Z
Zack
The journey away from the main city was a lot like every other on the planet, a sort of muddy sand was below them the entire way, making it difficult to slog through. There was the occasional hill, sometimes a tree, and the occasional patch of fungus or mold that seemed to stretch out as far as the eye could see. Things would only get worse when it started to get dry, the mud giving way to sand which was picked up by the winds and that could turn into large clouds at any moment. Small towns and villages were known to disappear entirely into these sand storms, and the only real places of refuge were the mountains that broke up through the mud and sand to form a solid foundation. It was here that the pair would finally be able to take a break, and remove the coats and scarves that made it hard to talk during the journey.
Ned was fairly quiet for most of the journey to the impressive mountain that gave solace to the weary travelers, his tall, slightly hunched form seeming to cut through the sandy storms with a sort of practiced grace that one who lived on the fringes of the civilization tended to have when faced with the elements daily. When he finally reached a certain steep part of the cliff face that blocked the wind, the eccentric hermit loosened his scarf slightly and began poking a few of the rocks with his walking stick. "Hmm... now where was that..."
Aaron was quiet also, considering the man he followed. There was more to the old coot than he had ever suspected before. He knew he was wise and intelligent, but how could he possibly know the whereabouts of some alien suit of armor? There was the possibility it was some ancient artifact from their colony ship. When he stopped Aaron looked around in confusion. "I don't see anything.. Are you sure this is the spot?" The look on his face made it clear he was questioning this journey as well as Ned's sanity, although he readsized that's how he sounded before the aliens came. "Sorry, Ned.. Let me help." He said, kneeling down to dig through the rocks.
The old man mumbled a 'thank you' to Aaron, as the two of them working together managed to clear away some of the smaller rocks and windswept debris from the spot Ned had been poking at. Beneath the pile was something that was obviously very different than the surrounding stone, a sand-encrusted trap door made of rusty iron. A U-shaped handle to pull it open was affixed to the front, along with a round black dial like the combination lock one would find on a safe. His guide smiled slowly, "Ah, there it is... been so long I'd almost forgotten. Give me a second to get it open... had to keep out thieves, you know."
Ned placed a hand on the knob and began alternating turning to the left and to the right, cycling through a series of numbers. It was pretty obvious that he had installed the thing by how easy he made it look -- there definitely was no need to try to force this safe open with him around. Watching the elder's thin hands move, Aaron would see the combination lining up: 1-8-8-6-0-4... and then a click as the tumblers unlocked.
Part of him was shocked when the trap door was finally located. Aaron had to admit, Ned picked a great hiding spot. He wondered how long this had all been sure. Surely he couldn't have built this himself? The man could barely walk. If he really had an armor like the invaders, that gives enhanced abilities as the Scientist said, then it might be possible. The ease with which the old man unlocked it left little doubt he'd built it. The combination sparked his curious mind. "I have to say, Ned, that is a great spot for a secret hiding place. Although.. 188604? Does that mean something special to you?" He asked quizzically.
Ned opened the heavy door with some effort, as it made a cloud of dust when it hit the ground opposite the opening, nearly sending the old man onto his rump as well. Beyond it there was a passageway to an underground cavern, as moist, but surprisingly clean smelling air released from it hit the nostrils. The hermit coughed once and brushed some dust off himself, before regarding Aaron. "Oh, believe me, its quite an important number, my boy. Especially to our alien friends. Come inside and I'll tell you a little story about it..."
The eccentric guide soon slipped into the man-made opening in the rock face, landing on the stone floor below and beckoning to his young companion to join him. It was understandably dark down here, but some ways down the rocky corridor was a flickering light accompanied by the sound of rhymic squeaking and water flowing. There was no smell of burning torches or oil, though, so something else must have been generating it.
Grant moved to catch Ned when he fell. His assistance was a moment too late. "Careful there Ned, don't hurt yourself." He said with genuine concern. Clearly he thought the older man was far more feeble than he really was. "I'll do my best to remember it, then." He replied to Ned. His guide's quick recovery surprised him. In the future he would take care not to underestimate Ned anymore. With a slight sense of apprehension Aaron followed him into the cave.
He cautiously made his way down the corridor. While he walked he wondered what was giving off that light if not oil. It didn't seem very likely to him that somehow electricity was being generated in this cave. The sound of flowing water reminded him of how thirsty he was after this journey. His canteen had run dry an hour ago and the heat was oppressive. The coolness of the cave was making him feel much better already.
Aaron didn't have far to look to find the source of the sound, as up ahead he could spy what looked like a tiny waterfall coming from up above them and dribbling down to eye level. But where one would expect a pool to be forming on the floor underneath it, the runoff instead was routed through hastily constructed metallic channels that ran at a slight downward slope along both walls. At intervals along the way, the flowing water was pushing tiny waterwheels that were each hooked up to a small magnet that rotated slowly, pulsing just enough mechanical energy to heat up a tiny copper filament in a glass globe above it. The light they made pulsed an orangy glow, like an earthy heartbeat.
