Following
Sage cedorsett
Charlie Dorsett

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Chapter 1 Chapter 2

In the world of Barrens' End

Visit Barrens' End

Ongoing 2739 Words

Chapter 1

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The dark edges of hyperspace twisted space into an ever-shifting kaleidoscope of luminous patterns. Those gifted to read the weave of fate saw portents and omens in the lines and shapes warped through higher dimensional space.

A void ripped open in the tapestry as the jump gate on the other side poked through to guide ships in and out of the space in between.

Light flashed from the leading blunt end of the wedge-shaped frigate as it passed through the fold into normal space over the gold, green, and blue planet of Ouhiri.

Flames kissed the belly of ship as the blunt end of the wedge entered the atmosphere. Slowing down, the ship glided over the sea toward the largest continent on the remote world.

A crystal blue drone glided away from the 5ALT13 TITAN before the ship reached the land. The city of Khepra sprawled along the coast around the ancient pyramid in the center.

Like a cold metal ray, the ship blended into the cerulean sky as it made its way to its berth in the local caravansary.

The cockpit windows tinted black to blot out the glare of the sun and the sky. Only the illuminated panels shared any light within, casting a burnished orange glow onto Noel's pale skin.

Gloom joined them on most of their recent missions. Noel cursed the display.

"I am not a bounty hunter," Noel spat the words like bitter seeds from their mouth.

"Our recent missions counter-indicate that statement," the tinny voice of their AI Areten said over the comms.

"Aren't you supposed to be flying the probe?" Noel smirked.

"Scanners are active, and you started talking to me."

"I know." Noel stretched in their chair squeezing the travel stiffness from their joints. "Feyd Gryth never would have sent me out on a mission like this. Hells, he wouldn't have sent me on our last dozen missions. He taught me the Ayzen seek power, not chatchkes and nobodies from around the galaxy. This is a joke."

"Perhaps I need to refresh my understanding of humor." Areten said. "I don't see how all your complaints are funny. You are Feyd Caer, a dark adept in one of the most feared orders in the galaxy. The Ayzen all but control the Shinari Republic through the Jalrec Trust. Your title alone grants you power and the respect you crave, and when it doesn't, it instills enough terror for people to keep from stepping out of line. I need to focus on the scans. Be strong."

The comms clicked as the channel closed.

Noel leaned back in their chair. If they meditated, even for just a moment, they would clear their mind. They didn't want that clarity.

Since Gryth -- died, they were little more than an enforcer for the Trust. As long as they cultivated their power and gained access to the Erim secrets the Ayzen guarded so closely, they didn’t care, but lately, Feyd Mhalra had become erratic. He sent them out, seemingly at random, to perform such meaningless tasks.

What was he planning? Of course, he didn’t share the grand design with Noel, but each task was more random and meaningless than the one before it. To make matters worse, he had offered no new trainings.

Noel suspected their master was afraid of them. They weren’t strong enough to overthrow him, or even to usurp him in the hierarchy, but Mhalra must have feared they were close. Why else would he hold so much back?

There was another possibility. Most despised humans, or at the very least looked down on them. The avarice of Salavar enslaved them and scattered among the stars. Since they only freed themselves from slavery a century or so ago, they were an unknown people who lost their home world. They were seen as an uncivilized species from a backwater world carted off into the galaxy because a freak accident seeded their home world with Hyperion, the precious plant that fueled most of the hyperdrives in the galaxy.

Humans were so bereft of hope, none of them even knew where their ancestral home world was anymore, and none cared to even search for it.

As a Stygian, Noel bore an additional stigma. Their people found a dead world they named Stygia and moved into the cities left behind by whatever calamity killed off the civilization that built them. They were seen as scavengers, little better than rodents, opportunists that stole whatever they could get their hands on.

Noel wasn’t a scavenger.

They were Ayzen, and the Ayzen were strong. They outlived the other Erim sects and the A-ra din from whom they broke in ages past. Even when the A-ra din persecution was at its peak right after the Dark Nova, the Ayzen grew more powerful and never fell under the umbrella of Uru-gal sects did. 

Noel loved the hunt. What better way to practice their abilities and test themselves and their abilities in the real world, but the moments before the hunt stretched out into painful hours of anxiety. If they failed the hunt, what would that say about them and their abilities? How would Feyd Mhalra react? His disapproval was dangerous.

