her mind, and concentrated.

To get this close and miss her chance would be worse than death to Marian. Would they see the crystal, would someone kick it out the way? Each stomp of that oily black procession of death only managed to be a decibel lower than the pounding of her heart. Be calm girl, let fate do it’s work, she thought to herself as she eyed the crystal intently. She could see his head bopping at the rear of his guard, and she could see that the crystal was being kicked around by their marching.

“Maker, be kind,” she whispered intently and bared her teeth as she watched them go. She held her breath; he was almost there, and the crowd was pushing her into the troopers that had already warned her to watch herself. Her breathing stopped and her eyes closed briefly, and she began to whisper to herself.

“Be calm, Rhee, become the knife, become the blade that puts an end to this man.”

As Palus neared the location of the gem, she activated the portal and stepped through the bright tear to emerge in front of him, her blade finding itself buried to the hilt inside his stomach. It had slipped through the armor as easily as paper and though she did it out of instinct, she did not hesitate to admire her handiwork.

Suddenly her hands were moving at blinding speed, stabbing away at the neck and face of Palus as fast as she could. Years of training as a fencer came through with the blurred movement of her hands. Phaser conditioning, time killing Geralos in the field … it was all instinct, and it was unlike anything they had ever seen in Tyhera or the other eleven planets.

By the time the guards had recovered from the stun of the light to realize that their king was on the ground, twitching in a pool of blood, Marian was back where she had started. The bloody knife was back in its sheath, hidden below the dress, and a fresh crystal was in her hand which she threw into the air. She jumped up towards it and was gone in the blink of an eye.

The chaos that ensued after the assassination of Palus was nothing that could be easily described. The Crimson Guard, no longer poised and secure in their judgment, took to the crowd, killing anyone that had on the green and white colors that Marian wore. They massacred people, and the ones that tried to flee trampled one another in a stampede. There were tears, screams and a feeling of foreboding as the reality of what had happened settled in.

While all of this was taking place, Marian VCA emerged from a portal that appeared inside her hotel room and jumped on the bed, screaming happily and rolling around with maniacal laughter.

She triggered her nano-comm and squealed with happiness when Rafian’s voice came on. “How did he die?” Rafian asked.

“Surprised, shocked, humbled, as my blade rendered his pretty armor useless and his masses of guards were unable to keep him safe. I want to believe that I saw regret in his eyes, but I stabbed him no less than thirty times and he’s deader than dead,” she said.

Rafian repeated her words as if to a crowd, and in the background there was an eruption of cheers and applause. Tears began to roll down her face and she wiped them away, but then there came the trembling as her heavy heart grew heavier. She needed him there; if not him then someone else to hug. Palus Felitious was gone, and it had been done publicly and violently. If that didn’t inspire the sleeping masses to overthrow their local masters, nothing would.

“You know, you could have joined Marika’s order back in the day, Rhee,” Rafian said. “But listen, you need to get out of there. We are waiting for you in Genova. Meet me at the old Aygis temple outside of Cally. Do you remember it?”

“How could I forget, Raf? It was once our home,” she said.

“You’re right, the memories of the past right before we jumped to Anstractor are still foggy for me. We have to let things boil for about a week so we may as well get schtill-faced. What do you say?”

“They will be tearing the planet apart looking for a brown woman in a white and green dress and a tiny red woman in all black,” Marian said as she rose. She risked a glance outside her window at the hell breaking loose. “They won’t find schtill. Once the week is up, we can rendezvous with the resistance leaders. With Palus dead and Talula reclaimed, they will be back plotting again, probably wondering who did the assassination. We can catch up with them and give them the necessary direction to reclaim their planets.”

“I anticipate it being another month or so before we can safely jump home, Rhee, but I am proud of you. I will be by your side until you are ready, and if you need more time you need only to ask it,” Rafian said.

Marian’s knees buckled but she hoped that he hadn’t noticed. His words hit her like a bolt of lightning. It was more than his words; it was what was behind them. Here was Rafian, obsessed with his quest to destroy the Geralos, but putting his quest to the side in order to support her in any way she wished. She hadn’t thought this possible back when she left him, but here he was, giving up everything for her.

“You’re the best,” she managed to say, glad that her voice didn’t crack. And to think I was ready to divorce you, she thought, relieved. “I will get everything packed and get out of the city. See you at the temple, and thanks for the crystals. Without them, no, without you, my beloved planet would never be rid of that lunatic tyrant.”

