The Planet Zelnick and its entire people are my own invention. Crais stops Marauders to gain a foothold. Set after Together.

A Peacekeeper By Any Other Name

by GitonCrais

Part 1: Going down to Zelnick

He had to go on a foray again soon. The fresh food he had brought on board on his first trip was wilting and there were only a couple of days of food-cubes left.

“Any luck in finding another Commerce planet, Talyn?”

Talyn beeped in the negative.

Crais went back to his star plotting. He had a smile on his face. He never knew that star plotting could be interesting but now that he was mapping the Uncharted Territories it felt good and pleasant. He had also come to realise that there weren’t that many habitable planets. Some were barely able to sustain life, let alone intelligent species or even animals.

Being on board Talyn had a calming effect on him. He had come aboard this vessel as an angry, vengeful, aggressive and prejudiced ex-Peacekeeper’s Captain. Now, after nearly a monen, he had turned into a calm, caring, less vindictive or aggressive individual. He could still be short-tempered, as he had proven when the two youngsters were on board but he seemed to be able to control it better now.

He had accepted Talyn as an equal species and was even sporting thoughts of peaceful co-existence with other species. He was starting to come to terms with Tauvo’s death and had more or less admitted to himself that it hadn’t been totally Crichton’s fault.

Now his anger was mainly aimed at Scorpius and even then he felt he had to curb his feelings because of his link with Talyn.

He was sure he had not lost his prejudice completely. Contact with other species had been too short to do much about that. When he went planet-side the last time he admitted to himself that he was still wearing his gloves, only to take them off once he was back on board again. Sebaceans did not like to be touched by alien species and Crais was no exception to the rule. The fear of being contaminated was even further impressed on him by the Peacekeepers. On a sub-conscious level he agreed it was totally illogical and irrational, especially since most of the people he would be meeting from now on were mainly non-Sebacean. Not all species should be considered as sub-species but years of indoctrination to the contrary couldn’t be shaken off so easily.

Because of Talyn he felt he had to change and he was willing to put quite an effort into doing so.

Talyn’s happy chirping broke his reverie. He had found a populated planet

“Talyn I will be gone for a couple of arns. We will stay in contact through the link. Stay on the dark side of the moon and if you detect any trouble, warn me but do not engage in conflict. Do you understand?” Talyn beeped once in the affirmative.

He had landed the transport-pod at the spaceport near the town. When he opened the door of the transport-pod he noticed that the heat was borderline high. He would be able to move about but he would not be comfortable. He contemplated going towards the town when the sun had dropped below the horizon but there was no telling if he would still be able to conduct his business or if the heat would diminish sufficiently. Going back to Talyn and letting the Leviathan search for another Commerce planet was not an option either. The first planet he had encountered after leaving Moya had been well over two weekens away from his exit of starburst, the next one was two solar days away from that planet and this one had been at a distance of two weekens from the last. The food was running very low and he could not risk being too far away from the next habitable planet. If Talyn had been older they would be able to starburst relatively easy between solar systems but Talyn was too young and he wouldn’t want to risk injuring the youngster. If he had to starburst let it be because it was desperately needed.

He squared his shoulders, shouldered his satchel and stepped out.

His uniform caused the people in the town to hush whenever he passed. “Yes,” he thought bitterly, “My People are a space faring, colonising race and their Peacekeepers are renowned over the known Galaxy but for all the wrong reasons from where they started off from.” Crais drew his shoulders back and pretended not to notice the baleful stares that were thrown at him.

The planet catered more for space-travel than the first planet he had landed on. This time he made sure to stock up well on more durable goods alongside the fresh foods. Talyn had not grown a cool-storage area yet but that was only a matter of time. The shopkeeper promised to have the goods delivered at his transport-pod after two arns.

He could hardly wait to get back on board. The heat was oppressive and he wiped his brow continuously, much to the amusement of some of the shopkeepers who seem to take their time to conclude the businesses. He needed some cold refreshments, anything to cool him down. The deliveries to his pod wouldn’t be made for another one and a half arns.

He spotted the guesthouse across the street. It was cooler inside but not by much.

According to the landlord there was no ice available, so, he had to settle for a lukewarm glass of Frelip Nectar, which was too sweet for this weather. Well, it was better than nothing.

He brought the glass over to an empty table at the back of the guesthouse. It was the coolest spot so far. Wearily he sank down in his chair, leaned back and half closed his eyes. With his mouth half open, he tried to circulate cooler air in his lungs. The rate of his heartbeat slowed a little, his breathing and the pounding headache eased some and the heat became almost tolerable.

“What are we going to do?” He heard someone whisper from a table nearby.

He shifted his gaze surreptitiously, his hooded eyes giving the impression that he was dozing or asleep.

Two men sat at a table about six paces away from his and whispered quietly at each other. Crais’ hearing had always been exceptional, even for a Sebacean and his curiosity was peaked by the remark; anything to stop him thinking about the heat.

“I don’t know but this can’t go on much longer. Some people say that they have already taken over two towns in the north and that this town is their next objective.”

“There is not much we can do about it. Where are we to go? Who can give us the guarantee it will be any better in the next town or that they won’t go there or, worse, that they are already there? Can you answer me that?”

“Grelik, keep your voice down! You don’t know who might be listening.” He glanced over at Crais who pretended to be asleep. The man turned back to his companion, “If only we could get enough people together to break into their stronghold…”

“You don’t know what you are saying! Look what happened to Shang’ar! The town had raised a militia to defend the city. They were not going to surrender and then Shang’ar was laid in ruins!”

“We must be able to do something…”

His companion reacted with a resigned shrug of his shoulders and they looked in silence at the drinks they were holding.

For a microt Crais was tempted to go over there and find out more about their conversation, and who or what was causing their problems. Then he decided against it. This was obviously an internal affair, he was an outsider and might be considered a spy if he showed too much interest. Besides he longed to get off this planet.

Another half arn went by and Crais decided to go back to his pod. The delivery should be arriving soon and the two men had stopped discussing the problem. He rose and crossed the floor to the exit.

Near the door sat a group of six boisterous men who were drinking and singing loudly, much to the chagrin of the other people in the place. Crais had noticed them earlier but had paid them no attention.

When he passed the group his coat brushed one of the men who jumped up from his chair and turned to Crais. He didn’t seem to be impressed or in fear of Crais’ uniform, which surprised the latter. He towered head and shoulders over Crais and Crais was not a very short person. His width was almost twice as wide as Crais’.

“Can’t you look where you are going,” glowered the man in Crais’ face.

Crais looked up in the man’s face with a steady calm, “If I have offended you I apologize.”

The man turned laughingly to his companions, “Hear that? The little man apologizes.”

Inwardly Crais bristled at the affront but now was not the time to pick a fight.

That option was taken away from him. The man turned back to Crais and without warning lunged at him.

Crais had already taken a step back for although he didn’t want to be drawn into a fight; he had considered the man a potential enemy and was prepared for him. When the man came for him, he ducked and sidestepped. The man’s arms closed over thin air. Crais had taken measure of his opponent, calculating size, strength and speed. Training and sparring in his off-duty time when he wasn't on campaign had kept him fit and combat-ready, this now stood him in good stead.

The man wasn’t too pleased that a shorter man could elude him that easily and with an evil grin he moved towards Crais again, this time his movements were slower and more deliberate.

Crais waited. When the man lunged with one hand in a punching motion while the other moved sideways where he suspected Crais to be diving to Crais dropped to all fours and swiped at the man’s legs, connecting solidly with one of the knees. When the other man was off balance Crais rose in one fluid motion and the open Panthak jab under the jawbone brought the other man down nicely.

Crais seemed hardly out of breath when he surveyed the room with a look that said “any more takers?” When nobody moved, he turned back to the door to leave.

One of the companions of the man who was brought down attacked him while his back was turned but Crais had anticipated that. When he felt the man’s hands touch his shoulders he leant backwards and stepped hard with the heel of his boot on the man’s instep. The man let out a howl and loosened his grip on Crais. Crais took the man’s right arm, pulled it forwards and heaved him with ease over his shoulders before letting him crash into the door. His head connected with the door, there was a thud and another crumpled heap lay silent.

He turned to the other four at the table. One of the men who had intended to get up to help his friends now slowly sat down again when he looked at the dark cloud that passed over Crais’ face. Contained anger was showing in Crais’ eyes and his breathing was more rapid. The exertion had made him too warm and he didn’t relish it at all. At the moment he was still in control and had not used his full strength to take out his opponents but there was no telling what would happen to the next person who tried to accost him.

No one at the table tried their luck, they all looked at him silently while his stare bore down on them.

He was warned when on the point of turning to leave he saw one of the men look shiftily to his right shoulder. He ducked and sidestepped to the left but could not avoid that part of a chair contacted heavily with his right shoulder. His arm went numb.

Due to his size and strength, the first man had regained consciousness sooner than Crais had anticipated and had snug up behind him.

Crais felt for his right shoulder while stepping away from the brute who grinned maliciously at him. It would hurt like Hezmana for a little while but didn’t seem to be broken. There was no time to think about it at the moment.

He dropped his shoulder a bit more and put a painful expression on his face. The ruse worked.

