Port Nyx is full of chaos, or passion, hard to tell the difference when you're surrounded by it. But the elders always taught that passion without direction is rudderless, but too much focus and you can be turned into a weapon. I never wanted to be either, I merely wished to continue the traditions of my village.
Yet here I stand, fresh off the transport from my home planet. I was directed to an archivist named Joric, a large Ossari who is a supposed collector of histories across the galaxy. Inside his shop is a cacophony of color, the symbol of the Concordia Society is everywhere.
The chime over my head tinkles a gentle notification, as I see a light grey trunk appear around the corner “Are you Jor-rick?”
“Yorrick” he saunters up as he corrects the pronunciation. “I was always a fan of the soft letters. And who might you be?”
“Tasz Emberfoot. I was told you could help me.” I walk toward the other side of the counter. I set down a piece of paper and slid it over to him.
He picks up the paper and I see his eyes widen as he pulls the paper closer to adjust his focus. “I don't believe I have any such artifact here. Were you looking to buy?”
“No, it was stolen from my planet, a bleeding veil smuggler took it. I need to locate it, my village is dying and this relic will restore it.” I try to convey the desperation in my voice. When he grabs an enormous book and sets it down on the counter
“And it looked just like this?” he asks, now burying his head in the book, the only thing seen was his oversized ears.
“Yeah, we’ve had it for as long as we can remember, it is believed that it balances the environment for the planet” I see the excitement grow in his face.
“This is one of the ancient planetary stabilizing relics. It was created back in the Luminar era, ten thousand years ago, to terraform planets that might normally be uninhabitable.” He continues reading to himself, muttering every couple of words.
Before he jumps back in. “It is highly attuned to the planet itself, and cannot be used elsewhere. When was it taken?” he turns toward a data console tied into the central computer.
“It was taken two days ago. The elder had been approached by some treasure hunter, he offered money…” My eyes start to well up, “when he refused, they beat him and took it anyway.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that, is he okay?” He asks, attempting to bear some of the pain I clearly feel.
I wipe my eyes and stifle the emotions, “No… He died shortly after he was found.” I return to the mission. “The man called himself The Procurer.” Joric's face changes back to serious once he hears the name.
But he moves back to the console and begins typing. “He is in the lower levels of the Stacks. It is a very dangerous area.” He looks me up and down. “Most Lagosi I’ve met aren’t much for fighting.”
I feel my fist tighten up. “I can handle myself.” I remember back to my days in the temple practicing Trae Fernys. The Eight Embers.
“If you need anything else, information-wise, I’ll be right here. Happy to help.” I rolled my eyes and walked out the door ready to find the Procurer.
Headed towards the center of the asteroid I pass by a bustling building with cheers accompanying the play by play of a fight.
I descend the overloaded central stairs until I reach level four. The smell from the stacks is hard to describe properly, like a mix of phase charges and desperation. I pass by the rows of habs looking at the suspicious faces, glaring through me.
When finally I see the Zorai that took the heart, I shout his name “Procurer!” The group that he’s with just looks at him to see what he does. “Give me the relic you stole!”
I make it about twenty feet away before he signals with his hand and a man approaches me clenching his fist.“You came to the wrong warren little Lagosi.” He takes a single swing at my face and I tilt to the side and slam my digitigrade foot into his chest.
He’s knocked cold onto the ground as the eyes all look at me surprised. “What the Vekk was that?”
I look back at them now bouncing on my toes, “Sera’Den, The Current’s Edge.” Without missing a beat, they pull out blasters, and I duck down the nearest alley.
I hear their footsteps clamber behind me as I turn down the first corner I come across. A flash of color as the swirling neon sign nearly shatters against my face. But I stop and duck myself just in time, feeling the tips of my ears rub across the bottom of the sign.
The sound of heavy footsteps stops with the sound of shattered glass and a loud groan. I let out a loud cackle as I turn and see two of them still chasing me. I turn my eyes back ahead of me and feel the smile spread across my face as I hear the man’s pained cries fading.
