CHAPTER 4 – NO WAY OUT
"In essence, this is a densely-packed region of space, arrayed into a multi-dimensional holor, around which the local space-time continuum is folded to a nigh-infinite depth, making the general topography and surface area of the planetary body in question practically endless. To a limited extent, this reality-distortion field covers the entire star system, and local branches of SUHN-space.
To this day only two planets in the galaxy have ever been found out to possess such an exotic trait – Utopia Draconis, the fabled homeworld of the dragons, and Terra Para, a barren, hostile planet at the edge of the Sector.
Visiting such a world without meticulous preparation and extreme caution is perilous at best, and complete insanity at worst. One is best advised to seek safer astral regions to explore."
– Mumur Momor, "Paraworlds Explained", Datalinks
Present day, Terra Para, Ascendancy System
Ferrtau.
The man he had trusted with his life.
The man who had taken everything away from him.
His freedom. His vengeance. His comrades, what little had been left of them.
His love.
Airo felt rage bloom inside him, a forgotten ember which suddenly became a roaring fire. He remembered the vow he made on that night long ago, in another life. He remembered the pain of learning the truth, of having being lied to for years, and the man responsible for his anguish being the same he thought of as his one and only friend. The world around him shifted into focus. The veil of apathy and quiet despair lifted, and a single thought crystallized in his mind.
He was going to kill Ferrtau.
This single, incandescent idea galvanized him into action. He felt his limbs surge with strength. His lips curled into a snarl. Invigorated by a flaming desire for revenge, he started down the mountain slope resolutely, his hand clenching the katana's grip.
Ferrtau was alive. Here. On Terra Para.
And Airo was going to kill him.
He imagined a thousand ways he would do it. In his mind's eye, the crystal blade of his katana gleamed as it cut through his archenemy again and again in a haze of blood. He envisioned himself marching all the way through the mountains and beyond, to the other side of the planet, to the edge of the galaxy itself, confronting Ferrtau at the end, and mercilessly putting him to the sword. His rage boiled, a palpable heat inside him, his body shivering with bloodlust. He lifted his eyes, gazing vehemently at the enormous energy pillar in the distance. Impulsively, he imagined Ferrtau was there, at the base of this anomaly, waiting for him, goading him to come and make his challenge. Airo activated the fri-skis and swooped down the ridge, ignoring all danger and jostling the flexpack strapped to his back. He raced purposefully toward the horizon, eating the miles with blazing fury and reckless abandon.
This couldn't have lasted forever.
Gradually, the inferno inside him died. His wild imaginings subsided; his mind became rational again. He slowed down. Some time later, the fit of primal rage passed completely. He regained his composure, and examined his surroundings again with silent detachment, yet now his soul burned with a determined, singular purpose.
He was going to kill Ferrtau. No matter what.
An hour later, he finally stopped to gather his thoughts. His mouth tightened with resentment as he shifted the weight on his back. He tried to establish connection with the planetary network, yet there was no signal to be found. He frowned. Back in his day, every colony world had a rudimentary commsat coverage as a minimum. Was this planet uninhabited?
Doubtful. There were dragons here, or at least some hard-light apparitions resembling them, judging by the mysterious ambush. And the onboard computer had mentioned the presence of a society with a functional cosmodrome. In his mind, he replayed the events prior to the crash. Who wanted to send a dragon on this cold, barren rock? Did the creature wanted to come because it thought there were more of its kind here? Airo was at a loss; it was hard to come up with ideas when he was plunged head-first into the world after seven centuries of absence. Thinking about the so-called 'cargo' made him seethe. His mind focused on the flexpack he carried, and the cursed egg-spawn that was inside. He struggled with the temptation to simply leave the flexpack behind, and willed himself to ignore the hateful weight as he continued to come up with a plan what to do next.
In the end, the details didn't add up. He had been tasked with a falsified mission, and now his enigmatic benefactor who took him out from the freezer had set him against Ferrtau. Airo suspected there was a connection in-between. The dragon... she had said she remembered him. An amusingly impossible notion, since he had spent the better part of a millennium on ice. And in his old life, he had made sure any dragon he met to be the beast's last encounter.
Unless...
If Ferrtau was alive, then it was possible... No. That scenario was out of the question.
Airo needed more information. For now, he had only one lead: Ferrtau was here, somewhere on this planet. And he would have centuries of experience. He would be powerful, and probably have a mountain of resources and allies at his disposal. Despite his desire to personally take Ferrtau down, Airo realized he'd need all the help he could get if he wanted to exact revenge upon his nemesis.
And the first place to start was to find some civilization. He lifted his head, and looked again at the mesmerizing violet-white column on the horizon. For now, it was the only landmark markedly different from the somber snowscape which surrounded him.
Airo heaved himself to his feet, and set course toward the unknown anomaly.
He traveled the entire night, and most of the next day. At dusk on the following sundown, he was forced to stop. His body demanded food and water and sleep, shivering from fatigue. Airo reluctantly rested below a rocky overhang. He realized he had no supplies with him. He took out the virtualizer, browsing the device's catalog, and found there were various carbo-protein blocks stored inside. However, he couldn't get a reading on the quantities; the virtualizer had a weird control scheme, and he was still getting used to the hologram-haptic interface every contemporary device apparently had today.
He finally decided to ask the annoying onboard artificial intelligence for assistance. "Computer, how many supplies are available in the virtualizer?"
"Five-hundred kilograms, Commander," came the prompt, friendly-toned reply. "Calculated to last one baseline human individual for about a standard system year, per standard protocol. The supplies also come with a corresponding amount of drinking water, though due to SUNH-storage conditions, its harmonic resonance state is around three gradients below Consortium standard."
Airo selected several carbo-protein blocks, and rematerialized them, according to the virtualizer's lingo. His power armor had an universal slot for food processing, yet he retracted the helmet and began to eat manually. The blocks were mildly flavored in some unidentifiable way, but otherwise bland. While eating, Airo used the time to examine the virtualizer more thoroughly. The device was small and rectangular, looking somewhat like a flattened brick in plain silver color, one side covered by a purple-black veronite projection surface, used for rematerialization and accessing the HHI. Simple, yet elegant design.
She would have liked such a gadget.
He looked away from the virtualizer, memories suddenly assailing him.That last day... his gaze fell upon the dragon egg in the flexpack sitting across. He lost appetite. He disposed of the half-eaten food, and propped himself against the cold rocks, and tried to sleep, giving his tired body time to rest.