Malaran stood atop the northeast wall of Citadel Buonarroti and stared out across the Vastedad Morada, the great purple plain that stretched for thousands of miles in all directions, pondering her future as well as the future of the galaxy. The musty smell of the purple grass drifted in on the gentle, early summer breeze while the citadel’s power systems hummed faintly behind her. An entire way of life that would likely be coming to an end soon, one way or another.
Some of the humming came from the powered-up battle armor that was plated onto most surfaces in the citadel, which also reflected the midday sun quite brilliantly. The builder had chosen a particularly golden-colored battle armor. All the ancient citadels scattered across Nuevo seemed to have been built with a peculiar sense of artistic flair, like the style of the architecture had just as much priority as the beam emitters and missile launchers. The designer, Baroness Valina Medici from the long extinct House Medici, had been a genius with defensive systems, single-handily inventing the suppressor field that nobody else had ever been able to duplicate, even centuries later, but Malaran found her taste in architecture to be somewhat gaudy.
Each citadel had its unique touches, but the overall form was similar. Citadel Buonarroti had a triangular footprint with a tall triangular tower at each of the vertexes of the base triangle, about three hundred feet tall. The three towers arched gently inward towards one another for the first couple of hundred feet or so, then the top portions slanted sharply inward and provided the base of a weapons platform nested upon a lattice at the top, which included the vaunted suppressor field generator. Each tower mounted its array of missile launchers and energy weapons, and the very core of each tower housed a firing tube for kinetic weapons. And around the firing tube were nested personnel quarters where people lived and worked. In Malaran’s citadel, one tower housed a priory for the Order, one tower housed the military staff, and one tower housed the royal accommodations.
The towers did include windows -- when not covered by blast shields -- but the windows could not be opened. To get fresh air, one option was to go out on the thirty-foot-tall walls that connected the towers. One could also go to the ground level or even atop one of the substructures at the base of the citadel, but the air just didn't seem as fresh to Malaran when she was stuck below the level of the walls, even if the lower courtyard did include a lot of greenery. These last few weeks she often found herself pacing the walls, thinking of her future, walking back and forth between the royal tower and the Order tower pondering which had the stronger pull on her.
The walls were about fifteen feet thick and included an open walkway up top to enable personnel to move between the towers. This normally included plenty of space for her to be alone with her thoughts, but today she had a squad of bodyguards shadowing her every move. Her babysitters were keeping her on an even tighter leash after the events at the Crucible. Today they had even requested that she wear her military uniform so that she would blend in with the bodyguards, everyone wearing House Ashoka colors of green and black. It had become something of a tradition for all members of the royal family to wear their officer uniforms on any occasion that included significant military involvement, but unlike her brothers, Malaran only had minimal military training. Father had other plans for her.
She wouldn’t have minded the new babysitters so much if Leela was at least still around. At a certain level, Malaran didn't care who was guarding her, but she did want her friend back, even if she wasn't an official bodyguard. She had gone through a lot, and then they sent her only friend off on assignment. Back before the creature had attacked her, Malaran had been able to talk to Leela a few times using the royal comm system, but after the attack, she hadn't been able to get through. Leela’s unit might have shut down all personal communications.
Corporal Haldar and his team, pulse rifles strapped over their shoulders, kept looking up at the towers as though there might be snipers here in her own citadel. She thought that might be a little paranoid, but she did think it prudent to take a moment to invoke True-Sight just to make sure that her bodyguards were who they appeared to be. The Calistites had been trying to screen everybody they could with the Sight, and Aadi’s command staff had ordered that all the personnel assigned to the citadel to undergo some kind of secret testing they had devised. They were just getting started, though, and there was always some friction between the Calistites and the royal and military staff that prevented things from going smoothly and quickly.
Malaran did wonder what good her bodyguards would be if another one of those insect creatures showed up. The corporal and the rest of the team were all pretty serious men, no sense of humor like Leela and her old detachment, but she wasn’t sure that would matter if all they brought to bear were their pulse rifles. There at the Crucible, energy fire from her staff didn’t seem to give the insect creature any problems, and her staff was a more powerful weapon than a regular pulse rifle. She thought the Calistites would be better prepared to deal with something crazy like that, but Aadi didn’t want any Calistites in her guard detail. Apparently, Aadi wanted total control of the babysitters. Wanted total control of Malaran.
