Chapter 943: The Setting Sun

Chapter 943: The Setting Sun

Overstated myth? Huh. Is that what the cool kids say now? That they're an overstated myth? That one of the Forerunners was an overstated myth?

Tell me, researcher and scientists of your investigative journey...

...have you ever seen what was left behind by the Forerunners? Their works? The devastated systems where they fought that last desperate struggle against the ultimate devourer? Have you actually found any intact equipment or facilities from them?

No?

Look around you. What our world, which you view as a world of high tech miracles, is a pale shadow of the Forerunner's glory.

But, I can tell. You seek information. You want to know where you can find the Forerunners. Where you can find the remnants of their great works.

You wish to plunder them in hopes of prying even the most bare basic technology from them.

Fine.

First, heed my warning.

They were called what they were, we now call them only Forerunners, for a reason.

Should you seek them out, should you disturb their relics, you will discover why.

But you won't heed my words. I can see the greed and hope in your eyes that I'll give you the clue you need to find some piece of military equipment you can reverse engineer to win that centuries old war you have been slapfighting about with, bothering everyone else.

Between the Hive Worlds of the Mantid and the Treana'ad territory and the Great Gulf, to the outside of the Rigellian Saurian Compact worlds, downward from the Pubvian Dominion, you'll find what you seek.

The Tomb Worlds.

Where even death may die.

Where that which lay dreaming should not be disturbed.

But mark my words and heed my warning, you'll find out what they were known as before they were known as the Forerunners.

The Mad Lemurs of Terra.

You will walk amid their madness.

And you will understand why we still fear them.

Oh, yes, you will. - Ta'lkn'to'ou - Lanaktallan Historian, 2,871 Current Era

I'm giving you this information for one reason and one reason only.

Your war.

That war that you've been fighting for nearly six hundred years. The one you have tried to drag all of us Forerunners into in hopes we'd crush your enemy.

We have voted. We have said the proper prayers from the Book of Telkan and summoned the Gestalts.

They have agreed.

The information you seek will end your war.

The Forerunners had areas like the ones you have searched for in vain.

Go to these coordinates. Take your battle fleet, you will have to fight your way through the defenses. Not to worry, they were considered obsolete when they were built.

There, you will find what will end your war.

But, I warn you: Be careful what you wish for.

There are no genie in the Tomb Worlds.

Only those who died screaming. - Researcher Ark.Puk, 3,722 Current Era

They weren't 'Forerunners', dumbass. They were the Mad Lemurs of Terra.

You think if you find one of their old tech-worlds, you can reverse engineer something to win your stupid slapfight that neither one of you incompetents can finish?

You don't have the tools to build the tools to build the tools to even understand their technology.

It wouldn't work for you anyway.

Why? You don't understand rage, you pathetic mewling race of infants.

What? Your little slapfight? You're like two puffies shaking tinsel at each other. You don't know the meaning of wrath, of hate, of rage.

Oh, a planet cracker? Why, you have indeed put on your big boy panties, complete with ribbons and sparkles. No, it doesn't impress us. A nova spark? My my my, look who thinks they're ready to put on the big boy bra now. Is it nippleless or just have tassels on the front of the cups?

Save your threats, you pathetic creatures. We are the Pubvian Dominion. Your fleet, your 'grand war fleet' you brought to 'force' us to answer you? We thought it was just in case you had to stop by a Puntimat strip joint in a rough area of the galactic spur.

We aren't impressed by fifty ships.

Come back when you're all grown up and want a real fight.

As a token of our amusement, we will only provide a slight chastisement.

But, to your request.

Normally, we Pubvians couldn't care less what weaklings like you want. You exist to be dominated by someone who cares, and you are beneath our notice. The Dominion has no need of domination of lower life forms.

You know what? It'll be funny.

This region of known space.

This was the home of the "forerunners" as your race of brain damaged idiots call the.

We call them "The Tomb Worlds" and avoid them. We don't guard them to keep people from taking them, we guard them to keep fools like you from waking up something none of us are prepared to deal with.

But you know what? This'll be funny.

How many worlds does your star empire have? Two thousand? Wow. A whole two thousand. You are indeed mighty. And your foes? The same?

Heh. Here's the coordinates.

I'm sure you'll do great.

Just like everyone else whose thought they were tougher, smarter, and more vicious than the Terrans.

Oh, before you go?

That chastisement you might have heard me mention?

You can't see it yet. It'll take almost an eighteen hour delay at lightspeed for you to get the information.

We blew up the twelve battle wagons you left at the edge of the system to attack us. We also destroyed the eight ships you had heading for our stars to try to force us to submit with crude antimatter nova sparks that can be defeated by basic stellar stabilizers that even the Lanaktallan discovered.

And just to remind you children of who you are dealing with...

Look up. See those sparks?

That's all but the two unarmed ships.

You are free to go.

What? How did we do it?

A C+ cannon.

Not planetary batteries.

The kind that the Terrans used to wrap a snub nose light attack parasite craft around.

We were their allies.

You should not have come here and threatened us.

We would punish your home systems. Leave your 'thousands' of worlds riven and naught but dust and death.

Instead, we will grant your request.

The Tomb Worlds are here.

I'm sure you'll discover something that will change the course of your stupid little slap fight.

It's starting to annoy us.

Now begone and return nevermore. - Falethtra, Pubvian Diplomat, 3571 Current Era

We will not answer your question or grant your requests.

You are trespassing on Mantid space.

It still made shivers go up his spine.

