Emergence: Chapter 43

Kivina assured Tors and Cane that the silver device in her ear was broken, and lost its connection with whatever transmitted the signal sometimes, before Cane could remove it. The device took over again at one point, leading to two Scalimen deaths, which she seemed greatly remorseful for. Later on, however, she had brought Cane, who had extended medical training, a pair of tweezers, a scalpel and some stitches. When she did so, he gave her a strange look.

“Stitches and a scalpel? Bit much?”

Kivina shook her head. “I dunno how deep it is. I dunno how Xaos got it in there in the first place. I tried to pull it out before, but it wouldn't come out.”

Tors glanced at Cane, who shrugged. “Could very well be attached to part of your brain.” Cane said softly. “I have medical training, but I'm no brain surgeon.”

She grabbed his hand. “Please. It's for your sake too.”

Tors nodded. “It is. I'll help you out Cane.”

“I will too.” Pandora chipped in. “We patched your knee up together, we can do this too.”

Cane chuckled. “Not exactly the same thing, but I would appreciate the help. Thanks guys.”

Kivina drank a thick purple liquid and struggled to swallow. “The anaesthetic will kick in soon. Please give it about five minutes before you start hacking away.”

As her eyes closed, Tors turned to Cane. “Can we do this?”

Cane sighed. “I have no idea what we're dealing with.” He shook his head. “If we can't, we'll probably kill her. Which means that they'll kill us.”

“If we can help her, she might be able to help us escape.” Tors remembered the cold night before. “We can't stay here much longer.”

“No, we can't.” Pandora chipped in. “We need to do this, one way or the other.”

Cane hesitated, before nodding. Tors could see the fear on his face, the nerves. “Alright, we'll do it.”

Kivina was definitely out cold; Cane's punch to the arm proved that much. After ordering the unusually-silent Emola to stand as a look-out, he grabbed the tweezers, asking Tors to pull her hair out of the way. Tors obliged, and finally got a proper look at the device; like a silver egg. The tweezers, magnetised, gripped onto the device and held it tight. Cane grunted as he tried to pull the device out, but there was no moving it. “Damn...”

“Pandora,” Tors had an idea, “Can you weave your hair into there and get an idea of what we're looking at?”

Pandora seemed to consider it, before agreeing. Placing her head next to Kivina's, she let her hair flow free into Kivina's ear. She squirmed for a while, evidently feeling around inside, before her hair retracted and she could get up. “That's lodged in there well; there's some sort of connector leading from the egg into the eardrum, probably continuing through the ear's structure and latching onto the cochlear nerve; if we can remove the egg portion, it stands to reason that it should cut off the connection to Xaos.”

Cane nodded. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” He gestured to Tors. “Hold the tweezers, and pull when I say.”

Tors did so, and pulled slightly on them; they didn't budge, being attached to the immovable device.

“Pandora,” Cane turned to her now, “When I say, use your hair to inch veins and arteries shut; if I can do this quickly, she should be fine.” Pandora nodded and sat next to Kivina again.

They all started breathing deep as Cane placed the scalpel on the back of her ear and made the first incision. A trickle of dark blood immediately appeared, oozing out of the cut. He forced the scalpel down further, and Pandora began to plug the leaking veins. Cane moved the ear, and asked Tors to hold onto it with his spare hand. Tors did so; it felt cold and clammy. He could see down the ear canal now, thanks to the extra hole Cane had opened.

Cane moved in further, cutting at the cartilage around the ear canal, giving him more space around the sides of the device. “If I can get in far enough to cut the connector, that'd be great, but I don't see that being easy.”

“You can do it, buddy.” Tors said, smiling a fake smile; he had no idea how this was going to play out.

Cane nodded in appreciation at Tors, before having a look inside Kivina's ear again. “Tors, give it a tug.”

Tors did so, pulling until his muscles strained, and he felt something give way. “It feels looser now.”

“Guys.” Emola called. “Xaosians coming.”

Tors looked at the mess that was on the floor. “Shit!” Heart pounding, he looked at the others; Kivina's prone body, Pandora, with her hair wrapped into Kivina, and Cane, hands covered in blood. “Alright...Cane, hands in pockets. Pandora, lie on top of Kivina: pretend to be asleep. Emola, move away from the door and grab a blanket, chuck it over Pandora, then sit with me. You too Cane, come on.”

They sat around together in their small hut, heads down. “So,” Tors glanced at the door; they had to make it seem natural. “You remember Naarl?”

“Oh yeah, he was cool.” Emola faked emotion there; Tors knew that he'd cared about Naarl, but it didn't seem like the place for emotions.

“Who was Naarl?” Cane asked.

