THIS IS THE SECOND PART OF CHAPTER ONE IF YOU ARE ACTUALLY INTERESTED ENOUGH TO READ MORE
-THANKS!!!

He came to in a room that he hadn’t seen before. What a dream…but no…
He sat up suddenly. Wiring hung down from the ceiling, like a creature, when you first slit open the stomach, the bloody guts hanging about.
Piping, wiring, it all hung from the gray black ceiling, Monitors covered in non existent bio readings from empty beds, bags of multi colored blood hung about. Quinn leaned forward, placing his cold hands on his knees. His head was swimming again.
Was he dead? He remembered something about being dead. He looked down at himself, he didn’t look dead anyways. Then shock hit him. He not only did he look alive; he looked like a half breed. He looked down at his swinging legs; they were clothed only in his half legged warmers. Short rough woolen pants that tied off at his knees in order to keep him warm in the winters, because of the hour he rose and the thinness of his regular town pants, it was often too cold to wear only his underpinnings, so he wore his warmers year round.
He looked upon himself. His shoulders were lined with small spines of hardened cartilage, as was the side of each forearm and along the ridge of his back up to the back of his neck causing him to be unable to lie on his back without great discomfort. His human skin was pale and smooth. His eyes blue and his hair blond. His gloves had been removed, revealing the small sixth finger on the outside of each hand.
Who had seen him in this form? What would they do to him? Quinn looked around frantically, trying to assess what was happening around him. Then he saw the window with the stars wandering past, like they were trying to get somewhere, and he remembered. The room, mostly a functioning metallic, also had a weirdly warm feel to it. Quinn rose to wander around. The infirmary was about the size of Quinn’s old hovel, which was not saying much. It was still the largest room he had seen on the ship so far. The dorm, a long hallway with double bunks crammed in it, was not quite the width of two people, and what he had seen of the bridge, it did not look any larger.
There were three beds, small, but padded and clean, that jutted out from the walls. Along the edges someone had taken the time to carve a pattern. As Quinn kneeled down and ran his fingers along the small irregular line, he saw that it was not a pattern but little names written out in a miniature yet perfect hand. Beside each name was a small number and a date. Quinn remembered Luke’s words, about mages dying and it worried him.
A small and almost unnoticeable vine pattern was etched into the base of the wall. There was a tiny painting on the wall the size of Quinn’s palm between two beds; it was of two beaming parents with a baby between. The name ABEL HARTFORD was penned below it in white block letters. The picture was old and the color was washed out, but it was like a relic of better times. A living piece of happiness. As Quinn looked around the room grew with warmth. They were signs of life, beyond the cold silvery shell. Quinn even noted that the blankets on the beds were handmade with a small flare of goodness. Quinn picked one up and tucked it around his shoulders.
He finally turned his attention to the windows, which he hadn’t the stomach to do before. It worried him, to be on a ship. So many things could conceivably happen in space. Still, the reflected light of the window, and the ultimate darkness beyond tugged at Quinn’s senses. He walked over and pressed his face against the smooth, tempered glass and looked at the sluggish stars. He felt as though he were five, riding in a cruiser for the very first time. The low flying hover crafts that his adopted mother had taken him on once. Things moved like he had never seen. They didn’t move quickly, but they moved, or rather, he did. The constellations had never moved and reformed as they did now. It was so strange, to be swimming in a sea of darkness. With the water above you, and the water below. Quinn had never seen the sea, but this is how he imagine it.
It made him cold again, to look out into forever and imagine what lay beyond. Was there anything he could not see?
Then he realized it. It was not the stars that were moving. No, they were moving far to slow for that. It was the planetoids. The several planets that made up his system. If he craned his head very far and pushed himself upon the glass, he could see the sun, still large and persistent. He had never realized how close the planets were, or even how small.
He stepped back from the window feeling confused, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself. What sort of people were they? Those who flew in space like they were gods. What kind of people were they who lived upon this vessel? Why did they live here and where did they come from? And suddenly Quinn missed land very much.

