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The
Crusaders 2000 short
story by Jonathan Hicks Eleven years before Episode IV - A New Hope Is the Afterlife a forest by the
ocean? He thought. He lay on his back with the
sensation of not really being in his own body, as if his spirit hovered over
it and was waiting impatiently to return to its rightful place. He could not
feel his limbs or move them, that ugly feeling of
numbness seemed to be all over his form. He knew he was not dead when he
felt the warm stirrings of pain in his lower back and at the back of his
neck. That warmth soon became irritable, but it seemed to ignite the rest of
his body to some form of feeling. He tried to move an arm, and grimaced as
pain shot through his shoulder and exploded in his head. His mouth was dry
and his lips were cracked. Stars winked at him from above,
through the gaps in the forest roof. The waxing moon cast a thin beam of
light which made him blink as leaves and branches swung in front of it in a
light wind that passed through the trees. He pressed his hand against his
head and took a deep breath, trying to get his thoughts in order. The King had called the charge as
they sighted the Janos Executioners camp on the beach. The defenders of
Chinngard drew weapons and advanced in an orderly fashion, but when the King
had dug his stirrups into his mount's flanks they had just ran forward waving
their blasters and cursing the invaders. The King's Tauntaun sliced through
weak, quickly erected defences at the tree line and ridden directly into the
half-built camp. His generals and men-at-arms were at a loss at the King's
actions, calling for men and riding behind him. All the men had taken heart and
had fought hard for... That thought made him wince. What
was he here for again? He wasn't sure, but he knew it had something to do
with his friend Esoum...
"Hey, Pede!" Esoum shouted. "Pede, over here!" Pede turned his head at the
shout, searching the crowds of beings to put a face to the voice. In one of
the crowds further down the landing bay he saw Esoum, his plump face all
smiles as he approached, an old blaster in one hand and a red tabard in the another. Esoum almost bounded over as he
locked eyes with his friend Pede and squeezed past the men in the bay to get
to him. The landing bay of the orbital
station over Chinngard was large enough to pack in an army, but the amount of
beings that swarmed over the place threatened to burst the walls asunder. The
King was summoning his people to fight in this war with Janos, which had
lasted now for nearly four years. Men and boys had come to place their mark
on the King's roster to swear fealty and die in the name of King Theogis of
Chinngard, although, to be truthful, most of them had just come to swear
fealty. All around the two friends were
long lines of warriors; farmers, craftsmen and glory seekers who had answered
their King's hail and were waiting to join the ranks. As a mark was made, a
red tabard was handed to the prospective soldier. Many of the King's men had
already died in the war and resources were low, so many of the men had bought
their own weapons. Brothers and sons and cousins and nephews talked of their
intentions in the coming battle, most of which were boisterous and highly
exaggerated. Although the meaning for this gathering was grisly the
atmosphere felt quite jubilant. Esoum held out an arm and Pede
grasped his wrist fiercely, pulling him closer so that he could grab his
shoulder. Esoum returned the grip.
"Esoum! What brings you to this madness?" Pede said loudly,
trying to talk over the elevated volume of voices all around him.
"Madness?" Esoum smiled cockily. "Ah, it would be
madness not to come. Every able man is here to fight for the King. I'm
surprised to see you here, though. Surprised your father allowed you off his estate." Pede screwed up his mouth and
grimaced. His long face was troubled and he ran his long fingers through his
long dark hair. He smoothed down the front of his red tabard and looked at
his boots. Esoum's smile faded
to be replaced by a smirk. His short messy hair fell in ringlets over his
eyes and he brushed them away.
"I don't believe it," he said when he saw that Pede wasn't
going to volunteer any information. "The old Duke does know your here,
yes?"
"No, he doesn't," Pede said plainly. "You know as well
as I do he would not approve."
"Your his only son, Pede, you should have said something." Pede suddenly smiled and threw up
his arms.
"Well, I'm here now, so lets just think
of the battle, yes?"
