Jataka - The Prophetess

All of it.  She could still see all of it.  Even at this end that, foretold for years, was still as bittersweet as when she first saw it – she could see all of it.  The curse of the serpents’ flickering, forked tongues, since that night of her youth spent in the shrine to the Sun, haunting her to her final breath – all of it.  It all flashed across her mind then, as she sat, naked in the moonlight, awaiting her master – she saw all of it.  The doctrine of vindictive gods stretched beyond her own life, into a time and space incomprehensible – every single part of the whole, she saw all of it.

Years into decades, decades into centuries, everything that ever was to be, unveiled to her.  The rise and fall of empires, of peoples foreign and queer, of cities of mud and metal alike – all of it was hers to witness.  The tumultuous concert of human progression, tampered, aided and stunted, in a whirlwind of divine portension, from the loom of the Fates to the front of her mind.  It was often far too much to bear.  And so it was since her youth.

Reflecting upon the sorrow of her past, as her master disrobed, she remembered all of it.  The dreams, those horrid dreams, which soon became realities.  She remembered all of it.  Princess, she was, to proud parents and twin brother.  Another life it seemed to her, before the night with Loxias.  Yet she remembered all of it.  When Delphinius came to her as she lay in his temple, she remembered the hesitation.  She remembered the spurning of her suitor, not of pride but fear, an action innocent, yet assumed arrogant.  She remembered the rage then, the scorned Helius, and the true curse that would haunt her for the rest of her life, and the rest of eternity.  All of it, she remembered.

The worst of it was being forsaken and ignored when she tried to disseminate it all.  All she saw and all she recalled, she tried to voice all of it.  Met with disbelief and ridicule, obstinate and willful people of Ilion, of Troia, of Truva, the wool of a petty god over their ears – cursed, they ignored all of it.  Every warning unheeded, every plea denied, she watched it all come to fruition.  Every calamity, no matter how small, would happen as she dictated.  All of it, unfolding in life as in her dreams, and every one forewarned and disregarded.  News of far flung lands, of famines near at hand, of fleets converging and her other brother’s prideful mistake.  Of the war to come, of the death to bear, of the false gift of peace…

When her home had fallen to the invaders, her supplication was desecrated.  Clutching Pallas, crying to those fickle gods, she found no solace, no quarter.  Her constant, unwavering faith, even in light of her curse…unrewarded.  The lesser, he was, the commander of the Locrians, he that stole her virtue on that sacred ground.  Painful and vicious, the sorrow of her plight lessened only slightly by the knowledge of his impending doom.  He had moved within her then, as her master did now, spilling his seed with a conqueror’s conceit, with only his pride to blame for his damnation.  His body lay cold at the bottom of the sea.  She lay moaning, warm in bed with a king atop.

Despoiled as she was, she hadn’t shed a single tear when she was sold to her master.  Her own death sealed then, as she had seen.  Her sons, doomed to the same fate, only for their fathers’ name.  Their fathers’ wife.  The hypocritical jealousy of a scorned cheat, cast upon her, driving the queen to murder.  No.  Not quite that far, not alone.  There was another, she saw.  A man with the blessing of Astrapios, twisting the mind of her masters’ wife.  She saw why, understanding that her curse, her gift, was too much to account for.  The grand designs of a greedy man, predicated on the simple expedient of ending her precious life.

Watching her master dress, describing the forthcoming meal that she, in her head, had eaten for years, she considered the life lived cursed.  Every action she took to thwart the future was inconsequential.  The futility of her existence made clear from the very beginning.  Her life was one of immense sorrow, grief, and madness.  And it all stemmed from him, god of all ways, but only Death’s to her.  He had destroyed her, her love of old…and no mistake, she had loved him.  Worshiped him.  Prayed…but had not asked for it, not for the gift nor for his affection.  The failings of innocent presumptions, of ideas of mercy in light of The Light.  Her fatal shortcoming.

As she slipped into her gown, she knew her sons laid in their cradles, blood pooling around their lifeless bodies.  Everything they could have been, staining the swaddling clothes meant to keep them safe and warm.  As she walked to dinner astride her master, she knew his breaths to be numbered.  Noble warrior and king, soon to be butchered.  As she approached the altar to sacrifice, one final time to silently beg for peace, she knew the queen’s lover approached with ax in hand.  When her master cried out as he fell, she felt the hot tears stream down her face, her frustrating life finally at an end.  And when the ax bit into her skull, she saw Elysium.  

The Outsiders: Year Three (pt. XI)

Hara moved to the right, diving out of the way of an incoming lightning bolt.  The wyvern roared again, flame erupting from its maw.  I have to keep moving, he thought to himself.  He took to the sky, avoiding the fire and trying to hide himself in the cloud cover.  The sounds of large wingbeats followed him.  Given the extraordinary circumstances, Hara was feeling strangely calm.  Sure, he had never had to slay a wyvern, but to him, combat was combat.  How hard could it possibly be?

Having the high ground would help him analyze his opponent, Hara thought, but Thestus was fast.  The wyvern was gaining ground and snapping at his heels.  Hara hesitated, waiting until the jaws were almost upon him before darting downwards.  Plummeting towards the volcano, he turned and dragged his blade along the wyvern's belly, hoping to find a gap in the scale armor.  Failing that, he twisted, trying to elevate, but Thestus was ready, and the wyvern's tail hit its target.

The collision knocked the wind out of him and the force of hit slammed him into the mountainside.  Hara bounced into the air, narrowly avoiding another lightning strike.  Hara swore to himself, gritting his teeth as he finally came to a rest.  The weather was a huge problem.  The lightning, he was pretty sure, was under Thestus' domain, and if he were to stay still, he would be fried.  But constant movement was starting to strain his fuel reserves.  He had to end this quick. 

Looking upwards, he saw the wyvern above him, its large wings unfurled and beating slowly as it watched it's prey below.  The dark clouds acted as camouflage, masking most of its features.  As it dove towards him with an angry roar, the red eyes and the fiery maw stood out.  As did the yellow diamond on its chest...

Hara leapt away as Thestus' claws slammed into the mountainside, taking to the skies once more.  Twisting and turning, trying to evade the beast below, he ducked under its head and, grabbing the hilt of his blade tightly, drove the blade into its left wing.  Dark blood erupted from the wound and Hara had a brief moment of exultation before, with an incensed scream, Thestus' teeth closed around Hara's new leg. 

He felt himself slam, back first, into the ground again.  Thestus reared upwards, readying to strike towards his downed foe.  In that moment of desperation, Hara sat up and sprang upwards to meet him.  Narrowly avoiding the bite that would end his life, he drove his blade towards the diamond on Thestus' chest.  He felt the blade connect and with a tremendous flash of lightning, he was thrown backwards. 

For a moment the world was in chaos.  Lightning emanated wildly from the bewildered wyvern, a torrent of light piercing the darkness.  Thunder like the very fabric of reality torn asunder seemed to pierce him to his core.  Somewhere, a scream of anguish rent the air around him and Hara was reacquainted, headfirst, with the side of the mountain once more.

When he came around, Hara leapt to his feet, blade at the ready.  The sun was shining and he could see the curvature of the world on the horizon.  The view would have been, in any other circumstance, breathtaking, but, as a hardened soldier, Hara knew that every second without sight of his enemy was a distinct disadvantage.  Turning, he found the wyvern hunched over the remnants of the gem on the edge of the crater.  At the sign of movement, it looked up and Hara felt its gaze fall upon him.  Hara raised his blade and waited.  The voice caught him by surprise, coming from within his own head.

"Killing me is not enough for you it seems.  You are cruel to destroy the last link to my departed sister."

"What does it matter to you?  You'll be seeing her soon," Hara spat, suddenly angered by the hint of sadness in the god's voice.  Who was he to expect sympathy in the midst of an attempted murder?  He leapt once more into the air, and raced up the side of the mountain,  Dodging the snapping wyvern, he flew up, turned, ready to strike...and realized with horror that his fuel had run out.  Giving into gravity, Hara fell, blade downwards, towards the crouched beast below.  He could almost see a smile on the wyvern's face as it turned to meet him, pulled back, and unleashed a geyser of flame.

The fire engulfed him completely.  The Vector offered him no protection, though it should have. Burning, screaming, in indescribable pain, he fell into the throat of the beast, piercing the flesh within.  He couldn't think.  The pain was overwhelming.  But it wasn't just his own.  He felt Thestus inside him, the agony of the dying god threatening to consume his very being.  The carcass of The Great Wyvern, with the last son of Thestus within it, hurtled into the heart of the volcano.  

