The Ballad of Omega Brown:
Kazar-Kai’s War

by Tom Vaine

Table of Contents parts: 1, 2, 3

conclusion

Kitt pulled him towards the bed, but Omega didn’t move, his emotions churning. When he looked down at her he gasped. Kitt’s words still clung to his mind, and as he heard them again now he saw her with fresh eyes. Her features weren’t smokey or dark, they were ill-defined. He could see her eyes were more like dots on a moth’s wing, her hair not a corona but a knot of seething ends. Her features were lumpen, almost waxy, and it looked as though her body were a collection of thick cords bound together instead of proper muscle and sinew.

The Shifter that Omega knew as Kitt split its head, bleating out a sort of laugh. Omega felt sick. “We all serve the Master,” it howled before bearing down, twisting about his legs and hips, entangling him.

The pair dashed the table over as they fell, Omega flailing his arms while the thing he had called Kitt tried to immobilize him. It wouldn’t kill him, he realized, just keep him stuck until Kazar-Kai was ready. He could feel the god-blade stirring, far in the back of his mind. It wouldn’t be long now. Kitt continued to engulf him, moving up his body like some kind of fleshy tar. On the ground by his head, Omega’s hands latched onto the fallen holo projector.

Omega smashed the machine into the Shifter’s head, catching it by surprise. He swung again as the creature tried to change its body into something more defensible, but a chunk of screen shattered off, causing it to howl. Omega kept thrashing, driving the equipment down until he felt the glove enveloping him become loose. Scrambling, he extricated himself from the body.

He didn’t know if the Shifter was dead or just unconscious, and it didn’t matter. Kazar-Kai was waking up. He could feel the presence in his mind growing, battening itself onto his own thoughts, forcing his arm to pick up the sword. He couldn’t stop it.

The mark. All of this revolved around the mark. Gritting his teeth and clinging to the pain he felt in the back of his hand, Omega grasped the sword.

“Slave!” Kazar-Kai’s words were as much a sound in his head as they were a physical force, pushing him to the floor. “How dare you defy your station? There is no end to your servitude, Omega Brown. You belong to me!

The cat’s eye glared. Omega felt himself deflating, as if his mind’s eye were being stuffed backwards down a long tube, the sight of the room fading slowly farther and farther away. All that was left was his consciousness, the current, and the screaming voice of Kazar-Kai. Each time the god-blade spoke, the pain spiked through him. The old god directed it, smothering him. Letting Kazar-Kai take him was the only way to make it stop.

And he wanted it to stop. He wanted to turn away from it, to let himself be buried away until he could forget. It’s what he’d wanted ever since he’d got the mark. It’s what had put him here in the first place. Running, planning the escape that was most profitable, Omega realized, was the only thing he was any good at.

Hoonra had been the one to remind him of duty. Hoonra was the one who always took the harder road. The pain continued sawing through him, but instead of crumbling away, Omega embraced the only choice aside from annihilation. He stood his ground.

It wasn’t a sensation he could describe accurately, as it wasn’t a thing he physically did. He felt, in his mind, the presence of the god-blade flattening him into nothingness with the pain it wielded. He thought again of Hoonra, how the Karackian would take every chance for hurt as an opportunity to grow stronger, to push herself to become better.

Omega refused to be undone, his defiance becoming an insulator for the burn, dampening Kazar-Kai’s presence. The pain remained intense and acerbic, but it became an affirmation of self, too, a connection to the god-blade which Kazar-Kai could not break. Omega ground his teeth.

“You’re going to need to do better than that, old son.” Even as he hissed the words, Kazar-Kai’s voice came shrieking back to prominence, the conscious meanings replaced by a hateful, wordless scream. It nearly obliterated Omega right then and there but again he thought of his good and only friend.

Hoonra would choose to fight. Hoonra would stand and take the beating, and beat back. Hoonra would have found a way.

Shouting himself now, Omega stood. His legs locked as he rose, and he hunched over the blade. His body felt rigid, as if held by a strong electric current, but there was balance there, an equilibrium composed of himself, Kazar-Kai, and the pain between them. The god-blade kept howling, but Omega could stand it.

“That’s all you can do isn’t it? Shout and howl and hurt, but you’ve never been held by someone who didn’t want you, have you?” The blade babbled a stream of vitriol into Omega’s mind “... NOTHING WHEN YOU FOUND ME, NOTHING! YOU WERE WEAK, AND I MADE YOU STRONG, PATHETIC BUT I MADE YOU PROUD! YOU DARE NOT USE ME, DARE NOT, DARE NOT SPEAK...” the voice kept going but Omega wouldn’t hear it. A thought struck him.

