Thursday, December 10, 2009

[USS Charon] SD240912.10 || Personal Log "Nveid" || CHO - Sakarra Tyrax

 

[USS Charon, deck 3]
 
It was his fault. It was all his fault.
First father, then grandmother, then mother and everyone else. Everyone. And now these strangers.
He was cursed, he had to be. No matter what he did, the Demons always came back and killed more, and now they even killed the strangers who had just wanted to help them.
The boy sat huddled in a dark corner, hands wrapped around his knees, and dared not make a sound so that the Demons wouldn't find him. He knew they were here because he had seen them kill, and the lifeless bodies of two strangers were still over there, but his eyes were clouded with unshed tears and he could hardly see.
Maybe he should just let them find him. Maybe then they would kill him and the curse would be gone.
Grandmother would tell him he was being a silly boy for listening to his superstitious friends and that there was no such thing as a curse, and then she would make him tea and give him sweet pastries, and sing in that liquid, lilting language.
She wasn't here. She would never come back. And there would never be songs any more. There was only darkness now, and the blinking red light, and far off screams of pain and dying.
 
If only he knew how to fight. If only he could drive these demons back to wherever they had come from. But the last time they had come and he had tried, they had laughed, not like happy people laugh, but cruelly, and had thrown him over a wall like one tosses away garbage or a bug that had annoyed you. If it hadn't been a garden he had landed in, mother had said, and soft grass, it might have been worse than a broken arm. What could be worse, he had asked, than the Demons taking grandmother? Now he knew.
 
They had said it on the little ship where he had been hiding, a Rihannsu voice had said that everyone was gone.
Curled up in the middle of all the food in the silvery wrappings, he thought his heart had to break. When he had first found it, it had tasted not bad at all, and he had wanted to carry as much as he could back to mother and his friends. Maybe the strangers wouldn't even have been angry, after all they'd given other things away freely. But then there had been shouting and running, and the ship had left, and he had hit his head. When he woke up, the strangers were fighting the demons and he knew in his heart that now they would die, too.
But they hadn't. No, the demons were too clever for that. They had let them live just a little longer so they could find the strangers' ship.
 
Cursed.
He rubbed the useless tears from his eyes, and a half eaten bar of the sweet food fell from his pocket. No more hiding, he swore to himself.
He was going to find a weapon, and he would go and hunt the Demons. If he was cursed and he would die, then it was good and the curse would die with him. If grandmother was right and curses were silly, he would probably die anyways but it didn't really matter, did it? There was no one left who would miss him.
And if Llaaseil had been right, and the Elements were just, maybe he would find his family in Vorta Vor again.
The boy thrust the food back into his pocket and scrambled to his feet. A weapon. Those poor dead strangers must have had weapons, right?
 
He heard the sound of heavy boots and gnashed his teeth. They were coming. But he would not hide any more.
Screaming with defiant rage, he ran out into the corridor, and for a moment, he must have actually startled them. They had backed someone into a corner, their heavy rifles pointed at what to the boy seemed no more than another child hidden behind the large frames of a male and female Demon.
When they heard him, they actually turned slightly and stopped what had sounded like an argument.
 
But then they laughed again, that cruel, heartless laugh and the boy ran at them, snarling. The closest demon wanted to swat him away like a fly, but the boy dug his nails into the thick, muscle-laden arm and kicked ferociously until he felt himself being thrown against something hard, and lights danced before his eyes.
"Fosh'uh, r'hi-dor'su."
The voice sounded familiar, and she used the words like grandmother, only this woman was much younger. Warm and lovely it had sounded before, he remembered that, but now it was angry. Very angry.
And still the demons laughed.
 
The boy's back was throbbing with pain, but he launched himself towards that laughter, and at first he thought it was a dream when he saw the head of one of the demons roll away, but then the woman spoke again and although he didn't understand the words, the meaning was clear.
Get out of the way.
He jumped.
Green light was lancing from the heavy weapon in the she-demon's hand but the little woman simply moved away. No, not simply, the boy thought, but it looked so easy, the way she turned and then her long limbs moved like in a blur and the second demon was dead.
 