Quinn was sitting below the window, his shoulder against the wall with his arms wrapped around his knees. The blanket still clung to him, though it could have fallen and his distant eyes would have never noticed. It was then that Quinn heard the sounds of approaching footsteps and he rose to brush himself off.
“Eh?” The creature said, looking up from something he was reading. “Oh, you’re awake then.”
Quinn tried to think of something to say in response, but his conditioned silence took over. He observed silently as the creature walked over to a small table and began fiddling with unrecognizable instruments. He was tall, although at the moment he measured almost equal with Quinn. He had long sinuous legs with thick, flat elephantine feet. He squatted on inverted knees, cutting his expansive height almost in half. His skin was grey and his face was oddly shaped. Furthermore his hands donned, not only one extra finger, as Quinn’s did, but several, so that his entire palm was circled by the long digits.
Quinn felt strange staring, and oddly out of place, as though he were, again, watching through a window. He took a moment and then returned to sitting at the edge of his cot. After a few moments of stony silence, his newfound voice ached to be used. He was in no danger of letting his tongue reveal secrets, for now he had none.
“Um…” Quinn spoke quietly, his voice echoing oddly in his head.
“Yes?” The doctor asked distractedly, he back still turned towards Quinn.
“Pardon my curiosity,” Quinn spoke as a good socialite, “What sort of mix are you? I…I don’t recognize your features.” The creature paused for a moment, his back stiffening and his height rising a little, before he returned to his work.
“Does my breeding matter that much to you, imperialist?” He replied icily.
“Well,” Quinn felt suddenly ashamed and embarrassed. His face turned red, perhaps he should have not spoken at all. “It was not my intention to offend…”
“My,” The doctor shook his head. “But you are a well trained parrot. You speak just like a good servant of the empire should.”
“I…um…” Quinn shrunk inwardly at the unexpected hostility. He suddenly remembered whose company he was in and was very afraid. All rumors must have some basis in reality.
“For future reference.” The creature sighed tiredly, turning around, focusing his powerful, silver-orbed eyes on Quinn. “It might be courteous to ask ones name before you inquire into their lineage.”
He stalked past Quinn, picking up Quinn’s arm like he would any other instrument. There was no more talking as he silently took Quinn’s pulse and examined the extent of Quinn’s mixed breeding.
The creature did not appear to overly mind the silence, although he did have a rather disagreeable look on his face that frightened Quinn. He thought about the reaction that his simple question had elicited. These people may still yet be barbarians. There was no proof that everything that they had said was a lie. Still, they had not killed him as he slept. They appeared to be caring for him, albeit roughly. Where else did he have to turn to? Quinn took a deep breath. He was going to have to get use to this, at least until he was moved elsewhere, or he escaped, depending. He was going to have to learn to deal with his lot in life, and he was going to have to try again.
“Pardon my curiosity.” Quinn said very quietly. The creatures eyes flicked upwards in cautioning annoyance. “What is your name?”
He stepped back, raising his arm. At first Quinn thought he was about to be struck, but the creature instead twisted its arm in some sort of greeting.
“My name is Sadoc-Reskita.” He cocked his head, “But you may call me Doc, as I am the doctor aboard this vessel and that is what everyone else insists on calling me.”
“Doc.” Quinn smiled a little, finding the doctor’s peevish expression about his nickname to be rather humorous. More and more he was deciding that Doc was just plain unhappy about everything.
“I am Shatan.” He said, continuing with his work.
“What?” Quinn looked up.
“You asked what species I am.” Doc continued. “I am not a cross breed. I am Shatan.”
“No offense.” Quinn spoke. “But I work…um…worked, on the docks in the capital city. I’ve never seen anyone like you.”
“Not surprising.” Doc responded, with little anger. “We are xenophobes.”
“Xenophobes?”
“We don’t like mingling. We found a home on Theesha and we stay there.”
“Theesha?” Quinn’s interest peaked. Theesha was one of the more interesting of the planets. The Progenitors from old earth had placed seed and soil aplenty on every ship, in hopes that the new planets could be populated once they cooled. Still, many things went wrong in the replanting. So many small planetoids had not been expected and the ships were out of contact, as the radios had long ago failed. They landed in the wrong places, at the wrong times. Just as Barsimuth had few trees and not enough soil, so other planets were out of balance. Palilia was overpopulated with trees; Nioko had too much sand, so Theesha got too much water. The planet was little else. The planet’s core was very small, but also projected an immense amount of gravity for some reason or another, and so was encased in nothing but mile after mile of water. One giant ocean. The rain people lived there, rare and hidden in secret laboratories where they studied strange things that other species had long ago forgotten.
“Yes.” Doc sighed. “Are you done meddling?”
“Um.” Quinn looked around, confused by the sudden, sharp rebuke from Doc.
“Good.” Doc sighed. “Do you feel alright?”
“Yes.” Quinn nodded.
“Good.” Doc cocked his head again. “Be aware that, on this ship, there are questions better left unasked. That eliminates almost all curiosity. Allowable questions are few, ‘where is the bathroom’ and ‘am I allowed in here’ to which the answer is no. We keep to ourselves here, and you should learn to do the same.”
“A…alright.” Quinn nodded.
“Doc.” Luke said laughingly from the door. “You have tried that speech on every soul who’s walked on this ship since the day you got here and has it ever worked?”
“I still have hope.” Doc muttered to himself, walking over to a small little office in the corner and shutting the door behind him.
“Don’t mind him.” Luke grinned, standing up straight and walking over to Quinn. “He’s not exactly a people person. Ask whatever you want.”
“Um…” Quinn thought for a moment, there were too may questions to think of at the moment. His eyes locked onto the scene outside the window. “Where are we?”
“In Jericho.” Luke looked out the window. “Pretty amazing isn’t it? Sometimes you forget how big things can be. I mean, this place, it goes on forever…can you imagine? Just think about it and then try to convince me that there is no god.”
“It is beautiful.” Quinn responded, looking away from the window. It was just…too weird to think about. Too frightening. Quinn had been awestruck by the size of the Sun King’s Palace when had first seen it, but this…this was much larger. Exponentially.
“Is it not?” Luke sighed contentedly, his eyes fixed on the sky.
“What is Jericho?” He asked.
“Jericho?” Luke looked surprised for a moment, and then laughed. “I forget that you have a different language in the capital. The rebels have their own slang you see, there own words for things. Jericho is what we call this deep space. It’s beyond the arm of the Vabrau but it is also unforgiving. It’s the final obstacle between us and the promised land.”
Quinn listened as the boy talked, growing increasingly confused. It all sounded like children’s games. The Emperor discouraged religion, it was founded on impossible assumptions and caused people to have illogical beliefs, rituals and furthermore it encouraged disillusion between the people of the empire. Castes should work together to improve themselves and not cling on to any unsubstantiated beliefs.
“You haven’t a clue what I’m talking about, do you?” Luke sighed.
“Not really.” Quinn agreed. “We don’t believe in god.”
“We?” Luke raised an eyebrow. “You mean the imperials? You make it sound like you are one mind and one body.”
“That would conducive to unity.” Quinn shrugged.
“A mind isn’t meant to be shared.” Luke sat down on the bed across the way. “That’s what makes a soul worth having. Everyone is different, and that’s good. It makes us think and have to change. If we don’t change than we will never learn, or adapt. No one can tell you what to believe or to decide. That’s what believing means. That’s what thought is for and the mind itself.”
“I suppose.” Quinn shrugged. This was all too confusing. He liked that straight, controlled way of life the empire gave him. He liked understanding and knowing what he was supposed to think. It made things easier. Things were controlled, non-chaotic when everyone knew what there cog in the machine was for and how they were supposed to achieve. What made Luke think he knew everything anyway? He was only a child after all.
“Why did you take me?” Quinn asked quietly.
“I told you…” Luke touched Quinn’s shoulder, jarring him with the physical contact, no one on the planet ever touched. There were too afraid of the possibility of touching a crossbreed or an inferior, as if it were contagious. “The government had found out about you. You would have been killed.”
“Yes, but…” Quinn felt an unexplainable hostility towards Luke rising in his chest. “What made that your problem? Why did you even care? Were you hoping that I would join your cause or something? That I would feel so indebted to you that I would leap at your command? Maybe I didn’t want you to rescue me. What gave you the right to force me to come with you?”
“It was for the better.” Luke tried to assure him. He was totally unfazed by the outburst, he had seen it all before, he had gone through the steps, and that annoyed Quinn even more.
“How the hell do you know that?” Quinn cried. “You didn’t even ask me, you didn’t even give me the chance to turn down your offer. You just attack me in the middle of the town square and reveal who I am, so that I have to come?”
“There wasn’t enough time to explain everything to you. You couldn’t have made an informed decision.”
“To hell with informed decision!” Quinn yelled. “There’s no way I would have ever chosen this!”
“And what do you think they would have done to you had we let them find you first?” Luke yelled, finally. Quinn felt a little unaccountable satisfaction for breaking Luke’s calm exterior. “You think they would have just shot you and been done with it? Do you honestly think that’s all they would do?”
“I don’t know.” Quinn shrugged.
“We’re to interesting for that.” Luke replied. “They would have taken you, kidnapped you. They would have taken you to a science station so that they could study you up close. God forbid your breeding interests them.”
“What do you mean?” Quinn asked, confused. “I’m not that interesting.”
“Not that interesting, huh?” Luke laughed bitterly. “You think that would save you? Besides Quinn, you are part Human.”
“So?” Quinn shrugged.
“Humans are dying species Quinn.” Luke shook his head. “They’ve lost their planet and they’ve been dying ever since. Human’s not interesting, you say? Quinn, human’s are the Holy Grail at this point. They would have been interested. And they would have destroyed you because of it.”
“Destroyed?”
“Experiments Quinn.” Luke said seriously. “They conduct experiments on us. Electrical shocks, frozen water immersion, conscious vivisections. How long can they survive this, how long can they survive that. They torture you. They do everything they can to kill you and then they bring back to life in order to do it all over again. They can make you last for years. They can strap you down and force you to keep living.”
Quinn opened his mouth to speak but Luke kept going.
“And if, by some weird chance they decided to let you go? They’d bug you Quinn.”
“Bug?” Quinn’s mouth fell open. “Bug’s…don’t exist.”
“Yes. They do.” Luke sighed. “They exist. They introduce you to a bug and then let you go. The way their venom works, you don’t remember a thing. You wake up confused, but with little memory of anything. Then after a few days, suddenly you don’t feel so good. Soon you get delirious; everything anyone tells you is a lie. Bug’s are parasites. Spider-like, about three feet tall. They bite you, wherever, and plant their eggs in you. When the larvae are born they begin to eat you from the inside out. They go for the less important things first. A kidney, or some muscle. They way the meat preserves itself. Soon they begin to run out of things to eat and they go to the frontal lobe or the stomach. From there it just gets worse. They eat their way out. They die not too long after; they can’t survive off their home planet. They only survive long enough to attack those closest to you. The hope is that the host will be living around a whole group of other mutts. That way they knock out a whole horde of illegals. Those who are not mutts die as well. The government doesn’t care; they think those who do not notice mutts are just as much at fault.”
“They…would do that?” Quinn breathed.
“That and more.” Luke informed him. “All those friends of yours? Porsaece? The government doesn’t care about them. They would have killed them too, just because they knew you. They would have let them get bugged just as fast as they would have allowed any common mutt.”
“They said…” Quinn whispered. “They said that the bugs were a myth.”
“They lied.” Luke responded.
“How many bugs are there?” He asked.
“Far as we know, bugs only come from one place.” Luke sighed, looking out the window, pointing with a tired hand. Quinn turned, at first he could not see what the young mage was pointing at, but after a moment he began to make out a distant shadow on the very edges of the system, a pinprick of darkness in the night of space. “Shiva.”
“Nothing comes from Shiva, I know you lie.” Quinn turned back to Luke. This was impossible.
“Wrong.” Luke informed him.
And Quinn was wrong. Luke knew that for himself. He had been to Shiva many times himself, as almost no imperial, save the bug catchers, would ever dare set foot on that distant remnant planet.
Shiva. The dark planet. The last remnant. Made from the inner core itself, Shiva was blown so far from the other remnants it lacks any sunlight but for the distant glow of stars. Almost nothing grows on the ashen rock, yet creatures, too threatening and dangerous to describe, still live there not bound by civilized morals.

