Syarrhe [SPECTRA - BOOK ONE]

Prologue

The details of what happened that year on Shiuq can't be traced to a single event, or even a single cause. It was a conundrum of catastrophes, a contradiction of concepts that rocked the Triquetra Systems to their very cores. Xialad would never therafter be viewed the same; an ancient religious order would be nearly dissolved, its tattered remains left struggling to find new absolution; and those who had warred for years were left only with the utmost remorse for their ruthless and unrepentant actions. And it all stemmed from two girls, sisters, and the cataclysm that resulted from their reunion.

The consequences of our actions can never be predicted; we humans and all our self-importance and existential sense of purposelessness never suppose our actions will have any long-lasting impact. It is only when we lose sight of our true power that it is abused, and such was the case on Shiuq.

The story that followed that reunion must be fed in pieces, else lose all meaning. And so it must begin with a battlefield, twenty years before...

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PLANET: SHIUQ - YEAR: 2147

The battle was a bloodbath, the likes of which Reynolds doubted he'd ever seen. Corpses lay everywhere, decimated, the casualties innumerable. More dead existed from this one battle than in every other battle he'd been in, across a thirty-six year career with the Cerridwen Outpost Military Forces. Cerridwen was never supposed to get involved the land war on Shiuq; he didn't understand why his unit had been deployed here; he didn't want to be here. He considered himself a people's soldier, a man who helped those who couldn't help themselves. He didn't consider himself the type to go get involved in someone else's war and watch men he'd known for more than twenty years get shot down next to him. Of one thing he was certain: he hadn't signed up for this bloody mess.

Cerridwen was a young colony, only fifty years old now, and for five of those years it had been meddling in the affairs of other planets in the Xialad system; the colony had expanded its reach beyond meddling, now to Shiuq, Earth's twin from the Tyrr system. Cerridwen had no business meddling here, but, to Reynolds' misfortune, it wasn't the leaders who saw the bloodshed- it was the troops.

He supposed after everything he had seen he should be somewhat desensitized to widespread gore and total annihilation, but the fact was no one really got used to that, not even a "hardened soldier," and the battlefield here on Shiuq was more extreme than any other he had seen. This wasn't just some skirmish; the Qesmians and Ascunians fought much more than each other. Planet Lohne's Jynns had gotten involved; poor cats hadn't stood a chance against biological warfare. Humans, both from Cerridwen and other smaller colonies, had joined the effort on either side- and that wasn't right at all, not to Reynolds. In this much space, humanity should band together, he thought. Ameyu refugees fleeing the battlefield had been gunned down like ants walking a line. And that was just a fraction of what Reynolds had seen.

The evidence of the battle lay around him, the field now still; he couldn't be sure there was anyone else left to fight. One of those Voqanni monks had fled the scene earlier, and that was the last sign of life Reynolds had witnessed. This battle would be his last, he was sure of that more than ever now; he just wished he had something to go home to, to help forget about this. Retirement struck a bleak concept when it would be only loneliness and cruel memories.

Then a piercing wail cut through the blood-scented air, its shriek flying all around the corpses. Reynolds began making his way toward the sound, dazed; he recognized it, but couldn't believe that one of those could be here. It shouldn't be here. Perhaps one of the refugees had dropped it? But then, no- Ameyu weren't so unlike humans; they cared about their young like any species.

A "corpse" popped up, a Qesmian that wasn't as dead as he'd thought, and Reynolds' blaster was out of its holster in a heartbeat, a bullet nestling in the chink of the insectoid alien's neck. The Qesmian clutched the wound for a moment, falling back into the tall, bloodsoaked grass. Reynolds carried on his way without ever coming to a full stop to deal with the interruption.

He neared the trench and knelt over the side, looking down into the ditch. Sure enough, there in the mud and the blood, wrapped in a frayed towel, was a human infant, of all things to find on a battlefield. Her big silver eyes looked up at him from beneath a mass of black curls; he couldn't tell if her skin was actually olive-toned or if it was a trick of the light of a Shiuq sunset. Either way, she didn't look like the child of anyone he knew, and he hadn't any idea how to find her parents.

He hopped down into the ditch and untied the towel from where it had been swaddled around her; she had no injuries, and was a healthy, fat little baby. If he had to guess, she wasn't more than a few months old, but Reynolds knew nothing about babies, human or otherwise. His life had been on the field with a blaster at his belt, not taking care of babies; now facing retirement, he realized, those days would be over, and his life would be void of purpose.

Unless...

No; he wouldn't take the infant- couldn't take the infant. He would find someone to take care of her, but he wouldn't keep her. As he moved to wrap her back up, he spotted a patch of blue on her arm; at first, he thought it might be Ascunian blood, but then he couldn't wipe it off. He took the baby's arm in his coarse fingers, peering closer at the soft skin. A pale blue crescent moon was marked against the infant's dusky bronze skin, some sort of weird birthmark, at a guess. It was known by now that traveling between systems can cause skin pigmentation deformities, but the perfect crescent shape was unique even among deformations.

Reynolds tucked the towel back around the infant and scooped her up, letting her head rest on the crook of his arm. The baby continued staring at him wondrously; he was a big, grizzled war veteran, with scars and grey hair, and couldn't figure out for the life of him what about that would be so fascinating to a baby, but he wouldn't complain. At least she wasn't crying.

For two months, Reynolds stayed on Shiuq, facing the bloodshed and endless skirmishes from a distance, while trying to find her parents. No one ever came, and no searches ever started for a baby with curly black hair, silver eyes, and a crescent moon on her arm. The baby grew during those two months, and grew on Reynolds; before long, and with the help of the orphan matrons and female soldiers, Reynolds could soon take care of her well enough.

So, with the decision made, he returned to Cerridwen with the child- with Syarrhe.