Memory 21

After packing her belongings and shrinking them into cubes, Marian waited for night to come so that the hotel would be a forgotten structure against the violet sky. When it was dark and the streetlights came on to illuminate the roads, she slid the glass of her window up and looked out into the city. The only figures moving below the hotel were troopers running about. It seemed as if the citizens had been ordered to stay inside of their homes by the way the place seemed empty.

She turned and looked up at the sky where the cruisers hovered, shining spotlights, and then she looked off in the distance at the palace, which would normally be the brightest building in all of Veece. The city stood still, a dark, motionless shadow of itself, and a part of her felt remorse for the citizens who were mere innocents in the war.

Turning out her lights and walking to the window, Marian slung the backpack on and checked her 3B suit. She plaited her hair into a single braid so that she could move with relative ease. She threw a leg out and pulled herself up using the suctions on the 3B’s gloves and boots. It didn’t take long for her to gain the rooftop, but when she did, she looked up and saw there was a trooper looking down at her with disbelief.

Reaching down to slide out her carf knife, Marian stuck him in the chest, killing him almost instantly. She tried to push at him to keep him from falling, but he screamed and fell past her down to the ground. The loud thump brought more troopers who ran and flashed lights up at her position. Marian had barely climbed up as laser fire shredded the stone where she once was. She got to her feet, sprinted across the roof’s edge, then jumped on to the next.

The domed rooftops of Veece were not easy to grip, and as soon as Marian landed she began to slide off. If it weren’t for the suctions on her gloves she would have fallen, but she used them to climb the black dome of the city’s temple and ran, slid, and jumped to another while the cruisers began to converge on her location.

Shots were all around and Marian decided that the street would be safer. She slid down a pipe and took to the road, running below the eaves and avoiding the lights. Soon there were new vessels in the air, firing shots recklessly down on the city. Fires broke out and the Felitian cruisers turned their attention on these new invaders. Dogfights broke out above the vulnerable city. Screams were everywhere and Marian sprinted like she’d never sprinted before to get out of Veece.

Buildings started to crumble around her from misfired missiles, but she paid no attention to them as she scampered up a ramp that took her onto the walls surrounding the market. She ran along the wall and jumped as a section of it exploded. The pieces of debris tore into her side and she felt the pressure, but the alien fabric of the 3B suit protected her.

She caught the edge of a window and climbed another structure to the top. Then a missile hit an area a few feet to her right, and the building collapsed, taking her with it.

Troopers and civilians took to the streets, firing up at the attackers. Some of these invaders, who Marian saw were Daltak, had swung down into the city itself and were firing on not only the troopers but the citizens themselves. A dark thought took over her and she wouldn’t let herself believe it. The Daltaks she saw wore the same uniform as Illi’s men, and it was very likely they were a unit sent from the moon to take advantage of Palus’s death.

More missiles exploded and Marian got to her feet to run again. She covered her mouth and closed her eyes to slow the smoke that seemed to be everywhere. She left the ruins of the apartment homes to bolt across the square. Another missile flew near her but she picked up speed, pushing past anyone who stood in her way.

She darted down an alleyway and kept her head low, running so fast and hard that the world became a blur. Her only thoughts were on survival and escaping Veece city. Her birthplace was falling, just like Palus had fallen. Yet civilians were dying, innocents, and it was her friends, her fellow resistance members, who were doing it.

The troopers had been corrupt enforcers of Felitious’s will, but the citizens did not deserve the fires and savagery that the Daltaks were giving them.

The chaos slowed as she reached an area of the city near the palace, and though she ran past troopers, none of them bothered to stop her. Illi now had troops all over Veece, and since he was on Talula rescuing Amanxa, she wondered just how large his army was.

Marian saw the outer wall of the city looming on her left, so she ran, jumped and stuck to it, climbing as fast as she could to gain the top. She ran along the wall towards the stream and then dove outside into the freezing waters. She struggled to get out before the current could take her, and managed to grab a rock near the bank and pull herself out of the drink.

“What a mess,” she muttered, then got to her feet and continued to run in the direction of Cally. She could hear more explosions, screams and gunfire, but something told her not to look back. Veece was over, the last of her past, but there was nothing to celebrate as far as she was concerned.

~ * ~

Marian pushed forward through the woods and could not see much due to the moon’s obscured light. It was symbolic of the lights of Veece going out, as the battle continued between the invaders and the desperate troopers continued.