Keever’s first memory was screeching. His second, third, forth memories were screeching. There was nothing more to behold or witness and certainly nothing else to hear. Keever’s first twisted thoughts were of bloodshed, his first mangled word was of hunger, not hunger for food of normal sentient beings but instead one hunger not borne out of wish to be full…but for the taste of underlander’s blood.
He understood. There were people who were better than others. He understood that the bat-like Heashe dominated the sky and the Pethlet peoples were little more than scrabbling monsters hiding underground like worms. He understood that Pethlet’s were meant for food. Dirty, scrabbling creatures. Clothed in only filthy rags that covered what was important and a smell about them like rotten meat. There yellowed skin and giant eyes from life below ground, in small fece filled holes, they are only friends in one cause so long as they are not hungry. Then they fall on each other like ravaged dogs, leaving only the children alone as they must reproduce. Goblins, but then…they were the only meat around besides the giant bugs…not insects…simply known as bugs.
The Heeshae. Dominance. Power. The aboveground creatures. Long pointed fingers, like bat wings, webbed with their black shining skin that shimmers in sunlight, if they had sunlight. Long, tall and malice filled, they prey on the dimwitted Pethlet. Driving them out of their dark caves, into the open where they are blind, easy kill and above all else…entertainment. They never fought back…until one day.
Some how, after years of failure…the Pethlet captured a Heashe female. Tying her to the wall, they all forced themselves upon her till finally she was impregnated with what the Pethlets hoped would be their savior.
When the squalling half breed was born, he was what no one expected. His giant Pethlet eye’s and squatting physique, paired with the infamous Heeshae talons and skin, it was unclear which group he belonged to. While they both still hated each other, they both wanted the cross breed child, and soon the thing that the Pethlets had hoped would end the killing, started a full out war.
They gave the child a name. Keever. The only shared word in both languages, it means worthless one. He was beaten by both parents, he was outcast, and then fought over. He was shot at, protected and shot at again over and over. Till finally one day he escaped. The Mages had run low on fuel and were losing altitude towards the dark planet. As a standard, they, like all people, avoided the cold, sunless depths but when the need arose they would have to land. The civil war between the scrabbling under species and dominant predators had raged for several years only because the under species were adept at hiding. They, for all their intelligence, had never actually heard of the pathetic creature that was known only as ‘worthless’. It was ironic that it was only just then that Keever was fleeing abusive blows from a Heeshae and Pethlets fight not too far off. Luckily they were too engaged in their own affairs to even think of chasing him down. Then he ran start into a tall man with a blue tattoo like thing across his face.
“Hepket!” He swore and began to beat Keever with a long metal pole that he was using to repair his craft.
“What is it?” A smaller boy ran up brandishing a similar pole. “Is it a bug?” the boy made mention of the native creatures to this planet that were often picked up by tall creatures like himself.
“Oh god, a bug!” the taller one screeched beating out, eyes closed, frightened by the mere mention of the creature. As the pole lashed out similarly to Keever’s relatives he let out a high pitch screech that was only a pathetic, hoarse comparison to the deep frightening sound of the full predators of Heeshae.
“Stop it!” Cried the smaller one who pulled the still flailing stick of the older one away. Keever cowered down, as he was so used to when alone with one being. “He’s not a bug!”
“He’s not?” the other opened his eye a crack. “Good. Let’s kill it anyway.”
“Are you nuts?” Smaller said.
“Luke!” (for Luke was the smaller ones name) “It comes from this planet don’t it? This planet is evil ain’t it?” the creature donned a booming voice, raising his stick up in the air for a death blow. Be merciful, Keever thought, kill me. “for impersonating a bug and frightening the Derveck out of me…I herby sentence you to death.” Luke stopped him.
“We don’t even know if it’s intelligent yet. Please, life on this planet is bad enough and I’ve never seen a creature like him before. He looks like a cross breed to me.”
“Please.” Taller laughed. “The two ‘intelligent’ species on this planet? Mating? Your kidding.”
“True…” Keever whispered in that hoarse, rasping voice of his, so different compared to the smooth sound of these creatures. Their voices like water over pebbles, a glorious sound Keever had heard only once but never forgot.
“Did it just…” Taller looked over in confusion.
“Yes.” Keever spoke louder. “I mix blood.” He declared in broken English, the simple speech of Pethlets.
“Of…them?” Luke squatted down to Keever’s level, pointing behind him to where the brawl between the two warring tribes had raised a cloud of dust.
“Yes,” Keever nodded slowly. “I born to kill death. Reverse…made war.”
“They beat you.” Luke looked in disgust at the odd creatures deformed self made from more than cross breeding.
“Yes.” Keever nodded again.
“It is our sworn duty to protect mix bloods. We are like you.” Luke nodded. “Do you want to escape?”
Keever needed no further bidding. He had been told the danger of the tall ones. What they did to the creatures of Reaver. How they kidnapped them from the home planet and off to the bright worlds where they could not survive. He didn’t care, how could death be any worse than life? He would go.
At first he was blinded by the brightness of the ship, light of which he had never seen before. His large sensitive eyes rendered him almost blind in the intense luminosity the tall creatures needed to survive. Finally the smallest one, Luke, he created some goggles for Keever to wear that helped him see. As time went on…Keever learned the ways of the tall ones. They’re own customs that, for all their eloquent speech and sophisticate manner had left them not much better off than the peoples of the mother planet.
Keever never returned to Reaver. He too became sophisticated and thoughtful, in his own manner. He often fancied himself better than his forgotten relatives. He tore his mind from them and immersed himself in learning to stand upright (Just like the dominant!) and when covered with a cloak looked no different than the tall creatures! He learned to walk gracefully like the Mages and fell in rank as the tactician and brilliance in war. Third of the Mages.

