At first, there was light, through the galaxy and beyond. It stretched beyond civilizations and stardust, long past the faded dreams and fears of all that lived, long past the continued vigil of brilliant fire. There, at the edge of it all- was darkness. There at the border, standing as a lone sentry before a victorious army- was Oblivion.
The light did not dim; instead, it slowly choked; each flicker a desperate gasp. Entire star systems engulfed in liquid darkness. Soon, Oblivion will come for us all.
Here we are untouched. Surrounded, but intact. That is the sacrifice, the last act of a forgotten God. At the edge of our galaxy, hidden among the smallest stars, lies a place of high strength. The arch stone of the galaxy's invisible shield. The one thing that Oblivion cannot pass. The last candle of light before the dark wind.
Chapter 1:
The marketplace was a show of broken neon and cheap shame. Dust danced at the street's edge as an army of quick feet threatened to send it airborne. Black and tanned bodies hustled through the smoky road. Women clutched at unruly children as they looked through baskets of dark carmine fruits and small amber grains. Sweat shined throughout the market like the focus of a magnifying glass. Young girls wore innocent eyes as they wandered through the crowd offering flower crowns to those still possessing naïve curiosity. Lerian made sure to avoid their gazes. The first time he walked through the market, he had gained a flower crown and lost a heavy pocket.
The city of Pharos was vibrant, like the most inviting mirage. The promises it held were often seen but never delivered. Cramped markets, vast deserts, and foreboding mountains were all this planet offered. The once richly engrained sandstone walls that kept the city from spilling into the desert had lost the stories from when it was still a brilliant crimson. Like spilled blood, it lost its importance the more it dried up. Pharos was once known as the planet of red beauty; now, all it's known for is weighing you down with sand, Lerian thought. Even after a year, he was still having trouble finding ways to keep sand out of his boots. He grimaced as he went to wipe sweat from his face. His hand stopped before it got there. Now wasn't the place to be left with a smudged disguise. He shook his head and walked further into the marketplace. His eyes stayed glued to the ground, outside of the occasional glance at the hectic world around him.
He drifted through the streets, trying to observe a world he had never thought he would know. His feet carried him to a long dry fountain sitting in a corner plaza that held a copper globe in the middle. The name of the planet lost itself in the water, but Lerian knew it was the First planet. Out past the asteroid belt at the edge of the farthest world, life had crept into this galaxy from a forgotten place. His hand brushed over the globe, all that was left was the outline of a single E. His fingers lingered over the remaining letter when he glanced down the street away at a menacing old building that towered on a far corner. Four stories of dark grey stone stood out like an intruder next to the crumbling sandstone of its neighbors. That's where he had called home for the past year, the Vennen Mercenary Guild.
Lerian made his way down the street, getting closer to the lonesome giant. A rust-colored blast door guarded the front like a faithful hound at the feet of its master. His feet itched to explore more of the city, but his absence had a time limit. No matter where he was, he was trapped — always following the orders of anyone but himself. His eyes darted up and down the thinned out street before typing the code into the blast door. A deep thud and clang pulled the door open and greeted Lerian to the smell of gun oil and rust as he stepped inside. His feet found the same cold grey stone underneath as sand tried to sneak off the street with him.
Choked yellow lights lit the front hallway that opened into a massive mess hall. Rooms spilled lazily off to the side as if the bunk rooms for the mercenaries were an afterthought. The stench of soured food made his nose wrinkle as he stepped past the third door. Ursula Lang was one of the few mercs with their room. The rotting food wafted out from under her closed door, but no one had dared to comment on it. Closed mouths were one of the perks of being the top-rated gun in the guild. At the end of the hallway, there a little pocket of space that Lerian had claimed for his own. Over the past few months, he had been able to appropriate an old desk and books for his nook right before the mess hall. It's where he hid away when Arjen or other veterans were looking for someone to clean up the bunks.