Ned gave a wrinkled smile across his angular features to Aaron, as he walked the path forward slowly and methodically, admiring the handiwork on the dynamo circuit a few times with a rubbing of his chin. "Oh, you've known it your whole life, you just never realized it... being born here, it's the identifier of your home. This dusty orb in the far reaches of the stars, an unremarkable frontier footnote." He gave a short chuckle, then straightened a water wheel that was squeaking particularly loud, the light level increasing somewhat as it was brought into better alignment. "Rather uncreative though, don't you think? Probably the first thing our new overlords are going to change."
Aaron barely resisted the urge to submerge his head in the tiny waterfall. His eyes followed the water's path, and he was amazed by the genius of Ned's design. "This is quite a marvel. Did you make the metal for this yourself?" He asked curiously. The rest of what Ned said hit him suddenly. "Wait.. How could you possibly know.." He turned slowly towards Ned wide-eyed. "You.. Are you.. From another world too?"
"The underground stream was already here, I just gave it a nudge in a more useful direction," he commented, as if this was nothing too extraordinary compared to what he had seen in his long life. He waited patiently for the realization to sink into Aaron's consciousness of what he said before, and finally saw that wide-eyed stare in the artifical light with a bit of satisfaction. "...starting to finally figure it out are you, m'boy? I guess you could indeed say I'm 'not from 'round these parts'."
Come to think of it, the way the tinted glow played off his paler, foreign-seeming face...his unusually tall form despite the hunching... and surprisingly eloquent speech at times, Ned had always stood out. Perhaps Aaron just hadn't made all the connections until this moment, caught up in his rush to spread his revolutionary ideals. Scrutinizing the hermit in a literally new light, the young man also noticed something odd about the way his thick coat hung about his back, always following his movements with a bit of awkwardness. Was he truly a wizened old human man or was there something grotesque and alien potentially hidden underneath it?
For a moment Grant was stunned speechless. He considered everything he had ever known about Ned. That aliens could pass for human wasn't something he had considered until the metal men arrived and taken off their armor. He thought until then that whatever came out of that cocoon had to be grotesque tentacle monstrosity from his worst nightmare. But if they were like humans maybe they could be reasonable. Maybe they didn't need to resist them. The leader did kill a lot of good people. Then again they ended the corrupt and ineffective leadership of the Osmans.
As the mental debate continued in his companion's mind, Ned took a few more steps forward towards the waterfall that was the source of the clear fluids driving the lit passageway. He raised a hand up through the flow and to the rock face underneath it, resting a palm there for a moment and sighing. "I was going to reveal all of this to you eventually... but it seems the arrival of our visitors has changed those plans." The rock under his palm seemed to glow for a second, and the wall split suddenly with a crack. Inch by inch each opposing half of the apparent stony facade slid slowly to the side to reveal something very different underneath it.
Staring through the trickling waters back at Grant was a suit of armor like none he had ever seen before, slightly taller than even the old man. There were no hard edges or rough angles to speak of like traditional metalwork -- everything about the humanoid shape was made in impossibly beautiful curves, the surface a glossy white, with bands of sky blue across the chest. It's forearms were large and bulky, housing some type of generators or other weapons, including short blades on the knees and arms. But the most impressive part of all was the fact that it had... wings, bristling with rounded pods where feathers would be. The angelic and alien technology was standing upright at attention, the sculpted "face" blank and waiting, as it had done for many years.
Ned speaking suddenly snapped him out of his thoughts. He was considering whether or not he should be wary of Ned. His lack of trust had nearly cost him a valuable asset at the resistance meeting. Besides if this was all true Ned could have killed him years ago when he first discovered the cocoon. This time he decided to take a leap of faith. "Ned.. You could have told me sooner. But I am glad you decided you could trust me enough to reveal yourself. I didn't give Rubi that trust and now she's angry. I hope she can forgive me. The resistance needs her." Grant said, his voice full of regret.
His jaw dropped when the old alien man touched a rock and it glowed. Then the rocky wall opened up to reveal the majestic alien armor. He walked towards it slowly admiring the amazing craftsmanship. Finally his eyes reached the wings. He remembered the reports of an angelic being destroying both armies the day the metal men arrived. "Wings.." Grant muttered, suddenly thinking about the thick coat Ned wore and the strange way it hung off his back. "Does that mean.. You have wings?"
Ned looked at the armor for a moment with a distant expression, tracing a few of its lines as he was reminded of the past and events that ahd brought him here. Yes, he wasn't one of the humans, as much as he had gotten good at pretending at it. Patricians pretending to be plebians was something usually reserved for a theatre tragedy. So when Grant put things together about the wing sheathes of the armor and asked the obvious, the old man gave a weary smile and obliged, slowly removing his sand-caked outer garment...
