Chapter 28: Once Lost

Kirrik rushed down the corridors, breath caught in his throat. His vision jumped from side to side as he anxiously scanned for a maintenance corridor to hop into. He had searched for longer than he cared to remember, and he was so close to finally finishing the job. Salted beads birthed from anxiety made their way down his brow.

A sharp turn led him into the next section of hallways, split into five different paths. A thin sliver between two of them signaled exactly what he was looking for. He looked around for security, but was met with silence. While sending a "Code Apogee" had initially gotten them into trouble, it somehow managed to come back around in their favor. Everyone on the upper floors of Flightline were going to be on high alert, waiting for something to happen. No one would leave their post unless absolutely necessary.

Kirrik slipped into the sliver, lit by a handful of dingy yellow lights above him, and pressed through. He sucked in his stomach, his back scraping against the wall.

'I don't understand how they expect anyone to get through these damn things,' He complained.

The maintenance corridor pressed in a little more, squeezing Kirrik between the walls. He took in what little air he could and pressed forward. A semi-circular room awaited him at the corridor's end, and he popped out into it with a gasp. He dusted himself off and took a moment to appreciate the airflow around him, then opened the bronze hatch at his feet. It revealed a ladder that descended into the dark depths. He jumped onto the ladder and made his way into the shadows.

Moments passed in complete darkness. Kirrik was careful to measure the distance between rungs as he continued down, and for a brief moment he questioned how many people had met their untimely demise from a single slip. He shook the thought out of his head. A blinking maroon light, no bigger than a speck of dust, caught his attention. It slowly expanded, reaching the size of a ball, then a human-sized disc. He slid down the rest of the rungs and his boots hit the solid floor with a light pop. The maroon light blinked down the ghostly corridor full of exposed wires and grates ahead, as if beckoning him to follow.

'Who am I to argue?' Kirrik thought.

The winding trail took him down a flight of stairs and a shoddy bridge before it ended at an archway with a key-coded door. Kirrik pulled out his pistol and blasted the pad off. The door whirred open and blinding sunlight burned into his eyes. He lifted his hand up to shield himself.

Kirrik's vision shifted from pure white to blurry color until he could make out clothing lines strung across the ceiling. He followed them, taking in the fake sky that was imprinted on the screens that hung from the roof. The archway expanded into an enormous hangar, devoid of ships but stuffed to the brim with makeshift markets and encampments. A sick feeling crept into Kirrik's stomach as he watched crowds of emaciated maintenance workers walk by, their baggy clothes caked in dust and grime.

"Lonow was right," Kirrik muttered to himself. "These people are prisoners. Cheap labor bought and shuttled in to keep the station and its prissy passengers afloat."

Kirrik made his way through the crowds, examining the faces and buildings around him. Everyone in the camp looked worn down beyond their breaking point. Their movements were slow and forced. Cobbled-together parks and stalls gave a small reprieve from the tents and storage buildings that surrounded them. Kirrik couldn't help but empathize with their despair. To be bought and freed from capture only to end up wasting away in the subsections of the galaxy's main governmental station seemed too cruel a fate.

A familiar name caused Kirrik to halt. He looked around for its origin. The beat of his heart hastened.

"Camina! I said you're needed on deck twelve!" A hefty worker called from across the way.

Kirrik traced the worker's eyeline to a woman standing amongst a small group. She turned around and gave the man an acknowledging wave, then returned to her conversation with the Ixr and Valnaken beside her. Kirrik's throat tightened and a hard pinch settled into his chest. Years of pain erupted from within.

The woman left the group and started walking toward the main crowd. Her blonde hair flowed all the way down her back, tied into a singular ponytail slick with oil and dirt. Crystalline blue irises hid within sunken eyes, and a long, thin scar marred the left side of her flushed cheeks. A silver necklace holding a piece of obsidian shrapnel clung to her skin.

Kirrik was overburdened by the weight of his emotional pain and couldn't bring himself to move. Images of flames and falling rafters flashed before him. After a lifetime of searching and questioning if she was even still alive, he had finally found the single positive reminder of his past. One of the two ghosts that refused to move on.

Camina Ishlan.

His sister.

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Zaius pressed through the hallways toward the offices of the High Prime, his mind working through every possible scenario that awaited. Nox followed, running her hand along the wall and leaving behind a small trail of yellow particles.

"You need to turn right up ahead. After that, we should be there," Nox guided. "Do you really think Kirrik will come back?"

"I hope so, but I don't fully know," Zaius said honestly.

"If he does, I'm going to give him nothing but hell and never let up. How could he leave us at a time like this?"