“What could possibly be possible or impossible is beyond your guarded, imperial perception.” Luke sat back.
“No man has ever gone to Shiva.” Quinn sat forward, defensively.
“Your government has.” Luke informed him. “Your emperor has been to Shiva. The Vabrau have been to Shiva. I have been to Shiva.”
“Shiva is a wasteland.” Quinn tried once again.
“That I cannot debate.” Luke raised an eyebrow. “But wastelands are not necessarily uninhabitable. It’s just that only the strongest of creatures can to live there. You saw Keever, earlier. He is a product of Shiva.”
“It is just impossible.” Quinn finished.
“The Emperor would like everyone to believe that the world outside of the system is inaccessible.” Luke sighed.
“It is.” Quinn tried.
“How, may I ask,” Luke leaned in. “Did the other species get here? If there was nothing beyond the boarders, than the cross breeds would not exist. Old Earth had humans on it only. Where did the others come from Quinn?”
“They…” Quinn began, losing himself. “I…I don’t know.”
“They came from the outside.” Luke nodded. “They came from the desert of the beyond lands. There is a reason that the government keeps everyone flying in the pre-warming ships. There is a reason that all technology is hindered.”
“The Emperor?” Quinn guessed.
“The Emperor.” Luke nodded. “You can distrust us all you want Quinn. You can hate us for what we do. You can wish that we had left you. Yet, please, hear us out. Listen to the truth, for once. Perhaps you’ll begin to understand answers to questions the government never allowed you to have.”
Quinn looked at the young boy for a moment. He looked so earnest, so ready to share his knowledge. He was young, true, but he also looked wise. He looked old. Quinn considered the thought for a long time before finally closing his eyes.
“Alright.” Quinn agreed, nodding. “I will listen.”
“Good.” Luke nodded, positioning himself, readying himself to begin the story that he had for so long been ready to tell. “It has been a long time, since the warming begin, that much the government has told you. It was a time of confusion and sadness for the human people. A world that was once vibrant with life, filled with people, like many remnants all combined, large with a variety of people and land and smells and places. I think of it a lot. I believe that it must have been quiet beautiful. Soon it became barren and lifeless. The people came to realize that the planet was dying and that the only chance they had was to try and escape. Unfortunately, only so many of the people could escape, and room had to be made for the plants and the animals that were necessary to survive in space. It was difficult for them, I imagine. Many people died. After the worlds destroyed themselves and then began to cool, they moved to replant, re-atmosphere and re-inhabit the new planetoids. They named the new lands Sinai, after the mountain of God. They called them the Sinai archipelago. They tried to replant but the radios between the ships had long since failed and, as you know, the replanting did not go as planned. The ships scattered over their destinations and released their holds over the barren lands. Then they landed.” Luke smiled, closing his eyes. “Can you imagine Quinn? It had been generations since children had played outside. Generations since humans had touched their feet to solid ground or seen flowers outside of pots. Our Queen, she tells us, that the first people used to speak of how the first ship landed in Palilia and how they stepped out of their vessels, for the first time in their lives, and they walked out into the grass and were surrounded by trees and they looked around them. They stood in a field of roses, as red as blood and as fragrant as anything they had ever beheld before. It was then, our queen tells us, that an old progenitor, who was wise and foreseeing, knew that Sinai would be beautiful. Yet, it would be tainted with blood.”
Quinn listened intently as the tale began to enter realms that he had never before heard. The government never before had told him of roses or of the progenitors. Luke spoke of the progenitors as profits, scientists and wise men. They had been raised from the strongest and the brightest among the humans, for only those had been allowed to survive. He spoke of the humans in proportions far beyond the dirt slummers that Quinn was used to dealing with.
“Humans and all creatures,” Luke sighed “Are far more powerful than the Vabrau allows them to believe. The Progenitors are proof of that. They had lived, despite all odds, without a world, and without each other, for so many generations. But, alas, it was not far long before the progenitors faced a threat that God had never readied them for. It was not long before they began to come. The other species. We don’t know where they came from, or why they initially came here, but we do know that a set few of them, as they saw humanity fighting to regain itself, they saw a species that could be exploited. So, the slave trade began.”
“The slave trade is a government sanctioned action.” Quinn said. “It is a method to escape debt.”
“Slaves are sold, beaten, used, and in servitude for life. They never had any debt in most cases, and most never have any opportunity to repay anything if that’s why they were in servitude in the first place. Beyond that, Slavery becomes generational.” Luke raised an eyebrow. “It’s more than what the government told you it was. Slavery started as the first of the other species, pirate species, came. They picked away at the humans, killing them off and sticking their roots into the new planets that had cooled. Killing for the remaining earth goods, and for slaves. It was then the Vabrau rose to power.
“The archipelago was in a state of total economic failure. The currency was worthless, and soon the only viable method of payment was through slaves or through goods. Sinai was crumbling. The other species had taken advantage of it and had torn it apart. Its government was weak and useless in the wasteland of what was once rose covered. It was the brink of revolution. When the Vabrau came to being. It was a good government at first. Meant to keep the peace and to instill order to what was chaos. It was harsh but it had to be. The Emperor, the sun king, is said to have appeared like a god, on the wings of a firebird, when he was needed most. He is said to have been a strong leader who knew his people and what they wanted. For an untold number of years he ruled a golden age of peace.
But of course…” Luke sighed. “You’ve heard all of that. That era is not what we are concerned with. It is what followed. The government was moving smoothly and nothing was incredibly wrong with the archipelago. Yet, something must have boiled beneath the skin of your emperor and it happened quite suddenly. Late on an April 29th in the 45th year of grounding, the Vabrau and the emperor joined together and began to rule as one. They rose together and began to massacre. The first law was a simple one, a ban on interbreeding for the sake of health. From there the laws grew more and more disturbing. Neighbors were encouraged to report neighbors, and every citizen was to be on the lookout for crossbreeds. Their inherent mental state was questioned and soon it was blown so out of proportion that people came to believe that we are vicious and depraved monsters of creation. It is hard to say why exactly we were picked to be the targets but so we are. This all is a ploy, it’s a trick don’t you get it?” Luke laughed bitterly. “The government needs a target. They need an enemy to focus the power of the people. They picked us. They chose us.”
“What are…what do you mean?” Quinn shook his head.
“We’re not crazy.” Luke put a hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “We aren’t even inferior. It’s a scam Quinn. It’s a screw and it’s killing us.”
“It is…” Quinn began.
“It is impossible?” Luke rolled his eyes. “You’ve said that all along, but does the emperor’s version make any more sense than ours? Open those big, Vabrau blue eyes of yours! Think about it.”
“It is,” Quinn continued. “Confusing.”
“Ah, yes.” Luke smiled. “That it is. Ah, come on. Enough lecturing. I do not know what you plan to do with yourself, but for the time being you should not be a stranger on this ship, nor should you run around hungry after such a day. It will not be long before we land in the remnants.”
“The Remnants?” Quinn asked.
“Ah, yes.” Luke smiled, “I forgot that part, now didn’t I? Look now, it won’t be long.” Luke pointed a long finger towards the window. Quinn shuddered at the thought of space but he turned as it was. He stared into the darkness for a time, until it felt like it was sucking him in. He was about to turn and ask Luke what he was looking for, he had even opened his mouth to utter the first syllable when a shadow, as tiny as a pinprick, passed by the window. Quinn squinted, unsure if he had actually seen it, when another passed by. He stepped closer to the window, trying to understand what he was seeing. Then a bigger one passed by, and another, and another, until like an infestation they began to fly by.
“Asteroids?” Quinn turned to Luke.
“The Remnants.” Luke corrected him. “A portion of old earth, much like Shiva, was spread further, and in a different direction than the rest of the planetoids. The remnants, was the only portion of old earth that grew back. It was not replanted; it was discovered after the progenitors had long ago died. It was discovered by the first of the mutts who looked for refuge. It had grown. Plants! And atmosphere! It is, what we call, the promise lands.”
“Regrew?” Quinn stared out the window with renewed interest. “That’s impossible.”
“You keep saying that word,” Luke smiled. “And yet so far I haven’t seen much proof that it means anything.”
“It can’t have grown back much.” Quinn told himself. “Does it look like Barsimuth?”
“Come on,” Luke grabbed Quinn by the arm, as he was transfixed by the movement outside the window. “Let me show you the rest of the crew.”