Just as the stray thought went through her mind, a Calistite did exit the nearest tower through the blast door and came out to join Malaran on the wall. Malaran was somewhat surprised as she realized that the Calistite had come out onto the wall through the royal tower exit rather than the priory tower. She was obviously one of the newcomers though instead of a regular member of the priory -- the brown-eyed woman with light auburn hair that approached Malaran wore a dark navy bodysuit similar to what Jayana had worn rather than the simple black robe usually worn in the priory.
Malaran had noticed many new Calistites in the citadel after she had returned from the Crucible. Extra security she supposed. The priory that Kalima ran here at the citadel mainly trained acolytes and those not too long past Invocation and someone had apparently made the decision to bolster the priory with more experienced and higher tier Calistites. She learned that those that wore the bodysuits were typically from the Collegium Bellum. All Calistites trained to be warrior mystics, but most did not train to be soldiers. The original idea was for the Order to bring the mystical energies of the Void to bear in battle, even to fight alongside soldiers as Calista had at Athene, but not really to become soldiers themselves. Those of the Collegium Bellum prepared themselves to one-day lead soldiers in battle, and that meant becoming soldiers themselves to a certain degree.
As the Calistite approached, she nodded to Malaran as the bodyguards eyed the newcomer up and down. Malaran did wonder if that form-fitting bodysuit the Calistite wore encouraged more attention than necessary for security purposes. The woman wore her hair shorter in a similar style to Jayana, but she did not yet have the same eyes as Jayana or Qingniao. Not the eyes of an Elder. Outside of the eyes, she looked older than Jayana.
Whatever her age, she suddenly proved to be a very deadly fighter as her blade gashed through most of Corporal Haldar’s right leg while her other blade swung up and split another guard open at the groin and upward into his waist.
Malaran stepped back, opening a siphon into the Void and activating her smart-metal bracelets, summoning her shield and battle staff as she assumed the Crouching Panther position. It was pure reflex has her mind reeled in shock, not believing what was happening.
One of the guards, Tandavo perhaps, moved to position himself between Malaran and the Calistite while the others tried to respond, but the Calistite, or whatever it was, was so damn fast that in a blur of motion she had cut down the other two bodyguards while Malaran and Tandavo had shifted into their positions.
As her mind tried to process everything that was happening, her first impulse was to wonder if this was another one of the insect creatures in disguise, but there had been no blasts of red lightning like before. Just the blades.
Her mind catching up with what she had seen, Malaran noticed that the Calistite’s swords had a faint midnight-blue glow. The three-foot long blades had t
elescoped out from handles hidden in her hands before she had struck. The double-sided daito blades had an extremely sharp edge, just molecules thick, able to cleave through flesh and maybe even bone like paper. Normally such a fine edge would dull immediately the moment it cut anything, but the energy of the Void kept the integrity of the blade.
Tandavo from his blocking position in front of Malaran fired a pulse from his energy rifle as the Calistite’s blades swung free from cutting down the other bodyguards. The blue energy pulse deflected off a blade that the Calistite had miraculously swung into the right position and at the right angle.
Malaran’s pulse, however, fired just a moment after Tandavo, caught the Calistite in the side, knocking her back and staggering her.
But that was all. No mortal wound had been burned into her torso. Again Malaran puzzled over who, or what, was attacking her.
Then she noticed that the Calistite’s entire bodysuit had given off a brief midnight-blue glow when the energy pulse had impacted her, and Malaran realized suddenly that the Calistite’s bodysuit must have been powered-up with the energy of the Void, much like how her shield worked and could divert most of the energy pulse. Powering the daito blades took much less energy than a pulse weapon and apparently left enough power for the assassin to energize protection over her full body. Very few people in history were skilled enough in the Void to power a pulse weapon and full body armor, and the shield had become the preferred defense choice instead of partial body armor. Dealing with energized full body armor was something that Malaran had little training in.
“Keep firing!” Malaran shouted to Tandavo as she fired her another energy pulse of her own, but the Calistite was so fast.
As the Calistite cartwheeled away from Malaran’s energy pulse, the telescoping blade in the Calistite’s right hand retracted back to dagger length, and she threw it at Tandavo like a throwing knife.