Zaius thought about what Kirrik had told him before he left. "We need to trust him."

They turned the corner and were met with a set of heavily fortified doors.

"This is it?" Zaius double-checked.

"This is the Human ambassador's office, yeah," Nox confirmed.

Zaius went to knock when the door whirred open and two armed guards yanked him and Nox inside. The guards pressed the two up against the wall, rifles inches from their face. The lavish furniture and bright green motif of the room reminded Zaius of the Highlands back on Tovarro. A rotund man gazed out of the room-sized window panel ahead of them.

"Who sent you?" The man asked, his hoarse voice reverberating off the window.

Zaius looked at Nox in confusion. She shrugged. "I'm not sure what you mean?" He answered.

"Who sent you to kill me? Was it the Kunar? The Chyl? A third party attempting to grab my seat at the top?"

Zaius shook his head, even though the man couldn't see. "We're not here on an assassination mission. I promise you. We're here because you and everyone else on this station are in serious danger."

The man let out a low chuckle. He turned to face Zaius and Nox, smoothing his wiry mustache. "You two think you can win me over with that? You hire a Hunter to smuggle you inside, beat my security within an inch of their lives and charge into my office, then expect me to believe that you're here to save me?"

"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds a bit dense," Nox conceded.

"Dense? It's more than dense, you little rat. Do you know what I could do to you? To your family? I could atomize your entire existence!"

Zaius struggled against the security guard. "Don't talk to her like that, you tomato-looking bastard!"

"You will stay silent!" The man growled, his face turning crimson. "I am Prime Minister Ovril Vekah. You will remember that name, because it will be the last one you ever hear!"

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Diah sat still next to her mother at the front of the chambers as each of the Alis trickled down the rows of stairs and toward their seats. It had been so long since she had seen most of the Alis members that many were complete strangers. Even Senator Mazza had aged past the point of recognition. Wyrna stood tall and observed as everyone shuffled about, and Gallard had taken up a standing space on her other side. Once everyone was seated, Wyrna rang the chime in front of her, which was then echoed by the timekeepers and their chimes seated around the edges of the chamber. Warm sunlight trickled in through the tall windows that ran along the left and right side.

"I call this meeting of the Alis to order," Wyrna stated loudly and clearly. "Thank you, dear representatives, for convening so quickly to address this urgent matter. As you can see, my daughter Diah has returned to us at last."

There was a scattering of applause from around the room. Diah felt embarrassed having the attention drawn to her. Gallard clapped the loudest.

"Yes, it is a most wonderful thing to have her back," Wyrna continued. "But she comes bearing verification of what our intelligence office has brought forth. What you have heard is true: we are indeed the target of an impending Kunar attack."

The Alis broke into a frenzy, each member speaking over another or shouting out questions.

"Quiet please, friends," Gallard called out. He repeated himself again even louder when nothing changed. The crowd calmed back down. "We will permit each member to speak their opinion in due time. This is a matter in which we must all have a voice."

Diah listened intently to the words of every member as Gallard pointed and notified them of their turn. There were calls to parlay with the Kunar. Others suggested evacuating the major cities. Senator Mazza even claimed that the Chyl did not have the resources available to wage a war at home and amongst the stars. Many demanded the Chyl fight back in full force, and the idea of maintaining order amongst the citizens of Liotik and even Vensha as a whole proved to be the driving point that most of the Alis agreed on.

Wyrna stood as the last member, Senator Firo, said his piece. She clasped her hands together in her usual style. "My fellow Alis, thank you for your words. If you all would kindly allow me the same respect I have shown to you today, I would like to ask my daughter for her thoughts on the matter."

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"We don't have time for this!" Zaius pleaded. "You have to understand that Flightline is at risk of being attacked by the Kunar at any moment!"

"Stop with the lies, assassin!" Ovril barked back. "Just admit that you lost. You were sloppy, and now you'll suffer. Besides, Regal would never be foolish enough to jeopardize the High Prime or the Collective after his push to split the powers. It would weaken him as well."

"Do you even hear what you're saying?" Nox shouted. "If we go to war, the Kunar are entering the conflict with species dedicated entirely to their victory. They don't need you, or anyone else that didn't want to join their side. If you want data, then take it."

Nox waved her wrist and sent a stream of particles over to Ovril's desk. Ovril jumped back in surprise and the enforcers charged their rifles. "What did you just do?" Ovril asked.

Zaius could feel the heat of the rifle against his nose and cheeks. "Nox, we're trying to diffuse the situation, not make it worse."

"I just sent over a packet of data I copied to my MenXhip," Nox explained. "It's the Kunar's plans for attacking you and the Chyl. There's even stuff on something called 'Project Aether Jump'."