“The mark is the key, isn’t Kazar? It’s your symbol, but it’s in my skin. Mine, so I guess that means it’s my symbol too.” As he spoke he felt the balance shift. The pain remained but Kazar-Kai’s voice quieted, even if only a little. The god-blade, it seemed, could no longer simply speak over him if it wished

Omega stood, his limbs unlocking. The sword continued to keen, the god-blade’s presence still pushing against his will, but Omega endured. There was no more running from this. It would only let the god-blade back in control, and that would be fatal. Whatever else, Omega Brown was done running away. “If I’m a part of you now, oh great and mighty Kazar-Kai, then I guess that makes you a part of me too. I might not be very good, but I make my own way. Pay my own debts. Because of you, there are people I need to pay back.”

The sword quivered in his hand a little, the keening lessened. He could feel the old god in his mind still, a menacing presence, but as if behind glass; like a poisonous snake Omega knew that Kazar-Kai could still kill him if mishandled. Concentrating, Omega embraced this knowledge, taking the power from the god-blade and pushing him back into dormancy. The cat’s eye fluttered, and closed. He slid the sword into its scabbard, the pain lessening, but never fully going away.

The mass on the floor spasmed. Small rivulets of flesh began dribbling up the limbs of the Shifter’s body, collecting on its torso. It was still alive despite its head injury and Omega guessed it wouldn’t be long before he had to figure out a new way to kill it. There was no time for that. The mark gave him the power, but the sword was the key. Omega could see now that Tair’Khan’s reports were wrong. He knew what the third artifact must be. He scrambled, collecting his gear while Kitt continued to regenerate. Just as it began to pile itself upright once more Omega reached the door to his rooms. If he hurried, there might still be time to do what needed to be done.

* * *

The pit Omega had chosen to wait in was, mercifully, less exposed to the cold than the plateau above it. The wind howled over the edge of its incline but, at the bottom, most of that fury was dulled. Down there, the snow hung in curtains which drifted without ever seeming to fall properly.

Omega hadn’t wanted to be down there, hadn’t wanted to get out of his ship at all, actually, but circumstances for him had once again changed. Luckily, he was certain he wouldn’t have long to wait. Kazar-Kai was still a pain for him, but he seemed to have willed the blade into a watchful peace. As long as he kept thinking about the mark and the sensation it made, he could keep control. He paced for a moment around the cluster of huge crystals which jutted up from the center of the ravine floor beside him, trying his best to keep the blood flowing.

It was only a moment or two later that Tair’Khan arrived. The Warlord moved decisively against the drifts, cresting the edge and descending in a few huge strides, clawed feet gripping the ice. Without looking up he called out as he went. “And so, I’ve found the fool at last.”

“Don’t you mean Avatar?” Omega’s response bore all of his usual sarcasm, but even so he made a point of keeping a safe distance from the canid Warlord. “Where are all your friends?

“My troops await my return as Avatar, onboard the Deceiver. You’ve caused quite a scene. The other Warlords started fighting when they realized you’d left with most of the troop transports. They’re too stupid to see through your ruse; I wasn’t about to enlighten them. A few followed the ship obviously marked as yours, but I do not need or want their help to deal with you.”

Omega nodded, impressed. “They fell for the fraud, but you figured out I switched the call signs on the ships. Well done; I have to say, Tair’Khan, I’d always assumed you were too dull to catch something like that. So, you’ve come to stop me from destroying the third artifact, but you’re too late. I’ve rigged this whole valley with explosives. One touch and every crystal in this range goes straight into the atmosphere.” Tair’Khan was shaking his head even before Omega finished.

“No. More lies. You haven’t rigged the valley.” The Warlord reached out, grabbing one of the crystals and breaking an end off before throwing it to the ground. “These crystals mean nothing. The final relic isn’t a part of these crystal growths, and the vaults we found are empty. It’s the blade.”

Omega gave no response, so he continued, “The Shifters took command almost as soon as you left. They were desperate for the sword to be returned. Panicked. I’ve never seen them act like that. They threatened to destroy us if we didn’t fall in line. If they can truly dispose of us, it’s either because we’ve done all they needed, or because nothing but the blade matters. When I am Avatar, I will wring their secrets from them.”

“You said ‘more lies’. What’s the other one?”

“You came here to hide,” Tair’Khan sneered, “you hoped that the natural interference created by the crystals would hide your sensor signature. I mightn’t have noticed if I hadn’t guessed about the call sign change.”

“Huh. And you say that you haven’t told the others because you—”

“The glory of your death will be as an opening chorus in the song of my bloody ascension.”