From underneath the thick coat emerged a pair of thick, feathery wings. They pointed upward with what almost seemed a relieved stretching motion, now freed of their bonds. The plumage upon them was a fine pearl hue, tinged with hints of light blue that conjured the image of the purest waters. He wore a set of silken robes in the same pure white, crossed with bands and an outer layer of a deep, reflective purple. Ned the hermit was no more -- suddenly transformed into what legends would call an angelic being, though the sight of him did not inspire fear as the other did. "Yes, Aaron. These are real... but you don't have to be afraid. I'm what is known as an Elysian -- a race of winged humanoids that once discovered this planet many years ago."
For a moment Aaron could only stare at Ned's wings. After a minute of silence he finally found his tongue. "Wel I'm glad it was just wings. I'm not sure what I would have done if you revealed two extra arms or even tentacles." He said jokingly. "Do you mind if I touch the.. your wings?"
The elder Elysian gave a slight chuckle, thinking immediately of Abwehrans and Mishhuvurthyar. To be so innocent! "Oh, well, perhaps one day you will meet folks like that," Ned began as the tall Patrician extended a wing towards his hand in peace. "But for now, you've got many other interesting aliens already banging down the door to this little world with ill will in their hearts. My intentions here were much more benign... in short, more a consequence of fate that brought me to your planet than any grand designs."
Aaron touched his wing gently at first before feeling the musculature beneath them. "They are much stronger than they look." He noted as he examined the wing. "Wel you certainly aren't as frightening as the other.. Elysian." He said, trying out the new word. He shook his head no in response to Ned's first statement. "I don't think I would enjoy meeting something like that. But I am curious about why you came here." He paused for a second. "And the cocoon I found. That was what brought you here? What was it exactly? The scientist had theories.. Was he right?"
"I believe all these questions could be answered if I tell you the rest of my tale then," the Patrician spoke as he assumed a very reserved face, recounting not so ancient history to Aaron. "To begin with, my name is not really 'Ned'... but rather, I am Azariel Nereopolous. An elder Patrician of a family of engineers, and a former statesman of the blessed Elysian Celestial Empire and its illustrious Senate." He nodded his head respectfully, as if this carried the weight of a diety. "Yes, I did say former. You see, there was a time when our nation was strong and proud, and waged four great Wars against the rival Yamatai Star Empire, and their genetically engineered cat-hybrid soldiers called the Nekovalkyrja. However, seven years ago when our people were devastated by an insidious force called the NMX -- lead by such feared tentacled monstrosities -- the Elysian people were defeated and forced to become a vassal to our old foes in exchange for protection."
Azariel sighed heavily before he continued, suddenly feeling his age amidst the emotions clawing back. "I was part of the Senate comittee which vocally opposed such a Suzerainty, preferring to fight to the last as pride and our God would demand. Unfortunately, many of my fellow Patricians were killed in a devious attack on the Senate itself during the NMX war, which would leave only those that favored capitulation and subservience to cast their vote unopposed. However, luck would have it that I discovered this plot and, fearing my life, fled my homeworld of Elysia Novus via small Concordia Class Scoutship into the western frontiers."
"Unfortunately, my escape did not go unnoticed and we were persued deep into the unexplored territories by a heavily armed NMX escort vessel. My spaceship was destroyed in battle over your world with all hands lost save myself, who as the Prefectii managed to escape in time in this suit of Hikael power armor and crash landed on the surface of 188604." The Elysian stretched his wings once, indicating a direction. "So, your scientists are correct... the thing you call a 'cocoon' is actually an escape pod from my vessel that misfired and was pulled in by the planet's gravity, and nearly destroyed your home in the process. For this, you have my deepest apologies."
Azariel bowed his balding head, before adding: "Since that time I have tried to remain here relatively unnoticed as 'Ned', and passed my days studying your planet's unique geology and biology. So too did I watch your struggles unfolding, and as much as I wanted to help you defeat the Osmans before, you can now fully understand why I had to ultimately remain on the sidelines. Revealing my existence is not something I'm doing lightly... but now there is little choice in the matter, for our conquerors will surely discover me one way or the other. This battle of liberation ahead of you is now much greater and more perilous... and to fight aliens, you are going to need an alien on your side, hmm?"
As Azariel began his tale, Aaron found a rocky outcropping and took a seat. He remained quiet until the Elysian finished speaking, taking a moment to absorb everything. "These tentacled beings, the NMX, were formidable if they could defeat your people. I wonder now if fighting these invaders is the right move. There are clearly much worse things out there, things that might be far less reasonable. Other than the initial assault I haven't seen anyone harmed." He said slowly. "I imagine you've dealt with people like this before.Do you think they will negotiate with me if I offer a surrender or will they just kill me?" Grant didn't realize until he finished speaking that he had referred to the invaders as people for the first time.
