The Last Spartan 1: Different Paths Page 17

  As they stepped up to the counter, Talia rang the bell.

  Moving quietly for someone his size, Ishmael stepped out from the back room to stand behind the sarcophagus and studied his two customers.

  Few things in life seemed to catch Iaido off guard. Maybe it was his training but when the lizard-like Lemurian stepped out, Iaido’s first instinct was to draw his blade. Reining in his combat urges, Iaido studied the storekeeper.

  At first glance it was obvious that somewhere far back on the evolutionary ladder the Lemurians were related to crocodiles or alligators of ancient earth. Imagine an alligator’s rear legs elongated enough to allow the reptile to stand erect at nearly seven foot; while the front legs lengthened enough to use as arms. Both hands and feet sported three inch long claws, yet the dexterity of the race could not be discounted. This Lemurian’s hide was a reddish-brown with a black crest running the length of his back. His eyes were slightly elevated like those of a crocodile’s and when he blinked, a second eyelid closed sideways proving that his ancestors spent many hours underwater. His left eye was cloudy and judging from an old scar that ran the length of his snout, Ishmael had seen the horrors of war up close and personal. He was dressed in a simple dark brown robe and calmly watched his two customers.

  After several minutes, Iaido placed both hands together and bowed but never took his eyes off of the Lemurian. “I am Iaido Spartan.”

  “Greetingzz earthling… they call me Izzhmael.” His voice was dry and whispery. His long tongue, like that of a snake, flickered in and out as he talked.

  Iaido pulled out the scroll. “My master asked me to bring you this.”

  Ishmael gently took the offered object and bowed his head. “I izz zzorry for your lozzzz.”

  Iaido cocked his head slightly. “How can you know of the Sensei’s death?”

  Ishmael slowly unrolled the scroll and scanned the document. “There izz much I know and much I do not know but if you have this zzcroll then Kenzzai izz dead.”

  The hissing on certain words threw Iaido for a moment. His long snake-like tongue which flicked in and out when he talked was also distracting but it was the reference to his master as Kensai or sword-saint which caught him off guard. Before he could ask more, the Lemurian rerolled the scroll and passed it back to him.

  “Thizz izz for you. It izz hizz lazzt will and tezztement.”

  Iaido unrolled the scroll and scanned it. Ishmael was right; it was his master’s will. “Then why was I instructed to bring it to you?”

  The Lemurian reached down and pulled open the sarcophagus. Talia and Iaido could hear the clanking of items being moved around before Ishmael pulled out a bundle of black cloth. Closing the lid, Ishmael set down the bundle and stepped back. “Thizz izz for you. It izz to be your legacy.”

  Curious and confused, Iaido reached out. The moment his hand touched the bundle, his heart skipped a beat. Could it be? As the black wrapping fell away and the light fell across the ancient blade, Iaido couldn’t help but gasp at the sight. “Do you know what this is?”

  “Yezz. It izz the Zzword of the Elementzz, uzzed by the firzzt Kenzzai to bring harmony to hizz land.”

  Talia shook her head, “I don’t understand.”

  Still gazing at the ancient blade, Iaido spoke in a faraway voice.

  “Miyamato Mushasi was known as the first Kensai. Legends state that as his skills grew, Mushasi had a vision concerning the perfect weapons. He travelled the length of Japan until he found the master swordsmith Hatori Honzo living in a cave as a hermit. There is no record at how Mushasi convinced Honzo to accompany him but one winter’s eve they climbed the slopes of Mount Fuji and with the help of the gods forged the Twin Blades of Heaven.”

  Lifting the ancient katana, Iaido slid the blade free of its scabbard and the light reflected off its polished surface. Even slightly mesmerized by the balance of the superb weapon, he continued his explanation. “This sword is known as the Blade of the Elements. It was crafted to embody the four elements of nature; fire, water, earth and air. Its sister sword was known as the Blade of Void. Together the swords encompass the five elements of the Ancients and when used together it is said that the wielder was invincible.”

  Talia asked, “Is that true?”