Moving past his little nook, Lerian walked into the most substantial part of the guild. The mess hall ceiling itself was two stories high. Smoke from the kitchen was able to nestle in the ceiling above the benches undisturbed after a big meal. Unlike the rest of the guild, the mess hall was open to everyone. Long wooden tables and chairs filled the drafty room for the mercenaries that didn't hide away in the library or upper levels. At the end of the mess hall stood a massive steel door guarding the entrance to the armory. Lerian skirted past the stairs to the top levels as he tried to pad forward in silence. The low lights let him slip into the hall without being noticed. He scanned the benches when the chatter of the holovid floated from the far end into his ears.
He moved closer to see some of the idle veterans crowding around the holovid near the armory. Unlike most that walked through that door, they had completed their twenty years of service. Most of them were content to relax in the mess hall and dispense unsolicited advice. The loss of their youth combined with a completed tenure meant they weren't itching for needless bloodshed or bravado. Lerian turned back towards the front hall to find his room when he overheard his father's name.
"The rogue senator, Aurelian Vox, has yet to be captured after his latest attack on the planet of Thantium was stopped. Vox's Senatorial coup has been ongoing for two months following his loss in the Senatorial elections. Vox's forces were said to have been within 100 feet of the Senate before being pushed back. Both forces suffered complete losses after an attacking ship detonated itself mid-fleet." Lerian's heart clenched as he tried to keep the shock from reaching his face.
"The Senatorial guard has reported no survivors and has petitioned the Federation to open recruit beyond Thantium to help offset the losses. The nearby plaza lays in ruin as officials scramble to send a response. Officially, no members of the Senate are among the causalities, but the search continues." He knew that wasn't true. If his father had attacked the Senate, he would have also handpicked targets for his forces to attack. His father was too meticulous in wasting a chance like that.
"A figure of 1 billion Galactic credits will reward the capture of Aurelian Vox- Any information regarding his whereabouts will be similarly credited." The recording cut off, leaving a picture of his father with the 1 billion credit reward at the bottom. His father's different colored eyes pierced through the screen- looking directly at Lerian. The odd mix of warm violet and ice blue left him feeling cold fear slither down his spine "A billion credits…" He whispered. Never in the Federations history had such a figure been offered, he thought. But then again, there had never been a man like his father in the history of the galaxy.
Lerian's current anonymity let him stay out of sight on Pharos, but every day brought the risk of being discovered. His father had moved Lerian to Pharos from the academy on Thantium as he had prepared his forces to attack the Senate. Lerian knew his father kept his army hidden on Heorot, a small moon hidden between Thantium and an asteroid belt. The lack of precious minerals or being in the line of the galactic trade route meant Heorot was a useless object to the Federation. Lerian's family had seen it differently, and now it was hiding his father from a vengeful government. Lerian hoped his father wouldn't come for him. It was enough never to be settled, let alone pulled into someone else's war? That was too much. Lerian looked down at his clenched fists and let out a breath. He focused on the dusty floor as he let his mind pull away from dark memories.
"OY! Boy! Where in Seven Stars have you been?" Arjen growled as he marched down the stairs towards Lerian. He whipped his head around to find Arjen looming over him.
"I was uh…" Lerian stumbled.
"Outside," Arjen said quietly. Lerian looked down. "That's what I fucking thought. You know the rules. You don't look like the natives here; you get caught, and everything goes to shit. You try and duck me again, and I'll have you lashed like the little creature you are. Don't forget whose favor you're here on."
"I won't forget, Arjen." Lerian let ice pierce his words.
"Don't start with me, boy." Arjen let out in a hiss. "You're not your father. Not now, not ever." Lerian stared Arjen down or tried to before he spun on his heel and marched back to the mess hall. Not all retreats were tactile- but this one was. Arjen was a beast of a man, standing well over six foot six and filling each inch of it with stiff muscle. He was the last person to piss off, and not just because he was head of the guild. He was the only person on the entire planet of Pharos who knew Lerian's true identity. Arjen had worked on Heorot for Lerian's father as one of the captains of his security teams before he relocated to Pharos. Without Arjen, for all of his menacing and grumbles, Lerian would be in a much worse place. One certainly worse than merely being the youngest trainee in the guild.