"And you never even went in as an officer," Esoum shook his
head, casting his eyes over Pede's unadorned tabard. "You're supposed to
be the son of a Duke, Pede."
"Look," Pede said heatedly, "I'm here to fight, not
lead. I just needed to get away from him and his pampering. I'm not a child
anymore..."
"He's just worrying about you..."
"He's suffocating me. I'm a grown man, and he still chides and
talks to me like I'm still messing myself." Esoum sighed heavily. It was
true, Pede's father was incredibly overbearing, his attitude towards his only
son embarrassed visitors to the halls of the Duke's mansion, and Esoum
remembered occasions where guests would frown, make excuses and leave when
the Duke started to talk to Pede as if he was still learning to walk. Looking
at his son with doughy eyes. Talking in a patronising tone, the way a
nursemaid talks to a child when he has spilt his food. Pede's mother had died giving
birth to his younger brother and now lay entombed with the rest of the their clan on the estate. Pede's brother had died in
the same bed, crying for a mother who would never hear her son's first wails.
The physicians were at a loss as to why the child had expired. Pede's father
seemed to have withered, and the strong man everyone had known had receded,
changing into a small man with little time for matters his title demanded he
attend to. His attitude towards his son had changed, too, as if he feared
that this child would also be torn from him. Pede immediately regretted the
way the conversation had started; Esoum also knew the pain of losing a child
and was trying to look at the situation at the estate objectively and with
much compassion for Pede's father, whilst Pede had become the petulant child
he hated his father for treating him as and spoke defiance against his
bloodline. In both their twenty-two years
the men had been fast friends, but since Pede's father had changed Esoum had
become less involved with the family, causing them to spend less and less
time with each other. Esoum, the son of the master-at-arms on the estate, had
felt out of place in the dark, sadness-filled halls of the huge floating
mansion and had spent much time travelling. In that time he had married and
sired a son. Both of whom had died in the
first year of the war. Pede sighed, shaking his head and
looking down at his boots again. Esoum chewed his lip and looked at him
expectantly.
"We haven't seen each other in nearly a year and a half,"
Pede said, "and we still talk about the same thing. It's as if you left
the mansion only yesterday." Esoum allowed a smile to cover
his face.
"Then we won't speak of it any more. Like you said, you are here
now and father's permission or not, you have sworn in as a red shirt." Pede clapped his friend on the
shoulder and started to walk to the heavy blast door that led to the station
beyond the walls of the bay.
"I'm surprised you never joined the King's army earlier." A small knot of boys, no older
than sixteen, pushed past with old hunting rifles in hand and red tabards
over their shoulders, some of them trying to put the roughly dyed cloth over
their heads as they ran. Proud fathers already in their uniforms laughed and
cheered as their sons stood as warriors to fight for the King.
"I have to admit," Esoum said slowly, "I was tempted
just to get away, especially after Morwel's death,
get away from this damned sector, sit out the war and let the whole place
burn." Pede looked at Esoum,
saw that his friend was watching the fathers and sons with half closed eyes,
as if trying to capture an image.
"You never told me what happened to her." Pede remembered the wedding
feast, the dancing, the only time he and his father had spoken gently to each
other, the things his father said about how proud he would feel when Pede had
married and sired a child of his own... and then ruining it by introducing a
pretty but shallow young woman to him, no older than thirteen, the daughter
of a Duke on the neighbouring estate. How she had frowned when his father had
talked of weddings and grandchildren. Esoum's words bought
him back to the conversation.
"It was just Executioners
on a scouting mission, looking for fun. I was at market at the time." Then silence. Pede looked at him,
not wanting to press for more information, but what he had heard had
virtually told him the outcome and was all that Esoum was going to say, as he
was already beaming another smile and turning to him.
"Say, let's go down to the town and impress the ladies with our
new night-gowns," he said, shaking the tabard under Pede's nose. Pede laughed and nodded.
"A good idea." All thoughts of the conversation
dowsed, the two men pushed through the crowd through the huge blast door and
headed into the station. After a lot of patient pushing and polite requests
to move the men had walked the gargantuan corridor, well kept and clean.