The man moved forward and tried to grab his right shoulder. Crais moved forward too, moving his left shoulder under the man’s armpit turned and faced away from the man. He took hold of the man’s left wrist, used two fingers to apply pressure on two pressure-point in the man’s wrist, which resulted in a yell of pain and slackening of the man’s arm’s muscles, then he took hold of the man’s whole arm, twisted it and threw him over his shoulder with almost the same ease as he had done to the other man. The man crashed into a table and lay dazed on it, this time Crais took no chances and followed up on his action by planting his left elbow with force on the man’s chest. He heard a crack and the body went limp. A quick glance told him the man wasn’t dead but he wouldn’t be trying to pick a fight in the near future either.

Breathing heavily through his nostrils and trying to suppress the pain in his shoulder by sheer will Crais now turned to the other four, “I would suggest you take your two comrades home… Now!” He glared at them, “Before I get my second wind back and this time I will not wait until another one of you decide to try his luck with me. Do I make myself clear?” Two of them nodded silently. “Then move!” He had not raised his voice by much but the last command had sounded like a thunderclap.

The other four scrambled away from the table and moved over to get their friends out. One turned to Crais, trying to say something, but Crais just stared at him and growled lowly. It was enough to hasten the men to leave the guesthouse quickly before “the madman” followed up on his threat.

Crais felt drained and clutched his shoulder. One of the other guests came over to ask if he was all right. He straightened up, nodded briefly and turned towards the door to leave.

The fight and the heat had taken their toll. He could feel his face flush red, perspiration showed on his brow and the room seemed to spin. He reeled and steadied himself on the back of a chair.

“Here, let me help you,” a surprisingly gentle voice said, “Please, sit down.”

Crais looked up and saw the man he had seen talking earlier.

“I will be all right in a minute,” Crais said hoarsely, not even believing his own words.

“You will feel better once you have rested a bit.”

Crais hated to admit that he did need a small respite. He felt himself being gently pushed in a chair and after a motioning from the man a glass of water was pressed in his left hand. Automatically he brought the glass to his lips and was surprised to taste ice-cold water. It revived his flagging spirits and he nearly finished it in one gulp. It helped cool him down and gratefully he looked up at the man who ordered another glass.

His head was feeling less hot and slowly Crais regained his senses only to be reminded too soon of the throbbing pain in his shoulder. His mind was assaulted by frantic questions of Talyn through his transponder. Although the link was weak at this distance, the speed of Talyn’s questions made him slightly dizzy. Silently he assured the youngster that he was all right.

“Are you in pain,” asked the man in response to Crais’ clouded expression when Talyn questioned him.

“Just a minor discomfort that will pass soon. Thank you for your concern but I have to be going now.” He made to stand up but was still not steady on his feet and sat down again.

“A healer should see about your shoulder,” said the man.

Crais just wanted to get off this planet as soon as possible but a visit to the healer’s wouldn’t do much harm either. He nodded in reply.

“My name is Janek and yours?” asked the man while he helped Crais to his feet.

“Bialar,” he answered curtly, deliberately only giving his first name.

When they walked down the street to the healer’s shop Crais wondered why they had all turned friendly. When he had walked into the guesthouse it had been obvious that his presence was not welcomed due to the uniform he wore. This man in particularly had eyed him with mistrust. He suspected that the fight had something to do with it.

The healer’s shop was cool inside, being build against a rock face helped create this effect and Crais could feel his body-temperature drop slowly. After the exertions of the fight the short walk in the late afternoon heat to the healer’s shop had not been a pleasant one. He had started to feel dizzy and disorientated.

She treated his shoulder, “You will feel sore for a couple of days,” Crais nodded knowingly, he had been there before. “The numbness will wear off soon. This ointment should help ease it. You are Sebecean, aren’t you?” Crais nodded wearily. If it wasn’t obvious from his physique his uniform must be a dead give-away. “This planet is not good for you.”

“That is quite obvious,” snorted Crais, his patience growing thin.

“If you intent to stay longer, these herbs might help to bring down your body temperature. It is normally used in bringing down fever and should not be harmful to you. It should be infused by hot water, after that it can be drunk cold.”

She handed him a bag of herbs. Crais’ first reaction was to say “No”. He had no intention to stay here longer than was absolutely necessary, but the herbs would come in handy when he would visit other planets with the same temperature. He accepted the bag gracefully.

When they left the healer’s shop darkness had fallen and although it was still warm outside Crais felt better with the drop of temperature.

“Darkness falls quickly here on Zelnick,” said Janek next to him. Crais had almost forgotten about him. “Where are you staying,” he asked.

“I am not staying anywhere,” answered Crais grumpily, “My transport pod is at the spaceport and I will be heading there now. My… crew is waiting for me.”

“It’s very dark and the roads are treacherous…”

Crais spun to him, “Are you threatening me?”

“No, just warning you. The two men you bested in the guesthouse belong to a band of men who don’t take kindly to being opposed and they might be waiting for you.”

Ah, now the turn-about became clear. “I am not interested in you internal disputes,” he said, not feigning that he had not overheard the earlier conversation.

Janek now dropped all the pretext of being a concerned townsman, “We need someone like you, Bialar. We are desperate!”

“How do you know I am the man for the job? Just because I can outfight two men in their cups? A stranger? You must be desperate,” he ended with a sarcastic sneer.

Janek dropped his voice, “We are. We don’t have anyone who can lead us.”

“And you think I can?”

“You are a soldier, an officer. You are trained to fight and to lead. You can bring in the other Peacekeepers to help us defeat them. Please!”

His voice had risen and Crais was worried that they could be overheard, “Is there somewhere private we can talk?”

The joy he saw on the man’s face made him want to retract his words.

“Yes, sure, my house is not far from here.”

With a sigh Crais followed Janek.

Part 2: The problem

Janek’s house was not that much further down the street and to Crais’ relief it was reasonably cool inside.

He followed Janek into the kitchen. While Janek prepared some food, Crais leaned arms akimbo against the counter where he had a good view of the door and the two windows.

“So, what’s this about then?”

“You don’t mince words.”

“Waiting too long for information might get you killed,” Crais said matter-of-factly, “Care to enlighten me on the situation?”

“Can we eat first?”

Crais grew impatient, “I want to get back to my ship as soon as possible. We can be busy and talk at the same time.”

Janek shrugged his shoulders, such impatience but they needed his help.

“They came from the north about 6 monens ago,” he started while stirring the brew, “Shang’ar was the first city they attacked. They had walked up to the city with a band nearly a thousand men strong. Before the city-gates they proclaimed that should Shang’ar surrender to their authority they would spare the city and their inhabitants. The elders of Shang’ar laughed at first. What was a ragtag band going to do against the might of the city and what did they intent once they had control of it?

The terms were simple: surrender and the city would be left intact and its citizens not harmed. They asked a stipend of 40 percent of all profits, every 20^th adult male would be taken to their stronghold plus a number of women.

Not surrendering would mean that they would attack, raze the city to the ground and take everyone still left alive as slaves to their stronghold. They gave the city three days to think this over.

The terms were so preposterous that in a council meeting the elders decided to put a militia together who could enforce the guards to the city and expel the band. They were expected to outnumber the band outside by at least five to one.

They were able to raise a sufficient number of men who were prepared to fight in defence of the city.

When the three days had expired the leader of the band again stood in front of the city-gates. The elders stood above him on the battlements and shouted down that they would never surrender and were prepared to fight.

The leader of the band turned on his heels and walked back to his men. The elders turned to each other and laughed. What were they going to do against city-walls and a fighting force five times their size?

Soon it became apparent what they had in mind. A huge machine was brought out of the forest where they had been hiding it. It was positioned at a fair distance from the city-gates and then the leader dropped his upraised hand. The machine spewed large balls over fire, which dropped over the city-walls. Whatever it hit burst into flames. Water could not douse it. People were incinerated on the spot. The people could only open the gates wide and flee the city. There was nothing they could do against it. Staying within the city-walls would be certain death.

When the people streamed out of the gates those who were still standing of the guardsmen and the militia vaulted a brave attack at the marauding band but to no avail. Their archers took most of the men out; the rest was hacked to pieces. Afterwards, as they had promised, the band took the remainder of the people who had survived as slaves. The city was razed to the ground. There is nothing left to remind us of the great city Shang’ar”

Janek had fallen silent. He was still stirring the brew in the pot but Crais doubted if he saw it.

Crais had heard of weapons of destruction of that kind. There was hardly any protection from their might. The only weakness was the carrier, whether machine or personally held, if that could be destroyed the threat was over. It could be done but it normally wasn’t easy to get near it. Its devastation was such that even the Peacekeepers had not considered using it even though they possessed the knowledge of its workings.

Crais coughed, drawing the man’s attention, “How did you come by this information?”

Janek roused himself and looked sadly at Crais, “My brother lived in Shang’ar. He and several lived to escape and tell the tale. He died soon after arriving here because of his injuries.”

“I’m sorry,” said Crais softly, he knew what is was like to lose a brother, “I think the marauders left those men alive on purpose.” Janek looked up at him with a questioning frown.

