El'Anorath (First Draft)

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

         Heading south and slightly east, Nathalya, Wells, and DeVega skirted the shadowy edge of the woods as they made their way away from the city.  There was no distinct path, but the terrain was not altogether uncooperative.  Occasionally, they had to veer to the west or east into the woods in order to detour an impassable ledge or drop off, but finding their way along the borders of the forest was not difficult.

         They stopped under a short but fat tree when the sun was overhead and took their lunch.  Nothing fancy; some biscuits with meat and cheese, fruit, and water that had been given to them by Tavrill.  They sat with their backs against the tree, mostly quiet as they ate.  DeVega couldn't help but fall asleep in the warmth of the afternoon. 

         Wells looked back at the city, now a glinting beacon on the horizon.  She couldn't explain why, but she was almost sad now that she had left it behind.  It was, after all, a marvelous city with something for everyone.  The citizens were kind and high-spirited despite the war being waged.  She'd thought then that she had almost come to love the city, though it was a strange realization.

         Nathalya was enjoying the warm breeze on her cheeks that fluttered her hair that hung loose around her.  She ran her fingers through and marveled at how much it had grown in that short of time.  She thought about pulling it into a tail, but now that it was long enough, she kind of liked the way felt - free.  If her captivity had taught her anything, it was that freedom is something that should not be taken for granted, even if you are gifted with the powers of the Calari.

         Nathalya stood and roused the other two.  She couldn't wait to put more distance between the city and herself. They spent the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening walking along the forest before finally turning easterly in the direction DeVega decided Xera would be.  His guess would prove correct, and after another day in which they passed through the forest and across a brush covered, rocky outcropping, they came to Xera.

         They walked over the field and were approached before they could draw closer.  When their identities had been verified, they were allowed to enter, but were escorted by several guards to an interrogation chamber.  Once inside, they were met by a man who introduced himself as Forward General Markus Fallon.  He was a large man, fit, and had an unrivaled air of professionalism about him.

         General Fallon questioned them time and time again about what happened while they were away.  He seemed upset when DeVega recounted the cease-fire, but was very pleased that Wells' sense of camaraderie pushed her into a daring rescue for her fellow soldier in arms.

         "That was damn good work," he said.  "What of this 'Errol' that betrayed the Corrinites?  Where is he?"

         "We said our farewells just outside the city," replied Nathalya, then changed the subject.  "Sir, When can we meet up with the rest of Juliette?"

         At this question, DeVega and Wells looked down at the table and the General sighed.

         "Juliette's losses were devastating this time around," said the General.  "Those that weren't killed or retreated were taken prisoner.  We suspect they've put most of them to work around the mines that have recently been popping up all over the Hollin mountains.  Even in the past two weeks, there have been at least four new mines opened up.  Those Corrinites are up to something."

         "I know what they're up to," said Nathalya.  The General rose his eyebrows and motioned for her to 'go on'.  "They're looking for Orion."

         "Orion? Who is Orion?"

         "Not who," replied Nathalya. "But what; Orion is the name of the master titan built by Kel'Anor to aid in the reconstruction of entire planets.  Lord Tesson of the Corrinites thinks that Orion or some great clue is buried in the mountains.  If he finds it, there won't be anything that stands in his way, not even the Alliance."

         Nathalya went on to explain all she knew about the master titan and Lord Tesson's plan.  The General stopped her when she said that Lord Tesson mentioned he needed Nathalya to fully awaken the titan.

         "If what you say is true, then we have to get you far away from this planet," he said.  "Far from Lord Tesson."

         "No," replied Nathalya.  "These men are beyond anything the Alliance has dealt with in the past.  They are dangerous.  It is risky, but I may be your best chance against them, though I fear they're beyond me as well.  Lord Tesson would just end up using one of his own if he thinks I'm out of reach.  Then, all hope would be lost."

         "You must stay close to him, but not too close, then.  So what is to be done?" asked the General.  He was sitting down now, and took a sip of the water sitting in front of him. Nathalya looked at DeVega, then at Wells.

         "They're my people," she said.  "It is my fault that the Juliette camps were destroyed; I feel it is my responsibility to free them and stop Lord Tesson from ever activating the titan."

         The general sat back in his chair and considered for a moment.

