The Ballad of Omega Brown:
Omega and the Lizardmen of Karackas
by Tom Vaine
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Table of Contents parts: 1, 2, 3 |
part 2
As the late night air pelted against the open face of the howdah, Omega turned back to Hoonra. “Tell me again how you folks manage to fly these things through space.”
“Certainly, Omega.” It had taken some doing, but he’d finally managed to get her to use his actual name. “Krildar and Karackas share an atmosphere. Once a cycle, their orbits are so close we can fly between them. It isn’t easy.”
Omega thought that was likely an understatement. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the concept. It was just that any time he imagined flying nearly into the vacuum of space in what amounted to a steel backpack strapped to a gigantic flying rat, he felt deeply sick.
“It’s all part of the ritual of the hunt. Only the best of us may become hunters.”
“Yeah, I guess so. And this was meant to be your initiation, right? Like, some sort of coming of age thing?”
“Yes, something like that.”
“Well, I’m sure that your folks — uh, your parents, I mean — must be very proud.”
Hoonra looked at him, her brow furrowing in puzzlement. “You are attempting a compliment? It is kind, but misguided. We have no special bonds to our progenitors. We are born in clutches, hatched and trained for our roles from birth. I have been training to become a hunter all my life.”
“All your life, huh? I hope you don’t mind my asking, but since I’m being educated anyway, how long would that be?”
Hoonra cocked her head. “We pay little attention to the conventions of the wider galaxy, so my counting may be a bit off. Still, you could say that I’m one hundred and eighty-seven years old.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. Why?”
“We are approaching their base,” Rokan called back to them. Despite Omega’s proposed solution, Rokan’s attitude towards him had not improved.
Omega peered over the side of the howdah, scanning with his headset, and decided that “base” might be too strong a word. Below, set amongst the foliage, he could see a camp passing beneath them. A series of canvas-covered huts and camouflage projectors had been erected around a makeshift landing platform. Temporary steel walkways snaked their way out from this central point to hang among the trees.
The platform itself was still empty, and Omega wondered how long before the scavengers would try another landing. Probably not at all until they were sure Rokan’s hunters had left again. Sentries had been placed in a few obvious locations around the perimeter, but the site looked otherwise lightly defended. This was not a surprise. These raiders had been operating under the logging colony’s nose for quite a while. Likely, they thought they were past any serious retribution. Looking up, Omega saw Rokan motioning him to the front of the carrier.
“Doesn’t look like they’re expecting anybody,” Omega said, awkwardly pulling himself forward on rungs and catches that were clearly not designed for human proportions.
“No, and why should they? My people have no interest in them.” Rokan sniffed as he hauled on the reins that controlled their ride. “Their laxity is a boon for you. I would expect few others.”
“What do you mean?” Omega asked.
“This was your idea,” Rokan sneered. “You wished to save Hoonra’s honour and your comrades’ supplies. So be it. But the rest of us will not accompany you.”
“Why? You don’t think this will work?”
“Certainly it will, though it’s unnecessary. Hoonra, at least, will be fine; she killed the karnax and other beasts besides. You, on the other hand, are simply prey.” Rokan turned to regard him. “Hoonra’s attachment to you is typical of a child. She will lose it once she’s faced with your incompetence.”
Omega’s face flushed. Rokan held his gaze for a moment longer, and Omega had the distinct impression the alien knew exactly what was going through his mind. Abruptly, Rokan turned his back. “We land south of their location shortly. Be ready.”
Omega made his way to the back of the howdah.
“Rokan doesn’t like you,” Hoonra said.
“You heard all that?”
“No. I don’t need to. We can see body heat. You turned very bright towards the end.” She made a hissing, hiccuping sound that Omega assumed to be laughter. “You still are. Besides, Rokan doesn’t like anything, especially if it involves outsiders and breaking traditions. There are many people like him back home. Don’t worry about it. I think this is a good idea. The galaxy is a wide place; I have always thought of seeing more of it. Just remember” — Hoonra reached over, tapping the hilt of his pulse-sword — “we fight first with honour.”
“Right.” Omega sucked his teeth. Hoonra seemed pleased enough, and he was getting what he wanted out of the deal. No point in counting scores just yet. He tucked Rokan’s words away. There would be time for that later.