I turn the next corner and attempt to outmaneuver them. I spring on my feet and make it to the corrugated roofs of the shipping containers that the people here use as homes. Suddenly I feel a sharp pain slice across my shoulder, as a knife then sticks out of the wall ahead of me. I look at my shoulder and see the blood begin to slowly leak from the wound.
I run as quickly as I can out of sight and then lean back against a wall to examine my shoulder. I look at my clothes and see if there is anything I can make a bandage from.
Before I can rip a piece of cloth off I hear a voice from behind me. I turn and prepare to swing a fist. “Don’t hit me! I’m not with them.” I drop my guard and decide to just press my hand down over the wound.
“What do you want?” I ask the Zorai standing before me, she opens her arms to seem less threatening and I catch sight of the tattoo on her glide membrane. A Grav Attack glove crossed with a data spike.
“The name is Rallo, I just want to help you, and while I’m doing that you can help me out at the same time.”
I just look back at her. “How can you help me? What do you even know about me?” I see the corner of her mouth begin to curl into a smile.
“I know where the Procurer hangs out.” she waves for me to follow her. “It’s a particular bar that the Veil uses. You gotta be tough to get in, and from what I saw, you can handle yourself.”
I just remain sitting, staring at her and pressing down on the wound. “I don’t want to meet the Procurer, I want back what he stole.” I wave her off and turn away to continue trying to patch my shoulder.
Grabbing a pierce of my pant leg, near the bottom where the holes have naturally worn in, I rip off the entire piece around my foot. I take the dirty cloth and wrap it around the wound on my shoulder and tie it around my chest.
I hear the voice from behind me, she’s still there. “I know where he fences all his stuff. We can probably get whatever it is you’re looking for.”
She sounds like she knows what she’s talking about. I stand up and turn to look at her. “Fine. Show me this bar.”
We begin walking up the central stairs and arrive at the raucous bar. “This is it, let me talk to the doorman and I’ll get us in.”
She walks forward and I just listen to the alternating cheers and shouts for blood, emanating from the inside of the bar. I see the doorman look me up and down and then he waves us both through.
“Alright kid. This is the place, go ahead and take a look around, I gotta talk to some people. Get yourself a drink!” Before I can respond she fades into the crowd and I just proceed to walk through the bar trying to locate the Procurer.
The fight is happening in the center, between two oversized males that are wailing on each other. No finesse, no skill, just strength. As they trade blows, the larger one eventually lands a combination and his opponent is knocked to the floor. They count to five and a group of people come on and pull out his limp body.
“Who else here is brave enough to take on The Mountain!” The cheers die down to a near silence, only the large orclan in the center continues to shout, trying to display his strength and intimidate.
Suddenly I feel a pair of hands shove me forwards into the people ahead of me. Soon the two hands turn into an entire horde. They push me into the arena and I land on my hands and knees.
Loudly through the speakers the announcer says, “What’s this? A new challenger!” he comes over and whispers into my ear. “Whats your name?”
“Tasz, there's been a mistake. I don’t want to fight anybody.” I stand up and brush myself off.
“Tasz, the new challenger, versus The Mountain! Fight!” He throws a single hand down in a chop and runs out of the arena.
The cheers begin to rise up as the Mountain comes towards me readying his arm for a big hit.
Instead, I shift my feet on the ground and prepare myself. As he closes the distance I drive off my toes with all my strength and feel my knee connect to his jaw. Feeling the sickening crack as his teeth slam together.
He drops down to a single knee and shakes off the daze. I hear some people in the crowd urging me to beat him while he is recovering, instead I ready myself now with my fists. He plants both his hands on the ground and curls himself in a pounce before flinging himself full speed at me.
His massive shoulder slams into my stomach and I feel the wind get knocked out of me. I slam my fist down into his side and it feels like hitting a wall, the flesh doesn't yield. Instead he stops himself and I am flung backwards onto the floor, at the feet of the audience. I feel a kick to my back from a stranger, I roll away from the edge and flip myself on my feet.