As she felt her way past the trunks of the trees and willed her eyes to become used to the darkness, she could hear the sound of aircraft flying in from Veece’s allies. Felitians to the rescue, flying from all cities around Tyhera in order to save the capital. Marian thought about this and realized that they were in luck. With the distraction of the battle going on in Veece, most other cities would be open for the resistance to move on to with very little interference.

She began to make out the trees and the bushes a little better as her eyes adjusted to the dark. In time she was pushing easily through the forest, moving up the hilly countryside away from the city. She tried to keep her wits about her and not to become upset at the loss of life happening in her old home. She pulled out her carf knife and held it near her chin, focusing on the ‘now’ as she walked.

The forest was reputed to be wild despite its close proximity to the city, and if a rock cat was to jump out at her, she wanted to be ready to defend herself. It was uncharacteristically quiet as she moved along. There were no frogs singing mating songs, no intimidating growls, and no wind brushing through the branches audibly.

Marian moved into a clearing after some time had passed and backed up against the trees when she saw that she would be fully exposed if she walked across it. She stuck to the tree line and called up Rafian, hoping he would be alone and her call wouldn’t be a source of entertainment for his fellow rebels.

“Rafian, where are you?” she asked as soon as he was there.

“Waiting for you in one of the buildings – here in Cally. It’s actually pretty well preserved. Do you have an estimate on when you’ll get to us? Our friends are getting anxious, and I’m not sure this is the best place for us to be,” he said.

Marian heard a woman giggle in the background and she looked to the sky as if trying to determine the time. It was very late, and memories of past infidelities by her husband brought about an uneasy feeling in her gut which she then translated into anger.

“A little late for company don’t you think, husband?” she said and when he laughed at her tone, it only served to anger her more.

“He laughs, he thinks it’s funny,” she said.

“No, no, I don’t think it’s funny, Rhee. It’s just that … look, I know I haven’t been the best husband, but we talked about trust the other night and everything I said to you was true. I’m through with the games and running around like a new recruit with an agenda. I’m here with the lovely Jelline,” he said, and a sultry voice in the background confirmed it. “I’m also here with Delyi, who we’ve just found out is a Primian princess!” A softer voice in the background made a bashful grunt, but it did nothing to calm Marian’s temper.

“These girls played a major role in you being able to rid Luca of Palus, Marian. For instance, if it hadn’t been for Delyi, Marika would not have been able to get into the prison to rescue Blu. Delyi helped her to get with a key member of the troops that provided intel, and she also helped our girl to escape the city,” he said. “We’re here toasting to your success; well not only your success but to theirs, as well. They did a lot to get us to the places where we needed to be in order for this to happen,” Rafian said.

Marian exhaled and spoke. “Well, tell them I send my sincerest thanks, Rafian, and I would love to raise a glass with you all whenever I get there. For the record, I do believe you and everything you said, but I know that when it comes to women, especially beautiful women, you can make some poor choices sometimes. So, bear with me as I work on trusting you, but you’ve given me years of doubt in that light, so … just understand that it’s going to take some time.”

“I understand, Rhee,” Rafian said. She heard a new noise that sounded as if he’d gotten up, and then there was silence on the comm.

“Rafian?” she said, and he came back on instantly.

“Had to get away from the party a bit to talk to you,” he said. “Where exactly are you?”

“I’m in the forest north of where you guys are located, working my way to you and keeping my knife close in case of anything,” Marian replied.

“When you come up on Cally, just find the old casino. You remember where it’s located, don’t you?” he asked.

“Yes, but barely. I didn’t get much experience in that city, remember? By the time we were living with the resistance, we were forced to stay in the temple since the Fels were bombing Cally so much that it was unwise to try and stay there.”

There was a small brook that split the line of trees as it ran east and west through the hills. Marian glanced up to see if any cruisers were hovering close and when she saw none, she silenced her comm and listened. It was as silent as deep space, so she risked a run and jump maneuver to clear the water. Once she was over and under the cover of the branches, she touched the comm in her ear again and was surprised that Rafian was still talking.

“—you know the fact that we were so young back then, we didn’t know how dangerous life was for us as freedom fighters. Man, did we do some stupid things,” he was saying.

“Oh, stupid things? You mean like eloping as enemies to get married in the middle of a war? Spending our honeymoon on Lochte, an uncivilized planet? Lochte, where the same crazy Ranalos that now burn Veece were born? Yeah, we were stupid alright,” Marian said.