Hara was trapped inside his own head.  He didn't know where he ended and Thestus began.  In some way, he felt like the real battle was only just starting.  He couldn't feel anything anymore - the brief, yet intense, suffering of the flames were strangely missing.  Instead he felt threatened to lose himself in eons of memories.  He could suddenly see it all.  Across all time and space, the fires called to him.  From the birth of Agraea, to the end of creation, across the universe, everything was made plain to him.  And it almost drove him insane.  Fire was everything.  The flame was all there was.  Every lick of it called to him, every tendril summoning him.  Consumed, and undone, flashing throughout time, existing everywhere and nowhere at once, Hara O'Ans would have been lost...if it weren't for screams of a friend in need, pulling him back to his own.

He had a moment to register Aela's cry.  The wyvern was gone, replaced by the broken body of Thestus and his human form, upon which Hara now stood.  He somehow felt her then, fallen before Namala, who was closing for the kill. In a flash of rage and flame he was gone, and, for the first time in centuries, Mt. Otun came to life.

The Outsiders: Year Three (pt. X)

"Hara O'Ans," He stated, his voice dripping with disdain.  This doesn't seem like it will end well, Hara thought.

"You must be Thestus."

"Lord of Flame, the Great Wyvern, Father of the Horde...Yes, I have been many things, Thestus the first among them."  Hara watched him carefully, taking in the sight before him.  Thestus did not show his age as readily as his desert-bound sister.  Broad-shouldered and heavily muscled, he stood a head taller than Hara.  His unruly, black mane showed streaks of grey as it tumbled towards his waist and, like his sister, he was adorned with jewels, including a peculiar diamond upon his chest, which looked to Hara to have lightning seemingly trapped within.  Eyes of molten red narrowed in his direction.

"You spoke with my dear sister," Thestus boomed.  It was a statement, not a question.  "I take it you have come to claim the full realization of your Gift."

"Err..." Hara hesitated.  What exactly was this gift, he thought.  He hadn't been exactly clear on that to begin with.  The thought had slipped his mind in the frantic search for a way to contact his comrades.  He decided that truth would be the best course of action.

"I'm not here for that.  The Gift...I just want to get back to my friends," he said, hoping to pacify the rage he could sense was brewing behind the clenched jaw.

"Don't play games with me, boy," Thestus growled, spitting out the epithet.  "I can feel Eidnar's touch on your soul.  And the only time my children ever returned to me was to collect on what they thought was owed them.  Your people left centuries ago, and I thought I could die in peace.  Now you have returned, as your lot invariable did, needy and entitled."

"I'm not sure I understand, Thestus." Hara began, but was interrupted.

"DON'T LIE TO ME, CHILD," Thestus roared and Hara barely had time to draw his blade and meet the razor sharp sword that had been fractions of a second from sinking into his neck.  Despite his age and size, Thestus was blindingly fast and Hara had to rely solely on instinct to block his attacks.  The Vector HUD was useless to him, seemingly malfunctioning at such a critical time, but Hara had always considered his instinct to be superior to any real-time analysis that the suit had provided.  His rise through the Academy had been, in large part, due to his fighting prowess.  And yet, even with his natural ability and years of training, he found himself hard-pressed to keep up.   Finally, a chance - he locked his blade with his opponents on an overhead swing and swept Thestus' right leg out from under him.   Thestus bellowed and, as he dropped to his knee, released his blade, grabbed Hara's torso, and with tremendous strength, hurled him over his head.  Hara had barely enough time to register what had happened when he found himself face down, several yards down the side of the mountain.

"You fight well, Hara.  Better than your last relative who came up to challenge me."  Thestus rearmed himself and pointed the blade down in Hara's direction.  "You may yet acquit yourself with honor.  Come and end my misery."

"No," Hara replied, getting to his feet and planting the blade in the dirt.  "I'm being honest with you Thestus, I have no idea what this is about.  I just want to go find my friends.  And I could use your help."

"For eons I have tended the Flame.  I willingly ignited the spark in lowly men that made them into worshiped heroes.  I brought forth this very mountain, adding my own brushstroke to the masterpiece of my father.  I did everything I could to help your petulant people as he would have wanted.  I provided safe haven, kept enemies at bay...I had to even kill my own sister to ensure your survival."  As he spoke, the diamond on his chest seemed to glow even brighter.  The sky started to darken and thunder rumbled.  Hara reached for his blade and he thought he felt the ground itself shake in response to the call of the heavens.

"Despite all my service to you and your people, they left me, me and my siblings.  Left us to die with this world that we had sworn to guide, to care, all for you.  And now you have returned and I will not be left behind again, Hara O'Ans.  Today this farce of an existence ends.  I will not let you leave, I will not help your kind any longer.  Your people were born of Agraea.  You will kill me and you leave it to die, as your people have.  And if  you fail, I will ensure that your corpse joins those of your forefathers in feeding this great mountain."

Thestus rose into the sky and the rain started falling in earnest.  Hara tore to blade from the ground and raced up the mountain side, but Thestus had disappeared.  And then he heard it, a deafening roar that shook him to his very bones, a sound that he felt within the fiber of his being.  Lightning struck the stone ahead of him and, momentarily surprised, he fell to his knees.  He heard, rather than felt, the gust of great wingbeats behind him.  Heaving himself to his feet, turning, blade held aloft, he beheld his foe.  Obsidian scales, a gaping maw, the size of the lander with red eyes of malice.  A diamond of pure lightning etched upon his chest.  The Great Wyvern had come for the kill.

The Outsiders: Year Three (pt. IX)

When Hara awoke he felt refreshed, momentarily forgetting the events that had led him to a desolate city at the base of a volcano, far from his comrades.  The memory returned as soon as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and he sprang to his feet, surveying his surroundings.  His first observation was the striking serenity outside.  Sunlight streamed through the windows into the room around him, illuminating the dusty air.  He was in what seemed like a lobby of an old corporate building.  Faded lettering and images painted onto the interior walls gave him the impression that this was an old mining company.  He grabbed his helmet, and with one hand on his blade, stepped cautiously through the wreckage of the window he had obliterated on his way in.

In the steel forest that was the city around him, the downed building had created a meadow.  The sun caused the twisted steel rubble strewn throughout the street to glisten and shine.  Hara held a hand to his brow to shield his eyes as he looked around him.  The wreckage was rampant throughout the rather broad thoroughfare, with the bulk of the former facade blocking the gate through which he had entered the city.  The building across the street gaped at him, its innards exposed to the elements for the first time since its construction centuries ago.  Hara could spy furniture befit an office building in what remained on the higher floors.  Donning his helmet, he rose steadily, parallel to the office building, visually documenting the evidence within.  Under different circumstances, he would have marveled at the history at display, and fully appreciated the singular experience that this morning had provided.  This morning...

"Damn." He turned quickly and rose up to the roof of the building he had spent the night in.  Landing, he looked out at the rest of the city.  The volcano loomed, a vigilant guardian, towering like a titan over the city.  From what he could see from changes in architecture, the city was divided into three rings.  He was standing atop the tallest building in the newest portion of the city, he supposed, among other skyscrapers and rather large buildings.  Further into the city was a second zone, a relatively modest region with a blend of architectural patterns.  At the very base of the mountain, he could discern structures made of a pure black material, shimmering in the morning light.  Turning, he looked towards the desert in the distance.  Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but Hara was starting to feel quite worried.

He was supposed to be back to base by sundown.  Missing a direct order from D.D. was not something Hara had made a habit of, and furthermore, was not something that the former would allow without substantial consequences.  Checking the log, he found an even stranger anomaly - he hadn't been hailed at all, not once, throughout the night.  Complete silence was an oddity for certain.  Something was wrong.  He tried immediately to hail Aela, and, failing that, to reach out to Arturi or Sofia on board The Sabre, but nothing connected.  The silence around him suddenly weighed heavy, disconcerting and worrisome.  Hara ran another diagnostic on this suit, hoping to find an issue with the communication system that he could easily workaround, but nothing seemed amiss on that front.  What he did find was disheartening - the backup solar generator for the jet pack had taken the brunt of the lightening strike that had brought him to his knees, leaving him with only a few hours of fuel, not nearly enough to return to camp.  He had figured on having the solar generator to take him through the desert, but at this rate, he'd have to struggle across the dunes on his feet.