Luke took Quinn around the small vessel, talking animatedly and gesturing to different parts of the ship that were special for reasons that Quinn could not understand, and giving names to the twelve crewmen, none of which Quinn could remember. The ship was very small. The small infirmary was the largest room in the ship, and most of the ship appeared both old and unfinished. The walls were inexistent and the ship itself appeared to breath with the movement of its inner workings. The consistent guttural hum of the engine and the whisper-clicks of the mechanisms that sat bare in the walls did not annoy Quinn like he thought they would. More than anything they harmonized as a quiet but persistent mechanical lullaby. The one hallway, lined with doubled bunks, linked everything, and its size forced everyone to traverse it sideways. A sunken door under the infirmary led to the engine room. Quinn could hear the hum emanate behind the door. Luke did not show the room to him though, he just explained that the engine took up most of the room, and that was where the Mages could find the exercise equipment, but that they had to be careful. Ticra, the only woman Quinn had seen aboard so far, she was the wrencher aboard the vessel, and wrenchers didn’t like people messing around with their engines.
The only other room in the vessel was the bridge. Luke stepped up to the slide-door that lead to it when he stopped and turned.
“You should be able to see the remnants by now.” He grinned. “You wanted to know if the promised lands looked like Barsimuth? Well, see for yourself.”
With that he slid the door open with his shoulder. Quinn’s mouth fell open. The bridge itself was fantastic, even without the view. The bridge, you see, was the only piece of the ship that had been finished before the mages had taken it to escape the Vabrau, many, many generations ago. It was small, as far as most ships went, but in this ship, and in this way, it appeared as big as the universe to Quinn. It was large, lined in smooth brown leather. A small shelf of controls sat in the front and a little to the side, and down on the sloped floor. A captain’s chair in the middle of it all. It sat in the perfect spot so as to view the universe. The whole front half of the bridge was thick, tempered glass, so that, when sitting in the middle of it, it appeared as though nothing was between you and the stars. As though you were alone in the darkness.
But it was not that which caught Quinn’s attention.
A huge asteroid, almost the size of a city in itself, shifted slowly out of the view of the ship. As its eclipse passed, the sun cast daylight upon the whole crew, who stared with a familiar awe on the spectacle.
As the asteroid passed, and the sun ceased to blind, Quinn was struck near-bodily with the beauty. Another asteroid, near the size of a planetoid, came into view.
It was surrounded by a flock of small and make-shift vessels. But nothing could detract from its beauty. It had regrown. And not just regrown, but flourished. The giant asteroids were as bright as any planet. You could see the villages and towns that outfitted them, the vibrant plant life, flowers so colored in such mass that you could see them from the outskirts. The ships of all kinds that surrounded the planet appeared as morn-birds along the edges. As the Mah-hilaki floated by slowly you could see people in the closer running to their windows, peering out to the atmosphere, squinting hard towards the vessel, trying to see if the ship was their or not.
“It is so beautiful.” Quinn managed to gasp. He had, never before, in his life, seen beauty. Not such as this.
Barsimuth was harsh, and unforgiving. There was little beauty to be found in nature or in face. When he had looked upon the Palace of the Sun King, he thought he had witnessed beauty like nothing else, but he could see now, and the palace was nothing more than twisted metal. This land, it was freedom.
He could see the grasses moving like waves as the wind hit them, and he could see the rivers that moved through the towns like lace.
“Welcome to earth…” Trigger whispered in an awestruck voice. Here had been raised, he knew the remnants better than any other and yet the sight of those rocks took his breath away every time. Everyone felt the same. This was a land of God’s making, and its splendor outshone all the worlds.

“Trigger?” A voice cried, from seemingly nowhere. Everyone else rolled their eyes, some grinning, some not. Quinn was the only one who jumped at the sound of a voice from nowhere. “Trigger, is that you?”
“Santi!” Trigger laughed.
“It’s so hard to see you with that damn invisible ship of yours. Where have you been old dog?” The voice laughed. Quinn continued looking around, where was this vice coming from? “I haven’t seen you in ages! Been to busy pillaging to visit your old friend, have you?”
“It’s all Docs’ fault.” Trigger muttered, motioning towards the doctor. Doc rose up on his haunches, reaching incredible height.
“It is not.” Doc sniffed.
“You old full blood.” Santi chuckled, whoever, wherever Santi was. “I warned you Luke, about taking a non-mutt aboard. But no, you had to take him. Now look at all the fun you miss out on.”
“I do not attempt to detract from your fun.” Doc grumbled. “Only your foolishness.”
“Yah well…” Luke grinned. “With those two, it’s near synonymous.”
“Is…Uh…” Santi paused. “Is Ticra there?”
“No.” Ticra growled. Her scales flashed and her orange eyes burned.
“Hmm…” Santi’s voice took on an excited tone. “I’ll be over in an hour.”
A small beeping noise ended the conversation. Everyone chuckled but Ticra whose long nailed fingers found their way around Triggers neck.
“Don’t even think of telling him where I am.” And she stalked off to the engine room which Quinn had yet to explore. Trigger huffed.
“Now why would I do something stupid like that?” He rolled his eyes.
“Because,” Luke reminded him. “That’s what you did last time.”
“I know.” Trigger rubbed his backside. “She opened the airlock and pushed me out. You know, it’s cold in open space.” Trigger gave a shiver.
“He wouldn’t go near the airlock for days.” Luke rolled his eyes. “Come on; let’s get something to eat before Santi gets here.”