“We were living on the edge, but I cannot recall a night when I had trouble sleeping with you in my arms,” Rafian said.

“Yeah, I remember those days. I remember thinking: this man fears nothing, and we’ve been through so much that it has to be a much bigger plan of the makers that we are still together,” Marian said, smiling.

She crested a hill and could see down past the trees where familiar stone structures appeared like teeth pushing out of an endless clearing. This was what was left of Cally, and Marian found it amazing that the city was built where it was. It had to have taken a lot of time and machinery to clear out the forestry, then additional effort to lay a foundation for the tiny city.

“Hey babe, I’m right outside the city. I see what I think is the casino. Just hold on and I will come and find you guys,” she said into the comm, and quickened her pace to start down the hill.

The crack of a whip brought Marian around as a shadow caught her and pulled her in. It happened so fast that she couldn’t think or react. The coils of the whip trapped her arms to her side painfully, and as the surprise faded, she looked at who it was that had struck her.

The woman’s skin was alabaster, and she had dark stains around her eyes that gave her face the look of a skull. Around her neck were the black feathers of the predatory birds that frequented the area, and as the woman pulled her in, she could smell the sickly sweet smell of rotten flesh.

The creature put something on her wrist that acted like a stasis cuff. Marian could not move her arms and as she turned around to look at her attacker, she threw her right leg up into a roundhouse, catching her on the underside of her jaw.

Black and yellow teeth flew from the mouth of the woman when Marian’s foot connected, and a sickening, bone-crunching sound came from it as her body stiffened and fell to the ground, unconscious.

Two more witches came out of the darkness, each prodding her with rods that sent electricity through her body and forced her to her knees instantly. The 3B suit protected her, but one of the rods caught her exposed neck. The voltage was enough to make her lose her balance, and several of them poured out from behind the trees, each with their own rod to poke at her body.

The rods that actually touched her skin brought about a ticklish, hot, yet painful sensation, and Marian wanted it to stop. She wanted to touch her ear, to let Rafian know that she was in trouble, but her arms couldn’t move and the painful electrocution was never ending.

She felt almost helpless as they pinned her legs down, but something inside of her knew that she was still in the fight.

The first woman stood up, rubbing her sore jaw as she walked over to Marian, and kicked her hard in the abdomen. Marian rolled over, coughing, and cursed her luck for getting so close without remembering Blu’s earlier warning that there were witches around the city.

She closed her eyes and uttered her last rites in preparation for the inevitable. Either the witches would kill her or slowly torture her—which was the same as death, or worse. Thype this, she thought, I won’t die in the dirt, and she sprung up to her feet, then ducked and spun with one leg out, knocking the first witch off her feet.

The stun rods hit her but she ignored the pain and kicked another in the abdomen before following up with a roundhouse, then climbing the woman while using the cuffs to cut off her circulation. More witches appeared, plentiful and angry, like serpents roused from their concealed pit. But there was a new sound, the sound of humming, and they all stopped to see what it was.

All that Marian could make out was blackness, and then a bright white light which she recognized as the hot edge of a las-sword. Next, a figure was swinging arcs everywhere, and the smell of burning flesh caught her nose. The witches screamed and fell under the blade, and two took off running into the woods. The las-sword’s wielder had managed to kill one of them, but three stood firm with their staffs extended, trying to fight back against it.

Marian killed the big witch that she had mounted, and then stepped into a sidekick to stop one of the others from fleeing the sword.

There was a violent swipe that resounded in a thump, and an ear-shattering scream as two of the remaining witches fell down dead. The last witch was brave and charged the shadow, but the white streak danced around multiple times, forming beautiful half circles that resulted in the woman being chopped into three separate parts.

The white light faded to black and Rafian came over to unlock Marian’s cuffs. He leaned in and looked at her, trying to assess the damage, then he kissed her and brushed the leaves from out of her hair.

“Forgot to warn you about the wildlife,” he said calmly.

She hissed her teeth and dusted herself off. “Well,” she said, “Looks like I’ve had the highest moment of my career and now … possibly the lowest. How is a skilled, war-proven Phaser going to be handcuffed by a bunch of savages with sticks? You are not to speak a word of this to anyone, Rafian, or I’ll never forgive you!”

