First Contact

Chapter 537: Resurgence - Legends

The evening was bright and clear, a light cool breeze coming in from the north after a day of dry heat ruffling the fur of the Telkan gathered up wearing formal clothing. They watched as a large dropship slowly and stately landed, jetting steam from beneath it as the graviton engines were cooled via gas injection to offset the loss of airstream across their surfaces. The lights blinked several times, then shut down with the exception of a single light on the nose, tail, and the end of each wing. Lights came on, a bar of them, above a door that slowly opened and lowered down, a personnel ramp that thumped against the tarmac.

Brentili'ik adjusted the collar of her formal dress as a half dozen armored Telkan left the ship. They all were carrying weapons and she could see the flickering laser lights of scanners play over everything around them. The armor was strange, unfamiliar. On one hand it was sleek, black, slightly glossy. On the other hand, it looked almost bulky, almost malevolent. Chrome spikes on the shoulders, forearms, the back of the hands, and the knees. On the gripping hand, the helmet were designed for a wearer who's skull sported a muzzle and the ears were undeniably Telkan.

They are a long way from home, yet they have returned home, Brentili'ik thought to herself.

The next group was nearly a dozen, all with heavier armor, heavier weapons, the twinkling of phasic and battlescreens forming a nearly solid wall between themselves and anything that might be a threat.

It was what was in between the heavy armors that caught Brentili'ik's attention.

A female Telkan, all in black, a dress that seemed both gauzy and protective that was almost a perfect circle around the her. She had a high waisted bodice that was held in a tight color that had some kind of metal ornament holding it close. She wore a veil over her face that had silvery edging, and even though it covered her entire face beneath her ornate hat, Brentili'ik felt as if she could see the golden eyes of what she had been informed was known as a "Void Captain" of the Telkan refugees.

Afterwards came another twelve Telkan in full power armor, before the door slowly raised up and shut.

The group moved across the tarmac in silence, broken only by the hissing of the power armor and the heavy thudding of the boots of the armored Telkan. Brentili'ik noted that the edge of the Void Captain's dress didn't move, made her appear to be floating across the ground.

She nodded to herself. It was a striking visual and she had no doubt that the Void Captain had practiced it until it was second nature.

The insect noises stopped and Brentili'ik could feel the politicians around her huddle down inside themselves as the Telkan moved at a slow steady pace to the concourse. She watched as the faint IR lasers of the targeting systems on the power armor kept scanning the area, as the weapons on the shoulders or mounted on backpacks slowly moved to cover the angles.

She was glad she had cleared the airspace for a hundred mile diameter.

The press had shouted and hounded that they should have been allowed to be present at this historic meeting, but Brentili'ik had called out Fifth Telkan Marine Division and Third Telkan Infantry Division to secure the starport and make sure no journalist tried to ambush the party approaching.

They act as if this is enemy territory.

When the ground reached the landscaped lawn between the landing field and the concourse the group suddenly moved to the side. Brentili'ik watched as the Void Captain moved onto the grass, then slowly lowered herself to roughly half her previously height. She slowly removed one of her black gloves, then reached down and touched the grass.

Brentili'ik could see the Void Captain close her eyes, despite the veil. She lifted her face up to the stars and held that position for a long moment.

The deep pain was palpable.

How long since you've touched the earth of Telkan? Brentili'ik wondered.

Finally she stood up and the procession began to move again.

"Are you sure we do not need guards, Madame Director?" one of the Telkan regional governors asked, nervously twisting his cap in his hands.

"These are our brothers and sisters, who are more lost than we ever could be," Brentili'ik said softly.

"That's an awful lot of heavily armed troops in power armor," another said, her voice quavering.

"These are not penniless vagabonds without possessions," Brentili'ik said softly. "They, and the ones remaining on the other ships, are all that remains of Telkan where they are from. Once they are gone, there will be no more Telkan in the universe there. They, and the Terrans, and the Lanaktallans, will be extinct."

"Oh," another said, her voice quiet and full of sympathy.

The doors opened and four guards moved in, scanning the gate area. One turned to face a nondescript Telkan male leaning against a softdrink beverage dispensing machine, the shoulder weapons and the rifle leveling at the male.

The male slowly lifted his hand and touched his datalink. After a second the heavily armored Telkan lowered his weapons, his shoulder weapons returning to slowly scanning the gate area.

**I owe you lunch, Madame Director** Brentili'ik saw on her datalink. She snorted slightly, she'd warned her bodyguard that even a macroplas 'stealth' weapon would get picked up by the sensors of the Void Captain's guard.

