~ * ~ * ~
It was another five months into Rafian’s dealings with Lucci and Eagle when they decided it was time to make their own organization. The old master was sick of the infighting among leaders in the resistance and wanted Rafian to help him build a smaller sect that would stay out of politics and concentrate more on results. With that, they decided to get their most trusted partners together and have a meeting.
Lucci’s meeting was convened at a large camp outside of Dearin, and the people gathered to form an alliance known as the Aygis. The name was chosen by Rafian, who had extensive knowledge of the war. Aygis was the name of an attack ship that had carried out an impossible mission on Primia, the planet home of those voluptuous women most Tyheran males lusted after.
Primia was taken by the Volf Alliance for their rare ore, which was called dyuirt. The amazons of Primia fought back but were outgunned and outmatched until the Aygis showed up to claim over one hundred thousand Volf raider lives. The Aygis won Primia her independence, but the atmosphere was not friendly for the Volf, and most of the men and women on that mission died saving the Primians.
Lucci’s Aygis was to be a small, tight-knit group that specialized in strikes such as the training camp mission, and he surprised Rafian by naming him one of the leaders. The eight members of the newly formed Aygis did a traditional ritual of cutting the palm and holding it above a fire to take their oaths of commitment.
The Aygis leadership numbered five, with Lucci as the spiritual leader, Rafian as war commander, Sa-Lin—a cute Primian tailor—as espionage lead, Tyren the escape artist, and Eagle the assassin masquerading as a bounty hunter. The sixth officer was a funny-looking Deijen who called himself Bigun (pronounced “big gun”). He was probably the biggest Deijen that Rafian had ever seen, but he was extremely fast and an ace at using ranged weapons.
Within the walls of the alliance were other resistance fighters whom Lucci had invited, and he was happy to move among them in hopes of great things to come. The Felitians had taken Talula like a storm, and Lucci and Eagle did a lot of missions by themselves.
As a unit, the Aygis aided in many military skirmishes and developed a reputation for being the Special Forces you would call whenever a situation seemed hopeless. Rafian found himself fighting on Tyhera, Talula, Deijo, and even Rofe. His bravery was a thing of legend, and he rallied many hopeless fights into victories, always on the front lines.
Under Master Lucci, Rafian the man of no memory became a master of the Mera Ku arts. He gave up vines and whoring for meditation, and mastered the unarmed combat arts in their entirety.
The Aygis organization was turning out to be a dream come true. That is, until the day Lucci Vadosh disappeared. For months, no one heard from him, and after a while, he was presumed dead. Rafian believed that his friend and master had gone too far in his meditation and had fallen into the abyss—a place they all feared in their particular religion. Everyone else assumed the old Ranalos to have been captured or killed by Felitian Special Forces. Whatever the case, it appeared that Lucci was gone from them forever, and Rafian was saddened by the loss.
In an effort to keep Lucci’s dream of the Aygis alive, Rafian tried in vain to keep the meetings and operations going, but soon the other members began disappearing, too. Lucci had been the glue that kept their motley crew together, and with him gone, they had no loyalty to Rafian.
Out of frustration and disappointment, Rafian returned to Tyhera and to the resistance fighting. He was one of the last remaining Aygis members after Bigun was arrested and Sa-Lin and Tyren were killed in action. Eagle vanished like Lucci before him but resurfaced to let Rafian know he would always be there in the shadows. Many members broke their oath and went into hiding after Bigun’s arrest, but Rafian and Eagle sought them out and killed them one by one in honor of the blood pact that they had broken.
A year later, in one of the bravest coups in the history of the resistance, Rafian and a fellow Mera Ku master named Ill Switch executed a plan of tactical genius. The results of their months of organizing and training led to the pair slaughtering a prison full of Felitian troopers to rescue their brother Bigun from its walls.
It was a glorious reunion and Felitians began to fear the Mera Ku robes that men such as Ill and Rafian wore into fights, because the men moved like ghosts and struck with deadly precision. It didn’t matter whether it was with gun or knife; a Mera Ku master was a one-man army on the battlefield. With the help of Ill, the Aygis was reformed on Tyhera behind a bunker owned by Rafian.
It was a well-hidden base within the northern mountains of Apun, and it sat upon the ruins of an old Mera Ku temple. It always felt as if the spirit of Lucci was watching over them. Rafian was named supreme leader, with Ill and Bigun as his lieutenants, devoted warriors sworn by blood and oath to do as they were charged in taking the hell back to the Felitians.
One late night Rafian was thinking about Lucci as he walked through the main halls of the temple. Unsheathing a sword that hung on the metallic wall, he examined it and smiled to himself. He had used this sword when he fought alongside his friend a year ago.
“Which will be your focus, Rafian? Unarmed fighting or the sword?” Lucci had asked him one day as they sat discussing philosophy on the steps of the Aygis.
“To tell you the truth, Lucci, I favor both.”
“I think you should lean towards sword and master it. The way of the sword is an old discipline that even the Mera Ku has neglected for many years. Everyone is able to use a fist and a gun, but you can be one better. I bet if you stick with your sword and your lessons, no one will be able to touch you.”
He was right, of course, and the memory saddened Rafian. “Rest in peace, my Ranalos friend,” he muttered to himself as he replaced the sword in its sheath.
Memory 19 | Hatch Kitten
If life as a leader was stressful, then one would assume that Rafian VCA had a masochist yearning for trouble. The war had grown intense, and while he had a personal love for the cause, he often worried if there would be any end to the fighting that turned their tiny side of Tyhera black with the char of burnt barracks, bases, and cities.