The Mountain attempts the same move again but I use my legs and spring above him, so he lands on the ground, and I instead curl my legs up and attempt to dive down onto his back with my knee.
He rolls out of the way and kicks at my legs. I’m knocked off balance, but I swing my foot down and slam my heel into his skull. I flip myself onto my feet and resume my fighting stance, and I stare at the Mountain as he stumbles to get himself back up and shake the daze off.
I continue to wait for him to attack me again. He starts to stumble forward at me, and I just take one final swing at the side of his head with my foot. He continues to move forward but I watch as his center of balance seems to rise and he just flops forward like a blank of wood falling.
I hear the screams of anger in the crowd as he is counted out, amidst it all I watch as the Mountain is pulled out of the arena and I attempt to walk out as well. When I hear the announcer begin to speak again. “Who is next to take on Tasz?”
The crowd closes itself off around me and prevents my exit. I try to move to another spot and suddenly I feel two feet kick into my chest and I’m thrown backwards onto the worn smooth floor.
A sarthari steps forwards and performs a dramatic maneuver swinging wide with her feet, showing her flexibility. I flip myself back up and assume a defensive stance.
“Tasz, the Rabbit Kick versus Shadow Leaper! Fight!” I watch her as she begins doing lightning fast footwork dancing and dodging with the same ease. I just pivot myself to point at her, she swings her foot at my knee, I lift it and her kick goes into my shin instead.
She shifts her weight and raises the kick up to instead get at my chest, I pull my arms in close to soften the blow. Then she raises her leg again and aims at my head, I’m unable to block the maneuver as I feel her foot slam into my skull.
I’m knocked to the ground, vision blurred, I shake my head and my vision begins to coalesce as I see a foot swing at my face. I push off the ground and raise my head out of the trajectory of their swing.
As their leg extends through the power from the kick. I turn myself and take a low swing as their grounded foot. I use all my force and her leg shifts, I let gravity take over as she slams to the ground in a split. Her face now even with my chest I unleash a flurry of quick strikes to her skull.
When she raises her hands to stop the blows from raining down, I grab the back of her head and pull it towards my knee. I feel one of her arms go limp as she tries to resist the grab.
The roar of the crowd becomes so deafening, that I don’t hear anything beyond my own pulse pounding in my skull amid the screams for blood. After the third hit I release her from the grab and she falls back limply on the ground, blood dripping from her nose.
Then, as if something takes over her body, she raises herself back up and charges towards me with her claws out. Letting out a cry that nearly overwhelms the crowd before being drowned out again, she closes the distance and takes another three swings, this time trying to take a piece of me with her.
I pull myself away and try to redirect her swings so they go above or below, but then I feel a quick kick to my stomach. I double over and she strikes down with her claw across my face, leaving four evenly placed scratches that each bleed, the deep red visible beneath my light brown fur.
She attempts to kick me again but I backstep several paces, once I have enough room I charge at her instead. Jumping just before I reach her, she moves her arms to try and catch me as if out of instinct, I can’t help but feel the smile grow on my face. As her arms go wide and she tries to pivot herself to throw me to the ground in one move.
Instead of driving forward with my knee I wait for her to catch me, and using all the momentum I pull my fists up to my shoulders and slam my elbows down into the crown of her skull. The entire crowd goes silent enough when the blow lands that everyone feels the crack through their system.
Shadow Leaper just drops her arms and stumbles backwards before falling. The crowd lets out another collective groan, but the cheers begin rising. “Another fighter down! Tasz the Rabbit Kick wins again! Is there any other fighter who will take on our champion?”
I’m searching the faces in the crowd to see if I can spot the procurer. The announcer continues to speak, “Is there no one brave enough?”
Then suddenly I realize I’m bouncing on my toes, my hands are up, ready for the next fight. From the back of the room I hear a scattered series of screams, like another fight started elsewhere in the building.
