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The Lion's Hunt: Part 9

Time for eternity

By David Riley Published 2 years ago 13 min read
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The Lion is the King of the jungle, but it's the Lioness that does the hunting.

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PART IX

Lieutenant Rekla'Kyuul anticipated Etom' moving to use the detonator, knew the movement would be immediately punished, so the Lieutenant moved to protect the Commander. Rekla' was in the path of the sniper's shot in a flash. The blast overpowered their armour’s outer layer, effortlessly plunging through the protection and hitting Lieutenant Kyuul squarely in the chest, in place of Commander Vyuum. Blood sprayed, and Rekla's body slammed against the floor with a thud that vibrated through the metallic platform, and through Etom'Vyuum's soul. Etom's screech was choppy and high-pitched, lost to emotion as the Commander rushed to Rekla's side. Blood poured from the new chest cavity but there was little that Etom' could do. The wound was fatal, and the inner layer of the armour could do nothing to stem the bleeding as Rekla'Kyuul tried to breathe through the pain.

Etom’s trembling hands fumbled with Rekla’s faceplate, pulling it clear so that the dying soldier could attempt to take in breaths unimpeded by the armour’s filtration system, on a world that should have been called home. Long strands of unravelled black hair, almost the length of Rekla’s body, surrounded her now exposed angular face. In the darkness of the cave, Kurin hair had resembled long tails, but in the golden light of the Surion sun, their hair was clearly twisted into two long, elaborate braids.

One of Rekla’s braids hung untwisted, pulled apart as she fell and was now caked in blood and swept across her face. Whiskery sideburns came to points midway through her cheekbones, beautifully complementing her grey skin and dark eyes as she looked up at the slits on Etom's faceplate with desperation. Just a moment ago, she was happy to give her life for the friend she had known for a quarter of a century. Now all she wanted to do was live. Rekla' gagged through blood as she tried to speak but failed as Etom' brushed away loose strands of hair and stroked her face with a stained glove, smearing her cheek a deep mauve. The blood darkened on Rekla’s skin as she clung to life, but Etom' was powerless to help. Before, Etom’ didn’t need words to communicate with her friend. Now she could find none to offer. Even prayer was elusive.

Rekla's breathing grew shallower as she struggled to hold onto her life until finally, her body went limp in Etom’s arms, and the last soft breath eased from her lips.

Behind her faceplate, Etom’ let out another choppy wail. She’d always been told not to bond with other soldiers and knew not to get attached to comrades. Etom’ herself had given the same advice to countless others, but Rekla’ had been a constant in her life. Watching Rekla's life expire was the loss of a sister, not a soldier. And while it might have been easy to maintain an emotional distance from any other soldier, doing so from Rekla’ was impossible.

Etom’ struggled to her feet through the pain of losing her friend. Still, there was confirmation and assuredness within the Commander. All of the soldiers under her command had the strength to lay down their lives for the cause. This was never in doubt, but faced with certain death, surrounded by so many Surion weapons, Etom’ absently wondered if her children might have the same depth of valour. It was a stray thought but could Kryn'Vyuum, her mate back on New Suri, instil the same virtues or ensure that they would use the skills learned during their hunter trials? Etom' had her reservations, and those doubts brought her little solace.

Deep purples covered Etom's hands as her most trusted friend lay dead on the floor. Unlike the Commander, Rekla'Kyuul had never had children. She’d never wanted to. She only ever wanted to fight, only ever wanted to serve. It was where the Lieutenant had seen her value. If Rekla' had given it more thought, perhaps she would have had offspring that might have been added to the Kurin war effort, as Etom' had, but it was never how she wished to contribute. It was at this moment the Commander understood why the lives of the Kurin were infinitely more important than the lives of their Surion counterparts, but the Kurin on the platform with her would have to be sacrificed for it to truly be recognised by all in the end. Some of the Kurin soldiers were mothers too, but they held their positions and awaited the Commander's instruction, as any good soldier would be expected to.