Wide eyed, he looked up at the woman with the sword in her small hands, and she stood there, looking back at him, but listening. Listening for more demons?
"Kyi'i. Hi duhik." she said in a much softer voice and he recognized her. The pilot of the stranger's little ship, the one who had given Llaaseil the candy.
The thaessu.
In one wild, mad dash, he ran towards her and wrapped his arms around the woman. Alive. At least one that the demons hadn't gotten.
He could feel her wince and was afraid he might have hurt her, but he couldn't bring himself to let go. He needed to know she was real, that she was not just an image the demons had conjured up to torment him.
Small, for a grown woman, and she felt fragile even with a boy of his merely seven years clinging to her. But she was warm, so warm, and he could feel the heart beating in her side and when she talked again, it was stern but not unkind.
 
Blinking rapidly, the boy loosened his desperate grip and looked up into eyes as black as a mountain lake during the darkest night. She spoke again, and he shook his head, not comprehending. The woman quirked a brow and gently loosened his arms, but she did not let go of his hand, and he trailed after her, holding on to that hand, not much bigger than his own, as if it was a lifeline.
If there were any more demons, they were not close, although the woman moved so silently the boy winced at the noise his own footfalls made in the deserted corridor. No more shouting or screams, but the eerie stillness was almost worse.
The woman found a door and it opened obediently, but when she moved as if to usher him inside, he shook his head vigorously. No, no, he would not hide any more. He clung to her hand and pointed to her sword.
"Arhem ethrei."
This earned him another raised brow, and he thought he was going to truly go mad now, because he wanted to laugh at how pretty it was, and how this small woman with the bloodied sword  - and Elements, had she just gotten out of bed and was this really only her underwear ? - looked at him. So thoughtful, and so completely unshaken, but not at all like the thaessu grandmother had described who floated about in long, heavy robes and were gentle and peaceful. If the boy would have had to think of the image of an ancient warrior goddess, or a vengeful spirit, this woman bathed in the ship's red light and with a fire in her night black eyes would have fit pretty well.
 
At last, she nodded and moved off again, silently like a hunter in the forest, and when they came to a panel in the wall, she opened it and pulled out small weapons. When she motioned to him with the small things, he understood and began shoving as many as he could into his pockets, his shirt, and then held out his arms to carry more but she shook her head. The woman looked down at herself and huffed just a bit, and he found it the most wonderful sound he had heard in a long time because it was annoyed, but there was humor in it.
 
Finally, she took the last of the little weapons for herself and nodded for him to follow again. Another room, and this time he followed because he knew she was not going to leave him behind any more.
Long, slender fingers danced over another panel hat had lights, although many others didn't and the symbol of the strangers appeared on a flat, smooth surface. Then another. She nodded and touched one of them, but nothing happened and she made the "Hm" sound again, although this time it sounded a bit more unhappy.
Her hands flew over another screen, and he instinctively backed up when he saw her face ... not change. Just.. become like stone. It had to be the demons she was angry at and his heart went heavy with sorrow when he thought about what they might have done.
 
The thaessu woman seemed to think for what felt like only a few heartbeats and then decisively shut off the screen and picked up the two metal symbols, pinning one to the red fabric of her top and the other on his shirt.
He blinked in confusion, but she put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Do you understand me now?"
Blinking again, he nodded vigorously.
"Good."
She moved as if to leave, and he was ready to jump after her, but she stopped one more time, searching his face and he noticed a glint of recognition in her dark eyes, and then … sadness? For him? He swallowed the tears that suddenly wanted to spring up in his eyes again and held that steady, but fierce gaze.
"What is your name, sa-kan?"
"Nveid. I am called Nveid."
"Good."
 
 
 

[End Log]
 
Lieutenant Sakarra Tyrax
Chief Helm Officer
 
USS-Charon