“Some old guy across the street,” Tors glanced at the door; Xaosian shadows could be seen moving towards them. “He taught Pandora some of the history of the planet.” A Xaosian looked in, surveyed the area, and moved on, satisfied. “Keep talking keep talking. Emola check.”

Emola got up quietly, and wandered over to the doorway. “Nah, they're gone. Long gone now.”

Pandora threw the blanket off herself. “Finally; you have no idea how weird that was.”

Cane rubbed his hands on Kivina's clothes. “Let's finish this crap.”

Tors went over, holding the ear, which was colder than before. Cane went in, chipping the device with his scalpel as he did so. “Pull more.” Cane grunted to Tors.

Tors obliged, grimacing as he pulled as hard as he could.

“I can see the connector you said about,” Cane nodded to Pandora, “Should be a simple cut...”

Tors watched him use the scalpel like a saw until, eventually, the device came loose and Tors Jolted backwards as it came out. He let Cane and Pandora do the closing of the wounds; he wasn't needed, and he had no clue what to do. Instead, he looked at this egg-shaped device and watched sparks emit from the frayed end where the connector was. To him, as he turned it over in his hands, it felt light and in a sealed unit; obviously mass produced.

“Do you think all of the Xaosians have this in their ear?” Tors asked Emola, who had moved away from the doorway.

Emola nodded. “Most of them, anyway. I doubt all of soldiers do; I know one of them patrolling here doesn't.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he doesn't wear his helmet and his hair's all clipped back, so you'd be able to see. You can usually see them, I find.” Emola seemed too knowledgeable on the subject. His mood changed as he remembered something. “In fact, I heard one of them say they've got a large of inhibitors tomorrow; do you think that's what these are?”

Tors felt a pang of dread. “Almost certainly. We need to wake Kivina up and get out of here. Sooner rather than later.”

Emergence: Chapter 42

Adjeti?

While Cinradahs could agree that the beings that had saved New Orbus certainly looked like old sketches of the long-dead race, he had a hard time believing that there were any left in the Empire. Oblivion was a dead world; he had never been there himself, but the pictures showed a world that could never have been lived on. Maybe a few had survived, but this was not just a small colony; this was a full military operation.

Cinradahs watched as one of the beings, slightly larger than the others, and with gold markings on its armour, came over to him. “Are you in charge here?” It asked forcefully.

Standing up, Cinradahs began to notice how bad his shoulder was again. “I suppose so, yes. Who's asking?”

Cinradahs noticed a flare of annoyance in the thing's eyes. Then, its armour seemed to peel back off of the thing's red skin, before reaching the centre of its chest, disappearing entirely. Underneath was just some casual clothes, made from a gold-dyed leather. “My name is Keinam. Warchief Keinam, one of the rulers of the Adjeti race.” Keinam cocked his head. “You are sceptical of my claim.”

Cinradahs made a noise of exasperation. “Well, obviously; your world is dead, and your race with it.”

Keinam moved closer to Cinradahs. “Look around; do we look dead to you? Look at our ships. Do they look like they were made on a dead world by a dead race? No. Our world is just as alive as it was before the World-Burner was built.”

Cinradahs shook his head. “I've seen pictures of Oblivion; it's a lifeless husk. If that was how it was in its most prosperous years, then the Adjeti weren't exactly what they were built up to be.”

Keinam took a deep breath. “You don't know how much I want to kill you all and take our Empire back. The rest of the Empire – Our Empire! – sentenced us to death. You would be nothing without us.”

“Your kind destroyed this world, what did you expect?” A line of people began to gather nearby; close enough to hear, but far enough away to not get caught up in any fight that might arise.

“Our weapon destroyed this world, but we did not fire it.” Keinam was quiet, as if he was playing his trump card. Cinradahs stepped back, suspicious. “And we can prove that it was the Pyrkagia.”

Gasps echoed around the line, and Cinradahs recoiled in shock. While he didn't quite believe it, he could understand it; the Pyrkagia had been enemies with both the Adjeti and their Orban allies since they encountered one another, and, from what he had read, the Primary at the time pushed for the World-Burner to be used on Oblivion; what a way to dispose of two races they despised. Why had no-one seen this?

“Yes, the Orbans had wanted to stop fighting the Pyrkagia. Yes, the Adjeti were annoyed. But we would not have fired on them; it was purely defensive against any hostile beings entering our Empire from beyond the stars.” Keinam glanced around, as if looking for something. “Ha'kuun. Come here.”

A black humanoid walked over. With a smaller body and longer limbs, this thing looked truly alien even before Cinradahs saw its single eye. “What the hell is that?” He muttered.

Keinam shot him a disgusted look. “Show some respect.” He turned to look at the hideous creature.

