The Good That Men Do - Andy Mangels [21]
Very soon, memory would be all he had of Jhamel. His small civilian transport vessel, the only real property he possessed now that he no longer drew an Imperial Guard salary, was already waiting for him, prepped and ready and tucked away in a convenient hollow in the ice and snow that lay outside this very cavern. Once he had said his farewells to Jhamel and her bondmates, he would be gone, seeking his fortune in the sometimes unsavory world of freelance interstellar commerce.
Shran watched in wistful silence as his beloved took the hands of Vishri and Theras, closing the tight circle of four. The shelthreth now complete, she projected her thoughts, quoting scripture that Shran attributed to an early liturgical codex of the Temple of Uzaveh.
“’When you are Whole, as I am Whole,’ Uzaveh said, ‘then shall you return to my presence and assume your place at my side.’”
Lissan extended her arms above her head as though supplicating great Uzaveh Itself. “My friends, you are Whole. I now pronounce your shelthreth complete in the sight of the law, the people, and the Throne of Life of Uzav—”
As Lissan inexplicably paused, a ripple of confusion passed through the crowd, like a collective thought being broadcast on some channel Shran was unable to access. But the interruption and the oddly tense body postures of so many people were more than enough to alert Shran that something was terribly wrong.
Shran heard a buzzing hum, and it took a moment for him to realize that he was hearing it with his ears rather than within the interior spaces of his mind. The sound seemed bizarre here, out of place, but his months-long stay among the placid Aenar hadn’t so blunted his military instincts that he’d fail to recognize it.
Transporter beam, he thought as the sound of a materialization sequence ceased but for the confusing echoes it continued to cast across the length and breadth of the voluminous ice cavern. Concentrating hard to avoid being overwhelmed by the alarmed telepathic gabble swiftly rising around him, he turned quickly in a circle, seeking to locate the intruders.
A brilliant energy-weapon discharge, as blue as heart-blood, lanced the air nearby, betraying the location of at least one of the intruders. Acting on instinct, Shran dived to the icy ground to lower his profile as a target, seeking cover even as he reached into his heavy jacket in search of his sidearm.
Two more blasts sliced the chill air, filling it with the tang of ozone as he realized that he was unarmed. He felt utterly naked. This is the last time I follow rules written by pacifists, he thought with a pungent curse, not wishing to dwell on what usually happened to pacifists whenever they encountered unscrupulous aggressors.
Jhamel!
“Shran!” She was crying out in panic inside his mind.
He rose to a crouch, searching for the shelthreth party, but without any immediate success thanks to the confusion all around him. He struggled to ignore the collective terror that filled his mind, as well as the numerous inadvertent jostles and kicks that the fleeing crowd was inflicting on him.
Shran was soon relieved to find Jhamel not far from where she had originally stood, despite the sea of swiftly moving, agitated bodies that prevented him from reaching her quickly. Jhamel clung to the hands of two of her bondmates, Shenar and Vishri, both of whom seemed utterly paralyzed with terror. Shran noted that Theras had apparently vanished, and wondered if he had simply fled the side of his shelthreth partners. Lissan had remained beside them, standing proudly, apparently trying to quell her people’s fears and direct an orderly exit of the cavern.
Before Shran could make his way through the panicked crowd toward Jhamel, a blast caught Lissan squarely in the chest, causing her to crumple to the ice like a rag doll. A hulking, rifle-wielding form, bundled tightly in thermal gear, abruptly came into view and tossed a small metallic object onto Lissan’s insensate