Tandavo reacted pretty quickly, bringing his rifle up to protect his neck and face, but the blade spun lower, catching him in the abdomen. He grunted, then his legs gave out.
Malaran glanced down to see that the tip of the blade had pierced through and out of Tandavo’s back, severing the spinal cord in the process.
A blur of motion brought Malaran’s eyes back up as the Calistite leaped forward. Malaran fired, but the Calistite shifted her upper body at the same instant and had her blade in place to deflect the energy pulse. Somehow the Calistite had again turned her blade just right to deflect the pulse off at an angle instead of trying to absorb the impact, which would have probably disarmed her.
The Calistite landed into a forward roll, and the sprang up, cleaving off Tandavo’s head before her blade crashed against Malaran’s shield, the energy field of the shield repelling the energy field of the blade in a large spray of blue sparks. The blade did carve a long groove several centimeters deep into the smart-metal lattice of her shield before the blade became too dulled without the support of its energy field. Within a few seconds, though, the smart-metal shield repaired itself.
The wail of an alarm began sounding all over the citadel, and Malaran edged backward, staying on the defensive. Tandavo must have got an alarm off. Help would come. She just had to hold out. Which might not be that simple, she thought as arterial spray still splashed from a couple of the bodies in the bloody carnage behind the attacker.
The Calistite smiled at Malaran as she danced around, brandishing the gently glowing blade before her. Malaran wondered yet again if this really was a Calistite attacking her or some new disguise the Enemy had come up with.
Malaran danced around with her opponent, spinning her staff through various two-handed and one-handed grips as she spun her torso in quick mini-turns, trying to line up a shot as well as keep her shield in play between her and the daito blades. By instinct, her feet and legs constantly moved in quick, erratic movements designed to foil enemy pulse weapons.
Malaran didn’t have any experience or training against this kind of weapon. These daito blades had been in vogue at various times centuries ago in House Musashi among the elites and top-ranking military officers, but the weapon had a major flaw that prevented widespread use. The handle was just too small to house a phasing tube or other technology required to enable the weapon to fire energy pulses. It was only good for close combat, but even in close combat one often found it handy to be able to fire energy pulses. Agema and Umpala combat tactics relied upon firing energy pulses while engaging in close combat.
All assuming of course that her opponent was human and not some insect creature that would blast her with red lightning at any moment. Malaran focused her mind for a moment, quickly invoking True-Sight, but nothing seemed amiss. She wasn’t sure that meant anything though because at the Crucible the insect creature was able to hide its true form from the Sight; Malaran was able to detect that it wasn’t Leela, but she had no idea who or what it was until it decided to reveal itself.
Malaran swung her staff in a short arc before her, trying to keep the Calistite or whoever she was at a distance, and she took the opportunity to glance back at the royal tower behind her to see if any reinforcements had come yet.
The Calistite apparently noticed this glance, and let out a small laugh. "Don't expect aid to arrive too soon, your highness. I sealed the door behind me."
“Who are you?” Malaran growled at her. “Are you even human?”
“Who I am,” said the Calistite with a touch of indignation, "is someone who spent my entire life studying and training to follow in the footsteps of Calista, but instead ended up do nothing more than playing petty politics with a bunch of old women afraid of their own shadows."
Malaran had maintained True-Sight, and what Calistite said did not seem to be false. She seemed to believe what she said.
The Calistites voice changed to include a touch of bitterness. “Calista stood upon the face of a planet and wreaked havoc on a fleet of ships high in orbit. She invoked the power of the Void and annihilated dozens of ships, hundreds of miles away.” Her eyes penetrated into Malaran. They were not the eyes of an Elder, but they were the eyes of one who spent many years on the path to becoming an Elder. “Has the Order even come close to teaching this? Five hundred years after the mighty Calista fell, are any one of us prepared to accomplish anything even remotely similar?”
"I kind of understand your frustration," Malaran said. “To a degree. But that is no reason to aid the Enemy. No reason to attack me.” Malaran certainly understood someone becoming frustrated with the Order, but she couldn’t understand how this frustration could lead to the slaughter that she just witnessed.
“It’s nothing personal, your highness,” the Calistite said nonchalantly. “But you are mistaken about me aiding the enemy. In fact, one day I shall annihilate the Umpala. Every last one of them. But first, we must break free from the plots and schemes of fearful old women concerned only about their political fortunes. And unfortunately, your highness, you seem to be at the epicenter of all these plots and schemes."