Taking stock of his surroundings once more, he turned towards the peak.  What had the lioness told him?  That her brother, Thestus, was waiting for him at the volcano.  Perhaps he would be able to help him out of his mess and bring him back across the plains to the edge of his domain.  Hara sighed.  This was insane, he thought, that he would consider wasting what fuel he had left to summit a mountain in the opposite direction of his goal.  And yet, he did feel a strange pull towards the peak.  Something seemed to call to him, the fiber of his being and he knew then that he had to continue onwards.  Besides, he thought, he would be on the highest vantage point in the region.  What better place to survey the land and see how he would proceed?  And maybe he could overcome whatever communication barrier existed if he got to the top of that volcano.  Thinking that he should move quickly to get in contact with his friends sooner, Hara decided to bet on the volcano.

Hara jumped from the rooftop and glided, conserving his fuel, deeper into the city.  Landing lightly on the main thoroughfare, he retracted his wings and looked around.  This part of the city was approaching the second region that he had seen earlier.  A mixed residential and business sector by the look of it.  Old vehicles lined the streets, and things seemed neat and orderly, as if somebody had taken great care to arrange his surroundings.  Faded adverts and banners streamed from overhanging fixtures, jutting off the side of old multi-story apartment buildings and corporate offices.  Hara could make out an old symbol on a few of the facades and banners, the volcano surrounded by several, seemingly tribal, markings.  As he proceeded along the street, the mixed sector gave way to some neighborhoods, of olden, modest houses.  For a brief moment he considered entering one of the households, but, remembering the somewhat time-sensitive nature of his current predicament, Hara moved on.

After some time, Hara reached yet another gate, mirroring the one he had seen the day before.  This gate, and all the structures beyond it, however, were made of a dark, glassy substance.  Obsidian, he realized, as he reached out to tap his glove against it.  Proceeding cautiously through the gate, he continued to venture further up the now heavily sloping landscape.  This part of the city was quite old, he decided, older than anything he had ever seen.  The architecture was unrecognizable, the material was exquisite.  And somehow, it had all remained preserved, despite its fragile state.  Treading carefully, he meandered through the ancient city until he reached an ornate gateway, guarded by two obsidian wyverns, next to a rather large castle.  Here, Hara paused to check the time.  Two hours had passed since he had woken and he felt the pressure of time upon him once more.  Forgoing his curiosity to look around the castle grounds, he passed underneath the arch, and headed further up the volcano.

The climb was an arduous one, and he often took the easier route by flying for a few minutes at a time when he needed a break.  The ancients had left a rudimentary path to follow along the mountain, but it had fallen in to disrepair, which Hara had found quite odd.  The city below him had been, somewhat, pristine and well-preserved.  He thought back to what the lioness had told him.  If these beings were indeed gods, they had become glorified care-takers in the absence of the ancients, the ones that had fled Agrea, to establish the Corangean Empire among the stars.  Since then, everything was seemingly untouched by time.  Thus, he reasoned, this path must have fallen to disarray long beforehand.  This realization did nothing, however satisfying it was from an amateur historian's perspective, to assuage the great pain with which he traversed the mountainside now, climbing over obstacles and slipping and falling, occasionally, down the flank, only to waste more fuel making up the lost ground.

It was in this exhausted state that Hara came to the end of the path, to a rather flat region near the summit that seemed to form a ring below the crater.  He sat to rest for a moment, overlooking the region around him.  He could see the desert in its entirety, including the mountains to its far northeastern borders.  To the north, he could see the jagged crags of yet another mountain range.  The sun was high in the clear, blue sky and illuminated the whole of the domain below.  It was certainly a beautiful sight, one that he was sure to document in the record through his visor.  Feeling a second wind, he stood and turned to face the crater.

It was then that he noticed him.  A lone, solitary figure at the edge of the crater, looking down at him.  Hara flew then, without hesitation, rising to his level, landing a few yards away.  The man spoke to him in a deep, contemptuous tone.

"So...you have come at last."

The Outsiders: Year Three (pt. VIII)

Turning away from the desert and its clear, blue skies, Hara faced the open plains. The grasses swayed before him, untamed, taller than any man.  Jumping into the skies, he flew lazily towards the distant mountain, trying to catalog as much as he could about the grasses below.  They seemed to be some sort of wheatgrass, Hara surmised, reminding him of his father's old greenhouses.  He found a small clearing in the plains and landed briefly to collect a soil sample, packing it securely into a compartment on his hip, along with a sample of the surrounding flora.  The first raindrops started to fall on his face then, and he stopped to breathe in the earthly, humid air.  Donning his helmet (which he thought was prudent), he continued his journey.

The mountain in the distance became incrementally larger despite his faster pace, a testament to its enormity.  He was checking the fuel gauge when something on the horizon caught his attention.  Hara stopped dead in the air.  Glittering.  Glittering that was familiar, at the base of the mountain, that could only mean one thing.  Buildings.  It was then that realized that he had seen cityscapes on his descent, but hadn't fully appreciated their significance.  Actual cities!  He sped up towards the mountain then, caught up in the excitement of his thoughts, not heeding the sudden ferocity of the storm that raged around him.  Hara wondered what artifacts of his temporally far-flung forefathers he would find.  A city would be huge for the Archives, he thought, grinning to himself as he pictured the look on the Author's face at the various items he could bring back to him.  He approached the city from what looked like the main entrance way.  He landed gently before an ornate gate, and was admiring what architecture he could see through the torrent when the lightning struck him.

He cried out as he felt the surge of power flow through the suit, bringing him to his knees, his arms outstretched.  The Vector was locked momentarily, adjusting to the sudden input.  Hara knew that, theoretically, the suit could handle a large influx of energy.  He just didn't know how long it would take.  He felt the suit relax and he hunched over breathing hard.  The force of the strike knocked the wind out of him.  He remembered back to his jump into Krypia, when pummeling through the wreckage of a downed ship had made him felt like the bones in his body had shattered.  This was somehow worse.  Rising to one knee, he shook his head and made to stand, when a second strike hit the arch in front of him, causing him to duck.

He swore to himself and tried to hail Aela, but the suit wasn't cooperating.  The sudden peal of thunder nearly drowned out the sound of his own thoughts.  Throwing caution to the wind, he sprinted through the arch into the ruined city beyond, a task made more difficult by the howling winds of the encompassing gale.  He barely had time to register surprise at the winds overcoming the relative stability of the Vector when, with a flash, a bang, and a tremendous groan of surrendering steel, the facade of the building beside him came crashing down.  He flew laterally, crashing through a window of the building across the street, tumbling through the wreckage of what seemed to be a lobby of sorts, to escape the impending collapse.  With a thunderous, earth-shaking fall, the building outside crumbled.

Hara held his breath waiting for the lightening to strike again.  Outside, the storm raged on in a deafening downpour, limiting his vision to the lobby around him.  After what seemed like an eternity, Hara decided that the worst had passed.  He cautiously removed his helmet, and took a deep breath.  He sat himself in a far corner, a vantage from which he could survey the whole lobby and sat in a state of constant vigilance.  The Vector seemed to be a little rough around the edges, but still fully functioning.  The diagnostics of his person came back fine, although he still felt sore from the blast of lightening.  He settled in, watching for any sign of movement, a hand on his blade.  For hours, Hara waited and watched, thinking of Aela, of the goddess of the desert, and of the seemingly sentient lightening.  All the while, the rain fell steadily, and before he realized, Hara fell into a fitful sleep, jolting awake at the sound of distant thunder, only to drift off, lulled by the patter of the rain around him.

The Outsiders: Year Three (pt. VII)

Startled, Hara whipped around, his helmet dropping on the sands, his blade out and ready to strike.

The woman in front of him stood still, watching him.  She was as tall as he was, willowy, with bronze, weathered skin, and silver, waist-length hair blowing in the gentle breeze.  She wore no clothing, but was adorned with various bracelets, anklets, and tattoos that Hara noted looked quite ancient.  Her most striking feature, however, were her eyes, which were a solid golden hue, matching that of the pendant that rested upon her chest.  She spoke with a familiar voice, encapsulating and enchanting.

"It has been a long time since the Children of Corangar have even set foot upon this world, let alone dared to breath its sweet air without protection."

Hara stared, not knowing what to say.  She started forward, and, reflexively, he raised his blade.  She smiled reassuringly.