“I won’t say anything, Rhee, but I can’t promise to keep quiet if there’s drinking involved,” he said, laughing loudly. “It’s not like they had you, my lovely hatch kitten. You were already working them out by the time I got here. We just had to – you know, show them our worth. I bet that they won’t be hunting around these parts again for a really long time.”

“Why did you come here, anyway?” Marian said, ignoring his attempts to get her worked up. “I thought you would be waiting for me in the casino.”

“Rhee, seriously? Do you really think I wasn’t going to come out here to retrieve you? When you told me that you were near the city, I came out to find you, but then I saw the witches roaming about. They couldn’t see me, and I stayed low amongst the fallen buildings. Lucky for you that I came along ... who knows what their intent was? From what Blu and Orion have told me, these witches actually eat their enemies.”

Memory 22

“How come you never talk about your sister, Rhee?” Rafian asked Marian, and she spun and stared at him with her mouth quivering as if she fought to keep her words suppressed. “I don’t know if it’s okay to ask you this because I feel like I’m crossing the line, but I would like to know, since it will allow me to understand you more – I think,” he said.

“You can never cross the line, Rafian. You can ask me anything. If I cannot be open with you as your wife, then who can I be open with? I guess it’s kind of good to talk these things, out isn’t it? To not keep them in.”

“That’s what I hear. So, your sister, who was she?” Rafian asked.

“Well, her name was Wharena, and she was beautiful like my mom. I remember her photos and vids the most, since I used to stare at them and try to look like her. You call me beautiful but you should have seen her. Oh, and she was feisty. My father said that they would argue all the time because my sister was so feisty. For a common girl under the old regime, it was a bad thing to be considered spirited, so my parents always worried that she would get herself into trouble. I question the truth of this, though because my parents are the only ones who remember her this way. Maybe she was only feisty with them, but to everyone else she was a sweet, quiet girl.

“One of the things that made everyone like Palus back then was that he was one of the only men to stand up against the Manas. They were a small group, not unlike our resistance, but they had big aspirations. Their leader, Mikah, wanted to take over Tyhera in order to bring in his own regime, but he wasn’t really a good person. When Palus showed up and fought against him, my parents thought he was their savior. Palus started his coup, and my parents helped – they helped a lot actually, and once the gangs were eliminated, Palus didn’t forget their service.

“As a matter of fact, due to my father’s loyalty, Palus told him that I would never ever have to work. I was made into my family’s first royal. A baroness, a privileged brat who never hesitated to remind others of my station.” She sighed with frustration and shook her head, then sat back on the bed so that her back touched the wall as she stared at her husband.

“So, why you and not your sister?” Rafian asked.

“Well, originally I was supposed to be married off to a man named Okov Wilder. My Uncle Okov – which is what I called him, did not agree with Palus’s decree of forced marriage and took me under his wing as a sort of niece or daughter. He was the one that made me into a true baroness, instead of one of his wives.

“As for my sister, she wasn’t even considered. She had taken her own life way before Palus’s army purged the streets. If she had been alive, they would have given her to Uncle Okov, but she was dead, so I was chosen instead.”

“Why would Wharena take her own life?” Rafian asked, leaning in with his arms resting on one of the pillows, his gaze intense.

Marian started talking but she didn’t look at him. “One of Mikah’s main lieutenants came across my sister in the market one day. She had actually gone there to get my dad a gift since they had been arguing and—” Marian, paused as if to collect herself and swallowed hard. She looked up at Rafian with her large, sparkling eyes and he could see that they were filled with tears before she looked away. He reached down and took her hands, then brought them together and kissed them.

Marian took a deep breath and continued. “Wharena worked at the store and since she had said some nasty things to him, she went to purchase a peace offering. But when she was in the streets, Mikah’s gang took notice of her. My mom was the one who told her to do it, to go out there to get that gift. She has not been able to forgive herself since,” Marian said.

“We should go visit them,” Rafian said, but Marian shook her head at him.

“Please respect my wishes to stay away, Raf. Rienne Laren is dead to my parents, and they are dead to me. Anyway, one of the gangsters wanted Wharena, so they went ahead and kidnapped her. Now, my father, who was a very brave man in his own right, went after my sister and took on the gang. They beat him bloody and spared his life only because Wharena begged them to. My father came back home, defeated and humiliated, but what was he to do? Nobody would do anything, not the local magistrate, not the guards. They were allowed to snatch up girls, these filthy bastards, and there was no one there to make them pay, not until Palus Felitious.

