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.”