Their flyer had begun to descend, dropping through the night sky in complete silence. It landed among the top branches and crawled down towards the trunk. Omega could see the light of the not so distant camp as the world began to move vertically past him. He clung to the rails on the side, hooking his feet under the rails on the floor. The creature they were riding managed not to travel straight down, instead passing the tiers branch by branch. Soon, they leveled out and stopped.
Rokan stood. Silently, he pointed into the trees, outlining the general direction of the camp. Hoonra stood, pulling herself over the rail and falling quietly to the branch below. Omega followed, ignoring the look Rokan sent after him. The drop wasn’t far and, though he wasn’t able to move with quite her stealth, Omega had soon caught up with his scaled companion.
The Lizardwoman led the way through the undergrowth. Despite her bulk, Hoonra moved with the assurance of a trained predator. Omega found that he had to work to keep up.
While he followed, Omega mused on just how often in his life he had found himself face to face with a creature he’d never encountered before. In these situations hostility was, as often as not, the focus of the meeting. In light of this, Omega found himself happy that, for once, the gigantic, fang-toothed, snap-you-like-a-twig space monster was on his side.
Hoonra stopped mid-step just ahead of him, and Omega nearly crashed into her back. She pointed and, peering over her shoulder, he could make out one of the metal walkways. He reached back, unsheathing his pulse sword, but Hoonra stopped him as he began to move forward.
“What is it?” he whispered.
“What are we doing?”
“What? What do you mean? We’re going to go in there and mash these scavengers.”
Hoonra shook her head. “We are hunters. I know how to hunt a karnax. How do we hunt these thugs, as you say? What is our strategy?”
Omega chewed his lip for a moment. “You know, Hoonra, if I’m being honest, I don’t know if I’ve ever really thought about it like that. Normally, I just sort of start swinging. I’ve found that, as far as functionality goes, that’s about as much as any plan ever delivers on anyways.” Before Hoonra could respond, Omega pushed past her and onto the walkway.
The foliage from his vantage point on the branch had been dense. Omega figured this was likely the reason he hadn’t seen the small troop of guards approaching below him until he dropped fully into plain sight. The foremost of them seemed particularly unimpressed.
“Just who the hell are you?” the lead guard asked, reaching for his belt.
“Hey there,” Omega replied brightly, slamming the pommel of his blade into the guard’s mouth. The man’s teeth made a gravelly, crunching noise, and gave Omega a grim sense of satisfaction. As the guard began howling, Omega pulled back, round-housing his crossguard into the side of the unfortunate fellow’s jaw. There was a popping sound and the man crumpled. The other three guards had gone pale.
“Hey, listen guys” — Omega hoped he sounded charming — “I can explain about that—”
“Gods of Chaos, look at it,” whispered the guard in the centre.
“Huh?” Omega regarded their friend. “Oh, yeah, you’re right. That was awful of me. I kind of panicked, you know? I mean, he’s probably going to have to eat through a straw for—” He bit off the last few words as Hoonra rushed past him. Like a green boulder, she barrelled into the three men, scattering them. She reached out, catching one of the soldiers by the back of his collar. Muscles bulging, she hefted the man in an over-the-shoulder arc, hurling him off of the ramp and into the jungle depths. She whipped her tail about herself as he fell, letting it snap out at another of the guards. The force of it slung him sideways, dropping him to the walkway. Omega could hear his bones cracking with the impact.
Meanwhile, Hoonra had completed her spin. With a flourish, she whirled her blade above her head before sending the point downward into the back of the last scavenger. She held it there for just a moment before twisting it viciously and withdrawing it. She turned to Omega.
“Wow!” he said.
“Really? You’re impressed?”
“Oh yeah. Truly. That was fantastic.”
“Well, I did say I’d been training all my life.” Hoonra was clearly pleased with the compliment.
“No, I know. It shows. I mean that would have taken me, probably fifteen or twenty minutes to do on my own. You were like an avalanche. Do all of your people fight like that?” Omega began searching the fallen guards.
“Our warriors do, yes. What are you looking for?”
“These.” Omega held up a few palm-sized cylinders attached to a belt.
Hoonra’s eyes widened. “I know what those are. We cannot. There is no honour in this.”
Copyright © 2019 by Tom Vaine