Something that would be changing soon, he hoped. Not only was the Vennen Mercenary Guild a place for Lerian to hide, but it was a place for him to learn. His father always told him that if you are to choose an action, it should have more than one benefit. The guild was precisely that, a place to stash an impure child of a man obsessed with a perfect legacy. Ultimately, Lerian knew that his father would take an impure legacy over none at all. Lerian pushed the dark thoughts from his mind and looked around the drafty hall for something to eat. He needed something instead of nerves to fill his stomach.
Lerian had heard a rumor that Arjen was sending him out on an official mission today. But he knew better than to trust tales from bored veterans. If it were right though, he'd have to go touch up his face. Before arriving on Pharos, Lerian had never thought about disguising himself. But once he came, he realized stood out like a flare next to native Pharocians. He had to do something to camouflage himself if he was going to move in public. Most days started with a light application of grease to darken his skin from the olive tan of the typical Thantium to something dark enough to blend in with the dark shadow Pharocians. He wore long sleeves and pants so that he only had to do his face. It was a pain, but it had allowed him to sneak out of the guild and through the market more or less undetected.
Lerian finally grasped the reality that stood before him, after his previous attempts to join a mission fell short. Once he stepped out those blast doors, everything was up in the air. Desperate and calculated figures alike found themselves drawn to the Vennen Guild. The reward of instant credits far outweighed the risk of having their flea-bitten life end sooner than expected. For all the riches that the streets of Pharos possessed, precious few held it. None of the galactic equality that the Federation claimed would arrive from Thantium ever appeared. Pharos, along with Fleran and Enx, had been systematically forced to bow their heads to the Federation. Most of the outer stars still had small pockets of resistance, but the Galactic agents hunted even those. The powerful kept their circle tight, a social movement was rare, especially among the elite. A change took time or force, Lerian's father had chosen the latter, and now Lerian would pay for it with him.
"Lerian, my boy, can you stop pacing? You're burning a hole through the floor," Yoren called out from the bench closest to the holovid. Lerian snapped out of his thoughts.
"Oh! I didn't realize I was walking," he trailed off, looking around to find himself standing at the back of the mess hall.
"Well, you were. Your boots are making an awful noise. I can barely make out what they're saying about Vox. I think they offered a billion mark reward." Yoren's yellow eyes peeled back with avarice. "A billion marks." He whispered to himself, already lost in his thoughts of unclaimed treasure. Lerian's stomach sank as he watched the fever of riches burn through Yoren. He looked around the guild, knowing that he wouldn't be able to hide out with people who sold their integrity for credits.
Lerian turned back to the holovid to see his father again. This time he was able to look past his memories and see the man his father had become. Destiny had carved the lines of his face like scripture on stone. Even in the light, shadows hung over his face, save for his burning eyes. A righteous fury radiated through the screen as he looked at the dark road his father chose to travel. A small smile crossed his lips; now, Aurelian Vox was as distant and unavailable to a wanting world as he was with him during his youth. The Galactic agents wouldn't take his father without paying in blood. Bodies will pile before my father falls, Lerian thought. Yoren drifted back over to him.
"I hear you're finally going on a mission, think you're ready?" he said.
"I'm ready as long it gets me out of this hall. All I've done is file reports and choke on dust."
"Be careful what you wish for, young blood. Anytime you step out of that blast door; you might not come back."
"Is that why you hide inside all day, old man?" Lerian said, growing tired of Yoren's jibes.
"Me, hiding? You'll know why I stay behind those doors once you leave them. Yoren Bakr is not a name that rests easily on these streets." Yoren pulled himself up. "But perhaps those whispers are now silent. Either way, both worlds stay safe with me behind these walls." For a brief second, Lerian didn't see a grizzled old man, but someone of real authority and confidence. Like a desert storm, it disappeared almost instantly. Arjen broke up a conversation as he stomped over to Lerian with a red folder. He pushed it into Lerian's hands. Yoren took one last look at Lerian before shifting away from the bench and walked into the library.
"Read it. Know it. Do it. The first chance is the only chance, Lerian. Don't let me tell your father you got yourself killed."
"Arjen, when do we leave?" Lerian asked.