  Iaido shrugged but it was Ishmael who answered.

  “I too uzzed to walk the path of the blade and my journeyzz brought me into conflict with the wielder of the Bladezz of Heaven.” Ishmael pointed at his scar. “I wazz not the victor but my life wazz zzpared by the Kenzzai. My cup wazz full but in defeat I learned to empty it.”

  Talia was more confused after the Lemurian’s explanation than before. Her best interpretation was that Ishmael and Iaido’s master had fought a duel in which the lizardman lost but was spared by the Sensei and somehow had become friends. She had no idea what he meant by the Lemurian’s reference to a cup but before she could ask anything more, Ishmael opened the sarcophagus and pulled forth a harness of black leather attached to a circular device with two holes in it.

  “Thizz arrived with the zzword,” hissed Ishmael.

  “Domo,” said Iaido as he took the offered bandolier. Removing his trench coat, Iaido slipped out of his current weapon harness which was designed to hold his katana upright and almost directly behind his head. Removing his battleworn scabbard from his old harness, he placed it in one of the holes on the circular device, the Blade of the Elements in the other and slid the harness on; both hilts now rested just over his shoulders and within easy reach.

  Ishmael bowed low and hissed something in his native language before adding in English, “Fear not Iaido-zzan, we zzhall meet again.”

  Iaido nodded his head, picked up his trench coat and with a nod of his head signaled to Talia that it was time for them to leave.

  Once they were back in the thoroughfare Talia asked, “Where to now?”

  “Nick’s Place, I need to see a man about a horse.”

  Talia had no idea what he meant but just shrugged her shoulders and followed along. One thing for certain, it had been an interesting day but she also realized that it had been one of the most exciting times of her life…so far.

  Chapter 19

  Nick’s Place was the busiest bar on Haven and that made the owner happy.

  Nicholas Angelini, Nick to his customers, was from an old Italian family of good character and with his family connections, he didn’t have to serve in the military during the war. While all his friends were off fighting for the good of the Coalition, Nick was having fun, chasing women, racing cars and doing the latest recreational drugs. Life was good or so he thought. Until the day Nick went to see his doctor about a stomach problem and was diagnosed with cancer. After extensive tests and treatments, it was decided that even with the advancements in medicine of the twenty-second century it was still an inoperable tumor. The doctors gave Nick six months to live.

  That was three years ago. After a week-long drinking binge, Nick sobered up and decided to make a change. He left his family and friends behind and began to wander the galaxy. Eventually, his travels brought him to Haven and with the roll of the dice, Nick won the bar.

  It was a dive back then but with some hard work, Nick had found a home and his calling. The bar was especially crowded since several transports had come through earlier in the day carrying settlers and prospectors to the outer regions. Of course, the normal clientele of mercenaries and thieves packed the place. As Talia and Iaido entered the bar, the whole room fell silent. Moments later the low murmur of whispered voices filled the air.

  Iaido leaned over to Talia. “I guess the word is out about us.” Gesturing for her to stay where she was, he moved to the center of the bar, planted his feet shoulder wide and rolled his shoulders around to loosen them up. “All right, anyone here foolish enough to try and claim the bounty?”

  “I am.” A young man stepped out of the crowd. He stood just under six feet and probably weighed close to three hundred pounds. Judging from his ragged camos and weapon ri
g, Iaido guessed that he was an ex-soldier who had fallen on hard times and turned to mercenary work.

  With lightning speed, Iaido pulled out his Graver Mk7 with his left hand and fired one round.

  The blast took off the young merc’s head before his hand had even touched the grip of his own weapon. Keeping his weapon raised, Iaido slowly turned around and took in the whole of the bar while the thud of the young merc’s body hitting the floor filled the silent room.

  “Anyone else?” asked Iaido. “Either step up or go back to your drinks.”

  Not seeing anyone foolish enough to take the challenge, Iaido holstered his weapon with a spin and moved to the bar. “Sorry about the mess, Nick.”