For two years of fighting, the only “love” Rafian knew was through the prostitutes of the saloons and the faster women of the resistance. Many women assumed the resistance leader to be eternally a bachelor and were happy for a night or two with him whenever his busy schedule would allow it.
On the inside he had made himself hard as steel, refusing to allow the depression he once felt over Riyah to return. Passing on any relationships with women for fear of losing them to his enemies was not what he wanted to continue doing. This wasn’t to say Rafian didn’t get close, but the women of the resistance were too convenient, and unless he could find a way to stop the fighting, he continued to be a bachelor very devoted to their fight.
It was the supple lips and rhythmic hips of a Felitian baroness that finally caught his eye. Though Fels were eternally his enemy, this beautiful woman was enough to bring thoughts that should not have been in the mind of a commander.
Her name was Rienne, and she was a Felitian lady of Veece. It was during an escape from freshly rallied Felitian troopers that Rafian happened upon her large apartment and dashed in blindly with hopes of finding it empty.
The woman screamed as he gained her doorway, but her objections were cut short by his strong hands as he clasped her mouth shut and held her slight body firmly against his. “Silence, you little snake, I’m not here to hurt you.”
Rienne continued to struggle under his grasp, regardless of his threats, and it made Rafian frustrated.
“Look, either you play nice, or I’m gonna have to cut you,” he said as he brought up his sword to her face in warning.
The threat still did not seem to have any effect on her, and in one clean motion, she spun from his arms and landed a slap soundly on his jaw. She was free now and staring intensely, and then she began to walk in a crouched circle. Her hands were clenched int
o tight, pale, knuckled fists, and her eyes were all fire.
“You need to calm down,” Rafian said, turning as she circled, keeping his eyes on her the entire time. Experience in multiple situations had taught him to assume the worst at moments like this. Even though his sword was drawn and he was intent on killing, this woman was not backing down.
The other thing that kept him wary was the look in her eyes. Her body and facial expression remained calm, but her eyes read intense rage, which made him feel that she was a killer. It was too much for Rafian, so he took the initiative. Tripping her with his left leg, he swung the hilt of his blade down in an arch towards her head.
But Rienne was too quick, and upon being tripped, she forced herself to fall flat and fast, rolling away from the intended blow. Within seconds, she was back on her feet, drawing a hidden dagger, which she held in front of her face menacingly. The troops had passed, and it was quiet outside. Rafian let himself go calm and feinted in and out with her, trying as best as he could to identify the dagger.
It was not a cyber-knife, and it wasn’t even metal. It looked like stone, the same type that the cavemen of Toone had used. The same stone daggers that usually came doused and finished in deadly spider poison.
Rafian could tell by her parries and feints that she was a fencer of sorts. He knew that he had to radio in soon, or his men would worry about him, so with a desperate lunge, he allowed himself to swing the sword wildly, hoping that she would fall for his trap. She took the bait and came in quick for the intended killing strike.
Releasing the blade as he swung, Rafian used the ridge of his left hand to knock her strike away while simultaneously hooking his right fist squarely into her jaw. Rienne crumbled instantly, the impact of her fall snapping the legs of her coffee table and breaking the glass. Reaching down to take the knife, Rafian realized that his hunch was correct—a nick from its blade would have been instant death.
“Who the hell are you?” he asked the unconscious woman. Then, breathing a sigh of relief, he exited her house to head after his men.
After that day, Rafian hoped he would never see her again. It was a short-lived dream at best, as destiny is cruel that way. A few weeks later on a trip back to Talula, he found himself seated across from a beautiful woman who had a strange familiarity. It bothered him the entire flight until he noticed she was staring at him.
The air became uncomfortable, so he spoke first. “Excuse me, do I know you?”
Smiling widely, the mysterious woman motioned to a mark on her cheek. She was a creature of natural beauty, dark with ebony hair spiraled in the style of the day with golden clips as décor. She was tall with a slight build, and at a glance she could easily be mistaken for a dancer instead of the viper she really was.
“You left an impression on me that day,” she said to Rafian, her lips curving into a warm smile.
“I’m glad I made an impression on you,” he said. “Forgive me for scarring that pretty Fel face.”
“Save that Buraa shite for the saloon trash, outlaw.” She leaned in with a coy expression and then whispered, as if embarrassed that anyone else could hear, “My life has not been easy since I let you slip. The Felitian command was not very happy.”
With interest, Rafian stared at her anew. “You underestimate me, you know that? This is why you have the scar and not me.”
Rienne was flustered and spat back, “Only a scar for me, you coward. Were the tables turned, you’d be dead!”
Looking around at the startled passengers who now regarded them with interest, Rafian smiled as if they were old lovers quarreling in order to take the attention down a notch. Speaking to Rienne under his breath, he made it clear that he was serious.
“Look at you, playing the part of their pretty attack dog. You escaped with your life that day; you should be on your knees thanking me.”
Rienne kept her eyes locked on him. “You dare talk to me like that? Outlaw. I allow you to fly on this aircraft without revealing you to the Felitian authority, and you dare to show me arrogance?”
She was visibly upset now, and Rafian looked back at her calmly. “You’re too uptight, you know that? Call your dogs, and you can watch me slice them into mincemeat. I’ll tell you what I know, though, my pretty little snake. You won’t call the Fels because of your code. You’re a killer like me. You would not let me go so easily without sinking a blade into me first.”