Sellers peddling their wares called for the attention of many as the men
walked down the main causeway from the bay, and turned to enter a cantina,
the General's Laughter. The cantina was packed with red
shirts. Every seat was taken, every available space was crammed with armour,
weapons and flesh and every tankard was in use so that some of the customers
were drinking from bowls and ladles. The men looked on, dismayed. We never did have that drink,
Pede thought sadly, the memory of trying to get the attention of the barkeep,
of hearing the sirens outside blare and being swept from the cantina by a
stream of beings and standing on the causeway, watching generals riding to
the landing bay shouting for men to come to order. Esoum turning to him and
saying what, we're going to war now? But it was true. It had been
reported that the Janos Executioners were amassing an army at the coast for
an assault on the capital city and the King wanted to cut them off before
their forces swelled beyond anything he could handle. They had fallen upon
the host of the blue-clad holy warriors and fought like wild lizards. I wonder who won? Pede tried to push himself up
onto his elbow but only succeeded in sending more pain down his back, making
him feel dizzy and nauseous. Thirst overcame his desire to lie still,
however, and he forced himself to his knees. He was covered in blood but he
was sure it was not his own. His tabard was torn but his thin armour was
un-penetrated and he felt around his torso and arms to be sure. He had a cut
along the back of his hand which appeared, judging by the wood splinters in
his skin, had been caused by the surrounding vegetation. He chuckled in spite
of his surroundings. Wounded by a root. His surroundings became more
tangible to him, however, as the moon crept across the sky and his vision
cleared. All around him were bodies from both armies. The red of his
compatriots, the blue of his enemy. Riding beast's lay with legs stuck out at
queer angled, seemingly frozen into place, their bits all covered with dried
foam and congealed blood. Janos Holy fighting staffs stuck up into the air at
regular intervals, small pennants fluttering from several, tokens from lady
loves and wives to bring the bearer luck in battle. Pede thought he
recognised a silver and green one his commanding officer had received from
his wife as they had left the confines of the orbital station. She had run
alongside his Tauntaun, shouting words of love and then flung herself at him, all smiles and tears, pushing the token
into his belt and calling for his bravery to shine so that he could return to
her bed. The men had all cheered as the officer had kissed her deeply and
then tied the kerchief around the butt of his blaster and held it aloft. This
sent up more cheers from his men and the watching citizens. He remembered that well. The
memory blurred his eyes and he wiped at them angrily. He stood, looking at the carnage
and trying to ignore the strange sweet smell that permeated the air. As he
turned slowly he considered calling out for some of his friends but was
unsure whether that would be a good idea; if the battle had not gone well for
the King then his enemies would be attracted to his cries. He turned and his eyes fell on
the body of a Janos Executioner, a vibro-sword
thrust through his helmet visor so that it pinned the body to the ground.
Pede thought he recognised the weapon. The shape of the pommel, the curve of
the handle. Wait, he thought, that's mine. Pede turned quickly as the
Executioner made another pass, the Holy fighting staff, which doubled as a
blaster he wielded swinging in is hand. The weapon arced and smashed into Fendel's head, sending his helmet and pulped flesh flying
through the air to land at Pede's feet. What was left of Fendel fell to the
ground without a sound. Even if he had screamed, Pede doubted he would have
heard it over the sound of the battle.