But then the crowd separates and creates a tunnel between me and the canoi, who seems to be foaming at the mouth with rage, a man at his feet cowering. People scatter from the area with genuine fear, but then he seems to choke down his rage, he lifts the man up and dusts off his shirt, then begins to walk towards me.
I look around and the announcer has left, I stand alone in the makeshift arena as the canoi approaches with one hand extended. Confused by the difference between the reaction of the crowd and the behavior of this canoi, I exit my stance and extend my own hand out.
He grabs my hand and begins shaking it gently as he introduces himself. “They call me Mad Dog.” I loosen my grip and attempt to retract my hand, but he grips it tighter.
I try to pull the arm back but his arm doesn't move, he pulls his other arm out and reveals a glass bottle. Smashing it over my head and I feel the liquid contents splash over my face, the alcohol stinging my wounds.
The roar of the crowd picks itself back up as they get what they have waited for. Dazed from the shock, I feel my body get yanked forward by my hand, and then a hard kick to my knee. I flop forward, and feel the grip on my hand release, as my face slams into the ground with enough force that I feel my nose crack.
Then I feel a strike to my lower back, and I momentarily lose the feeling in my legs. Panic takes over, I roll with whatever strength I have in my torso away from the danger. I flip myself back up to my feet and look around, the alcohol still blurring my vision.
I take a moment to wipe it from my eyes, before I realize that blood is mixing not just with the alcohol, there is glass sticking out of my head. The microscopic fragments scrape into the back of my arm. Suddenly, I feel another strike to the side of my head. The uneven feel as it rolls down the side of my head before the glass shatters again.
I turn towards where the bottle was thrown and I see him standing there with another bottle in his hand. He hurls it directly at my skull again, but I turn my body and raise my arm up, catching the bottle.
I feel the crowd go silent, as if they're waiting to see what I do, the blood begins to blur my vision, the pulse pounding in my body surges the adrenaline. I feel a smile form itself on my face, then my body seems to move of its own accord.
I flip the bottle in my hand and grab it by its neck. Pulling my arm back behind me, I charge up to him, the glass beneath my feet digging into the leathery sole of my toes.
He uses his arms to block where I would swing the bottle from, instead I take my non-dominant hand and with all my force, slap it onto his ear. I watch as the sound causes him to drop his guard and with the rest of my momentum, I swing the bottle and slam the thick corner into his eye.
The bottle doesn't shatter, the crack was the sound of his bones breaking, the smile on my face grows wider. I swing it again at the side of his skull and it finally gives way, I watch as the shards fly everywhere and his body falls backwards. The screaming of the crowd echoing in my skull growing louder and louder.
I pounce on top of his limp body and unleash blow after blow into his head. As the fourth hit lands his eyes open up and I feel a foot kick into the back of my neck. My body flings forward, I use the momentum and curl my body up into a roll.
I land on my feet and flip back around to face Mad Dog, but I see no one, I spin myself around and try to locate them, then I feel the pang as a metal chair slams into my back.
The pain of it drops me to the ground as he raises the chair up again, his mouth foaming with a rabid fury that seeks blood. I swing my leg as hard as I can and kick into his knee but the joint doesn't shift, I kick down with my other foot and scoot myself across the arena.
He throws the chair at me, and I duck out of the way, as the chair slides into the crowd behind me. Mad Dog turns around and begins looking for another weapon he can use against me.
The cheers of the crowd grow louder, echoing though the emptiness, now filling the space between, replacing the training I had. Only one thought is left, end this.
I grab the chair behind me and charge towards him, pointing the legs at him, I slam my full force into him as his body slots right between the legs themselves. I continue to push through and slam the legs of the chair into the wall.
Once his body is pinned behind the legs, I slam my knuckles into his skull and continue to unleash the rage that I’ve been holding onto. He begins to smile as I pummel him, his face becoming a mass of bruise.
I feel his arm try to grab at me, I just brush it off and continue to rain down hits on him. Eventually his body goes limp and collapses onto the chair, which I finally stop leaning against. Both of them drop to the ground, the chair falling on top of him.
