He dreamed of battle. The small bed shook with the richoet of laser blasts and the shock waves of downed Dreadnoughts. Spectral warriors, dressed in the blue of the French Guard, struggled against boarding parties of invading Imperial mercenaries. Into this melee of laser fire and sword play came the soft hum of the computer's arrival signal.
Dominique Maginot slowly opened his eyes. He had been expecting the warning. Out of the view screen of his small, but well armed, Corsair, he could see his destination. The red star was called Dismall by the Solomani Scout Corp. Circled by one lone, inhabitable, rock of a world, with no name marked, which means the Navigation Computer referred to it as Dismall - 1. An appropriate name.
After landing at the only spaceport on the planet, Dominique surveyed the small mining colony of Dismall - 1. A tiny Vilani settlement by intergalactic standards. It had been an Imperial planet until it was handed over as reparations from the last Intergalactic war between the Solomani and Vilani Empire of the Sun, commonly referred to as the Imperium.
All they did, man, woman, and child, was mine. Everyone mined and everyone was dirty. And it was not like they were mining some precious alloy like Titanium or Adamantium, no, just plain old copper. So far he had neither seen, heard, or smelled any redeeming feature. Even the women were ugly.
Visitors were supremely rare in this part of the galaxy. This was the frontier, but at the wrong end of the universe. No one much cared about this side of the galaxy. The real action was at the other end, with deteriorating relations between Earth and the Imperium, things were hotting up. But no, where was I ? A Solomani Guard, not with my comrades at the front-line, but here on this backwater. Maybe volunteering for this assignment was not such a good idea.
People eyed him suspiciously when he disembarked from his Corsair. After they had looked him up and down, they all disappeared into their homes. You would have thought that a Solomani Guard would have at least attracted a bit more attraction, especially in these parts. Six weeks worth of Hyper jumping and not even an astonished "gasp" at my entrance. Typical. To be honest, they seemed more frightened than surprised.
Those that had the courage to stay, eyed him with narrow, greedy eyes. His personal wealth amounted to little. All he had was his armour and Corsair, both standard issue for a Guardsman on a "Lone Wolf" mission. I suppose, to these people they would seem like a King's ransom. I let my hand stray to my sword and then my Gauss Gun. The message shot through straight as an arrow. I am not in the mood for a brawl.
Dominique found himself alone in the settlement he had come to protect. Typical. "Joan, lock up, no entrance to anyone but me. Only allow refueling rights to the technicians." Dominique said a little louder than necessary.
"Yes, Dominique, replied the computer. He loved that voice. He had it purposely programmed to simulate a late twentieth century actress' voice, Joan Chan. How he loved her voice. Ahh, but she had been dead for 150 years. He let out a small sigh. It was illegal to change the voice of a computer on a military ship, but he would change it back before he returned home.
Dominique was a young private in the most prestigious and well trained unit of the Terran Army and Navy. He wanted to prove himself. He wanted to do something that he had read about, something that would make these miners look at him in wide-eyed astonishment and admiration. Though he would not admit it to himself, he wanted to be a hero.
When the commander had asked for a volunteer, he jumped at the opportunity. Thinking he might be sent into the Imperium on some Search and Destroy mission, or some daring raid on an Imperial supply fleet. What happened ? He ended up here, at Dismall - 1. The miners at Dismall - 1 had sent out a priority one emergency transmission to the Solomani Government, which had recently changed its name from its old title of the United Nations. At first, they had reported that an entire invasion force of the aslan had landed. Savage Tiger-Men with their own code of honour.
After some checking, the Scout Service clarified that the invasion force was actually one lone Aslan. The situation did not warrant a full task force, seeing the bulk of the Solomani Army and Navy were deployed against the imminent conflict with the Imperium. It was an ideal situation for me.
Little was known about the Aslan apart from the fact that they were physically stronger than a man and looked like the result of some genetic experiment with cats that had gone wrong. They held some sector "south" of Dismall. They are also considered highly dangerous and are labeled as an unfriendly race. My mission was simple, I was to protect the people of Dismall by eliminating the aslan "terror".
Six weeks later, Dismall - 1's savior and future hero had arrived, but to less than a hero's welcome.
It stunk of sweltering fumes. He could taste the Copper in the air.