Ovril's expression fell into serious concern. "Where did you hear about that project? That is top-line classified information known only to me and a select few others."

"She told you, we got it from the Kunar," Zaius reiterated. "They've been hunting us down across the system. Is that something we need to worry about?"

Ovril went to his desk and opened up the data packet. His eyes narrowed as he parsed through it all. Finally, he closed it, then smashed his fist into his desk. "Damn them!" He screeched. His face somehow managed to turn even redder. "Regal, you sneak. T'Nashi, Kordren, stand down."

The enforcer in front of Zaius, who he assumed was Kordren, let go of him and stepped back, putting down his rifle. The one holding Nox did the same.

"I need to contact Chancellor Gallard immediately," Ovril stated as he typed away at his holo-pad.

Zaius tilted his head in confusion. "What do you mean? Isn't he a member of the High Prime as well? Shouldn't he be here?"

"Gallard left for Vensha after being notified of a potential attack from his intelligence officers. I didn't think anything of it," Ovril explained as he continued typing, his face buried in his pad.

Nox moved over to Zaius and leaned in. "The timeline doesn't make sense," She told him. "We just got to Flightline. Vensha was closer to where we separated the Nova, but not close enough to where Diah could get home, send a warning out, and her representative head over. He would have had to leave before we even split apart. How would they have known without our data?"

Zaius' stomach sunk at the realization. "This whole thing was a set up."

________________________________________________________________________

Diah felt the eyes of every Alis member bore into her as she stood. Her heart beat faster. How her mother handled such attention and even led others through it, she could never understand. She took a breath and cleared her throat.

"I agree with many of the members assembled here that public safety for the people of Liotik and the planet of Vensha is what matters the most. Senator Mazza is correct. We do not have the resources to wage a war between Marks and the Kunar. We must choose which is more important in this instance: our cultural ideals or our species as a whole. To me, it doesn't matter what our birthright is or is not if we're all returned to the soil. As such, I propose that we come together despite our cultural differences and formulate a truce with Solstice and the Low Marks."

The Alis erupted into another, more verbally violent, frenzy.

"Silence!" Wyrna shouted across the chambers. The intensity of her voice caught Diah off guard. "I will not let you sit here and chastise my own child or her ideas in front of me!"

Gallard glanced over the room in panic. "Wyrna, I can tell this matter is weighing on you. Please, let me take over."

"No!" Wyrna fumed. She pointed her finger in an arcing motion across the chambers. "I have had to sit and listen to everyone here spill their filth and spout their plans for saving us, yet not a single one of those plans involves stepping in of your own accord."

Diah could feel a familiar intensity radiating off of her mother. A chill ran down her spine.

"The only thing you insects want to do is crawl under a rock," Wyrna continued. "You want to run and hide. You want to put others in front of you as your shield."

"That is quite enough, Speaker Nollak!" Senator Mazza bellowed as he stood. "I call for a motion to withdraw Speaker Nollak from the meeting and replace her with Chancellor Gallard."

"Mother, what are you doing?" Diah asked in a hushed tone.

Wyrna ignored her and continued her tirade. "You want to call for a motion, Senator Mazza? I know exactly what you can do with your motion! You do not understand real, raw power. None of you do! True power lies in complete control. For too long, you let the Low Marks run amok. We could have been rid of them from the very start. Cleansed them and their filth from this planet. Now we face a war on two fronts, except I have already made the decision to do what's right for us all."

Gallard moved in front of Wyrna. "Wyrna, what exactly do you me-"

"I said silence!" Wyrna screamed. "You want power? You want control? You make sure that none of your enemies are brave enough to fight back. You, my dear sweet Alis, are no longer necessary in the new Chyl world I am creating. You can take your place with the Low Marks in the ground."

Diah stepped up toward her mother and caught sight of the sadistic smile that haunted her dreams. The glass around the Alis shattered from both ends as Kunar Reclaiments busted through. No one had time to react to the spray of laser fire that ensued.

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Zaius' attention jumped to the window behind Ovril as a Kunar ship suddenly appeared in the empty space. It was the biggest warship he had ever seen, at least eight times the size of a regular Kunar flagship. Blue lights pulsated down the side and the gaping maw at the ship's front swarmed with fighters. Hundreds of smaller fleet ships began to blink into existence around it.

"Sir, behind you!" Kordren warned.

Ovril lifted his face from the holo-pad and looked out the window. He stumbled back in terror at the sight. Station alarms began to ring above the group. The lights on the ship flashed rapidly four times, and a pod of missiles shot out toward the window.