The thing bowed in front of the two leaders. “Human leader. Keinam.” It returned to a standing position as Cinradahs touched his temple; it sounded like the voice was in his head.

“It's ok.” Keinam muttered. “That's how Orbans speak; through your head.”

“My name is Ha'kuun.” The line of people nearby could obviously hear him now. “And I am one of the last Orbans.”

Cinradahs knew that he should have been as shocked as the crowd, but he just wasn't; evidently, his reactions had been blunted. “Orbans?” Cinradahs asked. “You didn't die out?”

“Not all of us. There are seven of us left.” Cinradahs raised an eyebrow at Ha'kuun's optimistic approach. “Thanks to the Pyrkagia.” The voice in Cinradahs's head seemed to somehow curdle. “We will kill them. Destroy them as they destroyed us.”

Cinradahs nodded, dazed. “Yes.” He turned to Keinam. “How did Oblivion survive?”

Keinam called to another Adjeti. “Otor!”

Another Adjeti came forward, covered in scar tissue and bruises. Cinradahs couldn't help but feel pity for him; he looked like he'd been tortured.

Otor nodded at Cinradahs and Ha'kuun. “Oblivion survived thanks to me and Keinam. We got wind of the plan to destroy our world, but we also worked out that you had only one way to do so; firing the World-Burner's laser through the Oblivion Gateway. We didn't have much time, so all we could do was simply change the gateway's coordinates, meaning it led from this Empire, to some dead world we'd found centuries before. Unfortunately, the gateway was built from this side, meaning that we neglected to put the controls on both sides; the Adjeti had no way back when the coordinates changed.” Otor cleared his throat. “I ended up on Xaos, stranded and unable to leave. Until I was captured, tortured, and forced to make an “Earth-Scorcher” for their army.” Cinradahs couldn't help feeling sorry for him. “Eventually, I convinced him that my world was alive and we would join his army. He allowed me to go to the Gateway, and I changed the coordinates back, forming the link to Oblivion once more.”

Cinradahs nodded. “Actually a brilliant plan.” He meant that genuinely. Then something occurred to him. “You built the Earth-Scorcher?”

Otor knelt down in front of Cinradahs, head down. “There is nothing I can do but apologise and hope you all forgive me.” Otor paused. “They tortured me, threatened to kill me; I had to survive to bring everyone back!” He finished in a small voice. “I never thought they'd use it.”

“What is the Earth-Scorcher?” Keinam asked.

“A weapon similar to the World-Burner, but smaller in scale.” Otor muttered.

“The Xaosians used it on Raan.” Cinradahs said, before remembering what Xaos had said. “He said that he need to kill the humans to unleash the-”

“Corlens.” Keinam nodded. “Much more powerful than your primitive race.” Cinradahs's face twisted into what he knew was annoyance, and Keinam smiled to see the expression. “The Xaosians will pay even more now. Maybe we'll exterminate them.”

Cinradahs looked at Keinam with wide eyes. “Exterminate them? No! You punish those who need punishing, no more.”

Keinam closed the distance between them with a single step. “Did anyone give my race that mercy? No thought besides extermination. While I'm glad you evolved from your aggressive natures, I hadn't expected you to become so naïve to your former mistakes.”

Cinradahs stepped back. “You know I had no part in your punishment; don't take it out on the entire human race.”

Keinam faltered. “I guess you're right.”

“I don't blame you for being bitter though.” Cinradahs massaged his shoulder; it hurt like a bitch.

It looked like Keinam was going to retort, but he calmed himself. “I have a deal for you: we will help you defeat the Xaosians in war – no extermination – if we can wreak our revenge on the Pyrkagia.”

Cinradahs sighed; he was in charge, it was all on him. Again. He felt he made the right decision before, and there was no way he could defeat the Xaosians without them. “Your revenge on the Pyrkagia?”

“I won't exterminate them, if that's what you want to hear. I will defeat them.” Keinam's tone seemed suspicious, but Cinradahs ignored it. “Get up Otor.”

Otor stood, head still bowed.

Cinradahs looked at the pathetic Adjeti, and then at Keinam, before extending a hand. “Allies?” He asked.

Keinam smiled, and took his head. “You're not bad... for a human. Allies.”

They shook, and then broke apart.

“First thing's first.” Keinam's tone was more authoritative now. “We should check out the Raanian situation; Corlens are dangerous creatures if disturbed. Undisturbed, they're quite docile, but I imagine that the earthquake probably riled them up.”

Cinradahs nodded. “Let's get the injured patched up before we go.”

Keinam nodded, leading Ha'kuun and his Adjeti away. “We'll be waiting by our ships.”

Saiun jogged over to Cinradahs. “You ok?” He put his hand on Cinradahs's wound and called for a doctor. One stepped forward and began to get to work on Cinradahs's shoulder.