         "You know," he said at length.  "I think you may need to go talk to one of my scientists.  His name is Toomes. He has been yacking my ear off about some titan and Alliance conspiracy."

         Suddenly, and in vivid memory, Nathalya remembered the blood-stained envelope given to her by the dying scientist after their transport had been attacked.  It seemed like ages ago to her.  She felt a great curiosity well up inside of her.

         "I wouldn't have believed you," said the General.  "If Toomes hadn't told me personally what he knows.  Why don't you go talk with him, you might want to hear what he has to say, and I'm sure he'll be fascinated by you."

         Nathalya nodded and stood to leave the room with her companions.

         "Oh," came the General's voice.  Nathalya stopped.  "When you decide to make a move, whatever you decide to do, take anything you need, Ghost Agent.  I'm also going to have my deep strike team assigned to you - you may need their help.  You'll be operating in the dark out there, our western communications are not online."

         Nathalya saluted the General, smiling.  Finally, she thought - she would be able to put her title to the test.

         Nathalya and her two friends were dismissed and left the interrogation room without hesitation.  Walking out into the busy lanes of Xera, they found the sun in it's descent.  The air was cooling, and a steady breeze pushed the scent of petroleum and oil into their faces.

         From the billeting office, Nathalya and Wells had been given a very large suite normally reserved for high ranking officials - a consolation prize from their recent hardships.  DeVega had been given a small trailer much like the one Nathalya and Wells had had the last time they were here.

         Once Nathalya had dropped her belongings in the room, she left Wells in order to find the scientist named Toomes. She walked a good deal around the base - even pausing for a moment to admire another war machine demonstration - before she came to a large eggshell white building.  She walked up the front steps and pushed open a large, heavy glass door.

         The guard behind the administration desk gave her directions for locating Toomes.  She eventually found him on the fifth floor, his eyes pressed against a microscope.  She knocked on the glass window between them to catch his attention.  He stood slowly and looked at her, then picked a pair of glasses off of the counter-top and set them on his nose.  He pointed to a doorway and Nathalya walked inside.

         "Can I help you?" asked Toomes.  He was a middle-aged man.  Nathalya figured he was probably as old or slightly younger than her father.  He had a dusting of a beard and slightly unkempt, short brown hair.  His voice was kind but purposeful. 

         "My name is Nathalya Harms, I'm a Ghost Agent with the Alliance."

         "A pleasure to make your acquaintance.  What can I do for you?" he asked again.

         "A couple of weeks ago you received an envelope with your name on it, handwritten on the front."

         "I get a lot of mail here, ma'am.  I'm the head of research and of the archeology department," replied Toomes.

         "You probably don't get many that are covered in blood..," Nathalya specified.

         "Oh my," sighed Toomes.  "You mean that one."

         "I'm the one your colleague gave the letter to before he died.  Can you tell me what was in it?"

         "No," replied the scientist, looking down. Nathalya was about ask why when he said, "I'll show you."

         He then walked over to a filing drawer and pulled it open.  After a minute of searching, he produced a piece of letter paper with a hand written message.  He held it out and Nathalya took it carefully.

         "I've kept the contents a secret, until now.  I tried telling General Fallon, who I've known all of my life and trust dearly, but he wouldn't listen."

         The paper was stained with rust colored splotches, but the writing was, for the most part, legible.  This is what it said;

         

Alistair Toomes,

         I am pleased that you have decided to take an interest in my work.  You cannot possibly guess how glad I was when you offered me a position on your fine team of unrivaled professionals.  It would have been a highlight of my short life.  I would have shared much about life on El'Anorath.

         Unfortunately, if you are reading this, then my assumption was correct.  Though it frightens me to think of such things, I believe there will be an assassination attempt on my life. Not all of the Alliance is wholly incorruptible, and information may be bought and sold, even between enemies.  I'm sure by now that the Corrinites have heard about my return to El'Anorath and will not want the information I have to fall into the wrong hands.  I was born a Corrinite, but my love of science far outgrew my patriotism.  I just hope this letter reaches you unscathed and legible.