The problem with this hunt was Mhalra gave them nothing to go on. Only the name of their target, planet they might be on, and rough location to start the search. Without knowing why the Feyd wanted her brought in, how could they prepare properly for the hunt?

They would catch her and bring her in. They had no other choice. Mhalra would punish them for failure and depending on how important Lilibet was to them, it might even cost them their life.

Noel sighed in unison with the engines as they locked the ship down so no one could steal their home while they were out on the hunt. Their stomach twisted in knots. No matter how many times they pursued a target, the start of the hunt always brought its own troubles.

Swiveling around to the comms station, they pulled up the report on their target, Lilibet Stormdancer. They smiled at the name. Had she chosen it or inherited it? Since the errant star hit and their people were carried away from the Earth that was, many chose their own names since their lineage was lost to the years of bondage.

Fox was the only link they had to their former family. Stormdancer rang of chosenness. They question is, who picked it. They found no others on record, so it must have been Lilibet.

Does that mean she is a thrill seeker or someone riddled with anxiety? It could go either way.

It was sad the only interesting thing about Lilibet was her name. She wasn’t remarkable in any other way. Her parents, like theirs, died when she was a child, possibly shortly after her birth. Noel couldn't even find her parents, only records claiming her as an orphan. She grew up on Ouhiri just outside the trade port of Khepra. Nothing stood out.

As far as Noel and their AI companion, Areten, found; she never ran afoul of the law even once and had no debt on record. She was a nobody who somehow garnered the attention of Feyd Mhalra.

It wasn’t Noel’s job to understand why they were sent to collect people. They simply did as their master demanded, but it helped to know something about the target.

Just because the target doesn’t have a violent record doesn’t mean they aren’t dangerous. She might be good at keeping off the radar of the powers that be. Well, not good enough, or Mhalra wouldn’t have ordered them to bring her in.

Noel stood and stretched the long hyperspace journey from their arms and legs. Answers wouldn't come from wishing for them. The hunt had to begin and now was as good a time as any.

They left the cockpit and walked across the ship’s common room to their quarters in the back.

As they equipped their armor, they relished how it bulked up their slight build to make them appear more imposing. The pauldrons and chest plate broadened their shoulders and gave them the facade of muscles. Their boots increased their height. They were already tall, but the additional centimeters accentuated it.

Securing a cape over their armor, obscured it from the casual observer and filled out their bulk so their weight looked more substantial.

Their short black hair pressed into their scalp as they donned their helmet. Finally, they snapped the face plate into place over their delicate, pale face, obscuring their dark eyes from the outside world. As the heads up display flickered to life, they smiled. With no skin showing, they could be any of a hundred bipedal species and they wouldn’t have to deal with the prejudice against them as a human, much less as a Stygian.

After concealing a cadre of weapons in their armor, they left the ship.

♦♦♦

The streets of Khepra weren’t all that different from any of the other march worlds wondering through the barrens between the galactic arms. Aged stone patched with whatever materials they had on hand at the covered the roads and the walls of the once great city. Hawkers lined the alley outside the port. Merchants and traders from all over the galaxy milled through the stalls.

From the luminous blue skinned Raewyn brave enough to show their face to the Centipede-like Mur scurrying about their daily business. Species of every description coursed through the streets with the slight urgence of someone not wanting to be caught.

Noel checked the readouts Areten sent from the drone. No hits yet on either the facial recognition or scanners.

Ouhiri was in the march between the Shinari Republic and the Tawghrul Empire, but neither patrolled the territory, leaving those duties to the local regime which functioned more as a protection racket than a government. If this extraction was going to be successful, they would have to pay their respects to Doyen Thorhan Brerk.

Truly there was nothing more glamorous than groveling to petty bureaucrats in order to prevent them from interfering in the work at hand. Mhalra provided a stipend for bribing the locals, but the performance never sat right with them.

In a large, open square, an enormous, ornamented plaza that must have been a remnant of the old Thalassan empire stood out in contrast to the shabby constructions around it. The colossal, split-tipped pyramid in the center glimmered in the sunlight. The polished mahogany obsidian walls resembled a cultivated tangle of vines encased in glass.

Noel sighed, then forced a smile across their face even though no one could see it. A brief discomfort was a small price to pay to proceed with the hunt and conclude their business here.

They entered the pyramid, surprised they hadn’t rigged weapon’s detectors to the entrance, but quickly understood why.

