Private Salvaged Friendships

[Daera Varias]

Karrigan'Xalda

Daera did not enjoy spaceflight. It was not so much she was afraid of space like she once been, nor that she had a religious objection to it…it was that she felt powerless. Now, there were times where she enjoyed feeling helpless, but those times had guardrails built in. No, right now she was flying through space with just a few centimetres of metal plating between her and a horrible frozen death in the void.

On the plus side no one was shooting at her…yet.



"Ma'am, we're beginning out descent? Objective?" the pilot called.

Daera's gave snapped back to the holomap. The arm of the Arx's commercial wing stretched before her. She remembered well this place, having fought through it a short while ago at the climax of the Firemane War. It looked a bit different now, being mostly ruins. Yet those ruins contained a lot of valuable gear and materials to salvage.

Daera assessed the map and made her decision. "Sector six, rim-ward of the old Kerrigan villa. There's an open area we can set down. Watch for danger."

"Yes, ma'am!"



Daera looked around at her unit. Her unit…that still hadn't fully sunk in. She had taken command when High Captain Caelnor has been killed in this very place, but it had only been a month ago when she was officially promoted to the rank and authority. She had thought she'd be elated, but instead she was more anxious about not messing up than ever. She wondered whether other commanders had these insecurities and just hid them, or if she was alone.

Knowing she had to say something as she reviewed her first company, stretching down the long transport. Then pulled up a microphone, to be relayed to the other transports.

"Soldiers of Galondrona, High Captain Varias speaking. Prepare for action. Our objective is to secure a perimeter so our engineers and experts can land, and then protect them. Look to your officers for direction. Rules of engagement are simple; free fire against hostile targets, do not engage civilians. May the Goddess bless us."



They were getting closer now, and through the holoprojector Daera could see clearly the ravages of war and neglect.

"Be advised, ma'am, other ships are heading towards the residential arm."

"On collision course with us?"

"No ma'am, sector four and five. Ships report Qadiri and captured Firemane tags, maybe Suquan?"

Daera pursed her lips. That complicated things a little. It made sense others would be seeking to claim the bounty of the wreck of Firemane's empire.

"Open a channel to their lead ship, and hail them. Tell them we do not seek confrontation, and we will stick to sector six and higher, and they can stick to sector five and lower."

Since the arm was split into ten sectors, one for each kilometre, this would be an even split. Indeed, it might even be advantageous to the other ship.

Daera waited to see if the other vessel would return their hail, and if they wanted to negotiate with her.

 

[Karrigan'Xalda]

Daera Varias

Space had always disconcerted Xalda. It was dark, yet its darkness lacked any of the comfort and safety shadows of the Underealm. It was just a fathomless, cold void without end, yet populated by horrors and the burning sun. Her eyes darted across her troop. Many were Qadiri, some were Xio and in the latter case mostly Daughters. Many of them bore prayer beads or other tokens, invoking their deities. Several of them had stood with her during the final battle. She remembered it well. The frenzy, the death, the flames and the pillage. They had been like a cleansing flame, casting down their oppressors, burning their skypalaces and staining the streets with blood.

Their transport shuddered as its speed picked up. The craft was a bulky, boxy thing. A Firemane vessel with the, as one mechanic had put it, 'serial numbers filed off', whatever that meant. One of the arms of the 'Fortress of Eternity' loomed large ahead at them.

She rubbed the talisman, shaped like a serpent, around her neck as their transport began its descent. "Spirits of the sky, fire, earth, water and darkness, see us through this trial," she chanted, voice rising, "let no demon claim us, be we Xio or Qadiri, do not allow our souls to be lost in the cold void. Great Karishzar, preserve us, fortify our minds and make our blades strike true." There were murmurs among some of the warriors. "The void is cold, the void is heartless, and we defy it!"

"And we conquer it," a wiry and fierce looking Qadiri woman spoke as she walked down the long line. Zokala Jai Adshal. A long scar ran across her cheek. "As we did once before. Remember how the sky people mocked us, how they scorned us together with the fancy ladies who called us dirt? If Kashara is with us, who can be against us? Prepare for battle, warriors. The first came, we came here for retribution. Today, we come to take what is owed us. Let's dine like locusts, pick the line clean. We take all we can for our people in the ruins and tents. Protect our engineers and specialists, strike swiftly against anyone who opposes us. The surviving humans should have all fled...if we encounter any, they're our enemy."

"Ma'am," the pilot, a Qadiri who had ironically been trained by Firemane, called out. "Another transport is hailing us. An Eldorai vessel. They say they don't want a confrontation."
"So they say all the time," Xalda remarked. "Where are they going?"
"They say they're heading for sector six, and won't oppose us if we don't go higher than five."
"Closer to the hinge, it makes access to the other arms easier," Xalda observed, looking thoughtful.
Zokala folded her arms. "Why the uncharacteristic generosity? Do they know something we don't?" she gazed at her warriors. Was she sending them into great peril? "Hail them. Ask for the name of their commander."