  Nick shrugged his shoulders and continued to wipe off an already clean mug. “Not a problem, Mr. Spartan. Not the first one to die in here; doubt it will be the last.” He glanced at the body which was being picked clean by his friends and added, “At least you didn’t break any furniture. There will be a small surcharge on your bill for the body disposal.”

  “Not a problem Nick. Add a ten percent tip on it for the trouble it caused and send three beers over to my table.”

  “Will do Mr. Spartan.”

  Talia was furious but quietly followed the bounty hunter to a corner table that was miraculously empty by the time they reached it. As soon as they sat down, Talia unleashed her fury.

  “How dare you kill so blatantly? That is the second time I have seen you kill without hesitation. Does life hold so little regard to you that you can just take it on a whim?”

  Iaido took a huge gulp of his beer while his eyes continued to scan the crowd. After a moment he answered in a low voice. “It wasn’t a whim and as unfortunate at it seems, his death was necessary.”

  Her fury unabated she asked, “How can you say that!!?”

  “A mob is like a fire. Once started, it is hard to put out but even a fire needs a spark. The leader or spokesperson is the one that starts the mob moving forward. By killing that young braggart before he got the crowd riled up, I stopped the mob from forming, which in turn stopped me from having to kill anyone else.”

  A broad-shouldered man with a friendly round face stepped up to the table. “And there would’ve been more trouble. The word is out. You could make someone a very rich man. Your bounty has been raised to one and a quarter million credits, dead or alive.”

  “Hello DJ.” Iaido lifted the second mug of beer and held it out.

  DJ took the offered beer and slid into the booth across from the bounty hunter. “I get the impression that the emphasis was on dead.”

  “Any leads on who’s paying the bounty?”

  “Nope.” DJ took a long swig on his beer. “Just that your right hand is the required proof for payment.” Setting down his beer, DJ offered his own hand to the beautiful Sylvan. “Pardon my manners ma’am, Staff Sgt. Scott DeJarnette - UNCF Strike Forces. Retired of course but my friends just call me DJ.”

  Taking the offered hand, Talia let her mystical powers momentarily flow through her connection and into the newcomer. Physically, she felt the roughness of a working man’s grip, while mystically she felt a gentle soul who has seen and done evil in his life but one that was always striving for the greater good. Recalling her powers, Talia graced him with a dazzling smile. “I take it that you two are friends?”

  Still scanning the crowd Iaido said, “We served together.”

  “You were in Omega?”

  DJ shook his head. “No. Although we fought on many a battlefield together and assisted Omega on several missions, I was referring to the time we served together in New Leavenworth.”

  “Time? How can you serve time?”

  Although slightly annoying at times, Iaido was getting used to explaining the complexities and nuances of the human language to the Sylvan. It brought back memories of his early years. Fresh from the pod, the SPARTANs were fully capable and deadly soldiers but completely naïve when interacting with regular troops. If people like Master Chief Kirk and Sgt. Major Spenton hadn’t been patient in explaining humor, sarcasm and analogies he was certain that he would still be friendless.

  “It’s a Terran phrase for being incarcerated.”

  Talia turned back to Iaido. “New Leavenworth? You mentioned that place once before while we were back on Terra. What is it?”

  It was DJ which answered. “Hard time. It’s a military prison on Eris. We worked twelve hour shifts making big rocks into little rocks then moving them from point A to point B.”

  “And you both were imprisoned in this place?”

  DJ nodded. “Yep.”

  “What for?”

  DJ shrugged. “I was originally charged with murder of my commanding officer.”

  Talia sat back and shifted her head slightly.

  DJ waved his hands. “It’s not what you think. Did I kill my commanding officer? Yes. Was it justified? Yes. My unit was in combat on this little mudball of a planet. Our orders were to hold our position. When the Confederates attacked, our commanding officer dropped his weapon and ran. Since he was the only person with a radio capable of reaching Fleet, I shot him.”

  “And you were found guilty?”