“I'm fine.” Cinradahs grabbed Saiun's hand and squeezed it gently. “I'm fine.”

Emergence: Chapter 41

The skies of Oblivion were a pale blue, with not a cloud in the sky. Aeros zipped about above the streets of Tiyunso, the Adjeti city most associated with Oblivion's history. Usually, it would be the capital of the planet which would be the most historic, but Oblivion's capital has changed many times over the centuries. No-one had told Guran why exactly, but he assumed that it was something to do with population shifts; as one place becomes popular, people flock to it like moths to a flame. In order to keep up, the centre of operations on Oblivion would move to these areas, establishing its control over the new capital.

What Guran was also surprised by was the number of non-Adjeti living on Oblivion. As a human family walked past, he noticed most Adjeti getting on with their business. Guran found this odd until he asked his Adjeti guide, Finoh, why they accepted them while hating much of the Empire.

“Because they stayed.” Finoh responded with a tone beyond his years. “They stayed when everyone else turned against us, and we thank them for it. Many of them were slaughtered here, but the hate groups were shut down and dealt with accordingly. They are not just allies of the Adjeti, they are Adjeti now. They act like us, think like us, and live among us. There are others, former migrants from all corners of the Empire, even some Xaosians like yourself. Not many, but there are some.”

“Never would have known there was so many.” Guran was in awe of this; a while ago, he hadn't believed Oblivion was still flourishing and alive, and he still couldn't quite believe it. Now, the revelation that Oblivion was multi-cultural, as opposed to the purely Adjeti haven it was purported to be.

“There are some villages comprised fully of immigrants, choosing to live away from us. We send them food and materials they need.” Finoh frowned. “Keinam may say that he hates humans, but he has lived among these for so long, he's forgotten that they are human. He thinks of humans as the heartless bastards who helped to damn our world; they didn't speak out, and they helped the Pyrkagia take control of the World-Burner. He hates the Empire, and almost everything in it. Otor seems to have softened against humans, but hardened against Xaosians...except you.”

“Dunno why.” Guran shrugged.

“You were the only person in about two-hundred years who didn't hate him.” Finoh seemed agitated by Guran's uncertainty.

They arrived at the busy city square. Surrounded by high-rise buildings, the paths were lined by thick, green hedges and, in the centre of a circle of hedges, was a huge statue carved atop four trees.

“What's the statue?” Guran asked.

“Four tree trunks standing storeys high, all twisted and carved into the first Adjeti Warchief, Adecin.” Finoh paused. “He's kind of like a god to a few groups of Adjeti.”

“Do you think that?”

Finoh had a strange look on his face. “Of course not. He was just the same as us, just more primitive. He didn't advance our race; he started a civil war and, when he won, proclaimed himself ruler of Oblivion.”

Guran shook his head and smiled. “There's so much we don't know about your planet. It seems to have such a deep history, and we know nothing about it.”

Finoh smiled. “Do you wish to visit the archives?”

Guran wanted to jump for joy, but was able to compose himself. “Certainly.”

Pulling his Adjeti-made coat around him, he noticed that the wind had picked up. Glancing at the sky, he saw that the pale blue sky had a greenish tinge to it. “Is that normal?” Guran pointed at the sky.

Finoh followed his gaze. “Not that I've seen before, no. Maybe it's something to do with the gate being opened. Now come on; we've got the archives to explore.”

Guran followed Finoh through the streets until they found the old, stone library building; the archives were in the basement, below the research and fiction books on the upper floors. It looked, from the outside, like an ancient fortress. For all Guran knew, it could well have been. With one last concerned look at the sky, Guran entered the library.

Emergence: Chapter 40

The Dominion hovered over the Grand Park on New Orbus, landing ramp extended so that it touched the ground; the flagship was too large to land in the park without causing further damage. The corpses were taken off the ship first, carried by the commanding officers. Soldier after soldier was carried past Maron as he waited near the ramp with the survivors. Xaosian corpses were left on board, and the prisoners were in chains like animals. Maron looked at them with disgust even as the last corpse was brought out. Now it was the turn of the injured to limp out, holding on to other soldiers as they did so. Maron walked over to a struggling soldier who seemed to be dragging his foot along the floor.

“Come here.” Maron said quietly, putting his arm under his comrade's, supporting his weight and lifting him slightly. The soldier weighed more than he'd expected, but he managed.

“Thanks.” The soldier lifted his foot off the ground and leant on Maron, who grimaced at the extra weight.

“No problem.” Maron noticed the seeping red hole in the soldier's leg. “What's your name?”

“Rals.” He grunted. “Yours?”