"I mean you no harm, Thestian."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" he asked, taking a step back.  He needed to make sure he kept a safe distance from her, he thought, as he tried to analyze her offensive capabilities.  Thunder continued to rumble behind him.

She cocked her head to the side.  "Have you forgotten your roots, Child?  I suppose it has been quite a long time to your kind..." she trailed off, seemingly lost in memory.  Hara waited a moment before pressing the question.

"When did you come here? When did you leave Nykna?"

She looked at him then, her eyes gently narrowed in curiosity.  "Whatever do you speak of, Child?"

"You are a Daughter of Nykna, right? When did you arrive on this planet?"

She seemed amused at the inquiry.  "I know not of what you speak, Hara, Son of Thestus."

"How did you -"

She paid no mind to his question, speaking over him.  "I have always been here.  My father was here, he was the beginning.  Your kind came next, but were nothing before me, and my siblings.  I had older brothers and sisters, and younger ones too.  And we have been tied to the fate of this world since its inception.  Time has been cruel.  We strayed from our purpose, fought and bickered.  Shepherds, turned wolves.  In the end, you all left, but we remained...and are not long for this world, I'm afraid," she sighed.  Hara realized that she had moved closer to him as he had stood, transfixed by her ethereal figure and her divine voice.  He hesitated a moment and sheathed his blade.  She nodded her approval.

"So you are not an alien?"

"I am of Agraea, forever and always."

"Agraea?  That's what this place is called?"

"This land," she gestured, opening her arms to indicate their surrounding.  "Shaped by my father, at first.  And then by us, in an age of old."

"Shaped?"

"We made the land as it is, Hara.  My brothers and sisters and I.  The desert is my domain, and has certain bounds.  The mountains to the north do as well.  As does the influence of that volcano you find yourself so drawn to," she said, walking past him.  He turned to find her staring at the rainclouds showering the lone mountain and the surrounding plains.

"You made this land?"

"Yes."  They were silent for a moment, watching the rains fall on the plains.  He felt a strange comfort in her presence.  A contentment.  Now that she was closer, he could see how thin she was and could sense her age.  He would have been happy to sit in silence for a while, but he had one other question on his mind.

"You keep mentioning that I'm a 'Son of Thestus.'  What do you mean?  My father was a scientist on a far away planet."

"But he is of a lineage," she replied, finally turning to look him in the eyes.  "The mountain," she said, raising a gaunt arm to point.  "It calls to you because you and your blood are of it, of The Great Wyvern.  This is why you are here, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your kind fled this world.  Why you left...does not matter now.  Where you disappeared to, we did not know.  Those of us left, we tended to this world as best we could, but without you, we are lost.  Left to decay.  We thought ourselves eternal, but now we find ourselves ephemeral.

"But you have returned now.  And within you I feel the Gift, and my brother's touch upon your very fiber."  She placed a hand on the chestplate of his suit.  "You have returned to take up the mantle left behind by those who took to the skies.  For that I am grateful, to know that we are not forgotten."  Hara kept silent, not knowing what to say, not wanting to ruin, what he sensed, was her last shred of comfort.  "Be warned though, Child.  In old age, Thestus has gotten quite ornery."

She started to move away, back towards the desert.  He called after her, and she paused.

"Won't you come with me?  I...I don't even know your name," he admitted, sheepishly.

The woman turned, with a sad smile on her face.  "I cannot leave this land, Hara.  This desert and I are bound.  Safe travels, Child."  Before he realized, she had disappeared, and before him was the gaunt lioness.  Turning tail, it disappeared over a sand dune, leaving Hara to his thoughts.

The Outsiders: Year Three (pt. VI)

"What the hell was that?" he asked, raising this voice to be heard over the shower.  The steam that had escaped when he had opened the door started to fill the room again.

"What was what?" she called back, nonchalant.  He ripped open the curtain and immediately regretted it.  He caught her smirk as he turned away, balling his fists.

"You know full well what you did.  That...that wasn't..." He tensed as her warm hand touched his shoulder and she embraced him.

"I sensed that you needed to relax, to take your mind off of things.  Where I come from, this is one such...method to accomplish that.  Unless I'm mistaken, it was something you wanted too...right?"  She sounded worried, he noticed, and he exhaled to steady himself, shrugging out of her arms.

"I...look, that isn't the point.  You manipulated me.  I was -"

"- I did what I did to comfort you, to make you feel better!" she interrupted.

"Comfort?!" He whipped around suddenly, engulfed with rage.  "That wasn't comfort!  I opened up to you, I was vulnerable, and you took my feelings for you and you did that thing," he gestured wildly at her eyes, ignoring the shock on her face, "and you took advantage of me.  How the hell is that comfort?"

"Hara..." she started, tears swimming in her eyes.  "I...I didn't mean to, I just...I wanted to make you feel better.  I thought we were..." She reached out, but he pulled away.  The anger was probably misdirected, he thought.  He hadn't had an outlet for it since he left the Institute, and it was likely tainting his reaction.  Try as he might, though, he couldn't let it go.

"Look.  Honestly? I do care about you.  But you didn't need to convince me or whatever you did.  That was a breach of trust.  You should've just...asked? I don't know, anything but what you did.  You...Aela, its just, maybe we shouldn't take this any further."

To her credit, she only looked stricken for a moment.  Ever the consummate soldier, she composed herself in an instant and, her jaw set, nodded.  "Shower's yours, O'Ans," she said, stepping past him.  "Best make it quick; D.D. is expecting us in 20."

He sighed, alone with his thoughts.  He did the right thing, he told himself, as he showered.  It was wrong of her to do what she did.  Sure, he did want it, want her, but that was not excuse for taking advantage of him.  The devil's advocate in his head, however, begged to differ.  Maybe he should just explain that he hadn't meant it, that he did want to be with her, and maybe he was overreacting.  He could feel the indecision gnawing at him as he got dressed.  Why did he feel so at odds?  He had thought this was fairly cut and dry.  And yet here he was, feeling guilty.  Absolutely absurd, he reflected, as he crossed over to the lander.  Aela was inside, armored up, her helmet on and visor darkened.  She didn't say anything as he walked past into the deployment bay.  He donned the Vector suit, ruminating on the events of the previous night.  As he finished suiting up, Hara had made up his mind.  He decided that he wanted to talk to her while they looked for the Mirzaj.  When he stepped outside, Aela was standing with D.D., who turned as Hara approached.

"Well, O'Ans.  It seems you've convinced Arturi that you need to go on a scouting trip."

"Oh," Hara replied, caught be surprise.  He had completely forgotten his separate objective for the day.  "I guess I have."  D.D. continued speaking.

"O'Ans, you will search as you please.  I expect a return and report by sundown today.  Yokan and I will continue with the primary objective due east from camp.  Any words for him before we depart?" D.D. asked, turning to Aela.  Her visor remained darkened and her voice was cold in reply.

"None."

Hara could see D.D. raise an eyebrow, but he didn't address the issue.  Hara saluted and headed for the exit.  The talk with Aela would have to wait.  He had a job to do.  Leaving the camp, he walked several paces east before igniting the jetpack and jumping straight into the early morning air.  Wind readings reported a relatively calm day, with winds from the east.  That should help with fuel, he thought, as he turned westward, flying towards the last sighting of his mysterious lioness.

Half an hour in, Hara realized that he should have given this search more thought.  The desert stretched, seemingly endlessly, all around him.  Without a single lead to follow, he was just burning fuel.  It didn't help, he considered, that all he could think of was getting back to Aela and setting things straight.  Hara rose, preoccupied, even further into the sky.  He could see to the south, on the horizon, the dormant volcano that he had flown by on his way to his comrades.  He felt a strange pull then, towards that lonely peak.  He had seen it last night in his dream.  Hara could hear the voice faintly echoing in his head.  Otun, it had been called, back before the Empire had arisen, when the gods and goddesses still held sway on the land.  

"Where are you?" Hara muttered, moving slowly towards the mountain, scanning the land below him.  He had no doubt about the owner of the voice in his dream, or the source of the dream itself.  Arturi had mentioned that the lioness was an ancient alien, capable of things that normal people were not.  While dream projections were somewhat peculiar, Hara had seen enough oddities among his travels in the universe to not be too concerned.  Still, this being would be a powerful one, and one that he would have to be careful around.