The Calistite lunged forward, executing several jabs and slices that forced Malaran backward, and then she backed up herself, snatching up the other daito blade that had severed Tandavo’s spine. The blade telescoped back out to its full length and began to glimmer with a midnight-blue glow. She twirled the dual blades and smiled at Malaran.
Malaran wanted to keep her talking to give more time for help to arrive. Malaran thought she had the superior weapons, that the Calistite had probably chosen the daito blades because they would be easier to get past any weapon scanners, but her opponent probably had trained for combat for fifteen or twenty years longer than Malaran had. And just maybe that training did include swords such as these. Malaran had rarely visited a higher tier priory, so she didn't know what was taught there. "How's disrupting the Order's plans going to put you any closer to someday being able to destroy ships in orbit?" Malaran asked.
The Calistite stopped twirling the blades and held them crossed before her. She focuse
d her eyes on the blades for a moment in what appeared to be intense concentration, and suddenly the dull glow around the blades changed from the midnight-blue tint and became a brighter, brilliant glow. A red glow. The same hue as the red lightning.
The Calistite eased back her concentration, and the blades shifted back to the duller, bluer glow. “One day I too shall rip starships from the sky.”
“You made a deal with the Enemy,” said Malaran with a sigh as she got a sinking feeling in her stomach.
“Not the enemy,” said the Calistite as she shifted around waving her swords. “Someone who will aid us in destroying the Umpala. Someone who has real power and is willing to teach it.”
"All warfare is based upon deception," said Malaran as continued to move defensively, quoting Sun Tzu, one of the maxims all Calistites learn. “Deceiving oneself is the surest way to defeat,” she quoted Prioress Kalima’s corollary to Sun Tzu’s quote.
"Don't lecture me, little girl," said the Calistite as she slashed out with her swords.
Malaran danced back from the blades, and then said, “Even if you get past me, how will you escape?” The alarms still rang through the citadel, and from the corner of the eye Malaran could see that several vispas, the giant flying wasps, along with their mounted riders had started buzzing by close to the citadel, airborne patrols likely coming back to check out the alarms.
The Calistite smiled, and then suddenly Malaran found herself staring at a mirror image of herself. A somewhat distorted image, though, the True-Sight revealing all the imperfections in the disguise. Apparently, the Enemy had taught her the disguise trick. Maybe the bodysuit projected a false image around her.
The Malaran doppleganger said in a close imitation of Malaran’s voice, “Your guards will ferry me away to safety. Away from the dastardly Calistites that just tried to assassinate the royal highness. In fact, I, in your voice, will tell them that the Calistite assassin ran away and is currently hiding among the Order.”
Malaran’s heart sank. The disguise would probably work for a while if no one had True-Sight at their disposal, and the royal staff and bodyguards wouldn’t have it at their disposal. They wouldn’t trust the Calistites to come anywhere near Malaran after the bloodbath here on the walls. Maybe the alarm message that went out even mentioned that a Calistite was attacking the princess. Even if Malaran defeated the attacker and tried to explain what happened, there likely was going to be irreparable harm in the relationship between the House Ashoka and the Order of Calista. Aadi already had a lot of mistrust.
She just had no idea how these disguises worked or how to disrupt them. True-Sight would reveal the disguises, but none of her guards or the military staff here knew anything about invoking True-Sight. Even if reinforcements did show up, they wouldn’t know which was the true Malaran. The assassin had probably planned for this contingency and would be prepared to take better advantage of confused guards. Malaran’s best option was to take this impostor down quickly before anybody showed up.
She just wasn’t sure that was possible. She had seen what Kalima and the other Elders could do when they had taken the starship. Old, gray-haired women had torn armed men apart with their bare hands. Literally tore them apart in many instances. She still remembered the sounds of human bone being ripped apart. Her opponent wasn't an Elder, but she was fifteen or twenty years closer to being one than Malaran was. Malaran had defeated an Umpala battle-shaman and had defeated the insect creature, but she tended to attribute a lot of that to luck. And that part which wasn't luck was her Calistite training. Maybe some of the "warrior mystic" stuff actually had sunk in. But that just didn't seem to count against a much more experienced warrior mystic who had the same teachers. In fact, psychologically, it was a lot like a little kid challenging a teacher.