Crais continued, “They let the men escape deliberately. They’re scare-tactics. I assume that the other two cities surrendered without putting up a fight?” When Janek nodded, Crais said, “By letting those men “escape” they were assured of it. No city would want to face devastation on such a scale. Had nobody survived they could never have taken over the other cities as easily.”

Crais started pacing the floor, then faced Janek, “Does anyone know how far away they are from this city?”

“There are only rumours. Some say they are only weekens away, others have them standing at the city-gates tomorrow.”

Crais gave a rueful smile, “That is to be suspected.”

“Will you help us?”

Crais didn’t take long to consider, “Yes, if I can.”

There was hope on Janek’s face, “Will you bring your forces in to help us?”

There was a tightening of Crais’ jaw-muscles. “I have to make some things clear for you before you accept my help. In the first place, if you really knew how the Peacekeepers work and I think you know their reputation, I could see it in the faces of the people when I pass them, you wouldn’t be so willing to have them join in. The Peacekeepers would help you get rid of the marauders, eventually, then they will demand their price and that might be higher than the price the marauders are asking from you now.”

Janek was confused, “You talk as if you are not a Peacekeeper, yet you wear the uniform.”

Crais gave a weak smile, how much would he tell him? “You are right. I was a Peacekeeper but I am not a Peacekeeper any more. The only assistance I might be able to offer you is to give my expertise of leading you, as you put forward earlier in the evening. The actual fighting and defending have to come from people like you who don’t want to be enslaved.”

Janek looked down in despair, “So, there is only you?”

“Yes,” Crais said calmly, “If you can provide me with the men brave or foolish enough to fight then I am willing to lead them and hopefully defeat the marauding band. They have to be willing to accept my command without question. If you can’t get the men together than forget we had this conversation and I will go back to my ship and everything will be as it was this afternoon.”

"Why would they not accept your command?"

Crais threw his hands up in exasperation, "Janek, I do not doubt your bravery nor your determination to free the land of the marauders but your honesty…"

"My honesty…" spluttered Janek.

"Yes, you can't tell me that you trusted me when I walked into the guesthouse earlier in the day."

"Well, I didn't know you…"

Crais' face turned thunderous, "You know about the Peacekeepers, your whole city knows about them and their reputation. Only after I had the fight with the men in the bar were you willing to ask for my help. After the fight the barman finally gave me something to drink that was cold instead of warm. After the fight… you want me to continue? Before the fight nobody would talk to me if they could help it. I have noticed the stares people gave me when I walked through the city. They will not trust Peacekeepers. They see a Peacekeeper's uniform and it is an almost a "lock your children away"-policy. And then you ask me "why would they not let you lead"? Janek, if we are to work together then we have to trust each other and not be encumbered by pleasantries. Is that understood?"

Janek looked down. Bialar was right, he should not have asked such a naive question.

When he looked up at Crais again he saw him waiting for an answer. "You are right Bialar. It will not happen again in future."

He saw a slight smile appear on Crais' face, "Good, because if we stick with pleasantries instead of the stark naked truth we will all be dead." He waited before continuing, "So, is there a possibility of getting enough people together?"

"I have been trying to get people together. It is difficult, they are all afraid."

"As they should be but how many are willing to stand and fight?"

Janek shuffled his feet and a feeling of dread came over Crais, "How many, Janek?"

"Twenty but they are all willing…" he stumbled.

"Twenty? Against, what, a force of over a thousand?"

Janek looked down dejectedly, "Twenty is all I could muster."

Crais took a deep breath, "Well, let's meet them then and maybe we can get some more."

Janek looked up with hope in his eyes, "You mean we can do it?"

"We might. It depends on all the information we can get. Oh, and I would look after the stew if you want to offer some for to me to eat tonight."

He smiled when he saw Janek busy with the stew, his mind taken off the problem for the moment and tending after something as silly as not burning the food. Crais sat down at the table and contemplated the situation.

Dinner was good, especially after weekens of food-cubes and near starvation. Janek went back to their discussion before they had something to eat, "Do you think it could really work?"

Crais thought about it, "I have heard reports of weapons like that and there is not a lot of defence against it but as with all weapons there has to be a flaw. Of the twenty people you've mentioned is there anyone from Shang'ar?"

"Why yes, two actually."

"Good we might need their reports on what has happened at Shang'ar. It might show us a way how to defeat the Marauders. Let us concentrate on those reports first, after that we can decide on a course of action. Also, tomorrow you will have to show me the layout of the city and the surrounding area. If they come here we need to know how we can anticipate where the attack might come from. Can you get the two men to come round tonight?"

"I… think so."

"Fine. After we had a word with them and have seen the lay of the land, then we talk to the other eighteen."

Part 3: More information

Half an arn later Janek was back at the house with two men. When he walked into the living room where he had left Crais he found it empty. Had the former Peacekeeper Captain already abandoned their cause before it had even begun? He was on the point on leaving the room to look for him when Crais appeared in the doorway.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” he said in a quiet voice, his presence commanding.

The other two men jumped up from their seats, “Janek, are you out of your mind? That’s a Peacekeeper!”

“Former Peacekeeper,” said Crais smoothly.

“Once a Peacekeeper always a Peacekeeper,” said one of the men vehemently.

“You have had dealing with other Peacekeepers,” asked Crais.

“No, but they say…”

“It’s true what they say,” said Crais, “and you should be wary of them but I’m not a Peacekeeper anymore and I believe you have a situation on your hands which might acquire my assistance. Am I right?”

“How do we know we can trust you not to bring any more Peacekeepers down to the planet?”

“You don’t. I can only give you my word that I am the only one here. You will have to trust me in the same way that I have to trust you. Who assures me that one of you is not a member of the band of marauders waiting to attack?”

The men turned red in the face, “Janek, we don’t have to come here to be insulted…”

Crais walked further into the room and sat in the only chair that faced the door and windows, “I believe you, gentlemen. Now, will you sit down and then we can discuss the plan.”

With reluctance the other two men sat down while Janek busied himself with refreshments. He looked at his friends and saw they looked at Crais with suspicion. Now he could understand what Crais had meant and he remembered that he had mistrusted the man at first as well and that it had been mainly because of the uniform Crais wore but that he had begun to trust the man when he started talking to him. Crais’ words had given him hope and what they now needed was someone who could lead them. Crais was trained for it. He brought the drinks to the table, passed them around and sat down himself. He looked at Crais and noticed that the man was still heavily perspiring but had not made any move to loosen his collar.

Crais had waited until Janek sat down, “Janek tells me that you had been able to escape Shang’ar when it fell?” Both men nodded. Crais continued, “Can you tell me what happened?”

One of the men became their spokesman, introduced himself as Zenek and the other as Valek, and told Crais the same story he had heard Janek recount to him earlier in the evening. Crais listened carefully as if he had heard the story for the first time, not once interrupting Zenek. When he had finished Crais asked, “When they brought the machine out of the forest how far was it away from the city?”
”About 500 paces.”

“When it was spewing fireballs over the walls did you notice with which intervals?”

“Well, we weren’t actually timing…”

“Did you notice or not?”

“Well, it didn’t seem to be continuous. Maybe with an interval of a microt… but what does have this have to do with…”

“If it wasn’t continuous there might be a hope of jamming the controls if we can get close enough,” interrupted Crais, “Do you have any idea where they took the other people?”

“We assume it was north of Shang’ar, they walked in that direction.”

“What lies to the north of Shang’ar?” The men looked at him questioningly. “I mean is it open country or are there mountains to the north? You must understand I’m not familiar with your country yet.”

“The plains are to the north, the mountains are south from here.”

Crais smiled, “That could be to our advantage in the long run. Janek tells me that there are rumours that they might come further south. How substantial are these rumours?”

“We’ve had people coming from further north with stories that two cities after Shang’ar have already been taken. The last one is only two weekens away from here.”

“Any more cities between here and the last one they took?”

“No, that’s why we think that this city is the next one they are going to attack.”

Crais stroked his goatee in thought, “How far away was the second City from Shag’ar?”

“About three weekens.”

“And when did they attack it?”

“About five and a half weekens after Shang’ar.”

“And the next city?”

Finally Zenek saw where Crais’ questioning was leading him, “The distance was about the same but they didn’t attack until nearly nine and a half weekens after the last. That was almost 9 weekens ago.”

Crais had already calculated the intervals between attacks, “If they are going to attack it will be within a weeken and a half, possibly a weeken.” When he saw the puzzled look on their faces he explained, “Looking at the distances involved and the intervals of the attacks it is quite obvious what they are doing. After they attacked Shang’ar they had a big booty, people and goods I presume, so the main force stayed behind while part of their force brought the booty north to their stronghold and came back to join the main force.

They then proceeded to the next city where, I assume, the same tactics of the standard three days option was used. This time they did not have to transport people, only goods. The main force stayed behind while the smaller force was meeting up with the Collectors, which must have proceeded a little past Shang’ar. The same tactic is deployed for the next city. Only it takes the Collectors a little longer to catch up with them. They have probably two forces of those, one waiting near the last ransacked city and one, which will then proceed to take it to their stronghold.