“Right, right,” Omega made a winding motion with his hand, “gloriously bloody ascension, got it. And that’ll be the reason why you also didn’t just destroy my ship when you flew by, right? All that deep tactical thinking you’ve committed yourself to? Honestly, it’s frustrating, Tair’Khan, that you’ve figured enough to inconvenience me yet still remain so predictably stupid.”

The Warlord snarled, but Omega pressed through, “You are right about the sword, mind you. I had an experience that convinced me of the same thing. You’re right about the call signs, too, but you’re only half right about the location. It’s true, I was using the crystals to hide, just not from you.”

Omega glanced at his wrist display and shrugged. “Actually, I thought they’d be here by now, so you’ll just have to take my word for—” he looked up suddenly, over Tair’Khan’s head, up over the edge of the ravine. “Oh, that’s handy. Dramatic, even.” Omega pointed.

The Warlord glanced back, then spun and looked again. Just above the ledge, far back and obscured by clouds, Tair’Khan could make out the shape of a Hive war frigate in the upper atmosphere. The dark clouds billowing from beneath it were far more likely to be waves of Drone fighters than just more bad weather.

“I guess none of you managed to figure out that I had a quick look at our comm system on my way out the door. Thought maybe I’d better let someone know we were here.”

Tair’Khan turned back around, his chest heaving, drool streaming from the corners of his muzzle. He growled in a way that Omega could feel in his chest. “Good thing you left your warriors up there. They’ll be much easier for the Drones to find that way. Oh, you can’t tell, because of my helmet, but I winked at you when I said that.”

Omega rolled his shoulders a little, shaking his hands and setting his feet. “Before we do this, Tair’Khan, I just wanted you to know: I really don’t like you.”

Tair’Khan snarled and leaped into the air, drawing two long knives as he did, bridging the distance between them as though it were only a few feet. He brought his blades down in a sweeping arc, and Omega was able to draw Kazar-Kai only just in time. The demon-god’s presence flared again in his mind and Omega had to fight for control. Between the old god’s pressure and the Warlord’s assault, he was brought to his knees in an instant.

Pressing his full weight against the dirks, Tair’Khan leaned forward, “Look at you. Our lord betrays you. Even now, he works to secure my victory.”

Omega’s arm shook. “What would you do, Tair’Khan, if I gave you the blade here and now?”

“What would I do?” The question excited Tair’Khan enough that Omega could swear he saw the Warlord’s eye bulge a little in their sockets, “I’d burn a thousand worlds. I’d bring the universe to its knees. My people would rule everything in Kazar-Kai’s name.”

He lifted his head to the sky, feeling Omega buckle a little further as he did it. “I would be The Avatar, Entropy Incarnate, and no mortal could ever stand before me!” Tair’Khan was salivating again as he looked back to Omega, a mad, animal light glimmering in his eyes. This turned quickly into a look of confusion as he noticed the raygun Omega had pointed at his chest.

The force of the blast lifted Tair’Khan up and back, only a step or two, but it was enough. Omega stood and slid the sword back into its scabbard. He seemed to regain a little more control then, but through it all, the hand with the gun never wavered. Tair’Khan stared at him, agog, as Omega motioned to the hole in his chest.

“Predictably stupid,” he repeated, “and, Tair’Khan, if I might say, quite clichéd as well. Bring the universe to its knees? What does that even mean? It doesn’t have legs, Tair’Khan.” The Warlord seemed to be building up to some kind of response, but Omega couldn’t be bothered. He fired again, twice, then left the little valley and the smoking ruin behind him.

Omega had set his vessel to partial standby when he’d left to deal with Tair’Khan, so startup was easy. In moments he was airborne, skimming along the crystal fields and putting as much distance between him and the extraordinarily messy fight he’d caused back at the temple. He was certain no more of his ex-crew would notice him leaving now, but there was still a Hive frigate in orbit, and that could certainly be a problem.

Sure enough, Omega’s long range scanners showed a trio of Drone fighters moving away from the main battle to investigate the crystal fields shortly after he’d launched.

Time for his final trick. Omega keyed in a preprogrammed sequence. He watched his scanners and saw the remaining transport ships still slaved to his vessel’s control. These began their maneuver. Like his own vessel, they were built for speed instead of combat, but it was all he’d need. The transports lifted off, angling themselves in self-destruct runs at any meaningful Hive target. The distraction worked. Far behind him, the Drone fighters turned back to deal with this new threat.

As soon as he felt safe, Omega pointed his ship starward, and broke the atmosphere. The Hive would see him for sure now, but his lead was too great. Omega brought up the coordinates for a close hyperjump.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I’m sorry Hoonra. I’m sorry, and I’m coming back. Hang on.” With one last flick of the controls, Omega Brown jumped to hyperspace.

Copyright © 2023 by Tom Vaine