But she didn't have any choice. She couldn't let the Enemy win. If she died today, then things would get really bad between Aadi and the Calistites. There would be no united front to stand against the Umpala. Nuevo would be doomed. What was left of humanity would be doomed.
“The flaw in your plan,” said Malaran as she spun her staff and slid into the Striking Viper stance, “is that you must survive for your disguise to work.”
The Calistite twirled her blades again and smiled. "I appreciate your resolve, Princess, but with all due respect, you're just a child. I had mastered the Striking Viper before you were even born."
“Be that as it may,” said Malaran as she stepped forward. If she were to have any chance, she had to have some confidence. “I have defeated an Umpala battle-shaman in single combat, and I have even defeated one of your insectoid masters in single combat.”
“En garde,” said the Calistite as she crouched down into a fighting stance.
Malaran fired an energy pulse, but again, the Calistite jerked at the same instance and avoided the pulse.
Fore-Sight. The Calistite had to be invoking Fore-Sight.
Malaran focused her mind and tried to invoke Fore-Sight herself. She was becoming better and better every day at invoking Sight without the aid of the Oculus chamber and its ancient technology, though the technology in her staff probably helped. Her optic nerves began to tap into the probability matrix of the current reality, and a multitude of ghostly images blossomed around her foe, each depicting a possible action. The more likely actions appeared more corporeal, while the less likely actions appeared more ethereal. But the probability matrix relied heavily on the brain patterns of her opponent, and she knew she would have to be careful against such a well-trained Calistite. Higher-tier Calistites were trained to somehow sabotage their opponent's Fore-Sight in combat somehow. Supposedly they learned how to interject totally random maneuvers that the Fore-Sight could not predict, while some claimed that they were trained to momentarily shift their brainwaves through different realities, hiding the probabilities of the current reality.
The Calistite sprung forward, sliding past an energy blast from Malaran’s staff, slashing with one blade while thrusting with the other.
Malaran stepped back as she countered with shield and staff, being cautious until she got a better feel for the blade forms.
Malaran had tried to shift her mind around when she fought the battle-shaman, but it didn’t seem to work so well against his Fore-Sight. Malaran quickly tried some mental manipulations, trying to shift her mind around, but she was just grasping at straws. She didn't have hardly a real training in this sort of thing, something that would be taught later.
Then suddenly reality did change. Completely. She was somewhere else.
She stands on cliff among jagged rocky mountain peaks beneath a red sun. Before her stands not a false Malaran, but a swordsman in the red and black colors of House Musashi, wearing the distinctive long flowing skirt of a swordmaster. His black hair is tied in a topknot, and a sleek red-mirrored visor hides his eyes.
Past-Sight. Somehow she had triggered it. But not her own past. Kalima had called it a very rare talent.
The smart-metal gauntlets erupt into fibers and reform into battle-staff and shield as she steps into the Wind Breaker stance. But those are not her hands holding her weapons. She is there in the moment, but looking through somebody else's eyes. But she feels the weapons in her hands, feels the chill in the air, smells the scent of maple trees in the breeze.
She seemed to be inside somebody else’s body, actually reliving the experience. Apparently reliving the experience of one of the ancient Agema, based upon the sight of those smart-metal gauntlets transforming into staff and shield, the Agema’s signature weapons. But this man wore the colors of the House Xander, dark blue and silver, instead of the black and silver the Agema wore during the time of the Empire. This must be from a period before the Empire. The Emperor kept his old colors when he acquired the throne, but the Agema’s colors changed. They wanted to be viewed as truly elite forces, not just House guards.
Demetrious Pileidis, having attained the rank of Kentarch in the Gamma Phalanx of the Agema is calm and con
fident. The frequent battles of the House Wars have turned him into a wise, battle-hardened veteran, being promoted to an officer through field-commissions. One of the best soldiers in all of the Gamma Phalanx, he had trained for months for this special mission to Onogoroshima, a House Duel, and he feels prepared to defeat a swordmaster. Though Demetrious has no special title, he is a master of staff and shield. After today, he will have a title and a new rank, Lord Kentarch. House Xander will promote him to the nobility.
Malaran seemed to read his thoughts, not just see his actions. She had never heard of Demetrious, knew nothing of him or his history until this moment.