Kurin males, a term that made little sense since the word "Kurin" literally translated to "Female", were a biological match to Surions, but male Kurin had no experience of patriarchy and no acquaintance with war. They had their place, Etom' thought, but unlike the sentiments of many members of the Kurin Council, she felt that battle was not it. For that reason, every member of the Commander’s infiltration team was female. And with the respect of the commanders of the other squads, they had each followed suit, insisting that the members of their ranks be Kurin also. As far as Etom' was concerned, the mission was a success. Her Kurin warriors had gotten the job done. They would always get the job done. There was just one thing missing.

A warm blast of air swept across the surrounded Kurin team, sending their long braids into a frenzy. To a woman, each Kurin fighter stood their ground. Etom' was immensely proud as she slowly and deliberately removed her faceplate and tossed it aside. The tears streaming down her face and scars from decades of war did nothing to take away from her aged grey-skinned beauty.

Silver tipped whiskered sideburns on sharp cheekbones served to make the Commander seem even more determined to see this mission through. She remembered all the Kurin soldiers that had courageously died in her charge over the years, even if she didn’t remember all their names. Etom' looked up at the lip of the elevator shaft surrounded by Surion soldiers. The old wound on the back of Etom’s shoulder stung once more as the skin moved, reminding her again of the poem from her long-dead ancestor, Itar'Reesh. Etom'Vyuum focused on that poem now, and the single alteration made to the text by the Kurin Council so many years ago. Now the right words came to her where she couldn't find them moments before when her friend, Rekla'Kyuul, had needed them. All the Commander wanted to do now was shout that poem to the heavens in its original form. One final act of defiance to let the Surions know that they couldn’t win. They would not win. So that's what Etom' did, raising her fist and allowing her voice to echo out as she and the other Kurin fighters stood opposed by insurmountable odds.

“Others will stand because they fell.

Others will fight because they fought.

We shall have peace because they had pride.

And we will be free for what they died.

We are the Mothers.”

Miles below, back in the cavernous expansive, Corporal Lawal connected what she was certain was the last of the many charge cables, then let out a long sigh of relief. Sweat continued to pour through the skin of her armour’s living layer as she checked her mission clock. It was now many minutes beyond the ten hours it was meant to take for the platform to reach the surface. Olin’, hoping for the possibility that Commander Vyuum and the rest of the team found a way off the planet, slumped to the floor. She lay surrounded by sprawling wires and tiny luminous puddles. The work was done. Ten hours of near-constant running had seen the best of her. She had nothing left except ravenous hunger, but something still bugged the Corporal. She sat up and thought. If Olin’ activated the explosives now, what effect would it have on the progress of the rest of the team? The cavern would be destroyed, and the explosives in the elevator shaft connected to her detonator would collapse too, but she suspected it would barely register as a blip on their radar more than a thousand miles away. Her stomachs growled. Olin’ was ready to press the buttons on the detonator to complete her part of the mission, but wasn’t prepared to do it with her stomachs empty.

Olin' removed her faceplate and steam rushed out from the edges of her helmet, showing the sweat drenching her young face. Olin' untied the half-empty canister of honey water from her waist and raised the bottle to her lips, and paused realising that Commander Vyuum had never emptied the canister as the others had been ordered to. Had the Commander known to save the honey water for this moment? Olin' took a swig. Did Commander Vyuum decide they would sacrifice themselves before anyone else knew there was a sacrifice to be made?

Wiping her mouth, Olin' reached for the rations in her pack, hungrily tearing open the small container of dried food. She dropped a fistful of the crumbling tasteless snack into her grey lipped mouth. Had the Commander really seen that far ahead? Olin’ was in awe whether the Commander knew the inevitability of the situation or not. Commander Vyuum truly was an amazing soldier, Olin’ thought as she put the bottle back to her lips and drank.

There was no gunfire in response to Commander Vyuum shouting the poem of her ancestor, and no final battle between the Kurin soldiers on the platform and the Surion contingent above. The Commander waited, but the Surion forces were unmoved. Had her words fallen on deaf ears? No. In truth, her words weren’t really for them. They were for the soldiers by her side, for dead friends and comrades. The words were a stall to give Corporal Lawal as much time as possible to connect all the charges to her detonator down below. There was no way for Etom’ to know if Olin’ had been successful. She just had to have faith that she was, but the Commander had run out of options. The Surion soldiers surrounding them were very clearly a firing squad. They were not there to capture or negotiate with them. Not one Surion soldier had announced themselves as the officer in charge. It was not why they were there. Commander Vyuum was fine with this. Etom’ wasn’t the biggest fan of talk anyway. Kurin soldiers preferred action.