I finally release the anger that was pent up inside of me and begin screaming, I scream out the pain of losing my elder, the rage that I could do nothing. Then I realize the crowd has gone silent, all of them just staring at me.
I raise my fists up and look around at the audience, wondering which of them will attack me next. When the announcer comes through the speakers again, “Lets hear it for Rabbit Kick! The newcomer!” The crowd then erupts into applause, almost as deafening as the cries for blood.
I finally relax my stance, and the blood begins to cloud my vision again, I raise my arm to wipe it again, as the fingers swipe away the mix of blood, sweat, and alcohol.
Then I catch a glimpse of the procurer. “You!” I scream, and lunge at him.
He darts away with a look of total fear in his eyes. I charge after, slamming into any person that blocks my way. “What the vekk do you want?” He shouts behind himself as he runs with all his strength.
“I want what you stole from my village!” He turns down an alley just out of my sight. I run down the same alley and find no one.
I begin to scream again, the pulse pounding in my skull with no outlet for me to unleash it on.
Suddenly I hear a voice from behind me. “Hey Kid! You did some fantastic work back there!” Rallo emerges from the corner tossing a bright flashing credit tracker in her hand. She tosses it to me and I snatch it out of the air. “Your winnings from the fights.”
I drop the tracker and begin to walk towards her. “You are giving me money?” With each step the anger grows, like a bonfire, just waiting to engulf the entire forest.
“Hey, so I used you! I got debts of my own to worry about! It’s nothing personal.” She starts to back away as I step closer and closer. “Wait! I can still help you! You wanted to find someone, right?” I raise my fist up and I watch as she winces. “I’m sorry! The Procurer! I remember!”
I don't lower my fist as I speak, the words coming out like the bubbling of molten rock. “Where. Can. I. Find. Them.”
“Vekk kid… Look what I did to you… You got something fighting to get out of you… And I just fed it everything it wanted…” I level my fist at her face and stare at her. “He’s in the courier shop behind you.”
Her eyes take in the full sight of me, the deep red blood seeping from the various wounds on my head and face. “Look kid… for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for what happened.”
“I don't want your pity.” I drop my fist and turn around. My eyes take in the neon drenched alley, the lights reflecting off the puddles of condensation that drips from the oxygen generators mixing with the oil swirling around to distort the reflection, twisting it into its own corrupted version of reality.
As I walk away a gruff voice rises up. “You got Xan’Kirill’s money Rallo?” I walk out of sight before I can hear the rest of the conversation.
I open the door to the courier shop, and the scuffling of feet forces my guard back up. I shut out all the other noise and listen, underneath is the metallic click of a pistol readying its plasma charge.
“Just give me the heart! And I’ll walk away!” I shout into the room, hoping they dont take me up on the offer.
“Go vekk yourself! How about that?” I hear someone shout back. As a smile grows on my face, I hear footsteps coming towards the door.
I listen to the echoes until they are right behind the door. Then I slam into it with my full strength, I feel the door stop momentarily, and then it gives way to the momentum and he crashes into a stand. I jump on top of him and rain down blows on him.
As another guard circles around to try and create some space between us before he shoots. I wait for him to line up his shot and then spring myself up right as he releases the plasma bolt.
The shot goes right into the guard on the floor, I watch as he stops struggling and just goes limp. I turn and look at the one who just shot his friend, his face filled with something like regret. Taking advantage of his distraction I spring off my toes and slam my fists directly into his stomach.
He coughs out all of his air and doubles over, I press my advantage. Raining down blows on the back of his skull. His body goes limp and I continue to punch until his body hits the floor.
Then I turn around and proceed towards the back of the shop, finding a single locked door with a light peeking out from underneath. “Stay back!” I hear his voice shaking from behind the door. “I mean it!” I raise my foot up and aim it directly below the handle.
A single kick and the door flies open, I see the procurer surrounded by all his treasures, the sparkling of the gems and polished metals is almost blinding. Stunned by the scale of it, I manage to stutter out, “How many?”