So, by my calculations they would have moved the smaller force two weekens to the north, make the pass to the next group who will meet up with the Collectors and comes back to the main force, two weekens go by while they join the main force and the Collectors joins up with the last group of Collectors. They wait until the closest group of Collectors is back to join up with the main force, which will take four weekens, then they will move to this city while they leave the small group of Collectors again behind near the last city they have ransacked, which is only two weekens away from the last city. Since the last city was ransacked about 9 weekens ago it will give us about a weeken to prepare. Hopefully they are not going to change their tactics.”

Valek had already shut down when Crais started to explain it in numbers, the others had some problems following the equations but trusted Crais enough to make the right calculations, “That doesn’t give us much time.”

“No,” said Crais, “We haven’t but it is better than nothing. Valek and Zenek, tomorrow or tonight if possible, try and get as many men together who are still willing to fight. We don’t want martyrs. Janek and I will survey the area tomorrow and see what their best attack-vantage might be. Then tomorrow night we come back here and see if we can work out a plan. If they haven’t changed their attack-plans it might work in our advantage. See you tomorrow gentlemen?”

After Valek and Zelek had left, Janek walked back to the living room and found Crais holding his head in his hands and he was worried that Crais might have found a flaw in his thinking and was now having second thoughts. “Bialar,” he asked tentatively, “Is it the plan…”

When Crais looked up he seemed flustered, “Is it always this warm on this planet at night?”

“No, tonight is quite a cold evening. It is normally warmer. Why?”

Crais wanted to shout in frustration, why had he agreed to help Janek and his men? At least a whole more weeken on a planet, which considered this temperature cool? He remembered the herbs given to him by the healer and started to pat his pockets.

“I am a Sebecean. We don’t… like the temperature this high. Could you boil me some water and drop some of the herbs the healer has given to me in it?”

Janek was confused until he remembered the healer’s words and went swiftly into the kitchen with the herbs to do as Crais had asked.

Crais leant back in chair and closed his eyes. He tried to relax, to bring his temperature down and ease the pounding in his head. His mouth was half open to cool the air entering his lungs. His hand moved to the collar of his uniform and started to loosen it.

He was startled when Janek said to him from the doorway, “Why do you wear such heavy garments if you don’t like the heat?”

“It’s the only ones I have,” admitted Crais softly, “And they carry the tools of my trade in them.”

“Since we are of almost similar build, I could give you some of mine to wear while you are here,” said Janek.

“It would be appreciated,” said Crais. When Janek handed him the brew to drink, he let it cool before drinking it. At first he didn’t notice anything different but after about half an arn he could feel his temperature go down. It was still a little higher than normal but at least it was tolerable now. The pounding in his head seemed to diminish slightly.

It was logical that he stayed the night at Janek’s. He informed Talyn that he would be on the planet a little while longer than anticipated but that the youngster wasn’t to worry. Talyn beeped in panic for a while but Crais managed to put him at ease. He would stay in touch with him regularly but his presence was wanted here for the moment.

Part 4: Layout of the land, a plan is formed

He woke up early in the morning only briefly wondering where he was. His sleep had not been easy, with the oppressive heat and he had missed Talyn’s gentle movements.

Janek had left him some garments which were more suited to this weather although Janek had explained to him that the clothes he would be wearing were considered quite light for this time of the year by the people of Zelnick. Crais was grateful he wasn’t stranded on this planet forever.

He washed and changed quickly in his new clothes. It felt strange to wear civilian clothes after a lifetime of wearing uniforms. The clothes were lighter in texture and bright in colour, they reminded him of the clothes he had worn as a young boy.

He folded his uniform neatly and was securing his hidden weapons under his new garments. His combat-knife fitted easily in the belt at the back and was concealed by the folds of his shirt. His two throwing knives were concealed in the belt at the front. The throwing stars he secured to the strap on his left forearm and the spring-knife to his right forearm, the long loose sleeves hid them adequately from sight.

He was going to practice with them first, to make sure they wouldn’t get stuck in the loose folds before trusting them in combat.

The short, thin sword fitted in his normal holder in his boot. He would not wear the soft low shoes worn by the inhabitants. He had tucked his trouser legs inside the boots to have easy access to his sword if necessity warranted it. He tucked his pulse gun inside his shirt. He didn't want to be without it but he didn't want to show it openly either.

To hide his transponder he wore a brightly coloured scarf around his neck. To help conceal it further he had taken his hair out of the queue and had bound it with a single cord at the back. A wild mane of curly hair was now draped over his shoulders.

He focused on a point on the wall and tried out the effectiveness of the weapons on his arms. The first two tries were failures but after that he got the flow of flicking his sleeve up and then flexing his muscles quickly to activate the mechanisms, which would release the weapons.

He contacted Talyn to assure him that he was all right and to check on the youngster. Talyn was worried being left on his own but Crais managed to calm him down and promised to contact him during the day. He then did his morning ritual of stretching his muscles and getting acquainted to the new clothes at the same time.

When Janek came to his room he found that Crais was up and waiting. The clothes had transformed Crais completely. No longer did he resemble a Peacekeeper, more like a sea-captain or a pirate even, though it was obvious that Crais wasn’t used to such clothes. Janek was surprised to see the abundance of curly, loose hair falling over his shoulders. He still looked very commanding and in charge, not someone to mess with!

“You look… different,” said Janek.

Crais sneered, “Not like a Peacekeeper anymore!”

“It’s not that. You seemed to look even more in command in this outfit.”

Crais snorted, “The clothes are more… comfortable for this weather but it is not me. Let’s get started,” he said, “The more we can do before the sun reaches its zenith the better.”

On Crais’ insistence the evening before, Janek had prepared a packed breakfast and had filled another flask with the elixir, which should keep Crais’ tolerance to the heat in check.

When they left the house Crais was aware of the stares people gave him when he passed them but this time it was not in fear, awe or disgust with his Peacekeeper’s uniform. The women seemed to regard him with disguised admiration and the men with ill-disguised jealousy. He smiled, he could live with that, and it made a nice change.

Although Zelnick was a Commerce planet, which catered for space faring species they were themselves not inclined that way. As a matter of fact, in technology they were quite backwards and for a mode of transportation Janek had secured two handoks. They were big beasts, four legged, slim with big manes of hair on the ridge of their long necks. Crais had ridden on similar animals on other planets and had enjoyed them. He ran his fingers over the flanks and legs of the animals, feeling their raw power underneath his fingertips. They would be fast.

“Have you ridden on these before,” asked Janek.

“On beasts quite similar, yes,” answered Crais with a rare smile.

They rode their handoks out of the North gate and once on the road Crais spurred his handok in a canter. Had the situation not been so grave he would enjoy the ride more. To the west of the city he could see high, steep slopes and asked Janek about them.

“It goes on for nearly half a day’s ride. The slope to the west of the city is quite steep and is about an arn’s ride away.”

Crais nodded, “What lies to the west?” He thought he had seen the shimmer of water when he landed the pod.

“Its’ a small river. One can cross it by handok but around this time of year it is not advisable, the undercurrent is quite strong.”

“Good,” answered Crais and spurred his handok into a gallop. He wanted to see where the slope and the river met and if there was much distance between them. After about two arns he stopped at a slight bend in the road. The width between the river and the steep slope was about a hundred paces and then seemed to run parallel from that point onwards.

Crais stood in his stirrups and surveyed the countryside. The last half arn or so the corridor between the river and the slopes had been narrowing down to come to this point. If what Janek and the others had said was right the marauders had to bring the machine up to about 500 paces from the city to be effective and the slope near the city had been further away than that and too steep. Crais was sure they wouldn’t come that way.

He was also sure that they wouldn’t come by water. The river was too shallow and too wild to risk the machine by going that way.

The corridor was the most obvious choice. He was also sure that they would come from this way trusting to the fear their machine had instilled in the other two cities.

He turned to Janek, “If we can get the men together we should be able to defend our position here.”

“Here?” asked Janek disbelievingly.

“Yes. You have a natural defence here. They wouldn’t come by river; the machine would be too vulnerable to do so. The slopes are to steep. The corridor is narrow and I think they are counting on finding no resistance. If we can get enough men together, we can dig trenches here to stop the machine from passing and a defence a bit further back, before the road bends, for all who march up to the city. Do you have guns or rifles or long range fire-power?”

“No, we never had need of them.”

“Archers?”

“Yes, it is not a big contingent but we do have them.”

“It will have to do. We can place them on top of the slopes to deter some of the movement forward. Tell me, what kind of weapons are at your disposal in the city?”

Janek thought aloud, “Well, apart form the archers, we have swords, knives, pikes.”

“Great,” thought Crais, “we are going back to basics here. And in this heat!” He took a swig from the bottle as he had been doing on a regular basis, surprising Janek that he had been able to do so at full gallop.

After he stoppered the flask Crais turned to Janek, “We have to return to the city immediately and get the men together. We have to move fast if the defences are to be effective at all.”

They turned their handoks and went back.

Part 5: The rally

The other two men had rounded up the others and were waiting at Janek’s front door when they came back.

Valek looked at surprise at Crais’ outfit, there was approval in his eyes. Crais ignored the stare.