“Now, I hadn’t been born yet but I heard about these things as I grew up, mostly in arguments between my mother and father. Then there were the whispers from neighbors who talk, but it came to a point where my parents lost Wharena. She married Mikah – apparently he liked her enough to take her from his man. She swore herself to him and became a member of the gang. My sister at this point had lost the will to live, and had committed her body to the gang, so when the gang members were beheaded for treason, she was one of them. She died with her own twisted sense of honor.

“My parents forbade anyone from talking about Wharena. They wanted her to be forgotten. To be honest, babe, I wish that I had known her. I wish that I knew her so I could see if I am anything like her. I’ve always thought that if it had been me in that situation, I would have done the same thing, especially being the fact that she was only 16.”

“No,” Rafian said. “I know for a fact that you would not have dealt with it the same way your sister did, Marian. Knowing you, there would not have been a surrendering of your neck for that gang. You would have died trying to kill Mikah and the rest of those kidnappers. A Marian, I’m sorry, I mean a Rienne Laren, would have fought tooth and nail before she would let anyone take her away against her own will. Rhee, we can’t begrudge our past too much because without it we wouldn’t be the people that we are,” he said.

“You’re right,” she said and nodded continuously, as if the motion would force her mind to accept it. “Well, this is different,” she teased. “I’m getting counsel from what sounds to be Rafian the Mera Ku monk, and not Rafian, Supreme Leader of the Phasers.”

“I can be wise when I want to be,” Rafian said with a smile.

“I rather like this version of you,” she said. “You know, I came upon one of your temples on my travels here.”

Rafian sat up suddenly and regarded her darkly. “Which temple?” he asked, and she noticed that his tone was no longer playful or endearing, but cold and dangerous.

“It’s the one temple that you probably thought nobody would ever get access to,” she said.

Rafian raised an eyebrow, “Oh really?” he said, still watching her as if hoping she was only joking.

“I think they call it the navel of the gods,” Marian said. “It was deep in an inaccessible valley, north of Apun. I had flown across a body of water to access the Aria Mountains, but it was there. I used a crystal to get down there since I was desperate and needed to find a way to reach the rebels.”

Rafian stood silent for a time and Marian took the opportunity to get up and walk into the kitchen. She opened the old cupboards and poked around until she found a large red jug. She opened and did a celebratory dance after sniffing it. She brought out two teacups and poured wine into them, then walked back over to the bed. She placed the jug on the ground and handed one of the cups to Rafian.

Rafian was thinking of his time in the temple that Marian had visited. The pilgrimage that he and the other monks took to reach it would take them several long days. The first time he had gone, it was with Lucci, back when he was only a swordsman in training. He had to lie to his friends that he was on a mission, and it had taken them over a month to reach it.

He had undergone the trials there, broke his mind as they would say, and emerged from the temple a master, a brother of the Mera Ku, and a deadly weapon against the Felitians.

To get to the temple, one would have to go through a series of hidden caves, riddled with predators, deep blackness, and bottomless pits. Everything that Rafian was had come from that temple: it was built to only be accessed by his brothers, so hearing of Marian violating its grounds gave him mixed feelings.

It was there that he mastered meditation. It was there that he mastered the sword. And it was there that he had gotten the power that would allow him to defeat Arn Stryker, the then leader of the Jumpers, an organization that he usurped and later renamed as the Phasers.

Marian sat next to him and held his hand as she inhaled the sour aroma. She let it clear her mind from the stress of her sister’s remembrance.

“I don’t know what that temple did to me, Rafian, but something happened as I examined the artifacts and poked around, trying to find out more about you. I remember chairs, lots of chairs, one of which I sat in and received some of your memories.” She then noticed that Rafian seemed tense and concerned with her story, and though he sipped at his wine infrequently, his mind was not there in its entirety.

Something about the temple had caused him to become uneasy. He finished the wine and placed it down on the stone floor. Marian leaned in so that he had to look at her and asked, “Who was Iharia?”

Rafian looked as if his greatest fear had been realized and he placed his head inside of his hands and rubbed it. When he had done this for a time, he sat back up, and then looked at Marian with eyes that were both sad and filled with regret.

“Part of being a Mera Ku monk is an extremely painful process that we are made to suppress,” he said. “We take apprentices…well, we took apprentices back then, but not all who trained were worthy to become masters and transcend. Iharia was in love with me, and I didn’t know this at the time because – well, you know how I was back then. I was completely devoted to the cause, and I accepted no distractions. Part of me knew that she liked me, but I kept it professional between us. She must have thought that this was how I was with everyone, so she kept on trying. I ignored her, and then I met you.

