Al Raqis (Part One)

Dec. 29 - Al Raqis

The hot, dry wind stirred up trails of sand off the surface of the dunes.

My aim in coming to this world was two fold.

First, I wanted to locate the Constable of Splintered Rock and ask him about Ardra's visit. However, no matter where I looked I could not find evidence of the good constable. This could be bad. Ardra has ties to the illegal organ trade. It would be a shame if the Constable began to show up on the black market...well, in pieces.

Second, it was now a matter of public knowledge that TTW Cordelia class freighter, 'Christine', carrying Commander Faith had arrived here at the new space station over Al Raqis. I could poke around and not worry about my presence here being a danger to my sources.

It was to this second aim that I journeyed from Splintered Rock to the settlement in Al Raqis.

Unlike my first visit to this world, this time I travelled largely through the desert. I had begun to master the uneven yet measured walk that both conserved energy and did not draw the attention of the native fauna.

I was dressed in my hydrosuit and cloak, wearing my mask and my goggles. By the time I reached the settlement of Al Raqis, my hair, skin and clothes were dusty. To the casual observer I would have looked like a desert explorer, if not actually native.

So, when I saw a man in full combat suit speeding around the plaza, I thought I would present as a local and see what I could find out.

It has been a while since I was undercover. I thought it might be a refreshing change.

"Hail," I said in greeting.

The trooper saluted. "At ease." he said.

"You are of the governor's men," I began trying to get a handle on the local dialect as I spoke.

"Classified."

I challenged him. "You wear his bird over your heart."

"I'm sorry," he replied, "But you are mistaken. I am an elite shock trooper of the UNSC," he declared, "Here on reconnaissance. Now, I would like to know the location of the new space station."

"UNSC... what does this mean?" I asked.

He told me.

I looked up in the sky. "It is up there," I said referring to the station, "We want to have our skies clear."

"I am an ODST," he continued, "Orbital Drop Shock Trooper."

"So many letters..." I said with a frown, doing my best to look confused.

"That's why we invented acronyms ma'am," he explained patiently. He glanced up. "How can I get on said space station?"

"I am from the desert," I replied, "I do not know of such things. I am sorry."

"Very well," replied the trooper, "You have served your purpose. Thank you. Now forget you ever saw me."

I did not reply. Instead I was appraising his technology. He could move unnaturally fast is short bursts. It would make him a difficult target.

"You move like the wind," I said as he breezed past.

"I give that effect," he acknowledged.

"That is a fine skill," I remarked.

That was an understatement. With a dozen of these units I could take almost any settlement on the Rim.

"It's kept me alive all these years," said the trooper.

"Teach this to me.... please." I said 'please' as if it was an awkward word.

The trooper however noticed a figure down the road. "Unsafe," he called out and sped across the plaza with his gun drawn.

A young lad, early teens, stepped out of a warehouse and noticed the trooper. "What's the gun for?" he cried, "I didn't take anything."

The trooper stopped. "Thought you were someone else," he said. "Move along. You never saw me."

I watched the pair carefully.

"I can look around," said the boy, "Or do I need papers here too?"

"No," replied the trooper, "Move along."

The boy looked the man up and down. "I was until you pointed a gun at me."

He nodded politely at me. I nodded carefully in return.

"Citizen," said the trooper, "I need to know where the new station is."

The boy pointed to the left, "It's that way I think. "

"None of you ever saw me," commanded the trooper.

"Sheesh, then maybe you need to move along," answered the boy, "Like the wind. No one sees the wind."

The trooper ran off in rapid bursts.

"He moves fast," I remarked.

"Stealth tech," said the boy.

"Like the wind and shadows," I added.

"I think it's all smoke and mirrors, myself," commented the boy.

Together we watched the trooper disappear.

"I'm called Lynx," said the boy.

"Greetings," I said, "Is this your dwelling?" I indicated the building he had been in when the trooper ran up to him. It was the warehouse belonging to Faith Industries.

"I wish," said Lynx. "I don't have a dwelling. I don't even know where home is."

"I don't understand," I said but my mind was no longer focused on the boy. Across from where we were standing were the offices of the Cortex News Service. The door opened and Tillery Woodhen came out of the building in a wheelchair.

Lynx kept talking, "Um. I don't have a past. Well, None that I can recall. I woke up in a cargo container."

Mr. Woodhen drew close to us.

"Hello again, sir," said Lynx.

"Hello," replied the newsman.