He wracked his brains as he dipped downward, meandering towards the mountain, skimming the dunes.  What else had he gotten from his dream?  There were a couple of names on the tip of his tongue, ones that he felt might have vital import to his current mission.  He mulled it over as the peak grew closer and closer.   Without realizing it, Hara had come to the edge of the desert.  He landed lightly and checked his HUD.  Enough fuel to lap around the volcano and get back to camp in time.  Taking a short break, he looked at his destination.  The mountain was framed by dark clouds, threatening a torrential downpour.  Thunder rumbled in the distance.  In stark contrast, the sky behind him was bright blue, the sunlight assailing the dunes without reprieve.  He thought for a moment and hailed Aela.

"What do you want?" came the reply, through the static in the link.

"I was just wondering if we could talk," he replied, staring into the distance.  It had started to rain heavily, south of the volcano.  The tall grasses of the plains swayed violently in the wind.

"If you don't have anything on-topic to say, I'm a little busy with our mission," she said, curtly.  He sighed.

"Fine.  I'm leaving the desert for the bit, heading southwest of camp, towards the volcano I passed by on my way in.  Just keeping you posted."

"No need to."  She cut the link, leaving him dejected.  He did a systems check and diagnostics came back positive.  Hara had been recording data constantly since departing in the morning.  Environmental data would be particularly interesting to Arturi and to those in the Archives.  He pulled up what he had covered so far and the data gave him pause.  The atmospheric readings looked phenomenal.  He hailed Aela again.

"This better be good."

"Aela, the atmospherics.  Have you read them?"

"Naturally.  Abysmal.  Why?"

"They aren't though.  Not here, at the edge of the desert.  My readings are...normal."  She heard the implication.

"Don't do it."

"Why not?  There's no reason not to."

There was a pause on the other end.  "D.D. says under no circumstances are you to endanger yourself in a such a reckless way.  Don't be so stupid as to think that -" Hara cut the link, rolling his eyes.  He noticed that she was hailing him, but he ignored it.  He was sure that the rest of her commentary would be about the malfunctioning sensors on the Vector, as she and D.D. had been experiencing on and off during their time on the planet.  But the Vector had never let him down, and the small visual issues the day before were substantiated by the very real entity that Hara was trying to meet.  He reached up slowly and, after a moment's hesitation, pressed on the bilateral latches in the rear of the helmet.  With a hiss, his helm disengaged and he gently removed it it.  The warmth of the sun behind him was encouraging and the breeze from the plains was welcoming.  He slowly exhaled and, gambling, took a deep breath in.  For a moment, nothing happened.  And then -

"That was very brave, Thestian."

The Outsiders: Year Three (pt. V)

"HARA! Hara, wake up!"

His woke with a start, gasping for air, with Aela holding him down by his shoulders, peering worryingly into his face.  His jaw was sore and he was drenched in sweat.  The visions in his head had faded as soon as his eyes had open, but the sense of loss still lingered.  Taking deep breaths, he steadied himself and sat up, propping himself up with his arms.  Aela withdrew, sitting in seiza, placing a hand on his chest to caution him.

"Easy soldier.  Are you alright?"

"Yeah...yeah, it was just..."

"A bad dream?" she offered, a sad smile on her lips, her iridescent irises glowing in the dark.  "Hara, you were having a fit.  I mean, a full on seizure.  You were yelling and twisting...Stay here, I'll go grab the MediKit."  She made to rise.

"No, Aela," he grabbed her arm.  "I'm good. Truly."

"No, Hara, you aren't."  Her voice had grown sharp in anger.  "You won't talk about it, but you know as well as I do that you cannot lose like you did and still be okay!  For the love of Mino, you've got to talk about it."

He sighed, laying supine with his hands behind his head.  The ceiling of Aela's quarters were bland, quite unlike their counterpart on The Sabre, which were littered with photographs of her homeworld.  "I...it wasn't that."  Where to start?  "Yeah, okay, I lost," he remarked, begrudgingly.  It wasn't easy to admit, and hearing her say it had been hard.  He kept his eyes on the perfectly barren ceiling above him and, before he knew it, it was all tumbling out of him.  "I lost at Krypia.  I lost my leg, I failed my mission, I couldn't protect them.  I let you all down.  The Collective won that battle and worst of all, it was him." He could see the face, leering, laughing, and leaving him broken on the battlefield.  "And every night...well, usually, I relive the whole thing in my sleep.  The dive, the escape, the trap.  The duel.  The executions.  All of it.  And every time I try to do something different.  I try to see what I could've done to fix it.  What if I had been faster?  Stronger?  What if I had just sucked it up and fought back when he..." He lifted his prosthetic leg and gently laid it back down.  "Every. Single. Time.  He. Wins," he finished, through clenched teeth.  "And there's nothing I can do but take it."

Aela remained undeterred, a hand on his chest.  "Look at me, Hara," she said, softly.

He finally made eye contact with her, blinking away the tears of frustration that had welled unfairly, trying their hardest to showcase his new found vulnerability.  He had always had trouble looking her in the eye, particularly at night, when her the glow from her eyes were both alluring and blinding.  In fact, he had often been warned against it by Lero.  But now, looking into her eyes, he found not pity, as he had feared, but understanding.  He started feeling calm and his mind cleared.

"It is in the past, Hara.  You cannot change it, you cannot dwell in it.  There is a whole universe out there, and there are people here, still, because of you.  You have to let it go, Hara."  She paused, taking a breath.  "But that's not what it was today?" she asked.  "Tonight was something else, wasn't it?"

"Yeah..." he said.  "Tonight it was like...like a movie.  No, really," he said, as she smiled.  "It was just these...visions, scenes, like somebody was in my head, showing me something.  I saw..."  How could he describe it?  What had he even seen, really?  Why couldn't he remember it?  It had been so vivid only a moment ago and now...now he felt his mind clouding, as if a fog was enveloping his brain.  "I don't know what to make of it, but I saw things...people and places I had never seen.  And something happened.  To them, I mean.  There was this war.  Strange men, strange beasts and strange technology, but then everything changed.  It was over, one of the beasts was slain and then the land was torn asunder and -"

"'Torn asunder?'" she interrupted, raising an eyebrow and biting her lip.  "Arturi would be proud."

He smiled in spite of himself, sitting up to be on her level.  "Well, there was this voice. In my head.  Narrating, I guess?"

"Oh, so your dreams have voiceovers?  Is that a Corangean thing?  Because that's weird," Aela replied, crinkling her nose.  He laughed, feeling strangely light, given the images that kept flashing behind his eyes.  Images that flitted by, never staying too long.  It seemed the harder he tried to recall his dream, the further it slipped away into the nether.  At the same time, he couldn't help but notice how she looked in front of him, the curves of her body, how close she was to him.  The light from her eyes seemed to pulse gently.

"No...we..it was different."  His mouth was dry.  He ran his tongue absentmindedly along his lips.  "This hasn't happened to me before.  But there were all these images and I can't remember much about them, or the voice.  Things...they went by fast.  There were cycles of war and peace, kings and queens, whole realms shifting and realigning.  Son of...she called me the son of..."

"She?" Aela prompted.  Her hand was on his chest again, drifting ever so gently.

"The voice...And the whole time the civilizations grew more advanced, killed each other with more and more power and then..." His brow was furrowed, trying to concentrate, but he couldn't look away from her, couldn't break eye contact.

"Then what?" Aela breathed, and her breath was sweet and inviting and when had she gotten so close?

"And then...it...was..." Her lips touched his and his mind went blank.  Much like every other night, Hara barely slept.  But it wasn't until the alarm rang and she hopped into the shower that he was able to shake the fog from his brain.  He took a moment to collect himself.  What had just happened?  He remembered the dream then, and the melancholy.  And he remembered, with some disbelief, the latter half of his night.  He looked at the bathroom door, closed for the moment.  Considering, ever so briefly, the consequences of his actions, he jumped up, open the door, and stepped across the threshold.

The Outsiders: Year Three (pt IV)

"And what can I do for you tonight, Hara O'Ans?"

Arturi had tied his long, silver hair back in a ponytail.  Dressed down in his pajamas and ever-smiling, the older Nyknaen seemed like an overgrown child.  Hara could see the walls of his personal quarters behind him, lined with various notes and papers, written out in hand, an ancient custom that Arturi was fond of.  He had always claimed that it helped him remember whatever he needed to as he compiled the various doings of the Outsiders.  Presently, Hara was hoping that his mentor had something on those walls about the fauna of Prime.