         I will cut to the chase:  I heard tell of the Alliance's hidden agenda;  Project 'Falling Star'.  The Alliance is seeking the master titan, and looks to beat the Corrinites to the finish line.  There is no doubt in my mind that they have your team attempting to locate Orion.  No doubt the Alliance will use the Corrinites; once they reveal the location, the Alliance will swoop in like a bird of prey and take it from them by force.

         But they'll be waiting for a long time.  The Corrinites will surely look first to the Hollin mountains; they'd be wrong to do so.  In my own search for ancient artifacts from past inhabitants of El'Anorath, I found a clue.  It wasn't for several years - after the stalkers drove us out of the area and claimed those lands for their own - that I connected the clue to the master titan and it's whereabouts. 

         Don't look to the mountains.  Look to the stalker lands to the west, beyond the Tarrin woodlands and the plains of Agaelnor.  You must hurry though, It won't take long for the Corrinites to discover they are looking in the wrong place once they start digging. 

         I wish I could explain everything.  Perhaps if I am wrong I will be able to go over every detail in person, but then, you wouldn't be reading this I suppose.  Dear me, planning for one's own death is a most depressing endeavor.  Oh well, better to be prepared and not needing than unprepared and...dead.  I guess it seems I was right.  Farewell. 

                                                                               Signed,

                                                                               Fredrick Aeger

         Nathalya read the letter twice over, then handed it back to Toomes.  She stood quite for a few moments and let the information set in.  Toomes watched her with an odd curiosity. Finally, he spoke.  "Well, what do you think?  You clearly have some kind of a connection to all of this."

         "I do," replied Nathalya.  "My mother was one of the Calari, the daughter of Kel'Anor."

         "That makes you his..."

         "Grand-daughter," said Nathalya.  Toomes looked at her with new wonder and respect.

         "I knew of the existence of Calari children, but I never expected to meet a descendant of Kel'Anor himself! Forgive me if I seem excited, but this is incredible."

         "I have to get to the titan before the Corrinites or the Alliance.  I have to figure out how to destroy it."

         "Wait, you want to destroy it?" asked Toomes. "Such a marvelous creation as the master titan?"

         "The Corrinites and the Alliance would want to control the titan out of greed and glory, It would lead to the downfall of this planet, just like what happened on Erath.  Mankind is not meant to have access to such power.  Kel'Anor made a grave mistake when he thought he could trust us with the titans on Erath."

         The scientist thought for a moment.  Then nodded.

         "Very well," he said.  "I'll come with you, though I can't believe I'm saying it.  If I can't study the master titan, I at least want to get up close and personal with it for a time...and maybe get some three dimensional x-rays of it."

         "I have some other preparations to make," said Nathalya.  "I'll send word before it's time.  Pack lightly and don't tell anyone where you're going."

         Nathalya left the tall building and made her way back to the room where she found Wells and DeVega talking together. They stopped and looked at her expectantly.  Nathalya had a feeling that she had just interrupted something, but paid little mind to it.

         "I wouldn't unpack completely," she announced.

         "What did you find out?" asked DeVega.

         "The titan isn't in the Hollin mountains," replied Nathalya.  "We're going to find it before the Corrinites or the Alliance and destroy it.  We'll be going west, so pack your anti-stalker weapons."

         "West? What is west?" asked Wells.

         "The stalker lands, beyond the plains of Agaelnor," replied DeVega.  "It's a terrible place; sulfur vents, flowing rivers of lava, and giant crevasses into unknown depths.  I haven't personally been there, but I've seen pictures and read reports."

         "Also, I found Toomes," said Nathalya. "He's working on the true location of the titan as well as a way to destroy it.  He'll be coming with us."

         "What? We can't be responsible for a scientist," DeVega complained.  "He'll be nothing but a liability."

         "We have to keep him safe, he might be the best chance we've got," replied Nathalya.

         "What about our men taken captive and working the mines?" asked DeVega.  "If the Corrinites realize their digging in the wrong spot, they might lesson the mouths to feed to correct their mistake."

         Nathalya hadn't been prepared to answer this question.  DeVega was right, of course, but the conflict now presented itself clearly to Nathalya.  Do I try to rescue the captives and then find the titan, hoping that Lord Tesson doesn't figure it out?  She thought.  Or do I condemn the captives and go straight for the titan?  It's my fault they were taken, It would only be correct of me to set it right, but that might cause the death of thousands if I don't reach the titan in time...

