Prologue: The Nameless Lurker

235 52 24
                                    

[Art Attribution: Stephan Martinière]

The nameless lurker had traveled in slow space for seven sleep-wake cycles. His late model luxury streamship vacuumed space dust and random particles out of the way so he could cross parsecs of emptiness at reckless speeds.

He approached the enemy's home base in stealth mode.

Everyone knew that the Giant had been scanning this reject solar system on a regular basis, but as a Servant of All, the nameless lurker understood the logistics of such a scan. The Giant must search vast tracts of space. He would miss large areas. Besides, the Giant had likely been instructed to welcome any lone singleton vessel, in hopes that the boy Twin or some other rogue ally might show up.

The nameless lurker would have destroyed the boy Twin's scientific vessel, had he seen it. 

He docked in orbit around the gas giant planet and hoped the Giant would fail to notice him. There he waited.  

And waited.

At last, his opportunity arrived. The Giant was hit with insanity gas and went missing in action. This was a window of time in which the monster was unable to scan or protect any of his territories.

WE ARE WINNING!

  Smash the runaways!

   Take back Our cities!

      Yay!

The dancing, singing, viciously victorious news feed was mere background noise to the nameless lurker. The Torth Majority was as meaningless as the stars which dotted the cold black sky.

He tuned out their blather and piloted his personal streamship towards the dark side of Reject-20.

He knew better than to land at the crude-yet-busy spaceport of Freedomland. Slaves were constantly training there. Instead, he aimed for deep wilderness.

The lack of launchpads meant he had no choice but to crash land, but he was prepared. He was an expert pilot. He controlled his crash, and plowed through a bog, coming to rest at the base of a hillock.

From there, he hiked for two days and two nights through uninhabited jungle terrain.

Only his intensive survivalist training as a Servant of All enabled him to thrive in the alien wilderness. He sipped recycled water from his backpack gear. He ate protein bars. He was grateful for his musculoskeletal enhancements, as well as the exercise regimen which he had forced himself to keep up with.

He used distraction drones and tranquilizer darts to ward off predators. Those methods only failed once. When a massive mega-lizard tried to surprise him, he used his power to twist the beast's mind.

When his digital map showed that he was approaching the outskirts of Freedomland, he ditched his backpack and other gear. He stripped out of his camouflaged action jumpsuit, and donned rags.

And a slave collar. Its shockers and pincers were disabled, but that was normal. Penitents only suffered partial slavery. It seemed their overlords were foolishly merciful.

The nameless lurker tossed away his map, his water, his weapons; everything. Most Torth, even Servants of All, would feel vulnerable without belongings. But deprivation fit in with the lurker's regular habits.

He crept into the penitent slums while the Megacosm frothed with victory celebrations.

Local penitents were too busy eying each other askance, and worrying about their future, to pay much attention to a penitent who seemed rather unfamiliar. No one looked at him twice.

Empire Ender [removed] Torth #6Where stories live. Discover now