“Maron. Now come on Rals, we need to get you out of here.”

They began their slow walk down the landing ramp to the cheers of the ordinary citizens. Maron smiled; it was nice to appreciated for a change. In the army, there was little individuality, only ranks, so appreciation never really affected the lower ranks. When they go to the bottom, he let Rals go, and the younger soldier sat on the ground. “Wait for a doctor.” Maron said sternly as he took his armour off. “You'll be fine.”

“Where are you going?” Rals called as Maron dropped his armour to the floor.

“Home.” Maron called back.

As he walked through the park, people came up to him with messages of praise and thanks. Some stayed back and stared, which he much preferred; the crowds wanted to be around him, but he felt cramped and he could feel their arms against his, feet against feet, and eyes burning him; his claustrophobia was returning. He pushed his way through the mob, more forcefully than he intended to. Someone gasped and others muttered, but he ignored them.

He felt their stares on his back as he strode through the park, but he ignored them; they didn't know him, he didn't know them. When did personal space cease to exist? He coughed as he walked quickly away, and decided to slow down. His lungs burned as he coughed again, hunching over as he did so. Silently cursing the damned Ukafa Sticks, he stood still, breathing deeply until he was able to breathe properly again.

The park wasn't far from where he lived, but he couldn't quite see his house from where he was. Heading over to the eastern part of the park, he began to see the clumps of mud and grass that had been torn from the ground. Then he began to see the wreckage. Homes fallen to the ground, piles of uneven chunks littered the ground. Most homes were still standing, but a few of them were ailed with a broken window or fire damage. The streets were not as bad as he'd expected; some were ruined, looking as if someone had taken a carving knife to it. Some, however, were fine, but littered with wreckage. Corpses lay about, mostly human, with a Xaosian corpse appearing every now and then. He put his hand to his mouth; how much more devastation would have been wreaked if they hadn't stopped the Xaosians? What if they come back?

Maron took a deep breath and turned back around; he was prepared to give up the fighting, or at least rest at home for a few days. But Xaos won't rest. Their allies won't rest; they fled. They could return. He knew what he had to do.

Walking back towards The Dominion, he passed the crowd again and he hung his head, apologising to them as he walked through. They stepped back, but seemed to accept the apology with a nod.

“I thought you were going home.” Maron turned to see Rals looking at him with a curious look on his face.

“I was going to.” Maron sat down on the grass next to him. “But then I thought about all the people who were murdered here, all the destruction. If I went home, and turned my back on fighting, then I'd be turning my back on everyone here. The Xaosians need to be stopped, and the army needs all the help it can get.”

Rals nodded. “I get you there. That's why I want to keep fighting.” He pointed at his leg, which was now wrapped in a white cast. “That cast thing's been given to the soldiers who want to fight on; heals the injuries quicker.”

Maron looked at Rals and assessed him quickly; good-looking lad, probably about twenty years his junior. Weighed a lot for his athletic frame, so dense muscle. Sound morals. “You got any family, buddy?”

“Yeah, but they're back on Prauw.” He gave a dry laugh. “Bet they're shitting it worrying about me.” Maron smiled at this sentiment. “You got any family?”

Maron's smiled vanished. “Did. Parents died of old age a few months back and I'm an only child.”

Rals's features saddened. “I'm sorry to hear that.”

Maron forced a smile. “Yeah, so am I. I fell to bits after they died, alienated everyone around me.” He coughed, and pulled a small box out of his pocket and opened it. Inside were about half a dozen sticks; Ukafa Sticks. “Smoked more of these after that. Smoked anyway. Got it under control now, though. Mind if I...” Rals waved him on, and Maron took one out and placed it in his mouth, before offering the pack to Rals, who shook his head. Maron patted his pockets until he found his lighter, and igniting the stick.

Breathing in, the sting of the Ukafa set in, the tang in the back of the throat. Muscles relaxed and he briefly closed his eyes, enjoying both the taste and the relaxation it gave him. Breathing out, a small puff of smoke came out, but not as much as the old kind; he remembered those damn things.

“Filthy habit.” Rals joked.

“I know.” Maron agreed, nodding. “But I love it. It relaxes me. What relaxes you?”

Rals seemed to think about it for a moment. “Usually, I just look at the view from my apartment; you can see right across the biodomes and another of the fields. From there, the stones of Orbus. Beautiful. Calms me everytime.”

“Not exactly portable, is it?” Maron asked.

“I find I can close my eyes when stressed, and I can feel my way back there, to my apartment window and stare at the fields, and the stone. Nature calms me. Beauty calms me.”

Maron looked at Rals. “You'd make a great poet. You stick to beauty, I'll stick to drugs.” He stubbed his Stick out on the grass, then throwing the stub somewhere behind him. “And when we go out again – to battle I mean – I'll make sure we get put together; maybe we can enlighten each other.”