He raises his head from behind a silver tray he’s using as a shield. “How many, what?” he says back to me, the tone in his voice sounds like he is considering a trade.
“How many?” I ask him again, the rage building back up in me. “How many planets have you destroyed?”
He begins shaking, I hear the tray pinging against the metal he’s surrounded by. “I… i don’t know what you mean.”
I grab the tray from his hands and rip it free. “Morv’Verda!” I scream as I drive my knee into his face.
“Akesh’Kael!” I shout as I slam an elbow onto his head.
I don't stop punching. I unleash blows on him as though he were my practice post. “Feyra’Ven!” He raises his arms up to stop the onslaught, I grab his hand and slam his elbow backwards into my forearm, hyper extending his arm.
He lets out a cry of pain. “Vekk! Take whatever you want! Please just don’t kill me!”
Suddenly I catch my reflection on the back of the serving tray, filled with blood lust, I’m becoming something else. I have become a weapon, I just feel everything drain out of me. Everything I trained to be has turned me into… this.
I look all over the room of treasures and finally spot the heart. A melding of rock and stone, I pull it down and look back at his pitiful body lying there, cradling his arm. I turn back around and leave the shop, heading straight to the docking bay.
Every sound causes my body to tense on its own, like the next sound will be a weapon coming at me. Once I purchase a ticket back, I sit and try to relax, each sound taking me out, and each twitch of a muscle revealing a pain I had not realized earlier.
I spend the trip back home picking glass out of my head and face, a young nurse named Zith, traveling on the transport to a nearby world offers to help. He gently picks each piece of glass out and offers to stitch up the wounds all over my face. I politely decline, scars remember, and I do not want to forget what I became.
Another look in the mirror and I see the large gashes starting to close themselves. When I finally land at my home, I step off the transport and the entire atmosphere is that of a celebration.
The children come running up to me, celebrating that I have returned. As I make my way back to the temple, the entourage grew until it was the entire village. As I approach the shrine, I feel the ground itself react positively.
As I place the heart down, I hear the crack of thunder outside, the rain has returned, showering the entire village with its cleansing waters. The village runs outside and begins to dance and celebrate, I join them, but I still feel empty.
I sit watching the celebration from a chair near the edge, the singing and dancing tries to coax my spirit back to the carefree person I used to be.
But then I feel a hand on my shoulder and I’m immediately transported back to Port Nyx, I grab the arm and yank it forward. I see a child attached to it and with the familiar twitch of my muscles I level my fist at her face.
Her face immediately changes to abject fear, as she starts to cry I just release her from my grip. My other hand is still squeezed into a fist, I stand up and walk away. The new elder stands up and joins me in my frantic pacing.
“Tasz, you are accepted here. You do not need to fear us.” his voice rings hollow against my ears.
“I can't stay here. How long before I hurt someone?” I rub the fist with my other hand, hoping that I can relax the hand enough to release its grip. “No. No, I don't belong here.”
“I understand, but we will always be here for you.” I pack up my bags and head back to the transport, the faces of all the villagers all look back at me with a resigned understanding. “Thank you Tasz! For everything!”
I step off the transport and I’m immediately back in the chaos of Port Nyx again, heading again toward Joric's shop. The gentle tinkling overhead reminds me of who I was before. But I don't see the familiar grey trunk introduce itself around the corner.
Instead, sat at a table in the center of the room is Joric and a woman with brown hair, her arm in a sling, a small vox recorder lay between him, its tape growing slightly with each rotation. “Oh, I’m sorry Joric. I’ll come back.”
“Nonsense” the woman stood up and immediately walked over to introduce herself. “I’m Lyra. an old friend of Joric’s. We were just finishing our conversation.” I see dried tears coating the lines of her face.
“I just had a question for Joric.” I look over at him, still frozen at the table. Lyra gently coughs and his focus comes to me. “Do you know of any Luminar Knights? I’m in need of some direction.”