Once inside Crais explained his plan. They needed more men and fast. They needed to convince the Elders that to defend the city they had to make a stand far away from the city and still leave men behind inside. He needed men to dig the trenches and build the second defence. The men should be prepared to work through the night as well and it all had to be in place in about three days. Any longer for the marauders to show up was a bonus.

Some of the men present were quite excited by the prospect of a possibility of beating the marauders. The two men from Shang’ar had witnessed the devastation the machine could havoc and were keen to get their own back.

Some others were still not sure about Crais’ plan. Some had seen him come in dressed as a Peacekeeper’s Captain. Others had misgivings that they couldn’t convince the Elders or get enough men together.

Janel tried to convince them. He had ridden with Bialar, had seen the layout of the land and had been able to visualise the weaknesses and the strengths Bialar had pointed out. It was possible but they had to act fast. When Crais listened to him he was convinced that, had Janek lived in other surroundings, he would make a fine commander and leader. The men were listening to him.

“How do we know we can trust Bialar?” One of the men shouted from the back of the room.

Crais calmly turned his gaze on him, “I am an outsider and I don’t like the temperature on your planet. My wish is to get off this planet as fast as possible. I have also pledged my word to help. I do not give that so easily, however, if you don’t want my help and just be another city under their thrall, please tell me to leave and I will do so.”

The men fell silent. One of them piped up, “And when they come, where will you be? In the city?”

Anger smouldered in Crais’ eyes, “As your commander I will be right at the front. Any objections to that?” The men shuffled their feet, embarrassed that one of them had raised that question. “Good! Now we have to convince the Elders.”

One of the men (pro-Bialar’s-plan fortunately) had a wife whose brother was in the council, who would try and arrange a meeting as soon as possible.

“Make it very soon,” insisted Crais, “and try and get more men together. We will need them and we can’t wait for the Elder’s answers.”

After the men had left Crais closed his eyes for a moment. It was only a little after midday and already he felt drained by the heat.

“Are you sure it will work,” asked Janek when he entered the room.

Crais opened his eyes, “It will, once we get things underway.”

“I hope it does.”

“So do I.”

They had managed to get the Elders together for an emergency meeting just an arn after the meeting in Janek’s house. After Crais had been introduced as “Bialar, a stranger, come to help us” (they had decided that it would be wiser not to stress the fact that he was an ex-Peacekeeper and hopefully none of the Elders had seen him the day before in his uniform), the men started to discuss the situation.

Crais had never been a very patient man and after about half an arn of listening to the Elders arguing about who should be in charge of the guards in the city without even touching on the defences outside the city, his patience had been worn away until it was almost non-existent. Before he could say anything, Janek stood up.

“Esteemed gentlemen, we understand your need for defences within the city but we have to work quickly on the defence of the city. And the best defence is not found within the walls of the city but a couple of arns ride outside the city!”

“Who says,” one of the Elders asked looking askance at Crais, “It could be a ploy to get the guards out and leave the city defenceless.”

“Bialar and I…”

“What does Bialar know? Who is he anyway?”

“Bialar is a commander from the south, when he heard about our plight he...”

“If he is a commander why isn’t he commanding?” He sniggered, it was the same Elder who had been asking the impertinent questions.

Janek didn’t have an answer immediately. Crais spoke up this time. His calm and sonorous voice filled the room, “I was wounded in the last campaign. A slow trek north helped me in my recuperation. It was only by chance that I overheard your plight.”

“And what is in it for you?”

“If we can stop them in their tracks here, the south will also be safe. My help here will also safe my city.”

“And if we don’t want or need your help?”

“Then I leave now and make preparations for my own city to stand and fight!” He had said the last in an arrogant way as if he didn’t really cared what happened to this city but that “his” city was not going to give in without a fight.

It seemed to sway the other Elders, “How long do we have before the marauders arrive?”

“Four to eight solar days.”

“And how long will it take to put up the defences?”

“With enough women and men and if they are willing to work through the night we should be able to do it in two.”

“You want the women to fight too?” it was obvious that in this culture the division between male and females was still in place.

“If they could, why not? But it would be mainly to get the defences in place in time.”

They pondered his proposals, “Are you sure it will work?”

“If we get everything in place in time, yes. You have natural defences to the north, it would be a shame to waste it.”

“We will rally the men,” the oldest of the Elders said, “Where can we contact you?”

“He’s staying with me,” answered Janek.

“So be it. We will sent you word when the men are ready.”

“One more thing,” Crais said before leaving, “No one is to leave the City who is not in the detail to get the defences ready and I mean absolutely no one. We can’t risk the chance that the marauders will be alerted to what we are doing.”

“We will inform the guards.”

Crais turned and hoped they took his words to heart.

“Shall I prepare some of that drink the healer has given you,” asked Janek when they were back in his living room.

“Yes,” answered Crais, suddenly tired, “And could you prepare two large flasks? I am not sure if we return here for another day.”

While Janek busied himself in the kitchen, Crais leaned back in his chair to get some rest. The heat was draining him and he needed his full strength and wits about him to get it all done.

When Janek returned from the kitchen he found Crais slumped in his chair but was startled when Crais immediately woke up on his approach with his gun slipped out of his shirt. When he saw it was Janek, he gave a wry smile and put the gun back, “Sorry, occupational habit.”

“The flasks should be ready soon,” said Janek, as if he hadn’t noticed.

“Good. Let’s get some rest, we might not get the chance to do so for a while.”

Janek nodded and took the seat opposite Crais. He dozed off immediately.

Crais observed him for a while before he settled for some rest as well.

Chapter 6: Setting up a defence

They had managed to get a great number of people together, men and women, young and old. A good number of refugees from the ransacked cities had joined the ranks of the people from this city. The elation they felt with the opportunity for revenge was strong among them. Once word was out that defences needed to be build to stop the marauders, excitement ran through the city and nearly everyone wanted to be part in it.

Crais divided the forces in groups of expertise first. The metal-smiths he wanted to stay in the city to manufacture arrows and other weaponry, including a long sword for himself. Almost all of the arrows made were to be brought to the defences outside the City. The archers were to be their first line of defence after the trench and also the last in the City. A contingency of archers was left to guard the battlements of the City.

He asked the weavers and dyers in the city to make him a piece of cloth the length and breath of the trench and in the colours of sand and another one as thin as possible of the same length but not as wide. He had seen their woven cloths and was certain they could do it. It had to be ready in two days.

The rest of the people were to come with him, with axes, picks and shovels. They had found carts to transport all the people and the materials as fast as possible but it was a little before nightfall before they arrived at the designated place.

Crais set them to work immediately. He placed a four men guard under the command of a former Captain of Shang'ar, named Tavek, to watch the entrance of the corridor. No one was allowed to pass. If any person was caught they were to be brought to his attention immediately.

The majority were to dig a wide and reasonable deep trench, deep enough to grind the wheels of the machine to a halt. A second detail was to dig another trench, less wide than the first trench, nearly a man’s height, just around the bend of the road, out of immediate sight. The excavated earth was to be piled man high on the city’s side of the second trench. The third detail was to chop wood to make spikes to be hammered upright in the second trench once that was finished and wood to make provisional planks to be placed over the first trench. They were also to make crude shields with which the men in the second trench could protect themselves from arrows, which Crais was sure would be employed by the Marauders. He advised them not to chop the wood near the edge of the slope. Only low lights were to be used during the night, so it wouldn’t be seen for miles around.

When everything was in hand, Crais first surveyed the layout of the defences once they would be in place. He worked out where to place the archers who were to be their first defence and where they had to be to act as a second defence.

Once that was done he went down to the trenches, took his shirt and weapons off and helped dig the trenches. Not a man wasted. When the others saw with the fervour their own leader was digging they tried to match him and work progressed swiftly.

By the time the sun was rising, everyone was tired but a great sense of satisfaction went through them when they saw how much work had been accomplished in such a short space of time.

Crais now divided the work forces in half, according to age. The older ones were to rest now, while the others who could still stand on their feet continued, in order to take over when the others were rested.

With the aid of the drinks of the healer, he was able to work a great part of the morning himself but had to take a rest in the shade of a tree (lest he’d be too drained to help in the evening), when the sun was reaching its zenith.

When the sun was rising for the third time the work was done. The trenches were dug to the required depths. The first trench had planks laid over it, so they were able to let foot soldiers pass over them and the spikes were secured in place in the second trench. A great cheer went up. As if on cue, the carts from the City came in with the cloths and the weapons.

The dyers had done their work beautifully. Once the cloths were in place, lightly secured on the edges and sprinkled with sand it was difficult to distinguish them from the road. The cloth that was to be over the first trench was sturdy enough for feet to walk over but would not withstand the wheels of the machine. The material for the second trench was thin enough to be of no support once set foot on. Crais complimented them on their work and when he saw their beaming faces he knew he had done right to do so.

The carts also brought more food and water, enough for three days, it would be a long wait and nobody knew how long it would take before the Marauders arrived.

Crais picked the men he needed to defend the second trench and the archers to be posted on the slopes, the rest he sent home to defend the city if the Marauders were able to slip past the defences. A quick tally gave him the number of a little over a thousand men.

He told the remaining men to get their rest now. In the morning he would explain what was to be expected from them.