Several dozen armed and armored members of the local militia milled around the lobby watching everyone who came and went. The oversized swords and axes on their backs were impractically placed for fighting, but attracted their attention. They each carried a rifle in their arms.

Noel marched over to the reception desk and nodded to the pastel pink skinned Saat read something on her tablet while mindlessly fiddling the bangles hanging down from the bands around her head tentacles sprouting off the back of her head down past her shoulders.

They braced themself to use the name name Mhalra gave them. “Feyd Caer to see the Doyen on behalf of the Jalrec Trust.”

Noel suppressed a shiver. They weren’t a member of the Erim cult running the Trust, even though they worked for them often. No order earned their loyalty. All their sadarin spent the same. Each offered a different set of practices helping them to cultivate their core.

The Saat woman glanced up at them and huffed. “The Doyen is very busy, you should make an appointment.”

“I think you will find my business to be brief and profitable.”

She studied them for a second before rolling her eyes. “If you have a delivery from the Trust, just leave it on the desk and I will deliver it when the Doyen is free.”

Noel sneered under the mask and relished how she couldn’t see. Very politely they said, “The Jalrec Trust would appreciate the Doyen times if I could but see them.”

Did she not understand what they were saying? The Jalrec Trust was the most powerful corporation in the Shinari Republic and it was no secret they controlled the government. It was always public secret that the Ayzen controlled the Trust.

The Ayzen sect once governed their own empire in the region before choosing to govern from the shadows rather than through direct rule. Once the title of Feyd struck fear into the hearts of millions.

This Saat women couldn’t care less.

Noel sensed the field of energy between them and reached out from their core as they said, “You will take me to the Doyen.”

They smiled as they felt her will break like a dry twig under foot.

She stood up and nodded absently. “Follow me.”

The Saat woman led them to a side door where she entered an access code before ushering them into the secure suites in the pyramid.

Noel hated bending people to their will with anything other than their words. Every time they resorted to fascination, they admitted failing to persuade their target. It wasn’t so much a power as it was s crutch they fell back on when their talent was ineffective.

After climbing numerous flights of stairs, they walked down the final corridor to the Doyen’s office.

The Saat woman opened the door and presented them to the elderly, diminutive Hesguin who wore what resembled a triple crown on the prominent conical horn on her charcoal snout. Her small ears pressed back against her wedgeshaped head.

“I told you not to disturb me.” She glowered as she quickly closed screens on her computer.

“Apologies, Doyen Brerk,” Noel bowed with a flourish, “I will not take much of your time.”

Brerk waved the Saat woman out of her office and motioned for Noel to approach her desk.

Noel walked forward and puffed their chest out. “I am here on behalf of the Jalrec Trust to procure someone from your territory and wish to show you our gratitude for your indulgence.”

Brerk cocked a thick haired eyebrow. “You’re here to abduct one of our citizens and you want me to what? Look the other way? Keep the patrols from coming after you? You can’t expect me to just let you get away with something like that, can you?”

“I assure you, the Trust will more than fairly compensate you for any inconvenience.”

A strange, crooked smile twister Brerk’s face and her eyes relaxed with a knowing cunning announcing her intention to trap Noel.

They could kill her easily and probably get out of the building before anyone even noticed, but it was too early to resort to such measures.

“So Feyd Caer, you could always help me with a problem, then I will help you procure this target.”

Noel fought off the urge to laugh.

The Doyen’s lack of subtlety and subterfuge was refreshing.

She leaned back in her chair, “I have a thorn in my foot, and you should be able to rid me of it. There is an Ur-san named Nur Sujinn in the area. She has been here for too long and we have been unable to catch or kill her. I understand that there is some animosity between your sect and hers. I can give you everything we have on this troublemaker. You get rid of her, and we will give you whatever you want.”

It was a well constructed trap.

The Ur-san and the many Erim sects have always opposed each other, but Noel didn’t care about the historical conflict. They’d never met an Ur-san and had not suffered by their hand. In fact, they thought the Ur-san were extinct, and never imagined being able to test their mettle against such an ancient and legendary foe.

Such a duel would prove to them that all their sacrifice and effort wasn’t for nothing. The trap seduced them to follow down the dark alley away from their immediate mission.

Feyd Mhalra would understand the diversion if they killed an Ur-san.

“Agreed.”


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