"We? There's no "We" on this. You're with the Malos brothers. They move fast, don't fall behind." Arjen barked before walking off. Lerian looked down at the red folder and walked over to the mess hall table. He began to flip through the report, it was a regular security job, escorting a merchant's caravan through the desert towards the Flevis outpost at the base of Mt.Asengali. The report noted a small risk of bandits but highlighted a high risk of dehydration. With water rations doubled, the equipment was standard for a security job. Nothing more than bolt rifles and short swords required for the trip. Lerian's hand dropped to his sword on his right side, a small, curved blade. It was one of the few things that his father had ever given him besides his name. A year ago, Lerian had been studying the economic systems of each outer planet as he tried to avoid his classmates at the academy. Today, he was going to be protecting a caravan. Today, he would finally be doing something.
The Malos brothers came through the blast doors an hour later, their midnight black skin slick with sweat from the midday sun. They saw Lerian and made a beeline towards him.
"Well, well, we hear you're going to be our lookout today," Ren smirked as he loomed over Lerian.
"Yeah, you can be our Little Bird. Just give a peep if you see something." Maric laughed. Both brothers stood over Lerian leering. Their thin, wiry frames disguised a foul talent with knives and excessive bloodshed. They weren't known as the "Twin Terrors" for nothing; they were a nightmare in a fight.
"Anything you say. I'm sure everyone will be thrown off by your hulking physiques anyway. What with you two blocking out the sun with all that muscle" Lerian clawed back.
"Oh ho, look at that, Maric, looks like the Little Bird has a sharp beak. Watch who you peck before this day is out. It'd be a shame to have your feathers plucked." Ren cooed. They pushed past Lerian towards the bunks. Lerian cursed himself for falling to their bait. He should have kept his mouth shut, but after being tormented at the academy, he refused to let anyone walk all over him. Angry thoughts rolled in like thunder clouds as Lerian felt memories of Thantium bubble up. He took a breath before looking over the itinerary. Making sure he double checked everything; he lost himself in the map of Pharos and its outer limits. His eyes lingered over a dark patch halfway between Pharos and the Flevis outpost; there was an "SP" scratched next to it. He got to his feet to ask Yoren what it meant when the Malos brothers walked back into the mess hall.
"Alright, Little Bird, it's now or never. Ready to fly the coop?" Ren called out as they moved towards Lerian. Both Ren and Maric had traded their tan pants and red leather straps for dark orange Exo suits. It hugged their spindly bodies as Lerian thought of spiders. Rifles slung over their backs as their swords hung at their sides. "We've got a record to protect, 47 consecutive deliveries. Let's go make it 48." Lerian jumped to his feet to follow the brothers towards the front hallway. They paused before the blast door, saying a short muted prayer. The brothers nodded at each other and opened the door.
Lerian took a second to look up and down the street. For all the times he had snuck out of the guild, stepping out with permission felt like freedom. The dry air embraced him as an old lover as the desert sands danced across his feet. The brothers started towards the West end of town; he shadowed them as they glided through the streets. He tried to mimic their soft shoulders but kept hitting people as he pushed through the crowd to keep up. The brothers got further away with each bump into his body.
He tried not to panic as it felt like snakes were coiling in his stomach. The next street, he lost sight of them completely. He kept pushing forward as he looked for their tall, wiry frames and dark armor. He felt his heart pound and started forcing people out of his way. His breath came out in short huffs as he scanned the crowd for the brothers. People poured around him like water as he began to curse. A hand clamped down on his shoulder, his body tried to bolt, but the fingers locked him in place. He whipped around to find the brothers smiling at him with wry grins.
"That was a pretty good run, don't you think, Ren?"
"I don't know, Maric, I felt like he could have flown a little further." Ren smiled.
"Don't tease the boy too much." Maric gave Lerian a once over. "You had us trailed far longer than most. Good work for a little menace."
"You didn't lose us right away. Try fifty more times, and then we'll get somewhere. Now let's go see a fat merchant about some camels." Ren's eyes lit up.
"Wait… what was that? Was that just a test?!" Lerian said, blowing air.