"Author," Hara replied affectionately.  "I was curious - are you sure that Prime doesn't have any animal life?"

"Ah, yes.  Aela Yokan mentioned that you were having trouble accepting this fact," Arturi commented, smiling, crow's eyes becoming more apparent.  "I am quite certain that the planet in question is without animal life, Hara O'Ans.  Perhaps, it was just a hallucination?"

"Arturi, we've both seen something here.  A lioness.  I saw her with my own eyes," Hara replied, undeterred.  "If it was just me, I'd accept it...but there isn't a way that both of us could have hallucinated it, is there?  Is there anything in your notes, or in the Archive writings about lions on Prime?"

The Author looked at him strangely then, and in that moment, Hara knew he had been right to press him.  Arturi sat quietly, brow furrowed, considering, and Hara knew to wait.   Aela broke the silence.

"Author, what's wrong?"

Hearing her voice, Arturi began to speak, his sapphire eyes meeting Hara's emerald pair.  "The writings of Yesa Ra mention that the last faction on Agrea to join the nascent Corangean empire on Prime were the isolationist Tal-Shua.  A long-standing kingdom in their own right, resistant to most of the progress that took place throughout the land, the Tal-Shua were particularly noteworthy for their unique religion.  It is the same religion that prized the Mirzaj that D.D. and I have spent so long searching for.  Their deity, the one so closely tied to the Mirzaj and its supposed magic, was often depicted as a lioness, prowling the desert realm and guarding it from those that would do it harm."  Arturi fell silent.

"You mean to tell me that the lioness I saw is a goddess?" Hara couldn't keep the incredulity from his voice.  Arturi noticed.

"Young child, gods and goddesses are no trifling matter.  Have you so soon forgotten the Disaster of Orestes?"

"You know I haven't, Arturi.  But the gods of Orestes weren't true gods, they were -"

"An ancient race that only seemed so to those primitives whose world they commandeered," Artrui interrupted.  "And in much the same way, one can surmise that this goddess of the Tal-Shua was herself an alien whom these people, before the enlightened rise of the Corangean empire, deified.  Tell me, Hara O'Ans, where did you last see this lioness?"

"She disappeared westward with the sunset," he replied.  "Do you think she's a -"

Aela, who had been largely silent, jumped in.  "The Corangean's left this planet millennia ago because it was uninhabitable, right?"

"This is so, Aela Yokan," agreed Arturi, nodding.

"Then how should we expect this lioness or whatever to have existed for so long here?"

"Back in the days of my youth," Arturi started, placing his hands behind his head and reclining.  "There existed on Nykna a record of a group of individuals who were shapeshifters, revered as goddesses, who chose, often, to take on forms of fauna familiar to our people.  I believe, Hara O'Ans, that this was what you were going to ask?"

"Yep.  I remember you told me about them a couple of years ago.  You mentioned that they were pretty tough."

"This is so, Hara O'Ans.  And this, Aela Yokan, is the answer to your query.  The histories note that they were a remarkably durable people, who could exist for eons without sustenance, though nobody was sure as to how this was possible.  Despite this, they do eventually die.  This much, I can assure you.  I recall from my childhood a tale of a fallen sister among the so-called 'Daughters of Nykna.'  She fled the planet, deemed unfit for the sisterhood that held these shapeshifters together.  There are no records of her existence among the stars.  It could be, Hara O'Ans, that you've solved this mystery at long last."

Hara considered this possibility.  "Arturi, do I have your leave to contact her?"

The Author nodded.  "I will speak with D.D., Hara O'Ans.  I believe, Aela Yokan, that you and the Captain will not require the assistance of Hara O'Ans to locate the Mirzaj.  And remember, Hara O'Ans, that as you search for this woman, that you record as much data as possible.  This may be our only chance to collect information about the state of the Corangean home world.  Those at the Archive will be grateful for your assistance in cataloging such an important historical artifact."  He paused.  "I daresay, Hara O'Ans, it must be quite a thrill, being the first Corangean to set foot on Prime in 2,000 years."

Hara smiled.  "It certainly gives me something to think about.  Thank you, Arturi.  We'll speak when we return."

"Of course, Hara O'Ans.  And, to echo Sofia Minena, be safe and tread with caution.  This being may not be benign.  Adieu, Aela Yokan, Hara O'Ans." With a nod and a smile, Arturi signed off.

Hara turned to Aela and grinned.  "See?  I was right all along!"

Aela rolled her eyes.  "Sure, whatever.  I can't believe you got out of digging around the desert with us."  She walked back to the table in the common room, sat down and sipped indignantly from her mug.

"I mean, at least you've got a specific area to comb.  I've got the whole bloody continent to hunt down this lioness," he pointed out, walking over to join her.  

"Fair enough," she replied.  She considered him for a moment.  "Hara...are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" She reached out and placed her hand on his onyx thigh.

He clenched his jaw and shook his head.  She stood up and their eyes met.  "One day, Hara, you're going to have to open up.  Keeping it all inside doesn't help you feel better.  And when that day comes, I'll be waiting."  She patted his cheek gently.  "I'm going to bed.  There's a bedroll in the closet.  You can set it up next to my bed."

"Yeah," he replied.  She waited a moment, reached up and mussed his hair before turning and walking to her bedroom, leaving Hara to his thoughts.  He desperately felt like he should speak his mind about the whole deal - what had happened at Krypia, how the rehabilitation process had gone, and the anxiety that plagued him.  As much as he knew it would help him, and help ease his troubled psyche, a small, vocal part of him didn't want to do it, didn't want to betray any hint of weakness.  Or perhaps he just didn't want to make explicit that which he now suspected was the objective truth.  He was damaged.  Physically, and mentally, broken.  Hara O'Ans, the Seventh Outsider, was no longer infallible, no longer the strong, confident young man that was the Scourge of The Collective.  And that was a truth that he could not bear to face.  Shutting off the lights in the common area, Hara retreated to Aela's room to face another night of fitful rest.

The Outsiders: Year Three (pt. III)

Hara entered the pod, his heart racing.  It was impossible, he thought to himself.  Aela had insisted that no animal life existed on this planet, and truth be told, he hadn't seen any as he had made his way to them earlier that day.  And yet, with his own eyes...

"Hara?"

Startled, he looked up from his trance. Arms crossed, Aela was leaning against the doorway to her room, a towel wrapped around her, sunset crimson hair flowing to her shoulders.

"There should be a meal packed in the fridge.  Get it started?  I'll be ready in a bit."

"Oh...yeah, sure," he replied, walking to the kitchen.  Opening the fridge, he grabbed a packet and stared at the label.  Carnivore's Feast, it read, printed neatly in Seph's hand.  Smiling, he set to work.  Seph's preparation looked promising, with meats from all manner of beasts.  In a matter of minutes, he had placed their soon-to-be dinner on a platter in the cooking unit and set the parameters per the instructions charted by the Company's chef.  Returning to the fridge, he grabbed a bottle of Aela's favorite drink, beema, a traditional drink of her homeworld Cygan.  He heated the drink as she had once taught him and, splitting it between two mugs, retired to the common area.

As he sipped in silence, he thought about the lioness on the dune.  She had looked incredibly thin, framed against the dying light of the day.  Yet she was still alive and therefore, he reasoned, there had to be some source of prey, which would imply other lifeforms.  More than Aela had reason to believe existed.  This gave him pause - Aela would have been informed by Arturi, and the latter had, in Hara's experience, rarely been wrong.  The Author was well read, a nigh fanatical obsessive of all knowledge, and had surely dug deep into the histories over the course of their mission to find Prime.  D.D. and Arturi had been hunting for Prime for years, and it was unlikely, he considered, that the Author would be so remiss as to overlook life on this planet.

He looked up as Aela entered the common room, noticing, against his will, how the jumpsuit clung to the curves of her body.  Hoping she hadn't seen him staring, he slid her mug across the table as she sat across from him, placing her HoloGen between them.

"Mmm, thanks," she said, taking a sip.  "So.  How much did you get from Arturi before you hopped on down?"

"Nothing.  He was happy to have another pair of eyes surveying, but I didn't really give him time to talk," he replied.  He hadn't had much time at all on The Sabre, he reflected.  After he had arrived, he had only taken a few hours to check in and get drop ready.  His drive to get into the field had overridden his patience.