The next ranks entered, militantly ignoring the Telkan who was now sipping at a can of Countess Crey Cherry Tastyfizz.

Then the Void Captain entered.

Brentili'ik saw the Void Captain stare at her, saw the slight stumble, the slight hesitation, before the Void Captain smoothly moved toward her. The front ranks of the armored troops parted to allow the Void Captain to move up to Brentili'ik.

"Madame Director," the Telkan's voice was female, and strangely familiar to Brentili'ik.

"Void Captain," Brentili'ik said. "I realize it is late, but can I offer you the comfort of my office? It is a short ride away."

The Void Captain shook her head. "That is not necessary," she said. Several Telkan in Brentili'ik's entourage stiffened in outrage as the Void Captain reached out and touched Brentili'ik's whiskers with her gloved fingertips.

"It's you. After all these years, it is really you," the Void Captain said softly. She cupped Brentili'ik's cheek. "I lost you so long ago."

The voice twinged a memory, one so far back she had almost forgotten it.

No, it twinged a memory that she had pushed away, had thrust away from her in her grief.

"She'ishlos?" Brentili'ik asked, reaching forward to touch the Void Captain's veil with her fingertips.

She ignored the way the gathered armored troops suddenly turned to face the two of them, rifles coming up, pointing at her. She could hear the barrels pinging and hissing, less than a foot from her face.

The dozen muzzles didn't matter.

"She'islos, is that you?" Brentili'ik asked, tears coming to her eyes.

"It is," the Void Captain said. "I am home, sister. I have returned to Lost Telkan and found you alive."

The Void Captain wavered for a second and Brentili'ik reached out and steadied her.

"But... but how?" Brentili'ik asked. "Vuxten cleaned out the cell himself. He saw them carry away your body."

The Void Captain shook her head almost imperceptively. "You and Vuxten just vanished one foggy night. I never found out what happened to you."

Only a handful of years ago she might not have been able to avoid fainting at such a shock, but the years since the Terrans had come to fight first the Precursor Autonomous War Machines and then the Dwellerspawn, had hardened her.

"My sister," she said softly. "My twin. My heart."

"My soul," She'islos whispered back.

"Sister," they whispered together.

Around them the politicians shuffled uncomfortably. The heavily armored soldiers shifted in unison, a precision machine, bringing their weapons back to port arms as if they had not been aiming their weapons at Brentili'ik's head a second before.

"I have returned to Telkan to find my soul, my little sister, my twin sister, returned to me as if by magic," the Void Captain said. "A malevolent universe laughs itself sick at our pain."

"Mother and father are gone in the night," Brentili'ik said. "I'm sorry. Our broodmommies still live, though. Still sing to podlings."

"They still sing," She'islos made a pained sound. "I lost them. When the planets broke before the Terrans did. When Telkan and III & V Corps was Lost."

"Intrude not upon their grief," one of the armored figures growled, the vocoder making their voice into a bestial sound of barely restrained rage. The rifle came up and a wisp of steam eeked from the muzzle.

The politician that had moved forward to ask if they could retire somewhere more comfortable gave a squeak of fear and jumped back. The rifle was returned to port arms almost mechanically and the helmet went back to slowly moving back and forth as the armored Telkan surveyed their surroundings.

"Can I see your face?" Brentili'ik asked.

The heavy power armor went still. Completely still. It was if the entire terminal held its breath.

To Brentili'ik, it felt like the universe itself was holding its breath.

"I have been veiled since Telkan died. Since the Great NoDra'ak himself stood on the command bridge and ordered the burning You've Got Nothing battleship to interpose itself between the fleeing shelters and the Dwellerspawn rather than allow us to be pursued," Void Captain She'islos said softly. "None have seen my face since that terrible time."

"Please," Brentili'ik said. "I have not seen you since that day in the park."

"Our birthday," She'islos said. She reached up with trembling fingers, pinching the corners of the veil.

The armored Telkan all turned away from her, grounding the butts of their rifles, holding them by the muzzle, just above the front sight post. They lifted their left arms, covering the forward visor of their armor.

Brentili'ik showed no expression, her eyes full of tears, as she saw the face of her twin sister for the first time in almost over a decade. It looked so much like hers, even the pattern on the fur.

Except for the warsteel prosthetic that replaced her triangular nose, swept down the left side of her muzzle, the left side of her face to almost her ear, and the warsteel replacement for her left eye. The fur was upraised by the thick scar where it met the warsteel prosthetic. Her throat had black warsteel cybertendons visible through the fur, a mechanical implant in the middle of her throat.