The Elysian rubbed his chin, in that pensive fashion that any elder, human or otherwise, would. "Our conquerors are most assuredly not such dread beasts, bent on destruction and enslavement for its own sake. No... they seem like a mixed mercenary force than any invading army, one that is likely here for material gains. The attack was merely to shock and awe your people into submission, that you would obey them willingly at least out of fear." Azariel then gazed at Aaron with his blue eyes. "But, you are much more valuable alive than dead, my boy. As a leader of men, if you can be bent to service, than scores of your fellows shall follow. In that way, you are protected from such an end... though, their leader -- if it is who I believe it is -- she is the one to be wary of treachery and murder."
Grant raised an eyebrow at the mention of the leader. It seemed an odd twist of fate that Azariel just happened to end up accidentally on this forgotten world that twenty some years later someone he knew would invade. "If I obey them it will not be out of fear. Their technology is very frightening, but now I know they are mortal like everyone else. I will serve them for the safety of this world if I must. This leader, how exactly do you know her?" He asked curiously. The idea that a woman could be so treacherous was strange to him, although Rubi certainly scared him sometimes. At least, she would if she were his enemy. The only woman he had ever been close to emotionally was Celest, and treachery wasn't really in her nature.
"Mmm.. though there exists methods to recreate a person following death that many space faring races are capable of, our bodies themselves as vessels are still quite mortal behind the raiments of high technology." It was likely a shock revealing the fact that aliens could in some way cheat death in such a way, making the spectre of old age seem meaningless in comparison. "I did not get a good look at her in the armor she wore, but the fighting style and the voice reminded me of a certain 'supersoldier' for hire that had crossed my path once before... an extremely old and dangerous Nekovalkyrja by the name of Uso Tasuki."
The previous revelations had been far less surprising than the ability to cheat death. Grant was stunned for a moment as his mind could hardly conceive of the idea. Coming from a world where Grant was almost considered old at 30 and death was a fact of life, it was unthinkable. "There exists a technology that can bring back the dead? Is this available to everyone out there?" He exclaimed, forgetting his original question. Then he remembered there were more pressing concerns. "Ah, yes, back to the matter at hand. What abilities do these Nekovalkyrja possess that make them so dangerous?"
"No, not to everyone," replied Azariel calmly. "It is a highly controlled technique reserved for only a select few, as you may have guessed. Though Yamatai does employ it for most of their population, making them able to change a body not unlike one would change a set of clothes." The look on the former senator's face seemed to lose some color. "The Nekovalkyrja are an extension of this technology, only perfected for warfare. An artifical body made to exceed that of a human in all respects of strength, speed, and durability... though they appear as attractive females, these deceptive creations are living weapons of their Empire's military might that has conquered many systems."
The winged alien glanced back at the white armor standing before him near the waterfall, letting go a sigh. "Uso... she was an older prototype of Yamatai's soldiers, one that is stronger than the lessers found in the rank and file today."
Grant was unsure how even with one armor in use the mercenary invaders could be defeated. Six or more of them, maybe they could do significant damage but one? Even out of her armor he wasn't even sure a direct hit would kill this Uso. "This planet must be quite unlucky then if they don't even make something like her anymore. I am hopeful now that maybe in that armor we could discuss some sort of truce without being shot on sight." He said as he walked over to the armor. "So, is a normal human like me able to work this armor even though I don't have wings?"
"It is possible," replied Azariel, as he opened the chest cavity of the armor to reveal the inner layers that one would step into. They were soft and warm, a bit like synthetic muscles. "Though this Hikael unit can adapt its interior to being operated by a Plebian -- roughly a human of your size -- without your own wings to stabilize the sheaths it may be difficult to balance properly, even with the sizeable strength enhancement." The elder rubbed his chin as he tested the servos of the extensions. "Modifying it by removing the Graser units and keeping them locked in folded position may improve the stability, but I will need some time to see if I can do it without proper tools." The former Senator then smiled wizenedly. "Naturally, you'd need a crash course in power armor piloting as well, hmm."
The rebel nodded his head. "A crash course without much crashing involved hopefully." He said, attempting to make a joke. Although some of Azariel's words were unfamiliar, Grant understood what he was saying. "It would be dangerous to confront them without the ability to get away quickly. I'm not sure we have the time for me to learn how to use this armor." He rubbed his chin as he turned to face Azariel. "I hate to suggest it, since you are much more valuable than I am with all of your knowledge.. Perhaps you could meet with their leader in my place and discuss the possibility of a truce. I would of course request that they not kill anyone else, unless it's in self-defense or enforcing the law. We need to establish a system of law as well."