The sickroom that Quinn had woken up in was quickly converted into a mess hall. Doc sat tins of…something before them. It was tan and had the constancy of lard. Everyone at it indiscriminate of taste or color, but Quinn just poked tentatively at his food, taking small nibbles of the entirely tasteless gruel.
“It’s called lakilak.” The guy next to Quinn spoke, over the normal conversation between the mages. He was Scaly skinned, like Ticra, with a wide variety of colors, but mostly he was rust red. He was small and quick. With short little bumps on his bald head that looked like budding horns. He wiped a hand on his old trousers and held it out as he chewed. “I’m Mikki.”
“Quinn.” Quinn shook his hand.
“I know.” He smiled. We pick up a lot of stray half breeds but, for some reason you were particularly important to some of the others. I guess it’s because we just lost the Twelfth.”
“The twelfth?” Quinn asked.
“Yah.” Mikki’s face went dark. “They bugged him. We had to leave him on Theesha. He never had a chance.” Mikki looked down at his food for a while, before cursing quietly to himself. “He was only four.”
“Four!” Quinn’s stomach twisted.
“No.” Mikki sighed, holding up a hand to ward off Quinn’s horror. “Not age wise…um, we age people by how much experience they have, like…me. I’ve been on this ship for seven years. That makes me seven. Trigger’s six, Doc is five, Keever is three, Luke is the oldest, He’s eleven. Get it?”
Quinn shrugged. He ate in silence for a minuet, thinking over what he had learned. Luke was the oldest. It made sense all of a sudden, why all of the older Mages paid so much attention to what he said. He wanted to understand these mutts, whose ways seemed so odd. “Who is Santi?” He asked.
“Santi?” Mikki laughed. “I forget that you are still untaught. He is the head of the guard. They guard the remnants from any Vabrau intruders or snooping people. No one has yet discovered the remnants, and it is because of the Guards that this is so. You heard him from a transmission on his ship. He is a very wise and smart leader. However he is a bit odd, like Trigger. They are what you might call…goofy. Ticra has a great dislike of him. Whenever he comes aboard she goes and hides in the engine room. That is her specialty. She is brilliant with engines.”
“Is she the only female on board?” Quinn asked. He looked up and down the rows of the eleven present people, all of them looked male, but a couple species were hard to distinguish.
“Yeah.” He rolled his eyes. “And a hot tempered one at that. I guess that should be expected.”
“Why?” Quinn started to munch away on the rubbery substance.
“The Races she is a mix of are…not exactly friendly with each other…sort of like Keever’s lineage but a little less…um…creepy. Ticra is a combination Sadir and Umari. See, like me, I’m half Sadir. They are the ground creatures of Palila, the bird planet. They are what make Ticra scaled. They are smaller, and their scales catch the light and can change color so they blend in to their surroundings. Their defensive systems are truly amazing. They can sense things far beyond any normal perception and they can make this loud screeching noise that confuses and almost paralyze any attackers or prey.
“The other species of Palila, the Umari, are the birdlike ones. They are the ones that give Ticra feathers. You are human so you would understand. You know all the tiny hairs a human has on its body?”
“Yes.” Quinn nodded, looking at his arms and the almost invisible blond feelers.
“They have all that but in feathers. They are covered in thousands of miniscule feathers. They also have these flaps of skin in various places so they can glide from tree to tree. They are a beautiful species.” He pointed to another Mage eating. “See Tenti over there is almost entirely Umari.” Quinn looked over to a guy who, from a distance, looked somewhat human, with a sharper face and slimmer body. His skin had the faintest tint of blue and green and upon closure inspection it would reveal feathers. His hair, like Ticra’s, was created of feathers. Suddenly Tenti looked up, revealing dead white eyes and small spikes along his cheek ridges that Quinn recognized from his own body, so he was part Vian as well.
“You see.” Mikki continued, “Palila is made up of lots of trees. The Umari live in them and the Sadir live below but when the two cross paths it can be a bad thing. Who knows how Ticra came about but the story sure must be interesting.”

Ticra was born in the trees. She never thought of herself as different. If you’re born in the trees than you are Umari, born on the ground and you are Sadir, it’s that simple. She was taught as a Bird. She was taught to glide and to climb but as she grew older things began to change.
She was eleven. Hiding in a closet. Crying. The other kids in flight class had teased her. She was different than they were. Her wings were small and deformed. She could still fly, but not as far and not as efficiently. Curled into a corner she wept. For who knows how long, she sat there. Alone. No friends to comfort her. A loud noise came from outside, a thunderclap. She could hear the excited screams of the other kids as they ran home to their parents away from the storm. Ticra was different. She liked the rain, she liked the shivery feeling she got when it ran down her back and tickled her feathers. She walked outside, where the wooden walkways that were strung high in the trees were oddly deserted. Ticra stood in the cloudy grey light. Smiling as her neck feathers rose before each thunder crack. She lay down on the wood, looking downward at the clearing below. Kicking her feet in the air she watched the plummeting drops in their final moments before the splashed on the ground in a cacophony of light. These were the only times she felt pretty. When the world around her was so beautiful that it wore off on even the ugly things.
2Common Imperial Militant ship. Well outfitted with weapons but poor OverDrive due to fuel. The only successful correction for this was in the pilfered Mah-Hilaki.

3A more advanced Imperial Militant ship. It has a more substantial OD and better shielding but it is still full of mistakes and expensive in creation. Overall a better, but rarer vessel.

She leaned forward, trying to catch the rain in her scaly palms. She, for a moment, saw her hands and her former grief returned to her. Not even the rain could make her pretty. Her skin was not smooth and clean like the others. Her hands were a beehive of shapes and textures. She leaned forward more; she had to catch the rain. If she caught enough…maybe…maybe it could make her as beautiful as it. But when she leaned forward, her slick scaled body failed to protect her from the polished wet wood and slowly she began to fall. She stifled her terrified cry, and tried to catch the air enough to float safely downward, but the updraft never came. Her wings were too small. The flap of skin that allowed most the kids to float easily was so strangely vacant on her. She landed with a hard thud and a crack of pain from her chest.
She curled up in the soft grass. She had only been to the floor once in her life and its mysteries frightened her. She also knew that she could not climb in this condition. She just had to wait, and hope someone would miss her. As she lay on the ground she looked around, in thirst she pulled herself to the edge of a puddle. Looking in she saw herself. Her scaled face, a mixture of all colors, blues and greens and reds. Her short feathery hair, they way her slim upturned eyes were so different then the blue almonds of the others. Her orange gaze that she had never really looked at before now stared back at her. Why was she so different?
As she looked down she saw movement in the brush. A group of things came out of the woods. Creatures she had only heard about but never seen. They were the Sadir, the ground people. The people that the Adults said were savage or stupid. Yet, as she looked at them she saw nothing but brilliance and intelligence. They too, stood still in the rain, let it drip down their spines and shivered happily as each thunderclap tickled them. They smiled and pointed as the raindrops fell, reflecting light on them they changed colors to match it so that they too were as beautiful as the rain, shimmering like a drop when it hits the ground.
The front most one looked over at her. His dark mahogany eyes regarded her slowly. His scaled lips moved in a strange dance of sounds. He walked to her.
“Ooh marlii?” He spoke slowly.
“I don’t…” Ticra shrugged. “I don’t know what you are saying.”
“Ooh marlii?” He said again. He flapped his arms a little. “Ooh marlii?”
“You mean…” Ticra squinted. “Umari? Am I Umari?”
“Small wing.” Another of them said, holding her arm out to show the others. He shook his head. “Too small wing.” Finally he took off babbling in their own language. All of them nodded. Suddenly her outstretched arm reminded her of the pain in her chest.
“Ow!” She cried, hunching over. They all went silent. The one with the mahogany eyes spoke again.
“Pain, small wing?” He kneeled down with a concerned look. He rapidly called out something in their language. He turned back to her. “You no Umari.” And with that he hoisted her onto his back and took her off into the woods.

She sat up in the small ground cot that she slept in. They had taken her away only a couple weeks ago but she felt like one of them. The one with the mahogany eyes his name was Rein. She stayed with him in a side room of his. He had become like her father, he took care of her, and protected her. Something no one had ever cared to do before.
“Small wing.” He said, as he removed the restrictive cast that had healed her ribs. “You be careful. Promise?”
“Promise.” She nodded.
“You must not leave. Follow me. Always.” His eyebrows furrowed. “Danger in world. Even Sadir danger. You scare some.” Ticra curled up within herself.
“I know.” She whispered.
“Hear.” He whispered. “You have eyes of Sadir and feathers of Umari but heart of something else. Remember?”
“Yes.” Ticra nodded. “I’ll remember.”