"Well, I guess we'll start from the top.  So about five years ago," she started, firing up the HoloGen, "D.D. and Arturi took the job to find the Mirzaj.  This is a rough illustration Arturi had made based on the description."  The HoloGen projected a spherical sapphire, with a radiating, golden light seemingly trapped within it, pulsing gently.  "D.D. and Arturi haven't mentioned who wants it, or why, but I bet its an old-fashioned artifact recovery contract for the Corangean Archives.  Anyway, based on what Arturi has pieced together, the Mirzaj was part of ancient Corangean culture.  And I mean, really, really old," she emphasized, sipping on the beema.  The holograms shifted to show a resplendent scene of an ancient kingdom, as Arturi had surmised.  "According to some of the oldest texts in the Archives, the ancients supposedly believed that this gem was given to them by some goddess of theirs, and that it had magical properties."

"But those accounts were written by historians hundreds of years after the fact, right?" Hara asked.

"Yeah.  By Yesa Ra, I think.  The famous historian of the first Corangean Emperor," she clarified, seeing his blank expression, an exasperated look on her face.  "How is it I know more about Corangeans than you?"

"History never agreed with me," Hara replied, grinning.  "Too many names, not enough excitement.  Anyway, I knew most of this already."  A signal from the cooking unit caught their attention.  "Sounds like dinner's ready."

"Nothing escapes you, Seven," she said, shaking her head, a smile on her lips.  She got up and headed to the kitchen.  Hara followed, sustaining the conversation.

"So what about the past five weeks?  What have you guys been up to?"

"Well," she replied, grabbing the meal out of the cooking unit.  "The first three weeks were spent locked in geosync above this continent.  We pored over the documents that Arturi had sent from the Archives.  At first, we weren't sure if we had come to right place.  Oh, Mino, that smells amazing," she added, inhaling deeply.  "Grab the plates and stuff, will you?" she asked, sliding past him to bring the platter of food to the common area.  Hara rifled through the drawers, grabbing the essentials.  She continued as he set the table.

"Anyway, we figured, based on some of the drawings from the Exodus, that we came to the right planet.  More or less.  D.D. wanted us to have an idea of where to search on the continent though.  Lero and Seph were all for combing the entire thing, but you know D.D. is all for efficiency."  She started serving dinner, precisely dividing the contents of the platter in half and heaping piles of meat on his plate.  "We'd been here for about two weeks when I found the passage in part of Yesa Ra's Summary of Agraean History that mentioned that those that lived in the fringes of the Great Desert had a gem that was, to them, a source of divine power.  D.D. figured that was good enough and chose me to come down with him to search."  She smirked.  "Should've seen Lero and Seph," she laughed, taking a bite.  She swallowed and sighed.  "This...is amazing.  How does he do it?"

"Who, Seph?  He's a magician," Hara managed, between mouthfuls.  He hadn't realized how ravished he was, and Seph's cooking, delicious as ever, had his full attention.  What had she said about the gem?  "So, wait, you read about a supposedly magical gem and figured that was the Mirzaj?"

"Well, it was the best bet we had," she countered, reaching for her mug.  "There's nothing else to really go on.  I guess it is frustrating," she added, begrudgingly.  "Two weeks, and nothing to really show for it except some pieces of old Corangean tech that either Arturi or the Archives might find interesting."

Hara took a brief reprieve from the conquest of his dinner plate.  "Aela...did Arturi mention, explicitly, that there was no life on this planet?"

She sighed.  "Hara, we've been over this.  This place is empty.  Nothing can live here.  That's why the Corangean's left."

"But what if Arturi was wrong?" He asked, standing, grabbing their empty plates and the barren platter, and heading into the kitchen.

"You know he wouldn't appreciate you saying that."  She had leaned against the doorway to the common area, sipping from her mug as he filled the washer.

"I know he's rarely wrong but...Aela, I saw something.  I saw a lioness on the westward dune, just before I came in here."  He set the washer and turned, ready to rebut the various proposed explanations, but he found her staring at him with a puzzled look on her face.

"A lioness?"

"Yeah...you know, like a female -:

"I know what a lioness is," she snapped.  He couldn't help but grin at her prickliness.  "Its just that...on and off, I've been seeing these...these mirages, even through the helmet. In the heat of day, and its always something that looked like a cat.  Just in the periphery.  I figured it was just me, and I never brought it up with D.D., because I went back and watched the tape, and nothings there.  D.D. never mentioned anything either.  It seems unlikely though, doesn't it..."

"...that I'd see the same thing," he finished.  "You know what, let's call up Arturi.  See what he thinks," he said, walking towards the communication console in the common area.  He sat down and sent a hail up to The Sabre, directly to The Author's living space.   Hara felt a soft hand on his shoulder.  He turned and Aela was looking at him as if seeing him for the first time, her brow knit.

"Hara...I just realized...I mean..." she pointed wordlessly at his leg.  He shook his head and was about to reply when the console chirped and he heard The Author's warm, cheerful voice.

"And what can I do for you tonight, Hara O'Ans?"

The Outsiders: Year Three (pt. II)

“Glad to be here, sir.”  Hara clasped his captain’s shoulder in a customary salute.  “How are things going?”

“Alright,” Aela answered, as D.D. returned to examining a large stone in his hand.  “Took us a few weeks in orbit to figure out where to look. Still haven’t nailed it down, but we think the artifact is around here.”  She gestured broadly to the northeast.  “Is that unsatisfactory?” she asked, eyebrow arched, catching the look of disbelief on Hara’s face.

“Sorry, a few weeks and that’s all you got?”

“We had to find an ancient artifact on a continent of an uninhabited world with barely any textual support.  Yeah, that’s all we got,” she fired back.  “I’m sure you were more productive on your little, ‘vacation,’ huh?”

“Vacation? I nearly-”

“Enough.”  D.D.’s voice was stern.  “Grow up. We have a job to do here.”

“She started it,” Hara mumbled.

“Did you say something, O’Ans?”

“No, sir.”  Hara glowered at a smirking Aela.

“Good," D.D. replied, glancing upwards. "Sun will be setting soon.  Yokan, take O’Ans to the lander and give him a full debrief.  Log today’s finds and get Arturi to speed.  I will join you shortly.”  

Nodding at the dismissal, Aela grabbed a nearby container and launched herself into the air, Hara in pursuit.  They flew westward at a leisurely pace.  Aela broke the silence first, her voice soft over the com.

“Listen. I’m sorry I snapped back there, it’s just been a bit frustrating here,” she said.  “How’s...you know, it going?”

Hara sighed.  He hadn’t really wanted to get into it, had hoped, prayed even, that nobody would bring it up.  Sofia had known better than to ask.  Arturi and the rest probably would have asked, but Hara had a sneaking suspicion that Sofia had gotten to them ahead of time.  But Aela and D.D. had been planetside for 2 weeks and probably hadn’t gotten the memo to leave it be.  And even if she had, Hara thought wryly, Aela wasn’t the type to stifle her curiosity, especially when she was genuinely concerned.  

“It’s...a process,” he answered slowly.  What could he say, really? “They had me conscious in about a week, and at that point they’d put the, err, my leg on.” That still took getting used to, he thought.  “Month or so of therapy to get my head straight and to get everything adjusted.  Seems to work fine now.”

“Perfectly integrated?”

“Yeah...feels like the real thing.  Hell, I’ve forgotten it exists sometimes before I look down and realize.  Anyway, I don’t really feel like...Wait, did you catch that?”

“Catch what?” she asked, turning back as she realized he was several yards behind her, pointing northward.  

“I swore I just saw...something.  Peripherally.  I…” Hara was running any assisted scan that he could of the vast expanse before him.  “I don’t know.  The computer isn’t picking anything up.”

“Hara, the place is deserted,” came the reply.

“Clever.”

“I try.  Listen, it was probably the dying light playing tricks on you.  Let’s get back to camp, get out of the suits, and I’ll fill you in until D.D. gets back,” she said, turning westward once more.  Hara reluctantly followed.  “You were saying something?”

“Huh?” he asked, absentmindedly.  “No, nothing...are you guys sure this planet is devoid of life?”

“Not devoid, not entirely.  Some vegetation has clearly endured. But, no animals or more evolved life, humanoid or otherwise,” stated Aela.  “I wouldn’t think too much about it, Hara.  The light and the atmosphere here screws with your head sometimes and the helmet fails to help sometimes.  Just something we’ve noticed of late.  And...here we are.”