Rals chuckled. “I don't need enlightening.”

“We all need enlightening at some point. Ukafa just helps.”

Emergence: Chapter 39

Engines roared as Keinam's Wing-Ship entered New Orbus's atmosphere. Scores of ships flew past him, both Adjeti and human. United in victory, none of the human craft fired upon the Adjeti's, which surprised Keinam; from what he remembered of the humans, they were a violent and primitive race. Evidently their desperation to win the battle had outweighed their aggressive natures. Keinam was glad that a couple of centuries had furthered their evolution.

He pulled the Wing-Ship down past the flaming city. As he rushed past, he could see fallen buildings and pillars of smoke, his Adjeti forces storming the streets and taking down the remaining Xaosians. From his perspective, it didn't look like there were many left, but the amount of Xaosian corpses was far less than civilian corpses. Keinam briefly considered mourning, before realising that no-one, none of them, would have ever mourned the Adjeti's loss. He may have saved them, but they would probably still persecute them. Otor's idea of peace with the humans here sounded nice, but it was just a fantasy; Keinam didn't trust them.

Ignoring the city for now, he steered his ship down to the surface and underneath New Orbus, landing on the firm stone of Orbus itself; as far as knew, no-one had been here since it was incinerated by the World-Burner. Keinam cursed under his breath; the Pyrkagia had used the Adjeti's weapon against Orbus, and everyone, understandably, assumed that it was the Adjeti. But no-one would listen to the Warchiefs' words, and the humans used the World-Burner against its creators. Or so they had thought.

Keinam smiled at the trickery he had orchestrated in order to save his world, his race. Yes, many died, and the uprisings on Oblivion were brutal and unnecessary, but were thousands died, millions remained; he had won. He hadn't yet lost a battle; he had been close many times, but he had always pulled through.

He exited his ship and put his ear to the ground, knocking on the stone. Not noticing out of the ordinary, he moved on a few standards, before repeating. This time, he noticed a different sound to the knuckles-on-stone; more like knuckles-on-metal. He moved a standard to the left, and knocked again: stone. Two standards right and he found a louder knock of metal, camouflaged as stone.

Smiling to himself, he donned his exoskeleton, feeling the warmth of the liquid bone flow over his body before solidifying. Both his actual bones and exoskeleton cracked as he twisted his hand into a blade form. It hurt at first, but when the blade was fully formed, the pain subsided. He plunged the blade into the metal beneath, a high-pitched scratch piercing his ears. He ignored it and persevered, cutting a hole in the camouflaged metal large enough for him to drop down.

He gripped the sides, and lowered himself in, then dropped. Feet hit the ground with a thud after a brief fall. Looking around, he saw wires lining the walls and he knew he was on track. He followed the wires as they grew ever-denser, letting him know he was on the right track.

Moving through the caves, he soon began to hear movement and a strange bubbling sound; could it be that someone had got here before him? The narrow caves began to grown wider, until it opened into a large room. The first thing he saw was an Orban at a computer, and he thought he recognised it.

“Ha'kuun?” Keinam asked.

The Orban turned around, showing no surprise to Keinam. “Ah, Warchief...Keinam, was it?”

Keinam had never really got used to the Orban voices when they entered his head. “Yeah, I'm Keinam. What happened here? How are alive?”

Ha'kuun seemed confused by the question. “Your back-up project. Do you not remember?”

“I know that much.” Keinam remembered the back-up project; a cloning chamber with a mind transferring system. After discovering that the brain communicated via electricity, the logistics of storing it briefly inside a server seemed possible. This bunker was preserved beneath the ground; in case of disaster, a few Orbans could shelter and be reborn after their original bodies died. “But how did you awaken from your tubes?”

“Her.” Ha'kuun pointed to a dark-haired young human female. “She accidentally awakened us again when her ship crashed here.”

Keinam nodded, before rounding on the woman. “Who are you?”

“My name is Ilisa, and I'm from Raan.” Ilisa seemed terrified at the sight of Keinam.

Keinam shed his exoskeleton, allowing it to drain back inside his chest. “Are you the only human here?”

“No.” Ha'kuun answered. “Her partner is in the tube.”

Keinam took a deep breath; stay calm. “What is he doing in the tube?”

“Being revived of course.” Another Orban interjected. “His body was dead, but his mind was sound. Ilisa awakened us, it seemed fair to repay her actions.”

Keinam considered it, and eventually conceded. “Fine.” He turned to Ilisa. “You stay here until your partner wakes. I need one of the Orbans.”

“I'd planned to stay.” Ilisa's voice was loud and defiant.