It was in the night of her second month that someone contacted the Vabrau. They knew she was there and they wanted her dead. Ticra woke up to the sound of someone banging on Rein’s mud brick wall. He poked his head out of the red blanket that covered his doorway. He blinked wearily in the night darkness. Rein’s friend Sime was running from the door and Vabrau Boomers had landed around the small village. The uniformed soldiers poured out of the old ships and marched towards Rein’s door.
“We understand you’re harboring a fugitive half breed.” The officer barked. Ticra shivered at the sound of his voice. She curled up underneath her bed praying Rein would hide her, would save her.
“I…no stand.” Rein cocked his head.
“You.” The officer pointed at Rein. “Have freak?”
“No freak.” Rein shrugged. But Ticra could see his scales slowly changing color to a dusty red. He was telling her to run. Ticra crawled up through the window and, digging her nails into the rough walls, climbed stealthily upwards to the roof where she crouched downward. She saw the officer push past Rein with a horde of soldiers as they began to tear apart his house. He gave a light growling noise but they could not find her. They both sighed relief.
Then, to Ticra’s horror she saw the soldiers push a child to the front of the group. It was Boca, the girl who used to tease her the most in school.
“I thought you said she was here.” The officer snarled. Boca remained firm.
“She is.” Boca snarled back. “Your soldiers aren’t looking hard enough. She’s a blood freak. She can climb, remember. You can’t just look under things, you must look above. Ticra saw several soldiers latch hold of the wall and begin to climb up it at the little girls signal. Ticra gave a cry of fear. They would find her! They would kill her, as Rein had said they would. She saw Rein punch one of them, and as soldiers piled on top of him she launched herself off the roof. Her wings caught the air, as the moon reflected through them she flew up and over the village in a breathless flight she had never before achieved. Then the climbing soldiers launched off too, for they too were Umari. She heard the beginnings of one of the Sadiri’s famed cries. But she found that her ears automatically plugged themselves against it. The soldiers behind her though automatically dropped out of the sky. And Rein tugged himself free of the dazed soldiers.
“Rein!” Ticra cried behind her.
“Go!” He cried, fighting a solider off of him. “To woods, brook stream! Remember?”
“I’ll remember!” She cried. And as she glided slowly to the ground in the moon lighted woods she began to cry. She cursed her weaknesses. The soldiers were close. Perhaps Rein would meet her at the stream. But when she got there it was just one man. He had obviously been camping there for a while. He was red in skin. Scaled like Rein and herself. He had little spots on the top of his bald head that made him look like he was sprouting horns.
“Ticra?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Who are you?” She hissed.
“Um…Mikki.” He held out his hand. “Has Rein sent you? Are you Ticra?”
“What are you?” She hit his hand away. “How the hell do you know my name?”
“Well…” He shrugged. “I’m a mutt. Sadir and Udo. I am the Shepard.”
“The Shepard?” She sneered. “What does that mean? What about Rein? What are you doing here?” Each question lead to another.
“I am here to protect you.” He said slowly. “I live here because the Vabrau are trying to find me. I was told that if another mutt ever showed up I should Shepard them to the safe lands.”
“The what?” Ticra growled.
“Come on.” Mikki pointed to a small grove of bushes. Pushing them aside he revealed a small ship that had once been a good looking object but was now rust worn. Ticra ran a hand over it.
“We’re leaving Palila?” Ticra whispered.
“It’s the only escape.” Mikki nodded. “I can hear the Letch coming. If we leave now they won’t have time to return to their Boomers.” They both crawled inside. Mikki swore as it refused to start. Ticra reached up, twisted a few wires and the machine jumped to life.
“Wow.” Mikki said. “I know an old ship that could use you. I’m just a Mutt, but someday, someday I want to be a mage. Their ship is pretty old, pretty worn. Want to come with me?”

“Are you dogs eating without me?” A jolly voice called from the airlock/ bed hall.
“Santi!” Everyone cried happily. For some reason Quinn had been expecting a human in a smart, almost Vabrau-like uniform. Instead a ragtag human Mehri mix like Trigger walked in. His skin was pale, like a Human’s but his hair and goatee were a real dark black/blue. His human side was probably Spanish. His dark walnut eyes smiled constantly.
“Engard ye slob!” Trigger came at him with a fork. He took up a fork himself and they battled across the table. Many of the calmer mages continued eating, merely raising their tins when needed. Quinn looked on with badly disguised fascination. Finally the two threw down their forks and gave each other a hearty hug, still standing atop the table.
“How’re the old women?” Trigger, slapped him on the back.
“Your mom’s fine. She and mine like to sit around and complain about us.” Santi rolled his eyes.
“Us?” Trigger frowned. “I can see why they’d want to complain about you but…”
“Shut up.” Santi pushed him off the table. “Just because you’re better with a fork…”
“How’s the rebel cause?” Luke sat down. Santi’s face fell.
“Well. Maybe I better let the Queen tell you that.” He whispered.
“That bad?” Doc enquired.
“They’re crushing us from all sides.” Santi muttered. “Bugging people. We don’t have enough soldiers. We’re sending boys out to fight. Boys and old men. We sent out a squad the other day. They sent us back the Imperials flag, stained with Rebel blood, in the hands of a seven year old boy soldier. I didn’t even know we were signing up that young. He was covered in blood and horrified. Said he had been wounded and they were going through, making sure everyone was dead. They were about to spear him when the emperor himself stopped him. Gave him the flag and sent him back here.”
“Oh God.” Luke whispered.
“You guys aren’t going to be getting good news from the Queen. We need you to put pressure on the imperialism. We need you all to go on more missions.” Santi shook his head. “It’s a death wish.”
“What else would you call what we do?” Luke whispered. “They got twelfth, Santi.”
“Mae’n?” Santi whispered.
“Bugged him.” Trigger sat down too. He began to shake, looking downwards. “We didn’t even know until they had already hatched inside him. We had to leave him, to contain the threat. He was begging us not to.”
“Trigger.” Santi looked sad, putting a hand on his trembling friend. “You know they’re not right in the head by that point. You know he would’ve wanted to make sure you all were safe.”
“I know.” Trigger sighed.
“What are you going to do for the twelfth now?” Santi looked right at Quinn. “Looks like you got some new cargo.”
Quinn looked downwards, feeling awkward as the whole crew turned to stare at him interested. Quinn was not used to attention, and had never welcomed it readily. He had not yet learned to accept his presence in a place where he was not in danger of being discovered.
“I doubt it.” Mikki said, looking at Quinn too. “We just picked him up; he’s still trying to figure things out.”
“We might have to sift through your ranks.” Luke warned.
“Anyone would be honored to be a mage.” Santi nodded.
Quinn listened as the men talked. Their conversation altering between the serious and the laughable. It was not an all together different world, really. They still talked as men did. They still laughed and smiled and told jokes. Yet, beneath it all, there was a darkness, like a cloud, shading their expressions and altering what seemed normal, to mysterious. They had witnessed horror. Quinn could see it in their tired eyes and he wondered what visions were in store for him. And, unperceivable, to all but one mage, whose white soulless eyes turned with interest in his perpetual silence, Quinn’s soul took the first look at the world uncolored by lies, rose colored glasses, and synthetic happiness. His eyes darkened, yes, but his soul grew just a little bit brighter.

