The Tigrens' Glory (29 page)

Tristan grinned at the simplicity of it, then frowned.  “Why couldn’t you tell us this earlier?”  Darck frowned at him, his face darkening, but Tristan shook his head.  “I meant no insult to your mate, Brother.  I am only curious how she just learned something she didn’t know earlier.”

Darck bowed slightly in apology for his temper.  “Narrasti have something they call
racial
memories
.  Most do, anyway.  I don’t, but Thelba does, and she’s quite good at accessing them.”

“I’d like to hear more about that later, but for now, how are you going to go about giving them the order to stand down?” Gray asked.  “Sound doesn’t travel in space so using speakers to amplify your voice won’t work, and it’s not like you can just walk up to them.”

Darck looked at Thelba, who frowned in thought.  “The
Erekorra,”
she said.  “Is it here?”

“Yes, it’s in the ship’s vault,” Tristan said.  “Do you need it?”

“Yes,” Thelba said, grinning from ear to ear.  “We will use it to speak to the space swimmers.”

“I thought it was a recording device,” Tristan said after Jon left to get the
Erekorra
from the vault.

“It is,” Thelba replied.  “It was used to record what the space swimmers saw.  But, it was also used to give them orders by reversing the flow of information.”

Jon appeared holding a padded box containing the large, egg shaped crystal.  Darck took the box from him and gazed at the
Erekorra
for a long moment.  “What do I do with it?” he asked Thelba. 

“Give me a second,” Thelba said.  Everyone quieted while she went into what looked like another trance, this one much shorter than the first.  When she opened her eyes again she was frowning.  “Reversing the information flow will be easy enough,” she said.  “I’ll have to send Darck’s command into it, and then out to each of the space swimmers.  I’m afraid I’m not strong enough to do that from this distance.  Can we get closer?”

“Narrasti magic repels us too strongly for us to get any closer than we are now,” Tristan said.

“Can we get on that ship?” Thelba asked, pointing at the
Megalodon
through the viewport.

“Let’s find out,” Tristan said.

Jung Del stood on the bridge of the
Megalodon
, trying to think of a way to take out the three sugea responsible for the shield that surrounded Xantara.  As long as that shield remained in place, no Jasani could even come within firing range.  The
Megalodon
was able to get closer only because there were no Jasani aboard.  This was the reason the Jasani had brought him.  The one task that he’d given his word to perform.  And so far, he was failing.  He’d already thrown everything he had at the sugeas and the shield.  Every laser, missile, and cannon shot was vaporized before it reached one of the damn things.  He was beginning to become annoyed.

“Lord Jung Del,” Sidley called from the communications station at the far side of the bridge.  “The
Eyrie
requests a moment of your time.”

“Display, please,” Jung Del said, hoping the Falcorans had a fresh idea for him.  A moment later the image of First Admiral Tristan Falcoran was on the large screen embedded in the wall over Sidely’s head.  And he was smiling.  Jung Del bowed politely, hope rising within him.

“Greetings, Admiral,” he said. 

“Greetings, Lord Jung Del,” Tristan replied.  “We have a solution for handling the sugea, but we’re too far away from it, and can’t get closer.  Would you mind accepting two Narrasti aboard your ship for a short period of time?”

“No, Admiral, I have no objections at all,” Jung Del replied.  “Can you speed travel them over?”

“If you’ll back away from the shield, we can, yes,” Tristan said.

Jung Del gave the order, his fins tightening with anticipation.  It had been millions of years since his ancestors stepped from a Marrazon sea onto dry land and taken their first breath of air, marking a momentous change for his people.  But many things had not changed.  He still had gills.  He still had fins.  And he still had his predatory instincts.  Instincts that had just gotten a whiff of blood in the water.  Xanti blood. 

***

The Katres and the Gryphons stared at the shimmering red shield surrounding Xantara through the
Vyand’s
observation port.  They’d just listened to a general message from Admiral Tristan informing the entire task force that Darck Narrasti was about to deactivate the sugea.

“You were so right, Aisling,” Summer murmured softly.  “As far as we’ve come, we would have been turned back right here if we hadn’t brought the Narrasti with us.”