Through the commotion and the blood and the tears, Etom' had managed to palm the detonator without anyone noticing. She let out a deep breath to ready herself for what came next. Her armour's antlers yawned in response. There was nothing else to wait for, so Commander Etom'Vyuum squeezed the detonator's trigger. Hopefully, their actions here would change the course of the war, even though she knew they'd never live to see it.

Olin’Lawal struggled to her feet as the world began to shake around her. This might have just been an earthquake a thousand miles below the planet’s surface, Olin’ thought, but intuition had taught her better than that. The rumble could only have been caused by Commander Vyuum setting off the explosives back on the surface, but if something had forced the Commander to set them off before the timer reached its end, Olin’ thought there might have been more indication that it was happening.

The Corporal barely finished the thought when twin downwards columns of fire spewed out from two of the elevator shafts before her, bathing the entire cave in fiery light. The fire crashed against the cave floor, instantly consuming the bodies of the dead that had rested on one of the platforms. Flames roiled outwards in every direction, rolling towards Corporal Lawal, ready to devour her.

A raging wind washed over the Corporal, hitting her like a wall. The accompanying sound filled the air making it dense, but Olin’ steeled herself to see the mission through. She gritted sharp teeth together as the air twisted and spiralled around her body, threatening to carry her away. She steadied herself against the wind and found the strength to hum a soft melody that had played in her mind throughout the night. The tune was barely audible, lost to the wind, but it calmed her pounding hearts. She was ready. If anyone above had survived, it was their duty to tell the sacrifice these small teams had made. They would tell all the Kurin of their exploits, and their names would ring forever in song.

Olin’ squeezed the trigger on the detonator, sending the signal to the charges in the cavern. Explosions rang out, and the roof of the expanse caved in on itself as Corporal Olin’Lawal became engulfed in rock and flame.

The platform the Commander and her troops stood on shook violently, yet Commander Vyuum remained on her feet. Everyone under her command collapsed to their knees as bits of track tore free from the shaft’s walls, and parts of the platform fell away. The rumbling intensified, causing Surion soldiers to fall from their elevated positions, screaming as they dropped into the exposed pit of the elevator shaft. The stresses of the quaking ground turned hardened metals into malleable material that twisted and groaned under the pressure, but Commander Vyuum noticed none of it. Her eyes were closed, and for the briefest of moments, Etom’Vyuum felt the peace she had so desperately fought almost three decades for. Memories of a smile on Kryn’Vyuum's face and thoughts of her children at play brought warmth to her hearts. They filled Etom’Vyuum with an immense sense of comfort. Hopefully, she thought, she wouldn’t see her family again for many years but would happily wait for the day when they would meet in the Eternal Fields. The notion allowed Etom’ to feel contentment she hadn’t felt in years as everything and everyone around her faded away. And each of the Kurin soldiers on the platform was sent to the shores of Serenity.

The End.

__________________________________________

Thank you so much for taking the time to read The Lion's Hunt. It means more to me than you know. I've never been brave enough to share anything I've written that was longer than 2000 words before, so to go beyond 16,000 words and share them online is a personal achievement for me. The Lion's Hunt is only an introduction to a universe I've been creating for longer than I care to admit, but I hope the hints of that universe came across to you. Is it perfect? No. Was it meant to be? It's always the aim, but as I continue to improve in this craft, I hope you were able to see what I was trying to accomplish with this story.

If you're interested in contacting me, asking any questions, critiquing my work (Honestly, I'm always looking for feedback both positive and negative), or just following me, you'll find me @DRileyAmusing on various social media platforms. Because it's my name and it sounds like "Highly Amusing". And yes, I am aware how terribly corny that sounds.

If you enjoyed the story, please share it with your friends, family, and colleagues.

Finally...

The difference between the poem written in part 1 and the poem written here in part 9 is where the larger story lays. At some point I will finish that larger story, but should you wish to compare the poems, because maybe you missed that most subtle of changes "In fact, it was a single letter"...Please click here to go back to part 1 of The Lion's Hunt.

Fantasy
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