One slightly better - dressed man met him when he made it to the town centre. By the look on his face, he did not seem to want the actual honour of greeting Dominique. Dominique approached him, he looked ready to faint, but managed to stammer out a greeting. Dominique removed his helmet and returned the greeting.
As it turned out, the fat little man was the Governor. He seemed taken aback by the youthful appearance of the Guardsman. Dark straight hair, complimented by his dark almond - shaped eyes and olive complexion. A stark contrast to the blonde locks and fair skin that seemed to dominate this colony.
"My name is Dominique Maginot, Private in the Solomani Guards, the French Arm. A am merely sightseeing while my craft refuels. Then I will lift off within the hour." He thought he would play a little game with them, to see how accurate the information was that had been fed back to the Scouts.
The Governor began to sweat, and seemed even more distressed, "Then you are not here to save us from the Aslan?"
Dominique smiled, "Aslan? I vaguely remember hearing that the aslan Empire lies not far from this frontier, somewhere beyond Dismall and its surrounding stars, correct?" He waited for a nod, "I know nothing of your situation. How many? How far?"
A small crowd had gathered around the Guardsman and the Governor by that stage, and out of confusion he managed to discover that, indeed, there was only one Aslan savage. Though it had arrived in a spacecraft with others, it was left behind, alone. They assured me that they were probably at home planning more war strategies. The lone Aslan was just beyond a small outcropping of rocks, about an hour's walk, and 10 minutes by Gray car. But, of course, they did not have a Gray car. The mob agreed that this Aslan was some advance scout for a full blown invasion of the Solomani Confederation in the near future. Those brave enough to spy on the Aslan, mostly children, reported that it was sharpening long sticks which it had gathered from the small, but sturdy, trees littered across the otherwise barren planet scape.
An image of heroic proportions was forming in Dominique's mind. He pictured himself defending it in single combat, cutting and slicing it a thousand ways, each time more elegant than the last. The head of the beast on the point of his sword. It occurred to him briefly, that the reverse was also true. But he dismissed it. He was a Solomani Guardsman.
"Alright. I will confront the beast today. I will have its head before you before the day is done. I swear it." Dominique said with all the nobility he could muster.
The Governor seemed skeptical at the Guardsman's last comment seemed skeptical at the Guardsman's last comment. But what did he have to lose? If the Guardsman could do it, all the better. If he failed, they would be in the same place as they are now. None the worse for the attempt.
Dominique brought out the motorcycle that was aboard the Corsair. He loved riding the thing. Twin ceramic, rotary engines. Fastest thing in all the army. Durable too. It was good for rough terrain as well as high speeds. Standard issue on a Corsair.
Dominique rode the cycle part of the way, the rest he walked. He did not want to alert the creature to his presence. He found fresh tracks which he tentatively followed. He had to be careful, if Imperial legends are to be believed, the Aslans were crafty fighters, who prided themselves on battles skills. They also seemed to follow some type of code of honour, similar, so he had heard, as the Guardsmen's code. He had heard the older Guardsmen speak highly of the Aslan code.
Off to the north he saw the great tiger headed beast sitting outside a cave. Its head leaned over some unknown task. This was it. Dominique had intended on fighting it hand-to-hand, hoping his armour would equalise the strength difference. He was going to depend on his sword play and martial skill. This would be a true and noble test of a Guardsman, if he could down an Aslan in a single combat, he could down any Vilani. His heart pumped faster.
Dominique always preferred sword play to a fire fight. Using the natural curve of the rocky landscape, he approached as close as he dared. If it was like a cat back home, it would have excellent hearing, so he dare not go any closer yet. He locked his side arm into the armour and readied his long sword in his right hand and a short sword in his left. Then he flicked through any options he might have missed before he clashed with the Aslan. A smile crept over his face, he took a breath, then he spurred himself on.
With the aide of his servo-operated armour he quickly ate up the distance between himself and the man - beast. The moment he had left cover, the Aslan was up and facing the oncoming Guardsman. It was unarmed, but had a pile of sharpen sticks within reach. It could easily pick one up and skewer Dominique. His armour provided extra strength and protection from the laser fire, but it was never designed for piercing weapons.
The Aslan made no move for its weapons. Dominique's grim determination turned into bewilderment. He had never struck down an unarmed opponent. It went against everything he believed in, everything he had been taught, even when facing as Aslan.