The joke did not go entirely unnoticed, though his suggestion to meet with the leader did get a rise out of the elder Elysian's eyebrows visible in the warm light. "My boy... that may be an idea. I have played the games of statesmanship long before you were even born. I have quite damning information that could force Uso to think twice about detroying us... for sometimes, information is the most devestating weaponry of all." Azariel nodded a few times, as a plan began to form in the back of his mind. "Yes.. yes, a proper rule of law is much needed here. I know you had campaigned for this fact during your recruitment against the Osman monarchy. If we could establish a legal code, and bind their leaders into it... there is a chance of forming a rudimentary government."
Ned was fairly quiet for most of the journey to the impressive mountain that gave solace to the weary travelers, his tall, slightly hunched form seeming to cut through the sandy storms with a sort of practiced grace that one who lived on the fringes of the civilization tended to have when faced with the elements daily. When he finally reached a certain steep part of the cliff face that blocked the wind, the eccentric hermit loosened his scarf slightly and began poking a few of the rocks with his walking stick. "Hmm... now where was that..."
Aaron was quiet also, considering the man he followed. There was more to the old coot than he had ever suspected before. He knew he was wise and intelligent, but how could he possibly know the whereabouts of some alien suit of armor? There was the possibility it was some ancient artifact from their colony ship. When he stopped Aaron looked around in confusion. "I don't see anything.. Are you sure this is the spot?" The look on his face made it clear he was questioning this journey as well as Ned's sanity, although he readsized that's how he sounded before the aliens came. "Sorry, Ned.. Let me help." He said, kneeling down to dig through the rocks.
The old man mumbled a 'thank you' to Aaron, as the two of them working together managed to clear away some of the smaller rocks and windswept debris from the spot Ned had been poking at. Beneath the pile was something that was obviously very different than the surrounding stone, a sand-encrusted trap door made of rusty iron. A U-shaped handle to pull it open was affixed to the front, along with a round black dial like the combination lock one would find on a safe. His guide smiled slowly, "Ah, there it is... been so long I'd almost forgotten. Give me a second to get it open... had to keep out thieves, you know."
Ned placed a hand on the knob and began alternating turning to the left and to the right, cycling through a series of numbers. It was pretty obvious that he had installed the thing by how easy he made it look -- there definitely was no need to try to force this safe open with him around. Watching the elder's thin hands move, Aaron would see the combination lining up: 1-8-8-6-0-4... and then a click as the tumblers unlocked.
Part of him was shocked when the trap door was finally located. Aaron had to admit, Ned picked a great hiding spot. He wondered how long this had all been sure. Surely he couldn't have built this himself? The man could barely walk. If he really had an armor like the invaders, that gives enhanced abilities as the Scientist said, then it might be possible. The ease with which the old man unlocked it left little doubt he'd built it. The combination sparked his curious mind. "I have to say, Ned, that is a great spot for a secret hiding place. Although.. 188604? Does that mean something special to you?" He asked quizzically.
Ned opened the heavy door with some effort, as it made a cloud of dust when it hit the ground opposite the opening, nearly sending the old man onto his rump as well. Beyond it there was a passageway to an underground cavern, as moist, but surprisingly clean smelling air released from it hit the nostrils. The hermit coughed once and brushed some dust off himself, before regarding Aaron. "Oh, believe me, its quite an important number, my boy. Especially to our alien friends. Come inside and I'll tell you a little story about it..."
The eccentric guide soon slipped into the man-made opening in the rock face, landing on the stone floor below and beckoning to his young companion to join him. It was understandably dark down here, but some ways down the rocky corridor was a flickering light accompanied by the sound of rhymic squeaking and water flowing. There was no smell of burning torches or oil, though, so something else must have been generating it.
Grant moved to catch Ned when he fell. His assistance was a moment too late. "Careful there Ned, don't hurt yourself." He said with genuine concern. Clearly he thought the older man was far more feeble than he really was. "I'll do my best to remember it, then." He replied to Ned. His guide's quick recovery surprised him. In the future he would take care not to underestimate Ned anymore. With a slight sense of apprehension Aaron followed him into the cave.
He cautiously made his way down the corridor. While he walked he wondered what was giving off that light if not oil. It didn't seem very likely to him that somehow electricity was being generated in this cave. The sound of flowing water reminded him of how thirsty he was after this journey. His canteen had run dry an hour ago and the heat was oppressive. The coolness of the cave was making him feel much better already.
Aaron didn't have far to look to find the source of the sound, as up ahead he could spy what looked like a tiny waterfall coming from up above them and dribbling down to eye level. But where one would expect a pool to be forming on the floor underneath it, the runoff instead was routed through hastily constructed metallic channels that ran at a slight downward slope along both walls. At intervals along the way, the flowing water was pushing tiny waterwheels that were each hooked up to a small magnet that rotated slowly, pulsing just enough mechanical energy to heat up a tiny copper filament in a glass globe above it. The light they made pulsed an orangy glow, like an earthy heartbeat.