“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Aisling said.  “Darck hasn’t done it yet.”

“He will,” Olaf said confidently.  “Summer is correct.  If you hadn’t convinced us to heed the words and warnings of the prophecies, the Xanti would win this battle without even having to fight.  I am very proud of you,
Bilara
.” 

“We are all proud of you,” Maxim Katre said.  “As we are proud of all our Arimas.”

Aisling blushed as she leaned back into Olaf’s arms, uncomfortable with so much praise, while at the same time, warmed by it.  Her breath caught in her throat as a huge section of the shimmering shield began to flicker.  Everyone saw it, and for a long moment no one breathed.  Seconds later, the flickering stopped, the shimmering vanished, and one third of the shield was gone.

“What did he do?” Olaf asked, but no one had an answer.  They watched quietly as the
Megalodon
moved out of sight behind Xantara.  A few minutes later, another section of the shield flickered and went out.  While they waited for the final section to go down, Admiral Tristan’s voice came through the speakers once more.  While he explained how Darck and Thelba were taking the shield down, the last section flickered and vanished.

“As we said,” Olaf whispered to Aisling, “we are proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Aisling said, kissing him lightly on the jaw.  “Okay, what next?”

“First we’ll destroy the communication satellites,” Olaf said, pointing at the diagram displayed within the viewport.  “After that, we’ll go to the near moon where the biggest power plants are located and take them out, then we’ll hit those on the other moon.”

***

Xaqana-Ti sat staring at the vid screen before her in absolute shock as she struggled to process the battle vids attached to the message she’d just received from Xi-Kung.  She’d become very suspicious of her two remaining sisters over the past few days, but never would she have believed either of them to be capable of what she’d just seen.  It made no sense.  It was one thing to plot and maneuver against one another in an effort to win the great game, but there were limits that even she would never cross.  Such as aiding and abetting their enemies which, by destroying such a large percentage of Xanti ships within the Thousand Worlds, they’d most certainly done. 

Whoever became the next Supreme Queen would have a very deep hole to dig out of.  Did they not realize that?  Or did their personal greed outweigh their common sense?  Narliq-Li did not possess that level of ambition, she knew.  But Zarnia-Te did. 

Had Zarnia-Te convinced Narliq-Li that she, Xaqana-Ti, plotted against her?  Maybe.  Probably.  Not that the
why
of it mattered.  What mattered was stopping them before they caused any more damage.

She raised one foreleg to the control board to send a message to the Supreme Queen when another message lit up her screen.  Like Xi-Kung’s message of a few minutes before, this one was marked Urgent, High Priority.  She was surprised to see that the message came not from one of her battle ships or cruisers, but from a fuel transport.  With a feeling of deep dread, she opened the message. 

Moments later, for the first time in her existence, Xaqana-Ti came very close to panic.  According to the captain of the fuel transport, there was a full Jasani task force not only within their galaxy, but heading straight for Xantara.  It was the threat to the entire Xanti civilization that helped her to hang onto her reasoning mind, instead of spinning herself a cocoon to hide in as her baser instincts were insisting she do.

She hit the forward key, then typed in the Queen Mother’s personal comm code and hit
send
.  A system error message flashed across the screen.  She froze, refusing to allow her frustration and rage to spiral out of control.  Moving slowly and deliberately, she rebooted the system, then calmly waited for it to come back online.  She opened her message screen and again attempted to forward her message to the Queen Mother.  Just after another message informing her that the satellites were down flashed on the screen, the power went out. 

Xaqana-Ti froze, her mind racing.  Satellites down.  Power down.  That could only mean that the shield was down, leaving Xantara completely defenseless.

Without wasting a moment, she scrambled out of her private nest and raced through the tunnels of her hive toward the surface as fast as she could move.  She’d intended to use her personal transport system to reach the Palace Hive for the meeting set to take place in just a few short hours.  Without the planetary power grid, that was down, just like everything else.  If she hurried, a ground transport should be able to get her there in time to warn the Queen Mother to go deep for safety.  She hoped her sisters were hurrying toward the Palace Hive, too.  They would have to hide, all of them, until the threat hanging over their heads passed.  Then, as always, the Xanti would rise again.  But first, they had to survive.