Quinn gripped onto the wall nervously as the ship shuddered and groaned like the dying animal it appeared to be. He locked his ankles tight against the walls as he watched through the smallest of portals through the airlock. The world outside was invisible through the redness and for an awful moment Quinn felt the vessel falling faster than himself and he worried about the very real possibility of slipping to his death. He realized the impracticality of all the horror stories that the soldiers told the civilians about space travel. It was not space travel that was dangerous, Quinn groaned through clenched teeth, escaping it was the problem.
Finally the ship slowed its free-fall decent and landed with a dull, anti-climatic thud against the hard ground of the remnants. The mages came out of whatever cubbyholes they had been bracing themselves in and moved, quietly, towards their robes. They all slowly stepped into the hall. Pulling their white robes over them, their faces obscured. They changed back from the separate, completely different people into the mages once more. Like sacred tradition they wrapped their white cloaks around them, painting markings on their faces like they were going off to war.
Quinn sat on the edge of a bed with a feeling of detachment. Santi sat next to him.
“Watch closely newcomer.” He advised, whispering. “What you see before you is a hundred years of tradition and hope for our people. What you see now few people have. They are painting their allegiance on themselves.”
“Their allegiance?” Quinn asked back, whispering so as not to break the silence.
“We have a Queen.” He sat back, “The Queen of Eves. Each time any soldier of the half breeds steps onto the battle field they make sure that they honor our Queen and our kind. Not because we are asked to, but because they are the only things that keep us from the Twelfth’s fate. They do it now to honor him.”
With the strange symbols painted on the faces of each mage, they turned to each other. Each mage brandished a long black ribbon which they tied around each others necks loosely in a symbol of mourning for their fallen twelfth. Their hoods hanging below the black line, stayed down, as the mages were home and had no need to hide their faces, they arranged themselves in an organized troop, turning to the airlock silently as the rush of fresh air, replacing the stale wind was overpowered the sound of people. They were not cheering; in fact they were making little purposeful noise at, just a low murmur of hushed conversation.
The mages, all adorned with their symbols tied black ribbon around their necks. And, unhooded but still somber and ghost like, they stepped out of the ship.
The world had not been expecting them. I suppose there was no way that they could have. Yet in the sound of a ship landing, and the glinted of the mirrored outer shell, the people shuffled in curiously by the masses. They were all hollow-eyed and tired. Staring at the mages in a strange way. Quinn was taken aback by them, for he had somehow imagined a crowd of happy people who were poor but fulfilled with their lives, who would meet the Mages with a shout of raucous cheers and waves. But they just stared, silently.
It was a bustling world. Like Barsimuth. As the whole world stopped, the mages stepped out of the ship. Even the shop keepers, staring through their windows froze, staring at the mages with a weary expression. Quinn followed behind. The dusty walkway was offset by dainty little flowerboxes in the sides of the homes. A bazaar of people and outdoor shops full of sweet spices and delicate cookware. The hot sun shone down on them all. Every one just stared. Like the bar in Barsimuth.
The mages, it seemed, were outcast wherever they went. Everyone recognized their power and trembled before them. Only inside the world of the Mah-Hilaki did the mages ever seem to be themselves, then again, as they stepped into the molasses worlds they had to appear as something else, strong, powerful, and wise. A ray of hope to the people of the remnants and a hateful danger to the worlds beyond.
Did these mages only talk to one another? The drained eyes of the people around him suggested so. He wondered if they, too, had grown tired of the war, and thus the mages. If they, too, feared the cloaked monsters with which the remnants were plagued. Was it true, than, that the mages were just as they had seemed to be? Did no one outside the Mah-hilaki see them as normal?
Maybe it’s because we’re not normal. A voice said in Quinn’s head. We may seem like any other person to you. We may not be that different in personality but think of what we do. It is hard to go everywhere and be treated like this but it is an honor as well. We are saving these people. We may be normal, but we also are not. People need dreams; people need someone to strive for or to better. Perhaps, this silence just shows us, that we are those people. Just wait…
Quinn looked around. One Mage looked back at him. With dead white skin and dark eyes. His jaw was set. He stared at Quinn. He was a mind reader…
Then Quinn’s thoughts were jarred from his head as a cheer rose from the crowd. So loud and so deafening that Quinn could barely hear when it quieted down again. The people still looked on with deadened eyes, but their small smiles and thin frames bespoke of times where joy was hard to come by. They were proud of their mages, though, and no war could deter them from that. There were people of all kinds and mixtures. Some so odd that Quinn had never even imagined their like. A young girl, only a few years past ten, with Umari skin came forward. She knelt in a weird birdlike way. Her voice was accented in a light exotic way much like Ticra’s.
“Mages.” She said quietly. “We are honored to see you returned from your latest adventures. We see that you grieve. We too, grieve with you. Your comrade shall not be forgotten.” She bowed once more.
Ticra then came forward. She too bowed in the same fashion.
“People of Earth.” She spoke softly. “We mages thank you for your fortitude. Without you we would be nothing. You truly are the hero’s here. We bow to you.” And all the mages took a knee on the ground. Though the people were silent in reverence, the air buzzed with excitement. The sight of these heroes giving tribute to them was truly amazing. Quinn began to realize the importance of those eleven people with whom he had shared time. They were young, true, but what they embodied was as old as time.
Slowly they all rose and proceeded through the streets. Quinn followed behind taking in the rebel world. He was surprised by how different it seemed from how he had always imagined it. It was old fashioned, so old fashioned. The walls were made of crumbling dried mud; the ceilings were made of old cloth and raggedy sheeting. However, all the people, they smiled, they talked cheerfully to one another as they shook out their clothing and swept up their dirt floors. All of them pausing as the mages walked past whispering various condolences for their loss.
“Peaceful, no?” Santi smiled, “You’d never guess these people were oppressed.”
“Yah.” Quinn dug his hands in his pockets. It was so different. Slowly they all came up to a long mud wall that didn’t look all that different from everything else. Just a long wall of mud brick, supported by old wood planks and doors of old red cloth. Do these people not fear entry into their homes? What good is a sheet in a world like this?
“Why are we stopping?” Quinn whispered to Santi. The Guardsman looked upwards with reverence at the old crumbling walls. His eyes were distant, as the sky reflected in them.
“Have you ever been to the palace of the emperor Quinn?” He whispered.
“Of course…” Quinn squinted at him as all the mages mirrored Santi, looking upwards like the sky was something they had never before seen, like the sky was so beautiful they could not look away.
“Have you ever seen the majesty, the grandeur, the beauty of those walls? The white flying fortress, towering above the world. Marble, stone; the sun is put to shame by such brilliance.” Santi said his face still turned to the sky. “But the emperor has forgotten true beauty. He has surrounded himself with that bright building and is blinded by it. It blinds everyone who comes near.” Santi looked around, his smiling eyes drinking in the dusty world around him. “We are a poor people, Quinn. We don’t have the means nor the time to create a sun palace. Still, why should we? For the earth holds more beauty than we mortal creatures could ever hope to achieve.”
“Follow.” Luke motioned. One by one the mages pushed aside the old rag sheet. Quinn expected dark interior but as the rough cloth passed his hand, his breath was cut short.
The bright light of a noon sun shone through the roofless interior. A field sat before Quinn. A field overgrown with every plant life imaginable. Tangled vines crisscrossed the wall of vegetation. The only break in the tangle was a small path, a knife slice through the world. The mages boots ground against the pathway as they marched single file down it. Quinn followed haltingly.
Blades of grass taller then he, leaves that could swallow a man whole, and the sun beating down on them like they were outside, and yet they were surrounded by walls. Eventually they passed the barricade of vines and entered a field of soft tan grass that swept like waves upon the ground with the slightest rustle. Hills rolled on for mile upon mile until the sunlit horizon.
Quinn stopped, overcome by the beauty. A tree of almost perfect, storybook proportions like a savanna tree rose up and twisted over to shield a throne.
Finally Quinn thought something normal. Yet as he looked closer he saw the throne wasn’t. Not stone was it made from, but instead it was created from the very things that surrounded it. Two of the tree roots rose up from the ground and knotted eloquently to make arms and two more behind to make a swooping back. Then the tan grass rose and twisted around itself into a mass of yellow brown creating the body of the chair along with the odd twisted vine.
“What is this place?” Quinn breathed. As his eyes became reverent for truly the first time. A voice came from nowhere, like it was floating from the sun itself. It’s exotic tone matching the world around it.
“This?” It said softly. “Why, Mr. Quinn. This is Earth.”

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