Ned gave a wrinkled smile across his angular features to Aaron, as he walked the path forward slowly and methodically, admiring the handiwork on the dynamo circuit a few times with a rubbing of his chin. "Oh, you've known it your whole life, you just never realized it... being born here, it's the identifier of your home. This dusty orb in the far reaches of the stars, an unremarkable frontier footnote." He gave a short chuckle, then straightened a water wheel that was squeaking particularly loud, the light level increasing somewhat as it was brought into better alignment. "Rather uncreative though, don't you think? Probably the first thing our new overlords are going to change."
Aaron barely resisted the urge to submerge his head in the tiny waterfall. His eyes followed the water's path, and he was amazed by the genius of Ned's design. "This is quite a marvel. Did you make the metal for this yourself?" He asked curiously. The rest of what Ned said hit him suddenly. "Wait.. How could you possibly know.." He turned slowly towards Ned wide-eyed. "You.. Are you.. From another world too?"
"The underground stream was already here, I just gave it a nudge in a more useful direction," he commented, as if this was nothing too extraordinary compared to what he had seen in his long life. He waited patiently for the realization to sink into Aaron's consciousness of what he said before, and finally saw that wide-eyed stare in the artifical light with a bit of satisfaction. "...starting to finally figure it out are you, m'boy? I guess you could indeed say I'm 'not from 'round these parts'."
Come to think of it, the way the tinted glow played off his paler, foreign-seeming face...his unusually tall form despite the hunching... and surprisingly eloquent speech at times, Ned had always stood out. Perhaps Aaron just hadn't made all the connections until this moment, caught up in his rush to spread his revolutionary ideals. Scrutinizing the hermit in a literally new light, the young man also noticed something odd about the way his thick coat hung about his back, always following his movements with a bit of awkwardness. Was he truly a wizened old human man or was there something grotesque and alien potentially hidden underneath it?
For a moment Grant was stunned speechless. He considered everything he had ever known about Ned. That aliens could pass for human wasn't something he had considered until the metal men arrived and taken off their armor. He thought until then that whatever came out of that cocoon had to be grotesque tentacle monstrosity from his worst nightmare. But if they were like humans maybe they could be reasonable. Maybe they didn't need to resist them. The leader did kill a lot of good people. Then again they ended the corrupt and ineffective leadership of the Osmans.
As the mental debate continued in his companion's mind, Ned took a few more steps forward towards the waterfall that was the source of the clear fluids driving the lit passageway. He raised a hand up through the flow and to the rock face underneath it, resting a palm there for a moment and sighing. "I was going to reveal all of this to you eventually... but it seems the arrival of our visitors has changed those plans." The rock under his palm seemed to glow for a second, and the wall split suddenly with a crack. Inch by inch each opposing half of the apparent stony facade slid slowly to the side to reveal something very different underneath it.
Staring through the trickling waters back at Grant was a suit of armor like none he had ever seen before, slightly taller than even the old man. There were no hard edges or rough angles to speak of like traditional metalwork -- everything about the humanoid shape was made in impossibly beautiful curves, the surface a glossy white, with bands of sky blue across the chest. It's forearms were large and bulky, housing some type of generators or other weapons, including short blades on the knees and arms. But the most impressive part of all was the fact that it had... wings, bristling with rounded pods where feathers would be. The angelic and alien technology was standing upright at attention, the sculpted "face" blank and waiting, as it had done for many years.
Ned speaking suddenly snapped him out of his thoughts. He was considering whether or not he should be wary of Ned. His lack of trust had nearly cost him a valuable asset at the resistance meeting. Besides if this was all true Ned could have killed him years ago when he first discovered the cocoon. This time he decided to take a leap of faith. "Ned.. You could have told me sooner. But I am glad you decided you could trust me enough to reveal yourself. I didn't give Rubi that trust and now she's angry. I hope she can forgive me. The resistance needs her." Grant said, his voice full of regret.
His jaw dropped when the old alien man touched a rock and it glowed. Then the rocky wall opened up to reveal the majestic alien armor. He walked towards it slowly admiring the amazing craftsmanship. Finally his eyes reached the wings. He remembered the reports of an angelic being destroying both armies the day the metal men arrived. "Wings.." Grant muttered, suddenly thinking about the thick coat Ned wore and the strange way it hung off his back. "Does that mean.. You have wings?"
Ned looked at the armor for a moment with a distant expression, tracing a few of its lines as he was reminded of the past and events that ahd brought him here. Yes, he wasn't one of the humans, as much as he had gotten good at pretending at it. Patricians pretending to be plebians was something usually reserved for a theatre tragedy. So when Grant put things together about the wing sheathes of the armor and asked the obvious, the old man gave a weary smile and obliged, slowly removing his sand-caked outer garment...