Only one incident marred the proceedings of that day. It had been after the carts had left for the City and everyone had moved off to get their rest and evening was falling. One of the guards came over to him and whispered something in his ear. Crais had been surprised that the man had left his post but after he had listened to him he immediately went with him, Janek followed them.

When they got to the entrance of the corridor Crais saw that the one of the guards was standing with a man huddled at his feet. Crais moved over and turned the man his way. It was the Elder who had spoken out against him in the council-room.

“Sorek?” Janek was surprised to see him here, even though Crais wasn’t, “Why?”

Sorek stayed silent. Crais looked at him, “We are done Council-man. You have been able to see that the defences are in place, why would you still want to warn the Marauders? Is it fear or money?”

Sorek kept his silence.

Crais contemplated what to do, he really couldn’t lose anybody from the defences but he couldn’t let Sorek stay either. He thought of killing the man on the spot for treachery but had a feeling that it might not work out for the better if he did. Sorek saved him the trouble.

“The defences will never work! The Marauders will get through and ransack the City. I wanted to warn them, so they would know that not everyone was against them and would spare most of our people. Who are you anyway? I don’t believe you want to safe our city. I bet you are one of the Band yourself and this is just an easy way to split the men and leave the City defenceless.”

Crais felt his anger rise the longer he went on, it was with an effort that he didn’t step forward and break his neck. That option was taken away from him when Captain Tavek stepped forward and slapped him so hard in the face that his neck twisted and Sorek lay quietly, his neck broken. Tavek breathed hard, “I am sorry, Commander, I couldn’t help myself. I come from Shang’ar and I have seen my family die. I know the defences will work and to hear this man say…” He couldn’t continue.

Crais laid a hand on his shoulder, “If you hadn’t broken his neck, I might have done it. We can not allow the Marauders to know what we are doing. You did well.” He turned to one of the guards, “Take the body out of sight and don’t let the others see it.”

Janek had stood quietly, watching the proceeding and had felt bile rise when he saw the dead body of Sorek. He knew it had to be done but he had never seen anyone killed before it made him uncomfortable. Crais looked over at him and understood his feelings. There wasn’t much to be said.

Chapter 7: The battle

The next day Crais explained what had to be done. The archers took up their positions on the slopes and Crais made sure they had firewood that could ignite quickly and kept dry and at the ready. He instructed the detail over the first trench to wait until the machine ground to a halt before they were to shoot flaming-arrows at it. If they could see bellows, sacks or containers on the machine that was to be their first aim, since it probably contained the incendiary materials. Once the machine exploded, they were to retreat to the slope halfway above the second trench and take up positions there and fire their arrows to the Marauders below.

He instructed the second detail, the ones over the second trench, to stay out of sight and not to shoot until the first Marauders on foot or horseback reached the second trench. Than they were to shoot at will. He also said this to the detail behind the second trench.

He took up position with the detail behind the second trench, near the side of the river where he could oversee the road but not been seen himself. When the guards spotted the Marauders, they were to get behind the trenches. Captain Tavek would then take his position and take command on the right flank near the river's edge. When the fighting started he would take up position in the middle Janek he placed near the slopes. Then it was now just a waiting game.

They didn’t have to wait long.

Just before evening, which Crais took to be a godsend, they came up towards the first trench. As Crais had anticipated the machine was not quite at the front of the column but as near as. About two hundred to three hundred men were walking in front and around it. The machine would grind to a halt about the time the first foot soldiers would reach the second trench. If everybody held their own, as he had instructed them, they should be able to make use of the ensuing confusion.

The upcoming men were singing marching-songs, confident that nobody would oppose them and they didn’t care that they were heard for miles ahead. Crais was glad they did. With their marching feet and loud singing he hoped none would notice the difference in sound when they stepped on the planks. Even with choosing the wood carefully he had not been able to eradicate the possibility of the different sound being detected.

Crais couldn’t believe their luck when the first line of the foot soldiers came around the bend, saw the piled high defences but could not stop themselves from stepping in the second trench whilst simultaneously the wheels of the machine slid into the first trench. There was a grinding noise when the machine settled. Immediately from the slopes above flaming arrows were fired at the machine and were caught in the wood of which the machine was made of. In panic the men near the machine started to douse the fires while others were trying to run away as far as possible. It was to no avail. One of the arrows hit one of the bags hanging from the sides of the machine. It exploded in flames, immediately engulfing anyone near and turning them into flaming, moving torches in turn setting fire to anyone they touched. The fire spread around and with a great roar the machine exploded, throwing its liquid, deadly debris around it to great effect.

Crais noticed with satisfaction that the archers on the slope above had now moved to halfway above the second trench to take up their position there.

It was to the credit of the advance party of the Marauders that once they were over the shock of the mayhem and carnage behind them, they moved forward to attack. Crais signalled to the archers above to let loose the next volley of arrows. The advancing foot soldiers fell by the dozen.

In the advance party there had also been a detachment of archers, who had miraculously escaped the liquid fires of the machine, they let loose their volley of arrows but protected by the shields their damage to Crais’ men was limited.

The remainder of the advance party were caught between the second trench and the destroyed machine. Retreat would mean certain death, since the machine was still spewing fire, standing still was no option with the archers above on the slope, so, they had to move forward using the dead or near-dead bodies of their comrades as cover prior to trying to clamber over the second trench. Crais barked his orders to his men to stand and fight as the battle was shifted to hand-to-hand combat. The defenders had the upper hand. Behind the mound they pushed the Marauders back into the trench with their long spears, the defenders quickly dealt with the few attackers who managed to get over the mound.

At a signal from Crais the archers moved their positions towards the remaining force of the Marauders and let loose their arrows to attack the ones near the machine who dared to come through. They took out many of the enemy-archers.

Crais was shooting with his pulse gun with one hand while using the other to hack at the nearest men with the long sword he had ordered from the City’s blacksmith. He was everywhere. Both his weapons dealing death in great numbers as he spurred his own men to combat.

Still the Marauders came. Couldn’t they realise when a battle was lost?

For a moment he was distracted when he glanced to his left and it appeared to Crais that Janek was in command of the men on his side of the battlefield. Taken out of his peaceful surroundings and thrust onto the battlefield he was a totally different man. Gone was the timid man who questioned himself. He seemed to be acquiring the ability to command and his men seemed to be following his orders without hesitation.

Crais felt an arrow enter his shoulder with a thud, numbing the arm that held his gun. He nearly dropped it but held on. He ignored the pain and with an effort he put the weapon back in his holster and now used both hands to wield the sword.

The Marauders closest to him were shocked when they saw him use the sword, with an arrow sticking out of his shoulder, hair flying wild and a mad gleam in his eyes. This devil in black couldn’t be killed and they wanted to retreat but were stopped by the ones following them.

Crais’ own men saw them retreat and with a roar clambered over the trench themselves to attack the retreating force. Crais knew he couldn’t stop them now. He knew there would be many wounded men going back to the City and many dead but would it be sufficient to stop the Marauders in their tracks?

He saw Tavek lead his men over the mound and pursue the Marauders. He could hear his battle cry when he was attacked by three Marauders who now seemed to have only hopes of at least taking one of the commanders out. It was the last error they made.

Crais stopped for a moment to break off the shaft of the arrow. He left the rest of the arrow where it was lodged. If he took it out now he would start the bleeding in earnest. He followed his men.

From the smoke and carnage a man stepped forward who wielded his weapon accurately as well and Crais surmised that this was the leader of the Marauders. He moved towards this man, hacking at the men who came up to attack him. If he took this man out there was a hope that the band could be stopped.

When the man turned in his direction Crais knew that he had to stand and fight here and now. The leader of the Marauders realised this as well and made his way forward to Crais.

Crais sized the man up. He was big and strong and Crais knew that the fight at hand wouldn’t be an easy one. The man looked at him and sized him up too; a smile grew on his face. This man was wounded and smaller than he was; it was going to be easy to take this leader out.

He closed the distance to Crais and attacked.

Crais caught the downward slash with his own sword and gritted his teeth when it jarred through his shoulder. The leader of the Marauders hacked at him with a grin on his face, he had seen Crais flinch and was hoping for an easy victory. His smile vanished when the smaller man wouldn’t give and thrust and parried with the same force despite the wound in his shoulder. Worse, he was gaining on him. The Marauder had to fight to defend himself.

Somehow both groups noticed the battle between the two leaders and slowly the sound of battle almost grew to a standstill and both sides were watching their commanders fight it out.

Crais’ sword was longer and heavier. As long as he didn’t think about the pain in his shoulder he should be able to better his man. His attacks became more ferocious. He hacked, he slashed, he parried and drove his opponent further back but couldn’t see an opening in his enemy’s defence.

The leader of the Marauders couldn’t believe his eyes. There weren’t many people he could call his equal in sword-fights but this smaller, wounded man was not only his equal he might even be his better. The sword sang in front of his eyes and he had to do his utmost to parry the attacks. He was just holding his own. He then saw an opening and thrust and slashed sideways.

Crais saw it coming and could only step back to avoid being killed. The tip of the other man’s sword grazed his chest and he knew he had been cut. “Blank it,” his mind told him.