"Think of it more as a friendly introduction — no knives, guns, or gangs of twenty. You're still at the easy part. You'll know when we get to the real test Princess." Maric laughed. Lerian glared at Maric before nodding his head.
"…Okay."
"Hear that brother? Little Bird wants to keep flying." Ren cackled.
"Guess we'll keep going then." Maric shrugged. Lerian fell behind the brothers again. Unlike before, they didn't melt into the crowd. Instead, they stood taller, refusing to turn their shoulders. People seemed to pour around them, leaving Lerian free to follow close behind without fear of losing them. The dry air had soon married itself to a restless sun making Lerian's face slick with sweat. He thought longingly of the double rations of water in his pack, as his tongue stuck to the bottom of his mouth. Thankfully, the city gates came into view.
The west end of the city had been the original entrance into the city. Traders from Flevis and the mountain people of Asengali used to brave the desert sands to trade their goods for services you could only find in Pharos. Although the gates weren't much more than decoration these days, they still carried scars from their last and final attempt to hold out against the Thantium empire. A reminder to all that lived in the city that they had fought for their freedom and lost. It had been 300 years since the Federation had annexed Pharos. But being so far out in the galaxy, it hadn't changed anything.
Ownership changed hands, but the problems had stayed the same. True freedom was a myth, or so Aurelian had told Lerian. Everyone has a master, be it another person, desire, or an empire. His father's eyes had shone like Starfire when he said that. The only way to know who held power was to challenge it. Whatever reacted strongest, was it. Lerian wondered if his father thought that as he had closed in on the Senate, how that taste of victory must have turned to ash as the Senatorial guard held firm.
"Time to get to work, Little Bird," Ren said, nudging him. Lerian looked up to see a faded purple caravan at the gates. A short, portly man wrapped in a soft white cloak stood at the front of it, stomping his foot on the ground as he demanded the guard open the gate. The guard on duty was a slack faced man who looked at the short man unblinking, before yawning and straightening his stance.
"Ah, of course, it's Tullius. I almost forgot how easy everyone else is. You want to deal with this?" Maric said to Ren.
"Fine. But you owe me a flask of something strong after this." Ren said as he walked over. "And nothing cheap!" He shouted. Lerian and Maric watched as Ren stalked over to Tullius and the guard. He stepped between the two of them, pushing Tullius back before whispering something into the guard's ear. The guard's eyes lit up with surprise before laughing. He shook Ren's hand before turning to the post above the gates and let out two sharp whistles.
The gate shuddered before it pulled open. Tullius looked on in disbelief before wheeling on Ren. He opened his mouth when Ren shot his hand forward, catching the finger that Tullius had extended towards him. He slid in close, giving Tullius a look at his wicked smile before muttering into his ear. Tullius' face paled as he took a quick step back. Ren let go of his finger and laughed. He turned back towards Maric and Lerian, bowed with a flourish, and waved them over.
"Well, now that we've got that sorted. Let's go make some money," Ren said, rubbing his palms together.
"Tullius, you know the rules. Follow our instructions, and our day will be a breeze. Don't, and we won't be able to do our job. Are we on the same page?" Maric said, directing a level stare at Tullius. Tullius' nose flared as he looked between the brothers before his eyes rested on Lerian. They bulged with anger as he looked for an excuse to salvage his tattered pride.
"I buy your services to not only get insulted but to be escorted by a boy? I paid for three men. Not two and a boy." Tullius spat.
"Now, now, Tully, we all know that Maric and I are worth at least ten men. The boy here is simply a bonus. Besides, you wouldn't be implying that the Vennen Guild is incompetent, are you?" Ren's eyes widened with wild energy at the last comment. He stared at Tullius like a snake waiting to strike.
"No, no, I… I'm just trying to ensure that my cargo will be protected. My customers have costly tastes, and I am the only one who can sate their appetites." Tullius said, bristling with pride.
"Enough!" Maric barked. "Let's get a move on before any winds kick up. I don't need any more sand in my boots than I already have." Grumbling Tullius grabbed the reins of the lead camel and began out the gates and into the sands.