Chapter Twenty Four

Kyerion sat on the cold floor, his back against the front wall of the enormous room, eyes closed as he tried to rest.  His body was trembling with exhaustion and, like everyone else, he desperately needed food and water.  His skin itched from the dried fluid that coated his body, and his hair was so stiff and sticky that it scratched his back when he moved.  He could hear, in the distance, as others continued to search the building for more survivors.  He told himself that he would go and help in a few minutes.  He just needed to rest a little while longer. 

Suddenly, he sensed that he was being watched.  He opened his eyes to see three strange creatures standing before him.  They had dark blue skin, six eyes, and a few more arms than Kyerion was used to seeing.  But then, many of the beings they’d removed from the tanks had been strange to his eyes, coming from different worlds and galaxies as they did.

“We are Garakai,” said the creature in the center of the three, bowing slightly, the movement revealing the tops of what appeared to be wings.

Kyerion’s eyes widened.  “How do you know our language?”

“Garakai know all languages,” the Garakai said.  “It is one of our gifts.  I heard you speaking earlier and recognized the language of Ugaztun.”

“I see,” Kyerion said, his mind too tired to think of anything cleverer to say.  He started to rise, but the Garakai waved two of his arms, indicating he should stay where he was.  He was exhausted, as were Kirk and Cade, so it was easy enough to comply.  They had not rested in many hours, and he didn’t even want to think about how long it’d been since they’d had food or water. 

“I am Kyerion, of Clan Tigren, and these are my brothers Kirk and Cade.”

The Garakai knelt down a few feet in front of them.  “I am called Tek, my brother Ri, and mate Minka.”  Kyerion nodded to Tek, then to each of the Garakai who remained standing behind him.  He couldn’t see the difference between the males and female, but was too polite to let his confusion show.  “If you will allow, we would gift you with the language now spoken in the Thousand Worlds called
Standard
,” Tek said.

“Gift us?” Kyerion asked, wondering how they could
give
them a language.

“It is to you we owe our freedom, and a chance for personal redemption,” Tek said.  “We would do this small thing in return to express our gratitude.  It will take but a moment, and will cause no pain or discomfort.”

Kyerion remembered Glory telling them that the common language was something called
Standard
.  They’d already experienced the frustration of being unable to verbally communicate with their fellow prisoners.  They had seven thousand years of catching up to do as it was.  The removal of the language barrier would be a huge help.  He took a moment to scan the Garakai with his Druid senses, but sensed only an honest desire to be of help, and beneath that, a deep well of sorrow.

“We accept your gift with thanks,” Kyerion said.

“Excellent,” Tek said, waving one arm toward his brother.  Ri stepped forward with a small silver object in one hand that he raised slowly to Kyerion’s temple.  Kyerion forced himself to remain still when the object touched his skin.  At first it was icy cold, but it warmed quickly.  Kyerion wasn’t sure what he’d expected to feel, but he was surprised that he felt nothing at all.  After a minute, Ri removed the object and stepped over to Kirk to repeat the procedure.

“How do you feel?” Tek asked.

“Fine,” Kyerion said.  “I didn’t feel anything.  Are you sure it worked?”

“You are speaking Standard now,” Tek said with mild amusement. 

Kyerion turned to Cade.  “Did you understand me?”

“I’ve no idea what you said, Brother,” Cade said with a tired grin.  “I guess it worked.”

Kyerion turned back to Tek.  “Thank you,” he said.  “How do we determine what language we’re speaking though?  I didn’t even know I was speaking Standard.”

“Your brain just needs a little time to assimilate the new language,” Tek said.  “A few minutes perhaps, an hour at most.  After that it will not be a problem.  I am curious, Kyerion.  How did you escape your hibernation tank?”

“A very special woman was able to walk our dreams, find our real location here, in this place, and at great risk to herself, free us,” Kyerion said. 

“Will you tell us this woman’s name so that we can forward it to our home world?” Tek asked.  “We would have her name honored by all of our people for all time.”