Space Angels: find the Gift (complete)

●•·ƬӇЄ ЄD0Ɲ SƐƇƬ0Ʀ·•● ~ Chapter Twenty-seven

Malik's planet

27 – the Judgement

Borak hovered in the shadows, careful not to make a sound.

Malik used a golden quill to transcribe his conversation with the Bright One. There was no scratching noise as the nib danced across the reddish parchment, only a needle of light creating letters of liquid gold. Borak noted hundreds of scrolls in the room, rolled up and stacked on shelves, and guessed they were records of the Bright One's past transmissions. He wished he could remove them and read every one, but they would disintegrate if taken from the roundhouse's protective environment, and he couldn't unravel them during Malik's transmission. If Malik were to discover him lurking in the darkness he may use those formidable powers against him, especially if startled. He was breaking a sacred rule by being here at all.

Borak meditated, allowing himself to become part of the room, absorbing its ambience, feeling the Bright One's radiance flood the space from the oval crystal on the wall, listening intently to the words that left Malik's mouth and the replies the Bright—

Borak concentrated his mind on the Bright One's voice. It had its usual kindly tone, the Kaelestian accent, but the pattern of speech was slightly different... When the Bright One mentioned how Stygien's 'proud soldiers' had perished, Borak's many eyes narrowed. The Bright One would never talk of pride in this way. Only a Power would talk of soldiers... or one who was once a Power... And few would call Stygien the Mighty Lord, except his minions or... The fluids in Borak's body suddenly ran cold. Malik was talking to Lord Stygien.

It was clear now that Malik didn't know he was communing with an imposter, but it took all of Borak's concentration not to cry out. As the transmission continued, Borak tried to comprehend how Stygien had manufactured this vile deception. One of his eyes focused on the insect above. A solitary purple beam now mingled with the Missum Crystal's white column of energy, like a tiny thread running up a sleeve. This device was intercepting the Bright One's messaging pathway – perhaps similar contraptions branched off at different points along its length – but where? It had to be a place none would suspect, somewhere where time folded in on itself enabling the Virtue messaging system to deliver and receive messages at virtually the same instant... Then it came to him: the Braided Bands. Stygien had planted these devices inside the Linnet Gate's vortex, in an array that allowed him to tap into the Bright One's own messaging frequency from his home planet. Somehow, Stygien knew Borak would choose that gate. He could fool Malik and track Borak's every move inside the space-time pathway; there was no way Borak could return to Kaelestia that way. There would be a thousand attack ships waiting for him. The plan was fiendish and devious. Two of Stygien's best qualities, he reflected with irony. The pathway would have to be cleansed. It could take a hundred Thrones many centuries. Borak would have to find another route home.

Malik began nodding. The communion would soon be over. Borak hugged the shadows as he carefully skirted around the room, using every eye to ensure he didn't bump into anything and make a noise. He had to get as close to Malik as he dared while the Virtue was distracted with his transmission with the monster he thought was the Bright One. He opened his cone wide and, now upside down, floated directly above the Virtue's bronze helm.

"Yes, my Bright One. Thank you," Malik was saying. "I look forward to our next communion with much joy."

The flat oval crystal set into the rock wall dimmed. A second later, the Missum Crystal's column of light disappeared, and the room was suddenly dark, save for the light of one of the planet's moons. Borak pounced. Like a predator grabbing its prey with its jaws, Borak's cone enveloped the armoured Virtue down to his waist, before rising rapidly and flipping himself upright. The Virtue's legs sank into the Throne's open cone, immediately covered by a thin translucent shroud of flesh. Malik was sealed within, sleep-inducing chemicals saturating his armour before he knew what was happening.

Borak cloaked himself with his invisible buffer and waited. Vetala would return to find out how the transmission to his master had gone. He searched the room and noted a small book on a table by the door. He flicked it open with an invisible wing.

Vetala had made a note in the log before he left. He was drilling Malik's enchanted Seraphim in space, training them in a 'surprise and capture' manoeuvre, where the W formation turned swiftly into an enclosing diamond. A trap meant for Borak. But Vetala would soon return now the transmission had ended.

Borak had considered judging Vetala in open space in front of his Seraphim, but he did not know how they might react. They could all attack him and he was unsure if they were truly Kaelestian. He also wondered how Vetala had received Stygien's orders, over many years if the amount of red scrolls was anything to go by. He eyed the strange insect on the Missum Crystal. Its eye no longer glowed purple.

A Virtue must always deliver his messages alone, and the dome is insulated from outside interference. That is why Vetala put the device outside, Borak reasoned. It was a secondary transmitter. Vetala received his orders away from the dome during transmissions, while Malik focused on his Virtue messaging inside.

He waited in the darkness. When the door slid open and Vetala entered, Borak prepared himself. The Seraph seemed puzzled at Malik's absence. He looked upward, touching his ear – but on noting the insect's closed eyes, cursed under his breath. Borak had been correct: the bug on the crystal was his link to Stygien. It appeared he communicated using a device placed in his ear, hidden by his long brown hair, but he could not transmit now. Vetala gazed around the room, at one point looking right through Borak at the shelves full of scrolls behind him. His gaze continued along their lines until he focused on the red rolls at his shoulder. Vetala began selecting certain ones from the shelves, Borak guessed they were the most incriminating; soon Vetala had an armful. When he took them outside, they would turn to dust. Borak recorded Vetala's treachery before he made himself visible. "You are judged, Seraph Vetala," Borak said.

The Seraph looked startled, still clutching the scrolls to his breast, but then a sly smile crept across his face and he said, "I am no Seraph, vile creature, I am–"

Borak issued a bright blue flash of power before the Seraph could finish his sentence; a small pile of dust on the floor was all that remained.

"Dead, Vetala. You are dead."

Borak knew this was the only place Vetala could be judged. He suspected Stygien's forces would have a tracker on each of their spies, and guessed it would not work in the dome's insulated security. It would appear Vetala was still inside the dome. It would raise suspicions if he were inside for too long though.

There was no one outside when he left the dome. His eyes scanned the frozen chemical landscape before he expanded into his enormous saucer shape and spun upward, away from the planet and into the darkness of the Edon Sector. It was unfortunate he'd had to destroy the scrolls the traitor had been holding, but he couldn't take the risk in case Vetala had the power to kindle or possessed a demon's force to rival his own. Whatever the traitor's form may have been, Borak had issued a swift judgement on behalf of the Bright One, which was his calling, and there was still enough evidence of Stygien's plan inside the dome – the scrolls. He had another important task to perform before he studied them. He had to look for a rock.

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