From underneath the thick coat emerged a pair of thick, feathery wings. They pointed upward with what almost seemed a relieved stretching motion, now freed of their bonds. The plumage upon them was a fine pearl hue, tinged with hints of light blue that conjured the image of the purest waters. He wore a set of silken robes in the same pure white, crossed with bands and an outer layer of a deep, reflective purple. Ned the hermit was no more -- suddenly transformed into what legends would call an angelic being, though the sight of him did not inspire fear as the other did. "Yes, Aaron. These are real... but you don't have to be afraid. I'm what is known as an Elysian -- a race of winged humanoids that once discovered this planet many years ago."
For a moment Aaron could only stare at Ned's wings. After a minute of silence he finally found his tongue. "Wel I'm glad it was just wings. I'm not sure what I would have done if you revealed two extra arms or even tentacles." He said jokingly. "Do you mind if I touch the.. your wings?"
The elder Elysian gave a slight chuckle, thinking immediately of Abwehrans and Mishhuvurthyar. To be so innocent! "Oh, well, perhaps one day you will meet folks like that," Ned began as the tall Patrician extended a wing towards his hand in peace. "But for now, you've got many other interesting aliens already banging down the door to this little world with ill will in their hearts. My intentions here were much more benign... in short, more a consequence of fate that brought me to your planet than any grand designs."
Aaron touched his wing gently at first before feeling the musculature beneath them. "They are much stronger than they look." He noted as he examined the wing. "Wel you certainly aren't as frightening as the other.. Elysian." He said, trying out the new word. He shook his head no in response to Ned's first statement. "I don't think I would enjoy meeting something like that. But I am curious about why you came here." He paused for a second. "And the cocoon I found. That was what brought you here? What was it exactly? The scientist had theories.. Was he right?"
"I believe all these questions could be answered if I tell you the rest of my tale then," the Patrician spoke as he assumed a very reserved face, recounting not so ancient history to Aaron. "To begin with, my name is not really 'Ned'... but rather, I am Azariel Nereopolous. An elder Patrician of a family of engineers, and a former statesman of the blessed Elysian Celestial Empire and its illustrious Senate." He nodded his head respectfully, as if this carried the weight of a diety. "Yes, I did say former. You see, there was a time when our nation was strong and proud, and waged four great Wars against the rival Yamatai Star Empire, and their genetically engineered cat-hybrid soldiers called the Nekovalkyrja. However, seven years ago when our people were devastated by an insidious force called the NMX -- lead by such feared tentacled monstrosities -- the Elysian people were defeated and forced to become a vassal to our old foes in exchange for protection."
Azariel sighed heavily before he continued, suddenly feeling his age amidst the emotions clawing back. "I was part of the Senate comittee which vocally opposed such a Suzerainty, preferring to fight to the last as pride and our God would demand. Unfortunately, many of my fellow Patricians were killed in a devious attack on the Senate itself during the NMX war, which would leave only those that favored capitulation and subservience to cast their vote unopposed. However, luck would have it that I discovered this plot and, fearing my life, fled my homeworld of Elysia Novus via small Concordia Class Scoutship into the western frontiers."
"Unfortunately, my escape did not go unnoticed and we were persued deep into the unexplored territories by a heavily armed NMX escort vessel. My spaceship was destroyed in battle over your world with all hands lost save myself, who as the Prefectii managed to escape in time in this suit of Hikael power armor and crash landed on the surface of 188604." The Elysian stretched his wings once, indicating a direction. "So, your scientists are correct... the thing you call a 'cocoon' is actually an escape pod from my vessel that misfired and was pulled in by the planet's gravity, and nearly destroyed your home in the process. For this, you have my deepest apologies."
Azariel bowed his balding head, before adding: "Since that time I have tried to remain here relatively unnoticed as 'Ned', and passed my days studying your planet's unique geology and biology. So too did I watch your struggles unfolding, and as much as I wanted to help you defeat the Osmans before, you can now fully understand why I had to ultimately remain on the sidelines. Revealing my existence is not something I'm doing lightly... but now there is little choice in the matter, for our conquerors will surely discover me one way or the other. This battle of liberation ahead of you is now much greater and more perilous... and to fight aliens, you are going to need an alien on your side, hmm?"
As Azariel began his tale, Aaron found a rocky outcropping and took a seat. He remained quiet until the Elysian finished speaking, taking a moment to absorb everything. "These tentacled beings, the NMX, were formidable if they could defeat your people. I wonder now if fighting these invaders is the right move. There are clearly much worse things out there, things that might be far less reasonable. Other than the initial assault I haven't seen anyone harmed." He said slowly. "I imagine you've dealt with people like this before.Do you think they will negotiate with me if I offer a surrender or will they just kill me?" Grant didn't realize until he finished speaking that he had referred to the invaders as people for the first time.
The Elysian rubbed his chin, in that pensive fashion that any elder, human or otherwise, would. "Our conquerors are most assuredly not such dread beasts, bent on destruction and enslavement for its own sake. No... they seem like a mixed mercenary force than any invading army, one that is likely here for material gains. The attack was merely to shock and awe your people into submission, that you would obey them willingly at least out of fear." Azariel then gazed at Aaron with his blue eyes. "But, you are much more valuable alive than dead, my boy. As a leader of men, if you can be bent to service, than scores of your fellows shall follow. In that way, you are protected from such an end... though, their leader -- if it is who I believe it is -- she is the one to be wary of treachery and murder."