"Where's the King?" shouted Esoum, his blaster flashing in
the sun and cutting down an already wounded blue-clad soldier. The man fell
to the ground with a smouldering shoulder, and before he could raise his hand
to yield Esoum and almost shot his head in two. Pede wasn't listening. He was
looking down at Fendel's bloodied helm, remembering
when they had swapped helmets because Fendel was complaining that his nose
guard was rubbing. That was this morning. This morning. The Executioner had downed
another red shirt by trampling him into the dirt with his riding lizard. The
huge war beast seemed to share its rider's bloodlust and was screaming as it
kicked out, making a wide circle around it as warriors attacked simpler
targets. The Janite held his bloodied staff aloft and screamed for a
challenge. In his rage Pede forgot the
Executioners distinct armour and war beast advantage. He ran forward,
swearing he could hear the Janite taunt him with laughs. Behind him he heard
Esoum cry out about escaping something that something was a trap, but these
words did not sink into his consciousness. All he could see was this
blue-armoured Executioner, fighting mere foot soldiers encased in metal and
sitting astride a demonic steed. He ran at the Executioner who turned to face
him, weapon ready. As Pede approached he had to duck under the swing of the
staff, but he got up close to the Executioner and raised his vibro-sword. The Executioner swung the staff
with little to no momentum and only succeeded in removing Pede's helmet. He
lifted his energy shield to counter a return blow, but Pede was not going for
him. With one swift stroke he amputated one of the lizard's forelegs, causing
the beast to scream and topple. The Executioner yelled and threw himself off,
landing hard. Pede was shocked at how nimble the man was even encased in
armour. The war beast crashed down whinnying pitifully. The Executioner tried to stand
but Pede had already rushed in, his knee crashing into the Executioner's
chest and knocking him onto his back. Pede lifted his vibro-sword
with both hands, point down, and with a cry of rage he forced the blade down
into the visor. The Executioner shuddered once and then did not move. It was at that point, he
remembered now, the thrashing lizard had kicked him in the back and sent him
headlong into a tree. He sighed. He had never felt that
way before, that sense of burning rage build inside him, but he was sure it
had always been there. He regretted the death of the Executioner but knew it
had been necessary. He just wished he had not killed him with such...
passion. The three-legged lizard still lay
by the Executioner. Someone had cleaved its throat, either by accident during
the battle or with intent to spare the beast the agony. Pede retrieved his vibro-sword and wiped it on the beast's hide, placing it
back into the sheath that was still at his side. Esoum, he thought, turning to
where he had last seen his friend. Some of the bodies were so
mutilated that Pede wasn't sure who most of them were; he had got to know
many of them as they travelled to the coast after their hurried departure
from the station. He knew he would recognise Esoum, however, because he had stuffed
a twig down the back of his helmet in a parody of the plume that cascaded
down their commander's back from his intricate helm. He had said that
decoration was the obvious way to survive the coming fight. Immediately
after, the rallying call had been made and the troops had surged forward. But there was no sign of helmet,
twig or friend. If one of the bodies with their faces removed was him, he
could not tell, but he was sure that the build of some of them was wrong. On
the other hand, he couldn't be sure. It was dark. Pede felt that that he should be
feeling grief for the loss of his friends but the only emotions he could
muster were relief at surviving and exhaustion, two feelings that caused
another emotion to surface, that of profound guilt. As far as he knew he was the only
survivor of this terrible conflict, he stood alone while all around him lay
still. The silence was making him feel claustrophobic, as if the darkness was
closing in on him and crushing the soul from his body.
"Hello?" he called to the trees. "Hello!" he
shouted at the sky.
"Anybody!" he screamed to the dead. He waited, but no reply was
coming. He knew that there had been a ferocious battle down on the beach and
for some unknown reason he was loathe to investigate
the area. The carnage around him had been hidden somewhat by the vegetation.
On the open beach it would all be there for him to view. Besides that fact, he may find Esoum's body. He turned slowly, feeling the
ache in his back increase and his neck click as he moved it. It was a long walk back to the
capital, where he knew he should go.
The
Crusaders 2000 short
story by Jonathan Hicks Eleven years before Episode IV - A New Hope Histories
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A brief entry showing the hatred
between many of the Setnin worlds, in this case Janos and Chinngard. With many warrior races spread throughout
the sector it was inevitable that wars would spring up between these
worlds. Threats from the outside
during this era of the Setnin Sectors history were rare and inconsequential,
a fact that would soon prove to be incorrect... Cast of Characters Pede Esoum King Theogis of Chinngard Morwel Fendel |