         Her mind raced for a time.  DeVega could see she was thinking hard, he tried to ease her mind.

         "Whatever you decide, It'll be the right choice," he said.  "But if I might suggest something, it may ease your decision;  I'm going after our men.  You blame yourself for their capture, but you shouldn't.  That leaves you free to look for the titan to the west."

         Nathalya thought this over for a time.  It seemed to her to be the best course of action and was glad the Sergeant could think clearly, unlike herself at the moment.

         "No, we can't split up," Wells protested. "Not after all we've been through together, already."

         "I don't wish it any more than you do, Wells," replied DeVega.  "But I think it gives us the best chance for success on both accounts."

         "I'm staying with Nathalya this time, then," she said.

         "That's fine," replied DeVega.  "I wouldn't expect any different."

         Nathalya took the rest of the day and long into the night to make her mind up.  She slept on her decision and when she awoke the next morning feeling the same way, she knew it was right.  She showered and dressed in clean clothes before sitting herself down on the maroon couch with a mug of hot coffee.

         Rain pattered outside and ran in streams down the large, sliding glass doors that led to the back patio.  Presently, Wells came out of the bedroom and sat beside Nathalya in short, pink and white, sleeping shorts and an overly large white tee shirt.  She took a pillow and set it in Nathalya's lap, then lay her head upon it.

         They stayed there together for some time in peace, listening to the rhythm of the rain drops outside.  Just as they felt themselves drifting off to what would have been a very comfortable sleep, there was a light knock on the front door.  Wells groaned as Nathalya slid out from under her and walked to the door. She returned a few moments later holding a piece of folded paper.

         "Who was it?" asked Wells with a yawn.

         "Nobody, just a messenger.  Apparently the deep strike team General Fallon mentioned wants to meet with me."

         "When?"

         "In about an hour.  Get dressed and we'll go together."

         Wells and Nathalya ate a quick breakfast at the mess hall - feeling slightly out of place amid the sea of camouflaged soldiers.  They had not yet gotten new uniforms to replace the ones they had lost. 

         "We have had such bad luck with our uniforms," remarked Wells as they ate.  When they finished, they made their way to the hanger specified in the note.  The rain had slowed considerably and the sun began to peek through the gray clouds.  They walked carefully along the flight line amid taxiing aircraft until they came to a hanger marked 428G.

         Inside, sitting around a long wooden table, were four soldiers in black and gray camouflage.  The Sergeant of the group stood and greeted Nathalya.  Wells stood silently behind her.

         "Agent Harms," he said.  "I'm Sergeant First Class Ralphael, and these fine soldiers behind me are Strike Team Echo."

         They took turns introducing themselves.

         "Heavy Munitions Operator Falson," said the first.  He was a very large and bulldog-like man with several tattoos.

         "Sergeant Haliday, light assault," said a man with a slim frame and short black hair.

         The third stood up; she had lightly tanned skin and fiery red, shoulder length hair. "Marksman, First Degree, Allison Shepard," she said.  Nathalya noted the confidence in her voice and unwavering eye contact behind heavy black eye-shadow.

         Nathalya greeted each in turn and then returned her attention to Sergeant Ralphael.

         "Are you related to Colonel Darius Ralphael by chance?" she asked.

         "He's my father.  He's told me a little bit about you, Agent Harms.  It's an honor to work with you."

         "The honor is mine," replied Nathalya. "Your father is a good man.  I wouldn't be where I am today without his guidance.  Anyway, was there something you needed from me?"

         "General Fallon told me to have my team report to you from here on out.  He was vague with his details," said Ralphael.  "We were hoping you could fill us in on what exactly we'll be doing?"

         "Heading west, into stalker territory," said Nathalya.  At this, the four squad members eyes opened widely in surprise and anticipation.

         "The General said something about a rescue?"

         "That plan has changed.  The new plan is as such;" she said, and began her tale once again from the start.  The team listened as she told them of the master titan and its power.

         "Alistair Toomes will accompany us westward until we locate where Kel'Anor has hidden the titan.  Your job, and mine, will be to escort him to the titan until he finds a way to destroy it.  He has his research team working up some theories, but he won't know for sure until he sees it himself.  We need to destroy the titan without drawing the attention of the Corrinites away from their current, and incorrect, dig site.  Simple enough?" she asked at last.