Grant raised an eyebrow at the mention of the leader. It seemed an odd twist of fate that Azariel just happened to end up accidentally on this forgotten world that twenty some years later someone he knew would invade. "If I obey them it will not be out of fear. Their technology is very frightening, but now I know they are mortal like everyone else. I will serve them for the safety of this world if I must. This leader, how exactly do you know her?" He asked curiously. The idea that a woman could be so treacherous was strange to him, although Rubi certainly scared him sometimes. At least, she would if she were his enemy. The only woman he had ever been close to emotionally was Celest, and treachery wasn't really in her nature.
"Mmm.. though there exists methods to recreate a person following death that many space faring races are capable of, our bodies themselves as vessels are still quite mortal behind the raiments of high technology." It was likely a shock revealing the fact that aliens could in some way cheat death in such a way, making the spectre of old age seem meaningless in comparison. "I did not get a good look at her in the armor she wore, but the fighting style and the voice reminded me of a certain 'supersoldier' for hire that had crossed my path once before... an extremely old and dangerous Nekovalkyrja by the name of Uso Tasuki."
The previous revelations had been far less surprising than the ability to cheat death. Grant was stunned for a moment as his mind could hardly conceive of the idea. Coming from a world where Grant was almost considered old at 30 and death was a fact of life, it was unthinkable. "There exists a technology that can bring back the dead? Is this available to everyone out there?" He exclaimed, forgetting his original question. Then he remembered there were more pressing concerns. "Ah, yes, back to the matter at hand. What abilities do these Nekovalkyrja possess that make them so dangerous?"
"No, not to everyone," replied Azariel calmly. "It is a highly controlled technique reserved for only a select few, as you may have guessed. Though Yamatai does employ it for most of their population, making them able to change a body not unlike one would change a set of clothes." The look on the former senator's face seemed to lose some color. "The Nekovalkyrja are an extension of this technology, only perfected for warfare. An artifical body made to exceed that of a human in all respects of strength, speed, and durability... though they appear as attractive females, these deceptive creations are living weapons of their Empire's military might that has conquered many systems."
The winged alien glanced back at the white armor standing before him near the waterfall, letting go a sigh. "Uso... she was an older prototype of Yamatai's soldiers, one that is stronger than the lessers found in the rank and file today."
Grant was unsure how even with one armor in use the mercenary invaders could be defeated. Six or more of them, maybe they could do significant damage but one? Even out of her armor he wasn't even sure a direct hit would kill this Uso. "This planet must be quite unlucky then if they don't even make something like her anymore. I am hopeful now that maybe in that armor we could discuss some sort of truce without being shot on sight." He said as he walked over to the armor. "So, is a normal human like me able to work this armor even though I don't have wings?"
"It is possible," replied Azariel, as he opened the chest cavity of the armor to reveal the inner layers that one would step into. They were soft and warm, a bit like synthetic muscles. "Though this Hikael unit can adapt its interior to being operated by a Plebian -- roughly a human of your size -- without your own wings to stabilize the sheaths it may be difficult to balance properly, even with the sizeable strength enhancement." The elder rubbed his chin as he tested the servos of the extensions. "Modifying it by removing the Graser units and keeping them locked in folded position may improve the stability, but I will need some time to see if I can do it without proper tools." The former Senator then smiled wizenedly. "Naturally, you'd need a crash course in power armor piloting as well, hmm."
The rebel nodded his head. "A crash course without much crashing involved hopefully." He said, attempting to make a joke. Although some of Azariel's words were unfamiliar, Grant understood what he was saying. "It would be dangerous to confront them without the ability to get away quickly. I'm not sure we have the time for me to learn how to use this armor." He rubbed his chin as he turned to face Azariel. "I hate to suggest it, since you are much more valuable than I am with all of your knowledge.. Perhaps you could meet with their leader in my place and discuss the possibility of a truce. I would of course request that they not kill anyone else, unless it's in self-defense or enforcing the law. We need to establish a system of law as well."
The joke did not go entirely unnoticed, though his suggestion to meet with the leader did get a rise out of the elder Elysian's eyebrows visible in the warm light. "My boy... that may be an idea. I have played the games of statesmanship long before you were even born. I have quite damning information that could force Uso to think twice about detroying us... for sometimes, information is the most devestating weaponry of all." Azariel nodded a few times, as a plan began to form in the back of his mind. "Yes.. yes, a proper rule of law is much needed here. I know you had campaigned for this fact during your recruitment against the Osman monarchy. If we could establish a legal code, and bind their leaders into it... there is a chance of forming a rudimentary government."