The swordmaster leaps forward as dual daito blades telescope out from his hands and slice out in simultaneous strikes. Demetrious counters with staff and shield, sparks erupting as energy fields collide, then he spins the firing head of his staff and fires a pulse that just misses the feet of the swordmaster.
Firing the pulse felt odd. The siphon into the Void just seemed different than what she was used to. It had to be because Demetrious was male, not a Calistite trained in the ways of the Void. If they were lucky, a select few males mastered just enough to tap into the Void and power their weapon. It was a great advantage to have a weapon that didn't require a power cell strapped to your back and never needed to be reloaded. But only a minority of people were capable of learning to tap the Void even this much, even with the technology in the staff doing much of the work.
The swordmaster dances around, testing his range. He has to stay close and constantly to negate the advantage of the pulse-firing weapon, but the battle-staff has superior range even when used traditionally without firing pulses. Demetrious came prepared to exploit this advantage. More blows are exchanged as the swordmaster still feels out his foe and deftly avoids any energy pulses. But this is the plan. Demetrious prepares to spring his trap.
Suddenly Malaran realized that not only did she know Demetrious’s thoughts, she remembered all of his training and preparation for this encounter. They reacted together in unison, her instincts mimicking his. She knew what he knew.
Some of the forms are a little different than what she had learned. The Agema of this period had not yet warred against the Umpala, had not yet been forced to change the forms to deal with bigger, stronger opponents.
Demetrious and Malaran wield the battle-staff and shield with determination and confidence. Maybe for the first time in her life, Malaran is totally confident. She has the battle-hardened skills of the mighty Agema at her disposal. She will crush the swordmaster.
The swordmaster apparently senses the trap and changes tactics, the daito blades slicing close to home. Or perhaps he springs his own trap. But he fails, and Demetrious and Malaran in unison press the counterattack, sliding through the Striking Viper to the Knee Breaker to the Rampaging Dragon, blow after blow from the battle forms of the ancient Agema as staff and shield dance with dual daito blades in a frenzy of lighting fast strikes and counterstrikes. So many blows strike back and forth so quickly, it is like time has sped up, and Malaran gives herself over to instinct as the blows are exchanged even faster than thought.
Then it ends. Demetrious’s right arm is severed at the elbow in a quick lightning slice, blood spurting out in big gushes. One end of the staff falls limp, the wide two-handed grip becoming unbalanced without the right hand to support it. Demetrious’s and Malaran’s instinct still drive them on, but the loss of the arm is catastrophic against such a skilled opponent. Demetrious knows many techniques for using the staff and shield with one hand, but it is too much of a handicap against a swordmaster, especially one wielding two blades. As Demetrious defends against one blade, the other cuts a leg out from under him.
Demetrious and Malaran look up from the ground at the swordmaster, the heat of battle suddenly turning very cold as two limbs spray out the last of Demetrious’s blood. He still can’t believe he lost to the daito blades.
In a blink, Malaran returned to her body, standing again upon the humming walls of her golden citadel with the Malaran-disguised Calistite smiling at her deviously as she waved her blades. The entire vision had lasted less than a second of real time.
“Crap,” said Malaran in a whisper. With all his experience, skill, and planning, Demetrious, a master of staff and shield, still lost to the daito blades.
She had somehow invoked a very rare talent, seeming to somehow inject her with mastery of staff and shield well beyond her years, and it all it did was pretty much prove conclusively that she was totally screwed.
But then she noticed something as she quickly turned and blocked the blades as the Calistite struck at her once again. Malaran still seemed to have all of Demetrious’s training and instincts in her head, and these instincts were telling her that the Calisite was not moving right. There were flaws, some subtle, some more obvious. The Calistite was skilled with the blades, but she was no swordmaster.
Malaran, however, in this brief moment, was a master of staff and shield, Demetrious's memories and instincts still fresh in her head, still fresh in her muscle memory. And having two sets of memories and instincts simultaneously in her mind would probably wreak havoc on the Calistite’s Fore-Sight. Malaran’s brainwaves were from a different reality.
Confidence flooded into Malaran as she slid back into the Striking Viper and struck hard. A flurry of blows and counter-blows erupted for a moment, and then the Calistite jumped back, keeping her distance.
The Calistite frowned at Malaran. “How?” said the Calistite. “You are too young to hinder Fore-Sight.”