They crested a rather large sand dune and Hara saw below him, in a dusty valley, the biosphere that held their camp.  The lander was the largest fixture, generating the bioshield and atmosphere necessary for their survival.  Two individual pods had been deployed for their personal quarters.  They landed outside the transitional airlock, stepped through, and waited for the atmosphere to equalize.  As they stepped into camp and walked towards the lander, they removed their helmets.  Hara closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  It was refreshing, relaxing.  But one thing was bothering him.  

“So, where’s my pod?”

Aela laughed, pausing at the door to the lander.  “We didn’t know you were coming, so we only loaded two on the lander.  Looks like you’ve got my floor for the duration of your stay.”

“Wonderful.”

“Don’t act like you aren’t thrilled,” she teased.  “There’s a slot in the charging field for the suit.  You go ahead and hit the shower, I’ll catalog the few finds we made and make my report in the meantime.  Arturi’s probably dying with anticipation up there.”

“Yeah, like the Author doesn’t have enough on his plate,” Hara replied, leaving Aela behind and  walking to the deployment bay.  He stepped into the charging field and initiated the removal procedure.  The armor disassociated with a small hiss.  Leaving it behind, Hara made his way out of the lander in his skintight jumpsuit, walking across the sands to the pod furthest away.  Entering into Aela’s living space, he found everything tidy and clean, arranged with a purpose and an exactness that he lacked.  He walked into the bedroom, disrobing, and placing his one legged jumpsuit in the cleaner.  Starting the flash cleaning, he walked into the bathroom, pausing to look in the mirror.  His metal-plated onyx leg started where his scarred olive skin ended, a stark reminder of the price of failure.  Wondering if he would ever get used to the feeling of seeing it, he stepped into the shower.  The water was surprisingly cool, and helped calm his troubled mind.  He was back in the field, doing what he loved to do.  The past was in the past, and there wasn’t anything he could do to change what had happened at Krypia.  

But even so, he thought, it hadn’t left him completely.  The leg wasn’t the only thing lost to him.  Sure, more scar tissue here and there didn’t bother him, but it was the mental agony of defeat that he couldn’t shake, a spectre on the fringe of his consciousness.  He had objected to a psychiatric evaluation at the Institute, electing to be discharged as soon as possible.  They warned him that there could have been lasting scars on his psyche, but he hadn’t cared.  He was Hara O’Ans, 7th member of the Outsiders, and not without good reason.  He led a life that most would be shy away from, one that took courage and boldness, and one that he had to return to, for the sake of his sanity.  He would be fine, he thought.  But when he was alone, when his thoughts ran rampant, he found that he was in a constant state of borderline anxiety.  A panic threatened to explode from his chest, building up like a volcano, a sinking feeling in his gut, his heartbeat racing, breathing fast, clenched jaw, thoughts a mile a minute, memories flashing before his eyes, a torrent of images, the screams in his ears, the explosions, the wicked smile, eyes of pure hatred, exultation, the blood, the ruined leg  -

Hara slammed the shower shut, panting, a hand on the wall to steady himself.  He gathered himself, waiting for the panic to ebb. He dried himself off, tossed the towel on the counter and walked out.  Reaching into the cleaner, Hara grabbed and donned his refreshed jumpsuit.  Stepping out, he saw that D.D. had returned, evidenced by the lights on in the captain’s pod.  Aela was marching across the sand towards him and looked him over approvingly.  

“Not bad.  Anyway, Arturi is demanding as ever,” she grumbled.  “Gimme 10; We’ll get some food going and recap.  D.D. wants us up and out there by sunrise,” she added, pushing past him into the pod.  Outside the biosphere, the sun was setting, illuminating the crest of another gargantuan dune in the west.  Hara was looking eastward, up at the few bright stars that shone through the dusk.  Soon, he knew, there would be others.  He grew eager at the thought - this would have been the sky that the Pioneers would have seen, that their ancestors would have looked to, not knowing that one day they would make their homes in the heavens above.  He felt small, as he often did when he considered the universe in its grand design, but the feeling was compounded by where he was.  This was Prime, the original home of the Corangean Empire, or so Arturi claimed.  I guess I’ll have to see what Aela knows, he mused.  

The light was dying when he turned to enter the pod.  On a whim he looked to the westward dune. There it was again. What he had thought he had seen in the corner of his visor. What he had been meaning to press Aela on. On the crest, an emaciated lioness stood, staring.  As the sunlight disappeared, it turned, and vanished into the night.  

Serial Sunday - The Outsiders: Year Three (pt. I)

It truly was serene, he thought, looking down at the blue marble suspended in a sea of infinite darkness, illuminated only by the star at his back.  The beauty of a planet in tranquility never failed to take his breath away, no matter how many jumps he had under his belt.  In a moment that should bring with it jangled nerves and a belly full of eels, he found himself at peace.  He took a deep breath and deliberately moved his left arm to the temple of his helmet and found the communication switch.

"How're things up there?" came a voice through the static.

"Stunning.  Am I good to go?"

"Tut, tut," replied Sofia; he could hear her smile and picture the way she rolled her eyes.  "You know as well as I that The Author has to have a full report.  Start from the top."

"Yes ma'am," he grinned behind his HUD, clinging to a jump platform on the outside of The Sabre.  Clouds drifted miles below him, obscuring the glittering city-scapes that dotted the continent which held his target.  "Start Recording.  Log: Jump 382.  Sector A0.  Star: Alpha. Planet: Prime.  This is Hara O'Ans, Company man, ID 07.  Vector Suit, flight 349.  Mission purpose: Rendezvous with D.D. and Aela for artifact recovery.  Control, am I good to depart?"

"Yeah, Hara. Oh, hold on," the com cut for a moment.  "Author says to keep all systems on this time or that when you get back up here, he'll have you compile the data for the last three weeks.  Manually.  Go when you're ready.  Be safe," she added as an afterthought, going dark.

Hara took a deep breath. Squinting intently at the illuminated landmass below him, he leaned forward and leapt, as well as he could, into the abyss.  

His suit was well-designed and the first 150 miles of his descent went swimmingly, as he noted in the log.  As he entered the atmosphere, his adrenaline started to pump.  This was the part that Hara always felt nervous about. One suit failure, a momentary lapse in concentration, or some random act of chance and he'd spiral uncontrollably to an unfortunate, untimely demise.  It had nearly happened once before, and he no desire to repeat the experience.  The readings on the HUD were giving him the all okay though, the jet wings on his pack deployed without a hitch, and as he broke the sound barrier, he yelled in exhilaration - something Arturi would surely snidely bring up later.  This was what he was born to do, he thought, as he plummeted downwards.

Before him lay a small continent, relative to what he was used to seeing.  Appropriately humble, he supposed, calmly cataloging his observations to accompany the video recording that Arturi would doubtlessly obsess over.  A partial ring of mountains was the centerpiece of the land mass with another mountain range to the north.  A canyon lay in the far west, with decaying infrastructure, visible from space, spanning its width.  Vast metropolitan areas stretched throughout the continent.  The southeast, he noted in particular, was a steel jungle.  The valley within the circular mountain range was fairly developed as well, along with the regions near the canyon and the far north.  Presently, he found himself hurtling towards the southern coastline, north of a sea dotted with thousands of islands, faster than the speed of sound.

Hara evened out his flight path and felt the propulsion systems ignite.  Following the coordinates on his HUD, he turned northeast.  

If orbital diving was his true love, atmospheric flying was his mistress.  The Vector was by far his favorite suit, capable of exquisite maneuvering, even during the drop.  And in air, it was simply beautiful.  He was executing some of his favorite acrobatics, zooming past a long-dormant volcano, when he noticed he was being hailed by Aela.  "Howdy.  What can I do for you this fine afternoon?"

"Glad you made it in one piece.  You inbound?"

"Right on time-"

"-Late-" she interjercted.

"-About 10 minutes with deceleration," he finished, feeling a familiar, affectionate pleasure for the grouch at the end of the line.  

"Fab," came the reply, as the comlink was cut.

As tall grasses gave way to fine desert sand, Hara slowed, skimming the surface of some dunes that reached skyward to kiss him, convincing lovers beckoning him back to earth.  Spying two figures in the distance, he descended, alighting with an easy grace in front of of the duo.  Wings retracted, Hara cleared his visor, winked at an unamused Aela and turned to D.D., who greeted him with a rare, but warm grin. 

"Welcome to Prime, kid."