“You managed to get past my iron exterior to find my heart. You set yourself apart to me as something more important than saving this thyping world. Iharia couldn’t handle that, so she took her own life. It angered me, and I was sad that I lost a student I had been training for over a year. She was a good friend. Iharia lent ear to many of my problems, especially since I had no memory of my past back then. She meant a lot to me, but a Mera Ku monk is meant to be stronger mentally than normal people. For her to give up her life force because of an aching heart was beyond disappointing. I thought I’d taught her to be stronger than that.

“I never told you this, but I was hurting, Rhee. I was hurting the night when I slept next to you and woke up and found my true memories. I was hurting a lot, so when opportunity gave me a chance to leave this world and make it possible to consider all of this a dream, I leaped at it. I got us out of here as quickly as possible. When you asked me to come back here to Luca, to check in on friends and loved ones, all I could see was Iharia’s face, and the disappointment in her eyes when she leaped from that precipice and fell broken to the arena.

“It was selfish of me, and I am sorry, Rhee.” Rafian said.

Marian finished her wine, collected the cups and jug, and then walked back into the kitchen where she set them down inside the sink.

“I wonder why it was that I was able to receive your thoughts and no one else’s,” Marian said.

“The way of the Mera Ku is mysterious, Marian. Everything cannot be explained through technology or by conventional means, unfortunately. There is an energy here, a life force that isn’t easily explained by any of us. What we did in those days was to learn how to open our minds and bodies to it. To let it heal us and preserve us. For anyone who would bring our loved ones harm, we learned how to manipulate it to allow us to hurt them. My sword sent home so many souls of the Felitians and it makes no sense how much power we Mera Ku have. The same goes for my master, Lucci. He took out whole armies on the plains of Talula.

“What we had down there in that temple was a school for the galaxy’s elite order of Mera Ku monks. I dare not divulge everything that we did down there since much of it was appalling. It would devastate you to know what your darling husband has done to gain his power. But, we aimed to set things right here in Luca. This is why we did it. We were going to be the ones to remove the Felitians, and we were going to be the ones to amass the troops to do it. Lucci and I started doing that here on Tyhera, but we had an infiltrator,” Rafian said and sat without talking for such a long time that Marian wondered if he would finish. He seemed tired and she reached up and rubbed his bald head.

“Beloved masters fell to this man and I lost a brother. So we hunted this individual down in the palace of Veece, and took back everything from him,” Rafian said.

Marian was confused. “What do you mean everything? What did he have?”

“We took back the training, we took back our love, and … we took back the life force from him,” Rafian replied.

“Seems like we both have a lot of painful memories here, huh?” Marian said.

He looked at her and smiled. “Lots of sweet memories, too, Rhee, not just negative. You received my memory because of our link. It may seem trivial that the rings we wear and the love we feel are personal, but a bigger, much greater energy knows. You are my wife, the woman that I am meant to be with – forever. So my thoughts were the ones that would find you. Had you been a stranger to the Mera Ku fellowship, that chair would have killed you instantly,” Rafian said as he regarded Marian.

“Wow, well, I guess it’s a good thing that you love me, huh?” Marian teased and stuck her tongue out and Rafian tackled her onto the mattress, happy to end their somber talk.

The wine was strong and they ceased talking in lieu of more delicate methods of communication. It began with deep kisses and caresses that forced them to lay next to one another on the bed. Talula drifted to its highest point as the resistance vanguard spoke at length around a campfire built in what used to be the lobby of Cally’s casino. In the upper rooms of the building, where only a few bedrooms remained intact, a former elite of the Felitian Empire and a Mera Ku monk drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms.

About The Author

GREG DRAGON has been a creative writer for several years and has authored on topics of relationship, finance, physical fitness and more through different sources of media. In particular, his online magazine has been a source of much pragmatic information, which has been helpful to many. As a result, his work continues to grow with a large and loyal fan base.

This Florida author brings exciting action and drama to his written work. His storylines keep readers engaged with characters that come to life from the beautiful celestial scenes of science fiction, to the gritty world of urban drama.

See Greg’s author page at gregdragon.com or keep up with his latest books and appearances through email.

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Chart of Memories

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