“Why do you need an Orban?” Ha'kuun asked.

Keinam smiled. “You have no idea what's happened over the last couple of centuries, do you?”

Ha'kuun shook his head. “All I know is that our world is mostly dead, aside from that new city the humans built.”

“My race was blamed for your planet's death, and persecuted. We had to hide beyond the Oblivion Gate, and to save Oblivion, we were trapped there for all this time. Long story short, anyway.”

“Hang on,” Ilisa spoke up, “You're an Adjeti?”

Keinam forced a smile. “Well done, dear. Yes I am.” Keinam turned and walked away, beckoning Ha'kuun to come with him. It was a shame that Keinam couldn't see Ilisa's expression; he imagined that it was shocked, angered and perplexed in one hideous combination.

“Why do you need me?” Ha'kuun asked.

“To prove our innocence.” Keinam walked ahead of Ha'kuun, looking over his shoulder to ensure that the Orban was still following. “We have footage proving our innocence, but footage can be doctored. But your testimony and existence cannot be faked.”

“We will take down the Pyrkagia.” Ha'kuun's voice took on an vicious tone. “Shame we couldn't stop them before,” he gestured to everything around him, “this.”

“We tried. We couldn't get there in time.” Keinam had never counted that in his battle losses; there had been no battle, as they were too late. “I killed the Primary earlier; that was a sweet victory. They should be in disarray now.”

“Revenge will be sweet.”

“It will.”

Emergence: Chapter 38

“Lyss Fown” entered Irin after a long, albeit uneventful flight. As soon as he stopped off the ship, he put the hood of his brown jacket over his head; he didn't want to be recognised. He figured that it was unlikely that he would be, he could never be too careful. Hands in pockets, head down, Foton walked out of the spaceport. He'd always had a love/hate relationship with spaceports; he loved the variety of races and their ships, but he hated the crowds. Although he could blend in with the crowd, Foton tended to prefer people separated more sparsely; less chance of recognition.

Reaching into his pockets, he found the small silver cube that the Blind Assassin had given to him. On the flight, he had tried to open it, but it was a sealed unit; the only way to open it would be break it apart. While he was tempted to break it apart, he realised that he might break the electronics within, which would mess up his mission and probably see him killed.

In his other pocket, was a small ID badge with his target's name and picture on. No address, which annoyed Foton. Apparently, his target was Professor Tujin Diank, a balding middle-aged Irinian. Foton didn't know what he had done to whoever wanted him dead; he rarely knew. Sometimes, the Assassins were hired by government agencies or Enforcers to catch and kill criminals that had eluded them; the Assassins could do things that they could not. Mostly, however, they were hired by private parties to do their dirty work. Occasionally it was satisfying work, but Foton figured that this one wouldn't be.

He looked around for a bit, observing the shining architecture; buildings were fluid and asymmetrical, and left Foton in awe of the amount of detail and planning which went into them. The dome which surrounded the city could only be seen if you were trying to see it, and even then you only noticed a slight discretion in the way that the light passed through. Apparently, the beautiful architecture was even better in the capital city, but Foton was glad he wasn't there; too many people and government officials that might recognise him. Luckily, the Assassins had given him a ticket to the right city, which he was thankful for; transport between the domed cities was a pain in the arse.

After asking around the city, Foton was able to find out where he lived; right in the centre of the city. Wanting to get this over with, he called a taxi, which ferried him over. When he arrived, he circled the house, observing it from different angles. Compared to most buildings, this was rather simple; standard cube ground-floor, and a seperate cube for the top floor. However, the top floor was turned 45 degrees on it Z-axis, giving the impression that the architecture had been twisted in a giant's hand.

Leaping in to its back-garden, Foton landed without a sound. That was a technique many Assassins learn; distribute your weight fully, change your centre of gravity, and you will make no sound on the ground. Taking out a small computer-chip, he held it to a panel on the door. In an instant, the chip replicated the necessary data required to enter the house. As the door slid open, Foton crept inside. Sensing movement, the motion-sensitive lights came on, illuminating the room. There was nothing of interest to Foton in the hallway, nor in the kitchen. The living room was empty too, aside from two sofas and a large screen which took up half of a wall. Nodding in approval, Foton crept upstairs. Poking around in the rooms, he realised, as he had suspected, that there was no-one home. He found the room which appeared to be Tujin's study. Rifling through the blueprints and documents on his desk, Foton soon found a printed email from the laboratory where Tujin worked. Most importantly, it had the lab's address on; not far from his house.