Brentili'ik reached out and touched her sister's face.

"Welcome home, sister mine," Brentili'ik said, then leaned forward and nuzzled her twin's nose. "Welcome home."

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Brentili'ik led the procession out of the terminal, walking beside her sister, holding her one flesh and blood hand. The night was still quiet, hushed, almost as if the world was being quiet out of respect.

"They have the right to broadcast this, so our people can see you return home," Brentili'ik said, nodding at the reporters taking photos. "I would not allow them to intrude, however."

"I understand," She'islos said. She looked up. "The stars... they're the same."

The procession suddenly stopped and Brentili'ik looked away from her sister's face to see why.

The armored Telkan were going down on one knee each, a fist pressed to the earth, the other fist holding tight to their weapon so the barrel pointed up. They were all whispering the same two words.

Ahead, just where the lights of the parkinglot gave way to the darkness, stood a Telkan female in all black.

"The Widow," She'islos said. She dropped down, kneeling in her dress.

Brentili'ik watched, still standing. Even the other politicians had gone done on one knee.

She could see even some of the press had.

The woman, who Brentili'ik had known for years, since the flight from Telkan aboard the Mercy, moved forward silently. Like the Void Captain, her dress moved as if she was floating above the tarmac. She stopped in front of the first kneeling Telkan.

"Ultion Knight Xerila'at," she said softly.

Feedback screeched across the sound systems of the reporters who still had microphones trained on the group. Sparks showered up as the audio equipment heard the whisper of The Widow.

But those watching on their Tri-Vees heard her voice clearly.

The Widow reached down with both hands, putting them on either side of the Ultion Knight's head. She gently pulled.

The Ultion Knight's faceplate clicked as it released.

"Welcome home," the Widow said softly to the weeping, scar faced female Telkan inside the armor. She leaned down and kissed the tip of the Telkan's muzzle. "You were missed."

The reporters made sure to catch every angle they could as the Widow moved through the ranks of the heavily armed and armored Ultion Knights, one by one removing their face masks to reveal either very young males or females.

In two cases the Ultion Knight was a broodcarrier with a heavily scarred face, one with only cybereyes.

Brentili'ik watched as the Widow moved past her, removing each faceplate, calling each Ultion Knight by name, kissing the tip of their muzzle, then moving on, dropping the faceplate to the ground.

Brentili'ik was looking right at the Widow when she straightened up from kissing the tip of the nose of Ultion Knight Zretun, one of the few males, who looked barely adult to Brentili'ik. The Widow just vanished, as if she had blinked out of existence.

She looked down at her sister, who was kneeling, weeping, both hands on the tarmac.

Brentili'ik reached up and touched her comlink with one hand, summoning emergency services. With her other hand, she reached down and touched the top of her sister's head.

Telkan across the system watched.

----------

Brentili'ik watched as her sister slowly woke. Watched her sister's eyelid flutter even as her cybereye ran through a quick self-diagnostic. After a moment her sister turned her head and looked at her.

"My people?" Void Captain She'islos asked, reaching out for her sister.

Brentili'ik took her sister's hand, pulling it close to her chest. "They're being brought to the surface. Family members have been alerted. They'll be accompanying them to the hospital, just as I accompanied you."

"And those who have no family?" She'islos asked.

Brentili'ik shook her head. "There are many Telkan who would remember them, were friends with them," she gave a short chuckle. "In more than a few cases, the person who is going to the medical center with them is this universe's version of them."

She'islos pulled her sister's hand to her and kissed it. "How long must I be here?" she asked, rubbing her muzzle against her sister's hand.

"The majority of you can be discharged after breakfast. Physically, you're all mostly tired, missing a few trace elements, but by and large, healthy," Brentili'ik said. "Some cases are a little more difficult. Some of the Ultion Knights are fused to their armor."

"The Deathless," She'islos said.

"Yes," Brentili'ik said.

"What of the Duty Bound?" the Void Captain asked.

"There are temples, priests, to care for them," Brentili'ik said.

There was a light scratching at the door. Brentili'ik turned and looked, nodded, then looked back.

"Your nieces and nephews are here. Are you up to seeing them?" Brentili'ik asked.

She'islos looked over at the podlings gathered up near two oh-so-familiar broodcarriers.

One was missing an ear, only a thick line of scar tissue remaining.

She waved shyly.

"I think I'd like that," She'islos said, waving back.