         The squad looked at her with blank stares. H.M.O. Falson spoke up.  "So you want us to traipse through stalker infested wastelands while keeping some dead-weight scientist alive until he can test a bunch of theories?"

         "Yes, that sums it up nicely," replied Nathalya.  "Anything to add, Technical Wells?"

         Wells thought for a moment.  "Oh," she said,  "And we'll be walking.  driving will kick up too much dust and flying over Corrinite airspace didn't work out the last time Agent Harms and I tried it."

         "Sounds good to me," replied Falson, shrugging.

         "When are we heading out?" asked Shepard, the corner of her mouth curling into a slight smile.

         "Not for a few days," answered Nathalya. "Wells and I have a few things to handle between now and then, but I will be sure to give you plenty of notice.  In the meantime, supply up for stalker encounters as well as normal combat."

         "Give us a call if you need any help," offered Ralphael.  The others nodded in agreement. 

         Nathalya and Wells left them to their vices and walked back across the flight line.  The sun was now warming the ground and a slight fog hovered over the drying asphalt. 

         "Well, now what?" asked Wells as they crossed into the main road. 

         "I think we ought to order our own supplies," replied Nathalya.  "And finally get ourselves into some new uniforms."

         They left the armory after ordering a healthy amount of supplies and several sets of uniforms.  The clerk in the sweat-stained tank top told them that they could pick everything up after two days, as supplies were running low and needed to be re-ordered.  Until then, they were forced to wear the same clothes, washing them once a night while they wore what Wells had brought for pajamas, which was often slightly too short for Nathalya.

         The following days dragged on and Nathalya grew increasingly restless, and so she sent messages to the strike team as well as to Alistair Toomes to finalize their preparations and be ready to mobilize on the morning of the next day.  Just before the afternoon of the night prior to their start, there came a knock on the front door.  Nathalya's wrist was scanned and the crates of supplies they had ordered were brought in.

         Nathalya had chosen the equipment quite well and thought they would be ready for just about any situation that could arise while venturing west.  She felt even better when she opened their replacement uniforms.  The Alliance was phasing out their old green and black camouflage pattern and, from her understanding, Nathalya had ordered some of the first pairs of the new make.

         The pants and blouse were much sleeker and had black-and-gray tiger-striped patterns.  There were less pockets - many of the lesser used ones had been removed, and Nathalya was pleased to find that instead of having to button the front, the blouse could now be zipped up in the front and a single button fastened to hold the collar closed.  She also noted that the female uniform now had a short cape in the back that attached to the back of the sleeves, but still allowed full range of motion.

         She separated the uniforms into a pile for herself and for Wells.  When Wells came yawning out of the back bedroom, Nathalya tossed her a pack with a smile.  Wells made a face and then helped with the packing.  There was an abundance of provisions to be divided between them, as well as ammunition, rope, flint, sleeping bags and pads, night vision optics, range finders, and several other instruments Nathalya felt would be useful. 

         When all of the gear was split between the two and packed along with their spare uniforms and cloaks, Nathalya and Wells collapsed side-by-side on the couch.  Nathalya pulled the flask from her pocket and took a quick sip, then offered some to Wells, who shook her head.

         "Want to get something to eat?" asked Wells, feeling her stomach rumbling after they had relaxed for a bit. Nathalya stood up and stretched.

         "I suppose it would do us good to get out," she said.  "We've been cooped up in here for the last few days sitting on our happy asses."

         "It's been nice, though," replied Wells.

         Nathalya and Wells scanned their wrists at the mess hall and chose a table near the back of the room to eat.  It was late afternoon and the warm sunlight poured through the window next to them.  Nathalya looked down at her pale skin, noticing it was much lighter than she was used to.  She looked up at Wells, and saw something different about her.  It wasn't physical.  To Nathalya, it looked like Wells had become much more confident after her trials so far on El'Anorath. 

         It was a testament to their friendship, she thought.  She was the same person she had grown up with, only now, the air of confidence around her made it seem to Nathalya that they had almost switched roles.  As if Nathalya had become uncertain and afraid and Wells had become a fierce warrior.  If she had to journey further into danger, she was glad it was with Wells.