When Foton arrived at the lab, he found it quite plain and boring compared to the other buildings. Good; it makes it easier to navigate. Scaling the building with a pair of stat-mag gloves – static-magnetic; can attach to anything with a static charge – Foton broke in through an open window, climbing in silently. Instantly, he heard whistling, but he listened out for other voices. The whistling stopped, giving him a chance to hear footsteps as well. Unsurprisingly, Foton heard no other footsteps; no-one wanted to work this time of evening.

Walking into the corridor, Foton slowly made his way through the building and down the stairs. He could see Tujin now, too busy on a screen to notice. He was smaller in real-life than he'd looked on the picture Foton had seen, but everything else was pretty much spot-on.

Foton waited until he was near to his target, before standing up straight and putting his hidden-blade into a “ready” position. “Tujin Diank?” Foton continued walking towards him as he turned around.

“What do you want? Who are you?” Tujin stepped back, cowering as Foton got closer.

“Don't struggle.” Foton thrust the hidden-blade under Tujin's hips, and up into his heart. Tujin slumped with a grunt, and Foton pulled the blade out, before wiping the blood on it onto Tujin's clothes. Carefully, Foton put a hand into his pocket and pulled out Blind Assassin's silver cube, placing it next to Tujin's bleeding corpse. A crackle of electricity flashed between the box and Tujin's implant, making Foton back away. They both flashed for a moment, before going back to being still. Foton looked at them suspiciously; there was more going on here than the Blind Assassin was letting on.

Emergence: Chapter 37

The nights were dark, and no stars could be seen. No light could be seen after Carnat turned the lights off. Ash lay awake every night, not trusting the darkness, perhaps even fearing it. Sometimes he closed his eyes and watched the dreams unfold before him, but he could not relax at night. He slept in the evenings or mornings, requesting Carnat to look over him, which he agreed to do. Ash wasn't sure why he was afraid of the dark, but he assumed it stayed with him from what he referred to as his “past-life”.

Hearing Carnat moving, Ash nudged him. “Carnat.”

“What?” Carnat slurred, still half-asleep. “Ash?”

“Why are people afraid of the dark?” Ash stammered.

“Well...” Carnat sighed. “From what I understand, you're no technically afraid of the dark, you're afraid of whatever you associate with darkness.”

Ash shrugged. “I don't know what I associate with darkness; I think it was from...before.”

Carnat tutted. “I'd hoped you'd remembered something by now; after all this build-up, the truth's bound to be disappointing.”

Ash chuckled. “You're probably right. Well, disappointing for you. I don't really see my life being that eventful.”

“Until you wound up on Rat'hak without any memory.” Carnat's sarcasm dripped through his voice. “And however you ended up here. And whatever you fear in the dark.”

“Yeah, fair enough.” Ash nodded in agreement.

“Any ideas?” Carnat asked.

It took Ash a moment to realise that Carnat was asking about his fear. “I think it was the last thing I saw before my memories were lost. There are faceless men in my dreams, surrounded by darkness.”

“Are you afraid of them?” Carnat sounded uncertain. “Or of the fact that you came here in darkness?”

Ash considered it. “Probably both.”

Carnat nodded. “Yep, that's about right. Anyway, enough of that crap, I'm hungry.”

As Carnat said that, Ash's stomach rumbled. “Breakfast sounds good.”

There was already a plate of generic food cubes in front of the door, which cheered Ash up; usually, they'd have to ask and barter with the guards. “You know, you can fault this place all you like, but at least we get three meals a day.” Ash observed, taking a cube.

“Shit meals.”

“Even so, they're better than nothing.”

“Yeah, probably.”

Ash popped the cube into his mouth, chewing the soft and slightly moist lump. Painstakingly, he swallowed with a gulp. “Ugh, everytime they are worse than I remember.”

Carnat agreed. “See? Shit meals.”

Ash gave a sharp laugh. “Yeah, they are.”

Silence as they ate. Carnat ate quickly to get the taste over and done with, but Ash ate slowly, not wanting to carry on tasting them.

When the plate was empty, Ash belched and asked Carnat a question. “We got any more fights soon?”

“Yeah, tomorrow, I think.” Carnat smiled. “Try not to miss your shot this time.”

“I'll try.” Ash hung his head. “I'm sorry.”

“It's fine buddy, don't worry about it.” Carnat put a hand on Ash's shoulder.

“No, it's not.” Ash shook his head. “I could've gotten both of us killed.”

Carnat pulled Ash into a hug. “You could have. But you didn't; you got a second chance. Make it count tomorrow.”

“I'll try.”

“No.” Carnat broke away and stared him in the eye. “You will. You won't just try; I believe in you. You just need to believe in yourself.” Carnat moved back. “Yuck, that was cringey.”

Ash laughed. “Yeah, it kinda was.” His tone turned more serious. “But thanks. I won't let you down again.”

“No, you won't.”