He saw the grin on the Marauder’s face when he went into another flurry of attacks now that he had drawn blood. Crais only had one chance. When he saw the Marauder raise his sword above his head, he dropped low to the ground, steadied himself with one arm and thrust his own sword upwards into the Marauder’s abdomen, driving the sword home. He saw the look of surprise on the man’s face, the sword still raised above his head. As if in slow motion he dropped the sword in his hands and reached for the sword sticking out from his stomach. He looked at Crais with a confused expression of disbelief on his face before his eyes dulled and Crais knew he was dead. The man fell forward. Crais staggered backwards.

He bent forward to retrieve his sword and then turned towards the men surrounding him. He was breathing hard and pain slowly started to spread. He righted himself and brought his sword at the ready.

He shouldn’t have worried. When the Marauders saw their leader fall they backed off, some dropping the weapons they held in their hands to the ground. They surrendered. Or rather, they ran, afraid of what Crais might do.

He leaned heavily on the pommel of his sword, which he now used as a rest.

“Shall we pursue them,” he heard the voice of Janek speak next to him.

He slowly shook his head. “No leave them,” he said hoarsely, “They will not bother us anymore.” He heard the blood rush in his ears, muting the other sounds, “We have to gather our wounded.” His body finally gave in and he slumped unconscious to the ground over his sword.

Chapter 8: Aftermath

When he came to it was daylight. They were still at the battlefield. Someone had sent a runner towards the city to get carts to carry all the wounded back.

Crais looked at his shoulder and saw that the arrow was still sticking out from it. They had managed to bind the gash over his chest but had been afraid to take the arrow out, lest he bled to death before a healer could come and see him. His shoulder was warm to the touch.

Captain Tavek saw that he was awake and ran over to Janek to warn him. Janek ran over to where Crais lay, “Are you all right?” Crais had to smile, in the time that he’d known Janek he had become used to him stating the obvious.

“I will be when the arrow comes out,” he was surprised how weak his voice sounded.

“The healers should be here in the afternoon.”

“No,” said Crais trying to struggle upright, “It can’t wait that long and I don’t intent to loose my arm.”

“What do you propose to do?”

“To take it out and cauterise the wound.”

Janek swallowed hard and turned green, “I don’t know if…”

Crais mentioned the Captain over, “Heat a hot iron and bring it to me.”

The Captain had seen battle before; as Crais had surmised when he picked him for command and knew what Crais was about to do. Without a word he turned and left to get the requested implement. Crais fell back against the ground. “The battle?”

Janek was on familiar ground again, “When they saw their leader fall the Marauders gave up fighting and ran. Only maybe a hundred stayed and continued. We have dealt with them. We have many wounded, maybe about sixty and about fifty dead. The men are celebrating. We have sent a runner to the City to get the healers and carts to carry all the wounded and the dead. What are we to do with the wounded Marauders?”

“Treat them as if they were your own men. Justice can always be meted out later.” He closed his eyes to gather strength, “Do I have still some of that potion left?”

“Yes, I’ve made some up once we knew it was safe to do so. I’ll get it for you.”

Crais nodded and drifted off to sleep.

When he felt his head being lifted to drink, he awoke. He could also see Captain Tavek standing next to Janek and he smiled a horrible grin, “Right on time.” He struggled into an upright position, “Take my shirt off.”

Janek tried to be gentle, which only aggravated Crais’ wound. He moaned.

Captain Tavek stepped forward and took a knife out with which he slashed the shirt away from Crais’ shoulder. Crais just nodded to him in thanks, “Is the arrow sticking out from the back?”

Tavek nodded. Crais continued, bracing himself, “Then pull it out from the back and cauterise the wound at both ends.”

Tavek stood at his back and yanked the arrow out in one fluid motion. Crais gritted his teeth and sweat beaded his forehead. He couldn’t stop letting out a scream of pain when the wound was burned close. He never felt the second touch of the hot metal.

Janek puked in the bushes.

After the healers picked up the men to be taken to the City Janek went with them. Captain Tavek took over command of their remaining forces. After the healer had treated Crais, Janek had him delivered to his own house for further care, as the healers already had their hands full with the other wounded.

For two days Crais was drifting in and out of consciousness and his dreams had been filled with nightmares of his Peacekeeper’s time.

His temperature was up and Janek washed his body down with ice from the guesthouse to bring it down. Together with the elixir from the healer he succeeded to keep Crais’ high temperature as low as possible.

In the middle of the second day Crais finally drifted off to a restful sleep and in the evening he regained consciousness. Janek came over to his side. Crais tried to lift himself off the bed but Janek gently pushed him down, “Rest, Bialar, you’ll need it.”

Crais nodded and lay back.

Janek helped him lift his head to let him drink the potion. Crais drifted off to a dreamless sleep. Janek allowed himself some rest now.

Crais awoke in the morning of the third day, weak but rested. Gingerly he moved to a sitting position, using the headboard as a rest to his back. He felt for the gash on his chest. It had not been too deep and was already closing. The wounds on his shoulder were a different matter. Cauterising had helped to stop infection from spreading but his whole arm was numb and when he tried to move it, it send stabs of pain to his brain.

Talyn felt these too and immediately contacted Crais. He had been worried about his Captain. The link had been down for all that time with only a nightmarish glimpse and a feeling of pain from time to time.

Talyn’s first contact came as a tremendous shout and Crais gripped his head in pain, “Calm down, Talyn, don’t shout!” The youngster calmed down but was still enquiring in a panic state.

His moan and answer to Talyn had woken up Janek who saw Crais sitting up in bed with his hands gripping the sides of his head. “Bialar? Are you all right,” he placed his hand on Crais’ good shoulder, full of concern.

“Yes, Janek, I’m fine,” Crais smiled wanly and tried at the same time to calm Talyn down, “Could I have something to eat? I’m starving.” Janek nodded and left the room.

Crais closed his eyes and concentrated on talking with Talyn. He explained what had happened and why the link had been silent for that time. He felt Talyn grow excited. The youngster wanted to know more and Crais promised to tell him all about it once he got back, which should be soon.

Crais had not realised that although he spoke silently with Talyn he still had the habit of answering him aloud occasionally. Janek heard him speak the last words, “I should be back soon, Talyn.” There was a pause, “Yes, and I will tell you all about it.” Janek stepped into the room and found Crais on his own leaning against the headboard with his eyes closed.

He set the tray down on the bed-stand and Crais flicked his eyes open, for a moment his gaze was glazed over before he focused on Janek.

“Who is Talyn?”

“My… crewmember,” Crais was embarrassed and annoyed at the same time that Janek had overheard his conversation. He had not wanted to give his own name or Talyn’s to anyone on the planet, including Janek, in case they were alerted by a Peacekeeper’s beacon.

“Why didn’t he join us in battle?”

“He can’t leave the ship,” answered Crais evasively, “and he is far too young for combat.”

“But he can stay on your ship?”

“I am his… mentor. He is still learning. Can I have some of that food, please?” Over the days he had come to realise that it was easy to distract Janek’s thoughts. Maybe that was one of the reasons he would never make it to high command, it was a pity.

While Janek helped feed him Crais asked about the aftermath of the battle.

“Well, after their leader had fallen they quickly ran. Some, about a hundred men, remained to fight on. We dealt with them. The wounded, all the wounded, are treated. The council members at first didn’t want to have the enemy’s wounded treated, especially not inside the city walls but I told him you had been insistent on that and at least he allowed them to be treated outside the city walls. We didn’t suffer as many casualties as we thought we would, which is good and the losses are minimal. Are you sure they won’t come back?”

“You could always post a contingent near that pass for a while and even make it a permanent guard post. How is the rest of the city?”

“Celebrating. They haven’t stopped since we returned. Well, there was a period for mourning, of course while we buried the dead but since then the whole city has been partying. They all want to meet you as the saviour of the city. There have been people outside the house waiting to shake hands with you once you are recovered.”

Crais moaned, he didn’t need the adulation.

“The Elders want to see you too. When will you be ready to receive them?”

Crais wanted to leave the planet as soon as possible even if he wasn’t recovered yet, “After I had a shower and a change of clothing.”

“Do you feel up to it?”

Crais appreciated his concern but really didn’t want to stay too long, “Yes.”

Janek left when he was taking a shower. He still felt weak but it would be good to be off the planet soon. He put on the clothes Janek had laid out for him. This time he had provided him with dark clothes and Crais felt much more comfortable wearing them. He made a makeshift sling with a black piece of cloth; it would be less conspicuous against his dark clothes. He made his way to the living room to await the Elders.

They came in with beaming faces, not at all like when he was first introduced to them, except for one. The oldest member of the Elders was eyeing him strangely but kept his silence. It was obvious that he was uncomfortable with something and was not among the ones who came forward with the hearty greetings the other Elders showed.

The others were congratulating him for his victory and praising him for his bravery. Tales of the battle were making their rounds across the city and Crais wondered how much was still true, judging by the accounts of the Elders present. One Elder came up with a story he had heard that described the battle between Crais and the Marauder-leader. To Crais’ opinion it belonged in the realms of impossibility rather than in a true account.

Even so, he accepted their praise gracefully and commended the city’s people for theirs, including the artisans who had so skilfully provided them with the cloths and the weapons.

