Michael Liddle: H'ashwa Begins

Chapter One

The only sound was the hollowness of his laboured breathing even as a growing blackness inched inward beyond the periphery of his vision. His limbs were as battered as the bodies in front of him. Yet the severity of his injuries prompted no action on his part. Rogdul was unwilling to depart until he was certain the two lying prostrate before him were irrefutably dead. As his suit monitored their weakening states, the Elhadra savoured his victory. He'd been so close to falling into the ignominious abyss of defeat and death, and he was still tottering on its thin edge. But that no longer mattered. He had won and once he placed himself inside the auto-doc on his spacecraft, Rogdul expected a full recovery.

Looking down at the two teenagers, he studied their crumpled bodies, the female lying askew atop the other, their faces frozen into pain-filled grimaces: a reflection of the suffering he had inflicted on them only minutes ago. Despite her contorted expression, the girl's features betrayed the potential of a beautiful face, one that might have developed if certain aspects of it had become slightly more refined, and of course, if she had lived to be a woman. Rogdul chuckled. Well, that isn't going to happen now.

A pain-filled spasm coursed through his extremities as he finally allowed himself to fall to his knees. In response, his suit's diagnostics immediately began to flood his body with additional numbing agents, causing him to temporarily swoon. When he opened his eyes once again, he found himself gazing upwards and he was struck by the fact that he wasn't on Earth. The moon was far too small—the constellations unrecognizable. Rogdul ordered his suit to perform a location sub-routine. While he waited for an answer, he ran a functional check on his armour. Most of its systems were off-line, beyond any self-repair. It was still sparking in places, and blood, his own, was seeping out everywhere, marking where its integrity had been breached in his battle with the Uhala. It was warped, ruptured and many pieces had broken off. It was only then that he realized the compartment within which he had stored the device, this supposed "Gift" he had forced the boy to give him, had been torn off during their combat.

Rogdul craned his head about, finally searching behind where he knelt. Something glittered in the moonlight near the top of the knoll he'd been sent pin-wheeling over. However, he was distracted from further investigation when his suit replied to his location query, reporting it as "Unknown." How can that be? He had arranged for an extensive mapping of the solar systems near Earth's own. Just how far had the boy portalled the three of them? And more deeply disturbing, where did the Uhala obtain the power to do that?

He slewed his vision upwards to take in the night sky again, observing nothing recognizable. Shifting his eyes to gaze at the full moon, he jerked back in surprise. Something was partially occluding it and growing larger by the second. Instructing his suit to determine what it was, Rogdul staggered to his feet, electric-like pain arching through his limbs as he straightened up. The image abruptly left the circle of the moon, though as it did the outline of a wing tip was momentarily revealed. His suit blared out a warning: "Object unknown—approximate arrival... Now!" A bestial, murderous roar thundered down upon him. Instinctively, Rogdul ordered his armour to enclose his head while taking one last furtive glance at the two children. They were no longer breathing and his suit informed him that their hearts were fluttering to a stop.

There was no avoiding what followed next. The creature landed atop him, knocking Rogdul to the ground, then beginning to rake at his suit with a giant clawed appendage. With a final swipe, it sent him spinning away end over end. As he hit the ground two hundred feet away, Rogdul grunted, enduring a fresh scourge of pure agony. With a grinding effort his suit brought him upright, though he staggered to retain his balance. Rogdul turned to face the monster which was rapidly advancing on him—his first opportunity to properly take in this new adversary. Huge—blacker than the night—a winged lizard! It bugled again, its enormous fangs gleaming in the moonlight. Only its eyes could be easily discerned—golden, catlike, full of fury, and Rogdul could not deny the lust to kill flaring out from them.