"Their mother has vanished. None have seen her in years, and I have paid many an investigator to locate her," Nakteti said. "She left Telkan with another Terran and her twin children and vanished into the night."

Namtotun nodded, nuzzling the back of her neck.

"I will release all but Magnus and Seersee from their oaths," she said suddenly.

Namtotun blinked.

"I have another task for them. One that I will require of them in time," she said.

"What task?" Namtotun asked.

"That is my secret," Nakteti said.

Namtotun could taste steel and blood in her words.

"I worry about you releasing your bodyguards from their oaths," Namtotun said. "There are those, even now, who would kill you if they could."

"Do not worry, Namtotun," Nakteti said, still staring at the night. "It will be several years before I set Magnus and Seersee on their tasks."

Namtotun just nodded.

"Will you come in soon?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No. I need time to think, to plan."

"Our children graduate from basic schooling tomorrow and wish us both to be at the ceremony," Namtotun reminded her.

"It will not be too long. This is important," Nakteti said.

Namtotun nodded, gave her a gentle squeeze, then went back to bed.

Nakteti stood and stared at the night, her eyes and expression unreadable.

-----

Namtotun followed the mournful sound of the harmonica through the garden. It was playing a slow tune that made cold shivers run up his back.

He disliked what he was doing.

The path twisted and suddenly opened into a clearing.

The Terran, Magnus, sat on a stone. He was dressed, like always, in a rough homespun shirt, a slightly polished black leather sleeveless vest, brown leather pants, hobnailed boots, his hair tied back with a leather thong, fingerless leather gloves on his hands.

And that sword across his back.

He had a thick ceramic mug of ale between his feet as he played, his blue eyes staring at Namtotun as the Tnvaru moved across the clearing toward the lemur.

When Namtotun got close the Terran stopped playing, dropping the harmonica into a vest pocket.

"Namtotun, to what do I owe the pleasure?" the lemur asked.

The voice was cheery, pleasant, and spoke perfect Tnvaru, but it still made Namtotun's blood run cold to be the object of a Terran's sole attention.

"Do you know what my wife plans?" he asked.

Magnus shook his head. "Nope."

"Don't you wonder?" Namtotun asked.

Magnus shook his head again, smiling as he reached down and picked up the stein of ale. "Nope."

"Why not?" Namtotun asked.

He had to wait for Magnus to take a drink off of the ceramic mug. Magnus gave a satisfied sigh and wiped the foam off his lip.

"Men like me, Namtotun," Magnus paused and Namtotun nodded. Magnus shrugged. "We are as the Digital Omnimessiah made us. We fight where we're told and we never ask why."

Namtotun frowned. "I don't understand that. Your sister wishes to know why."

Magnus just shrugged. "She's different than me. Much more different than you can imagine or even understand, and that's without getting into the fact she's a woman and I'm a man, which is pretty profoundly different."

Namtotun thought for a second. The lemur must mean more than just the obvious biological sexual dimoprhism that was so obvious in the lemurs.

"You don't ask why? Why not?" Namtotun asked.

Magnus shrugged and took another drink. "What's to know?" he asked. "Go here. Kill this poor son of a bitch, go there, kill that poor dumb brave bastard. Go to that place and wreck all their shit, hurry to that location and burn everything down," Magnus shrugged. "I'm a simple man, Namtotun. I leave plotting and scheming to people like you and my sister," he gave a wry chuckle. "And, of course, my mother."

Namtotun felt frustrated, but knew better than to press.

"I had thought that, perhaps, you knew what my wife plans," Namtotun said.

Magnus just shrugged again, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his harmonica.

"Nope. Don't care none neither," he said. He played a quick tune on the harmonica. "When the time comes to tell me what my part is, when the time has come to do my part, I'll do it."

"I was hoping you would know," Namtotun said. He turned and began to walk from the clearing.

"I'm a simple man, Namtotun," Magnus said as Namtotun moved down the garden path.

The harmonica music seemed to mock him.

But Namtotun could remember vividly the lemur ripping the door off of an armored troop transport with his bare hands like he had been pulling the top off of a fizzystim.

-----

Nakteti kissed Namtotun on the tip of his nose.

Namtotun rubbed noses with her for a moment.

"I don't know when... if... I'll be back," she said.

Namtotun just nodded.

They had argued, many times, since she had made her decision to leave. A week of arguing.

Namtotun regretted it now.

"Come back when you can," he said.

"I will," she said.

Part of Namtotun felt it was a lie.

He knew the real reason.

He had gotten older in the three decades since she had taken his eye. He had been an adult then, older than Nakteti was. He walked with a cane now.

She looked the same.

He watched her turn and walk toward the shuttlecraft. It was blocky and unfinished looking.

Every child on New Tnvaru or in the Tnvaru Systems could identify it by sight.

The landing shuttle of the It Tastes Sweet.

The female lemur followed Nakteti as she boarded.

Namtotun felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Magnus staring at him with a solemn expression on his face.

Namtotun expected a threat or a promise of violence.

"It was always going to end this way," Magnus said.

With that, the lemur walked away, leaving Namtotun to ponder those words.

-----

The It Tastes Sweet had made jumpspace.

The lights were red. The air had a fine mist in it that tasted faintly of rust.

The cargo compartment was full.

But at the center, held tight in a web of straps and cargo nets, was a single object.

An older cryo tube.

Nakteti stood at the head of it, her gripping hands on it.

She stared into the frost.

At Major Carnight's face.