Malaran just smiled back. The Calistite apparently realized that Fore-Sight was no longer working, but did she notice that Malaran had suddenly become an expert with staff and shield? Malaran hadn’t performed anything particularly skillful yet, hoping to surprise her foe when she unleashed her superior abilities.
“No matter,” said the Calistite, as she stepped forward to re-engage.
The Calistite would have to stay close now. Avoiding energy pulses without the aid of Fore-Sight would prove trickier.
Malaran stepped forward as well and began pressing the attack. Another flurry of strikes and counter-strikes erupted, but this one ended when Malaran’s staff smashed into the side of the Calistite’s leg, just missing the knee.
The Calistite jumped back again. She didn’t seem to be too hindered by the blow, but it must have hurt.
The Calistite eyed Malaran. It seemed a little weird to Malaran to have her image staring her down so angrily. The alarm still wailed, and they still stood above the butchered bodies of her bodyguards, bloody footprints stamped all over the walkway tracking the progress of Malaran’s and the Calistite’s deadly dance. Yet now Malaran felt like she had total control of the situation.
Practically snarling, the Calistite said, “let’s end this,” as she stepped forward once more.
“Yes, I will,” said Malaran as she stepped forward herself.
Malaran performed several basic moves as they initially clashed, and then she unleashed Demetrious’s skills that she still had pulsing around in her head. Flowing through the advanced forms like an Elder might have, Falling Rain to Shadow Wind to Bound Tiger, she battered the Calistite back.
The Calistite avoided the various energy pulses Malaran fired, but Malaran was using the energy pulses to simple maneuver her foe to where Malaran wanted her to be. The Calistite was less deft at avoiding the physical strikes, and blow after blow began landing, the Calistite grunting each time the staff or shield smashed into her.
Malaran felt a certain thrill surge through as each blow landed, hearing the pain she inflicted on the Calistite willing to betray humanity, willing to side with the Enemy. The betrayer would regret it all before this was over.
The Calistite apparently got desperate and leaped several feet into the air, trying to come up over Malaran’s defenses.
Malaran was ready, though, and she jabbed her staff into the Calistite’s gut at the apex of her leap, the head of the staff sla
mming into the Calistites solar plexus. The head of the staff, the firing head, impacted hard into the softer tissue forcing a faint guttural moan to escape the Calistites lips, and then the Calistite went sailing through the air as Malaran released an energy pulse from her staff from point blank. The Malaran disguise vanished in that instant, and the Calistite’s bodysuit glowed blue as she flew through the air. The powered bodysuit prevented the energy pulse from blowing a hole through her, prevented it from incinerating flesh, but a lot of energy still slammed into her body from point blank range and blew her back several feet.
And in dismay, Malaran watched the Calistite fly backwards out over the battlements of the wall and fall over the side. A thirty-foot drop. She wanted the Calistite alive. They needed to interrogate her.
Malaran ran to the edge and looked down just as the Calistite landed on her head, snapping her neck.
“Crap,” said Malaran. She had got too confident, thinking she had everything under control.
A shudder suddenly ran through her body as Fore-Sight surged through her, no longer confined to the probability matrix of the immediate future that’s used in combat, a vision of the near future, a high-probability future, blossomed into her mind’s eye.
Umpala raiders maneuver in orbit around Nuevo.
A giant rust-colored rock, almost two miles long, sits among a vast field of purple grass. Upon the rock stands a figure draped in shadow, it’s face and form hidden from Sight, but the shadowy form turns as if it knows it is being watched. As if it sees the watcher.
Malaran inhaled sharply as the vision blinked out. She had rarely seen such a clear vision of the future. A high-probability future. As a lowly acolyte, her training in Fore-Sight mainly involved combat implications, looking at the probability matrix a few moments into the future. Looking further into the future was much more difficult to accomplish and much more difficult to interpret, so much so that even many of the Calistites didn’t think it was worth the effort.
But Malaran somehow knew that what she had seen was a high-probability future, one that will occur in a matter of days. The Umpala were coming.
And she knew where the Enemy would be. At Lapenya, the great rust-colored rock in the middle of the Vastedad Morada.
Malaran decided that she would be there too. The Enemy kept coming for her. Now she would come for them. It felt right, somehow. Like destiny beckoned to her.