  DJ shook his head. “No. I was cleared by a military tribunal but unfortunately, the officer was the son of a Council member, so I was dishonorably discharged for failure to obey orders and sentenced to two years in new Levenworth.”

  Talia turned her attention on Iaido. “And you?”

  “You want the charges or the truth?”

  “The truth of course.”

  Setting down his beer, Iaido turned slightly to look Talia in her eyes. “After we were rescued, the General needed someone to blame for the debacle on Gilese. Since I was the last SPARTAN and the only surviving Myrmidon, I became the scapegoat. During the court martial, as they began to call off the names of all my brothers who died defending the pass, I lost my temper and attacked the General. Luckily, I only scarred him instead of killing him. However, since the court martial was being broadcast over the Galactic news-link my sentence was swift.”

  DJ’s laughter burst forth as he slapped the table nearly spilling his beer. “That was the greatest thing I had ever seen! The whole yard went nuts. We were on lockdown for a week after that incident.”

  “What does lockdown mean?” asked Talia.

  “Our privileges were curtailed for a week; other than mandatory labor, we were locked in our cells for the entire week, no exercise, no mail, no news, no vids, nothing.” DJ took another long swig of his beer and set down his empty mug. “Don’t you Sylvan’s have prisons?”

  Talia shook her head. “No. I have never even heard of the concept of locking a person up for committing a crime. It’s barbaric. How can placing criminals together for a period of time help the individual?”

  Iaido asked, “What do your people do to criminals?”

  “We only have three punishments on Sylvanis; restitution, expulsion or re-education.”

  “I understand the concept of restitution, paying someone back for an item and expulsion, being kicked out. This is the second time you have mentioned re-education, what exactly do you mean by it?” asked Iaido.

  Sipping her beer for the first time, Talia grimaced at the bitter flavor. “Yuck! How horrible!”

  Eying his empty mug, DJ reached over and pulled Talia’s full one to himself. “It’s an acquired taste.”

  “Obviously,” Talia pulled out her tarot cards and began to idly fiddle with them. “The whole process of re-education is a closely guarded secret but basically the Empire wipes the mind clear of all memories, implants new lawful ones and reintroduces the citizen to society.”

  Iaido said, “And you think locking criminals up is barbaric! Our way might not be perfect but after the offender serves his or her time, they are let out. Once again free to make choices, right or wrong it’s their choice to make. Your way takes away their personality, their being. It isn’t natural.”

  “Natural? We turn them int
o productive citizens of the Empire. They made their choice; they had their chance to do right but chose to do wrong. We just give them a second chance to be good citizens by re-education.”

  “By what standard do you measure a person? By their bloodlines? A person is the sum of their actions and their memories. Our memories guide our actions; our actions determine our choices and our choices affect the future. We are nothing but the sum of our experiences.”

  DJ’s eyebrows tightened into a scowl. “Spartan, we have company.”

  Talia and Iaido turned from their conversation to witness the crowd part like the Red Sea to reveal a large Mantodea at the end of the bar. Standing well over eight feet tall with a blood red carapace his shoulders had to be close to four feet wide. He wore twin bandoliers crossed over his shoulders and the hilts of four swords could be seen.

  As Iaido slid out of the booth, the Mantodea bowed his head slightly and spoke in their chirping language. Iaido muttered, “This is going to hurt.”

  Talia desperately grabbed his arm and asked, “What did he say?”

  Iaido bowed his head to his opponent. “It is a traditional greeting of warriors; roughly translated he said, ‘it is my honor to meet you on this field of death.’ It is a challenge to honorable combat, blade to blade, warrior to warrior.”

  “You are expected to meet that monster blade to blade? Just shoot the beast!”

  “I cannot. It wouldn’t be honorable.”

  “Is death honorable?”

  “Depends. There was an ancient Terran bard named Shakespeare who once wrote, ‘my honor is mine life’ – for a student of Bushido, it is better to die honorably than to live shamelessly.” Turning back to his friend he added, “Watch my back. I’m thinking that this would be a good time for an ambush. Someone knew I could not or would not refuse this challenge.”