"How can you not have a dwelling?" I asked Lynx, gradually resuming my normal speech patterns.

"When you don't have any money..." replied Lynx

I looked at Mr. Woodhen but I said nothing.

He nodded towards me. I'm sure he recognized me. He then moved away to the news terminal in front of his office.

"There is no money here," I said automatically, "Spice is the coin of the desert."

"Maybe not money," replied Lynx "But there are things here I can sell. I don't really know about spice.

"If you plan to harvest spice, you must wear the proper clothes."

"Why is that?" asked the boy.

"The desert will take your water."

"I've never been out in the desert before," said Lynx.

"So if this is not your dwelling.... why are you here at this building?" I talked but all the while I watched Mr. Woodhen in his wheelchair.

Lynx smiled politely, "Curiosity. I like to look around."

Tillery Woodhen tapped at the interface's keyboard, checking connectivity.

"Do you live here?" asked Lynx

"Not in this building, no."

"Alright," he replied "Do you find spice?"

"I have," I said.

I could not ignore the matter any longer.

"That man...." I began.

"What about him?" asked Lynx.

"He cannot walk," I said. "I must know why."

I walked over to Mr. Woodhen.

"What happened to your legs?" I asked.

He looked up at me. "Shadow," he replied.

I sighed heavily.

Lynx had followed looking confused.

"Tell me what happened..." I said.

"I was on Shadow when it was glassed," answered Mr. Woodhen.

"A planet got glassed?" Lynx asked.

"Did you notice how the feed from Shadow attack was suddenly cut off?" Mr. Woodhen asked me.

"Yes," I answered.

"That was about the time my shuttle was shot down. Crashed in the middle of a gun battle."

"I thought is was the censors," I admitted.

"I didn't even know there was a place called Shadow," Lynx chipped in.

"There isn't anymore," Mr. Woodhen stated plainly. "I was hit multiple times after I was thrown from the shuttle crash."

"You were shot?" asked the boy.

"Repeatedly."

"Can I ask why Shadow was glassed?" asked Lynx.

"They were looking for someone." Mr. Woodhen gave me a significant look.

"Who is 'they'?" asked Lynx.

I waited for the reply.

"Well," answered Mr. Woodhen, "The fighter that shot me down was Alliance."

"Who was the commander?" I asked pointly.

"I did see some Alliance soldiers before I lost consciousness. I don't know."

We were then joined by a beautiful dark woman I had first seen sometime ago. It was Brazen Bondar. She did not recognize me.

She greeted us. We greeted her and returned to our conversation.

"Alliance glassed a planet to find someone?" asked Lynx, "That sounds like a waste. Killing a planet to find someone?"

Mr. Woodhen looked at me. "Are you surprised?" His gaze was intense.

"How did you escape the bombardment?" I inquired.

"Trading ship sent shuttles to evacuate anyone they could. They wound up operating on me on our way to another moon."

"How many escaped with you?" I continued.

Brazen Bondar listened politely before stepping back and to allow us to finish our conversation.

"A few. Maybe 5 people they were able to catch."

Lynx joined in, "Who were these Alliance people looking for?"

"Sentry Swashbuckler and Mikie Rhiadra," answered Tillery.

Lynx shrugged, "I don't know these people." he added helpfully.

I watched as Ms. Bondar cross the square.

Mr. Woodhen was clenching his fists, the anger brewing beneath the surface, as he told his tale. You could see him force himself to relax.

Ms. Bondar walked down to Faith Industries and stepped inside.

"Can they do anything for your legs?" I asked.

"No," answered Tillery, "The bullets shredded too many nerves. Frankly, I'm lucky to be here."

"Only a top medical facility can fix something like that," added Lynx

"What happened to your crew?"

"Of the rescue ship?"

"Your own people," I said. Last time we talked he expressed concern for their safety.

"Didn't have any on world that day, thank Buddha," he answered. "I was in my private shuttle."

I nodded. "Can you tell me any more details?"

His anger rose to the surface.

"You mean like seeing pieces of Serenity Station hitting the surface? Seeing my government's soldiers destroying a world?" He caught himself and took a deep breath to calm himself.

I listened carefully.

"Sorry," he said, "I'm still a bit bitter."

"The Alliance destroyed a station?" asked Lynx.

"Everything on Shadow or in orbit was destroyed. The ship that rescued me was barely able to undock in time from the station."

Lynx shook his head in disbelief.