He made it a point to commend Janek and Captain Tavek for their co-leadership, especially Tavek whom he had noticed in the thick of battle on his right side of the battlefield.

They all babbled quite happily on the outcome of the battle and what it had done for the city and its surrounding area. Crais tried a couple of times, unsuccessfully, to interject with a true account and the urge to impress on them not to be too complacent. They still had to try, with the other cities of course, to free the people who were taken to the stronghold in the north. The Elders wouldn’t listen, the battle was over and won and all they were interested now was celebrating the event.

Crais was not comfortable with their praise, especially since it was very inaccurate in places and mentioned that he was still very fatigued. The Elders took that as a cue to leave and join in the festivities. Janek led them out.

Crais leaned back in his chair and gave his eyes and ears a rest. “Are they all gone,” he asked wearily without opening his eyes when he heard the door open again.

“Not all,” said a familiar voice.

Crais opened his eyes and saw the oldest of the Elders standing in the doorway. He cocked his head and asked, “I suspected you wanted to talk to me alone. I take it you’ve sent Janek out as well for a while?” It was a rhetorical question but saw the Elder nod his head. When he made a questioning movement Crais indicated to a chair opposite him. The Elder sat down.

He studied Crais for a moment, “What is really in it for you? (Crais raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding his question) I saw you enter as a Peacekeeper, next thing I know Janek introduced you as a commander from the south. The city needed a commander and I let it go. But what interest is it for a Peacekeeper to fight a battle for a small city? It has been on my mind ever since we agreed to let you put up the defences. Will you answer me?”

Crais looked at the man, he had remembered that he was one of the first to accept Crais’ plan. He decided to tell him as much as he would, “You are right. When I came to the city I was dressed in Peacekeeper’s uniform. I am not a Peacekeeper anymore. Janek convinced me to help this city from being overrun by the Marauders. I decided that the plan might be better accepted if it came from someone who looked like he came from your planet rather than an alien, or worse a Peacekeeper. There is no ulterior motive behind my reasoning other than to stop the Marauders gaining ground any further than they already had. I could quite easily have left the planet and where would everyone be then? It had been Janek who convinced me.”

The Elder looked a bit concerned, “This might come out, you know. I am probably not the only person who had seen you come in and put two and two together. I can not allow that to happen.”

Crais had a growing suspicion where this was leading to, “You want me to leave.”

At least the Elder had the decency to look embarrassed. He nodded.

Crais let the silence between last for a microt longer, “I wasn’t planning on staying anyway. The heat on your planet is quite unbearable to me.” He wasn’t only referring to the temperature; he made that obvious in his tone of voice. “I do have a couple of requests to make before I leave.”

He saw the Elder look at him with the expected suspicion. “One: treat the wounded enemy well and they might go to your side. Two: you should make preparations with the other cities to free the people who have been taken to the north. Three: do not be complacent and strengthen your position in the corridor. As I said before, you have a natural defence there and it would be a pity to let it go to waste. Four: Captain Tavek of Shang'ar should be considered as a Commander of your forces. He is a good leader of men and would be an asset to the defences of your City.”

He saw that the Elder had not anticipated these requests, he continued, “When I was on my way back to my ship I had bought provisions, I assume that the fresh goods I had planned to take with me have now spoilt in the heat. I would like to see them replaced and if possible have added less spoilable provisions too. I would also like some more of your fever-herbs from your healer in case I have to visit another planet like yours. And,” he added on afterthought, “some garments like these, as light as possible. I’ve grown to like them.”

“That’s all,” the Elder asked incredulously.

“That’s all. Apart from one more thing,” again the suspicion was back, “If it hadn’t been for Janek intervention I wouldn’t have stayed and if it hadn't been for Captain Tavek's leadership part of our defences would have crumbled. They should get the honour of the battle.”

The Elder looked at him with different eyes, there was respect in them now, “All your requests will be granted and gladly. How will we explain your absence?” The worried frown was back.

“You could always tell them I succumbed to my wounds received in battle. With the stories that are going around that should be easy to be believed.”

“But how will you get undetected to your ship?”

“I came dressed as a Peacekeeper, I will leave like one. Remember, Bialar was a different person. They will not notice me. I will not use the sling. They would be looking for someone who was wounded not for someone who apparently isn’t.”

“Is Bialar your real name,” the Elder wanted to know.

“It is better for you if you don’t know.”

The Elder stood up, “Had things been different…”

Crais waved his hand in understanding.

“I will have your provisions brought to your ship.” Crais nodded and the man left.

He allowed himself some rest before he got up and changed into his uniform.

When Janek returned he found Crais nearly dressed in his own uniform. He found it difficult to close all the buttons of his coat. Janek walked over and without asking helped him. He helped him put his hair tight in a queue too. He saw the Neural transponder but made no mention of it. He couldn't look Crais in the eyes when he asked quietly, "You are leaving then?"

“Yes. It would be better for all.”

“Or for the City.” Janek took a satchel from one of the cupboards and started to fold the clothes Crais had been wearing earlier in the day in it. He left the room and came back quickly. He added another big flacon of the elixir Crais had been drinking and the remainder of the herbs.

He turned a white face towards Crais, “It’s unfair! If it wasn’t for you everyone in this city might be dead or a slave! I bet the Elders from the city are now claiming the honour of saving it.”

“If the Elder who left last has a bone of decency in him, and I think he has, he will proclaim you and Tavek as the saviours of the City.”

“And what about you?”

“I will have died of the wounds received in battle. You two will be the living heroes.”

“I will tell people what really happened,” Janek said angrily.

Crais laid his hand on his shoulder, “You will do no such thing. You can tell what happened on the battlefield. You may mention that you received help from a Commander from the south but you will not tell them you were saved by a Peacekeeper. Is that understood?”

Janek looked at him with anger in his eyes, “But…”

Crais smiled, “Technically you weren’t. I’m an ex-Peacekeeper but that should not become common knowledge. For your sake and mine.”

Crais looked around the room to see if he had left anything behind. He turned back to Janek, “You’ve been a good comrade of arms. I will remember you.” He turned on his heel and left.

"Watch where you are going." One of the partygoers he had accidentally bumped into told him. When he saw Crais’ uniform he spit on the ground, “Peacekeeper!”

Janek looked at the encounter in the street from his window and he itched to go outside and shake the man and tell him, “Do you know whom that is?” But he closed the curtain, no, he had promised Bialar. His eye fell on the sword Crais had wielded on the battlefield. He touched it then took it with him and left the house.

Crais’ progress to his pod had not been an easy one. With his arm out of the sling each jostle ran through him like a knife. With everybody out in the street being jostled was easy. With everyone out in the street the temperature had risen too. He would be glad if he were far away from here.

It was with relief that he arrived at the spaceport. The Elder had kept his promise fresh supplies were near the pod. He only had to open the hatch and put it inside.

He was busy hauling the last supplies into the pod when he noticed a presence behind him. He spun around and saw Janek and Tavek. He looked at them with shock, “What are you two doing here?” He looked to see if they had been followed.

“No, we weren’t followed,” Tavek answered the unspoken question, “We needed to return something to you. We don’t believe that the city should have it, Commander.” He took Crais’ sword out of his scabbard, it had been easier to carry that way and handed it over to Crais.

Crais accepted it from him, “Janek told you…”

“Yes, that you were a Peacekeeper. To me you will always the Commander. God speed.” They turned and left.

Crais went into the pod and took off. When he was near Talyn he asked him to open the Docking bay.

Epilogue

It was good to back on board again. He placed his supplies on a small hover-sled and pushed it towards the galley where he put the supplies in the larder.

In the meantime Talyn’s voice was chirping impatiently in his mind. He wanted to know everything. He was excited.

“In a microt, Talyn.” Crais derived a bit of pleasure on keeping Talyn in suspense.

After putting all the supplies in their right places, he went to his room, undoing his jacket as he went. He had taken the flacon with the elixir with him.

When he got to his room he draped the jacket over a chair and fell onto the bed. It felt good to be aboard Talyn again. He had missed the gentle movements of the young Leviathan. He had missed the cool temperature and he had missed the excited youngster.

He wanted to fall asleep but knew that he had kept Talyn in the dark for long enough. He lay on his back on his bed and took a long swig from the bottle. “Now, where to begin…” he opened the memories for Talyn to access and tried to keep it exciting instead of a dry report.

He could almost feel the youngster settle down and look at the images.

Talyn had been very excited with the deeds of heroism on the battlefield. Crais had shown him his battle against the Marauder-leader but also the heroic deeds of others around him and Talyn was quite thrilled with them. Afterwards Talyn asked him many questions and Crais answered them as well as possible but the last arns he had been allowed little rest and his shoulder was hurting him. He drifted off to sleep in mid-sentence.

Talyn wanted to know more but when he felt Crais’ pain he was surprised. It was a feeling he had been unfamiliar with but instinctively he knew what to do with it.

He took some of the pain onto himself, thereby easing Crais’ and dimmed the lights. His gentle movement let Crais sleep and rest while Talyn stood watch and thought about heroic battles.

THE END

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FanFiction on Captain Bialar Crais