ONE: Epilogue of Hermesh

17. Legends of a Future Lost

There was an old Amarthian saying, 'Every bit of pain and sorrow ever born in space, remains trapped in the darkness between the stars, destined to scream out in silent agony for the rest of eternity.'

As Commodore Reemon Erra left Ralnac, he, like the few who survived, felt numb. They could not stop the echoes in their heads, of the terrified screeches of the million lives that ended in that one instance, when that alien ship cut right through the planet. That silent scream reached every single survivor who witnessed the fall of Ralnac. It would remain etched into their memories, till the day they died.

For someone like the Commodore who has spent the better part of his life aboard spaceships, the wonders of the cosmos and the darkness that binds it all was too familiar a sight. But sitting inside that strange transparent ship, that familiar darkness tasted too menacing. Not even Commodore Reemon Erra, who had survived two great wars in his lifetime, could find adequate words to describe what he witnessed. This was beyond anything one believed was possible. Somewhere in that persistent white noise in his head, Erra recognised that the morbidity of what had transpired in Ralnac was so incredible, that his mind seemed to have momentarily lost the ability to think.

"I told you Reemon Erra, it was something I rather you did not witness," Sheel's voice seemed to be coming from a distance.

"And I told you, I have to," Erra replied, still holding on to the ghost of his former resolve. Although his voice came out as a hoarse whisper.

"If it's of any consolation, this time around the Amarthians and the Helmeshi fared much better against the enemy." Sheel said. "Of the original battleships that held out until Admiral Damook Attupe arrived, 80 survived."

"In other words we lost 630," Erra said, covering his face in his hands, trying hard to dispel the image of the massacre imprinted in his mind's eyes. "What about the Helmeshi?" He asked, still staring into space.

"300 ships came in as part of Admiral Damook Attupe's Fleet. 190 returned. And before you ask, Commander Tekkar and General Naaroke Barmin have both survived. You will need all of them for what is to come."

Releasing the breath that he didn't know he was holding, Erra went silent.

"Do you want to know, how many were saved, Reemon Erra?" he heard Sheel ask again.

"Do you?" Erra retorted, gazing down into the dark cosmos, where debris from the carnage floated in the lifeless vacuum.

"623,543...from Ralnac," Sheel answered, "5,235 from the rest of the System."

There was another brief silence before Erra suddenly asked, "That attack on the planet was premeditated?"

"Yes it was."

"Then you should have left me there to fight. I'm no good to anybody. I do not know how to fight an enemy capable of something like that."

Sheel looked at the old Amarthian crouched in his seat, silently radiating despair. For the first time, his face softened, as the ghost of kindness settled there. He said, "No one does, Reemon Erra. At least not yet. But you will all learn. For this future to unravel, you are of immense importance. That's why I had to keep you safe and out of harm's way."

"Not quite the words that a soldier is accustomed to hearing; especially an old and spent one like me," Erra smiled ruefully, his voice dripping with resentment, "If what I am expected to do in return is something I'm not capable of, then saving me at the expense of others was wrong of you, Sheel. I cannot be the saviour you expect me to be. You have to find someone else."

Sheel looked back at him in contemplative silence. Even though the facial expressions of the alien was new to him, the Commodore sensed he was quietly deliberating something for a few moments before replying, "If that is what is bothering you, Reemon Erra, then I can put your mind to rest. Destiny did not choose you. You yourself did."