Dominique would be upon the Aslan soon. Still, it had not made any move to protect itself, it seemed ready to take the death blow and die. He cursed, and at the last moment he pulled up. Not so easy when your running twice as fast as you normally can. The armour had been specifically designed to propel a soldier into battle as quickly as possible, stopping was not what the military had in mind when they designed it. He tried desperately to go around the creature if he could not stop. He was sure the impact alone would kill even as Aslan if it did not defend itself.
He managed to slow down, before Dominique tripped and fell flat on his face, loosing his long sword in the process. No real damage, except to his pride. He quickly came to his feet, it was then he realised he had lost his long sword and only retained his short. He thought he could still take it with just the short sword. He always had his pistol as backup.
He swung around and locked gazes with the Aslan. The massive creature calmly walked over and picked up his precious long sword. He handed it back to Dominique, hilt up. The Guardsman blinked, then accepted the blade. The Aslan returned to his carvings. Once in a while he would stare out into the blood red sky, and out at the stars. Dismall had a thin atmosphere, so even at day, one could see the stars.
Dominique pointed his sword at the aslan. "Fight" I was told that the aslan were fierce warriors, not sniveling cowards!" Dominique said in a deep commanding voice. Another military add on, the helmet had a voice deepener to give the wielder a more commanding voice.
The beast - man sneered, revealing long saber tooth - like teeth, then regained its composure. It simply put down one stick, and began on another. Sharpening it with some type of ornate knife.
Dominique, surprised at first, became angrier. How was he to prove himself if his opponent would not fight ? His sense of honour prevented him from striking it down, what was he to do if his opponent refused to fight.
The aslan choose that moment to speak. Its voice was deep, but feminine somehow. "I would rather speak with you Solomani Guardsman, who is so far from Earth." It said in a near perfect English.
Dominique loosened his stance. It took a few seconds for those words to sink in, the "it" became a person. How easy it was just to picture them as a race, instead of individuals. He sheathed his swords and removed his helmet.
"Sit here." His host indicated a spot next to him. Dominique followed his lead and sat. It was not until Dominique sat next to the aslan that he realised it, I mean he, could have killed him several times over.
"Who are you? Why do you disturb me? I have not troubled anyone. I have only sharpened a few sticks in my isolation." The aslan seemed genuinely annoyed. As if this was his personal hill. He paused a moment, looked at the stars, inspected the stick he was working on and then grunted and threw it away.
Dominique, who had not expected to play twenty questions with an aslan, took a while to answer. He still was not sure if he was not sitting in some elaborate trap. Aslan were, or so he heard, highly intelligent creatures that enjoyed playing mind games and proving their superiority over other races.
The creature asked the same questions again, this time a little slower, thinking perhaps that Dominique was a little slow. Dominique snapped out of his shock and told him the truth. He did not see any reason to lie. He told him about the miners and their fears as well as what Dominique had promised the miners.
"Humanity! You have a mind, you should learn to use it! I expected such stupidity from these Vilani Humans, but you Solomani as well. Are you all cut from the same note? Do you all share the same frailties?" The last questions were stated rhetorically.
Dominique did not disagree, but felt that the case was overstated.
"Men," said Dominique, "were not all the same. Some were honest, some were liars, some were cowards while others still had honour."
"Ahh, honour!" the aslan exclaimed. "Let us speak of honour."
The Aslans visage was oddly intent. He had abandoned his sticks temporarily. It looked like Dominique had hit a chord with him.
"Aslan, like some men, believe that honour is first and foremost."
Dominique nodded, "Without honour a man's life is worthless. He is damned. He becomes like an animal. Honour is like an island, rugged and without shores; we can never re-enter it once we have abandoned it. The tale of the Serpent is often taught and spoken about among the Guardsmen."
"I have heard the tale from one of your missionaries. Serpent betrays God's loyalty out of jealousy, and is banished to Earth as a spirit."
"That is essentially correct."
The man-beast thought for a moment. "Was he an honourable being being this great transgression?"
"To my knowledge, he was highly regarded. He was first amongst the heavenly host. That is what makes his crime that much more terrible. To abandon honour so abruptly, it is unthinkable."
"Apparently, not so unthinkable. Serpent did. I wonder what he felt?"
Dominique shrugged. Only Serpent knew and no one was going to ask him.
The aslan gazed at the stars once more. "On the island worlds of the Aslan, honour is everything. It sets us above the lesser races. We believe that honour is the inner garment of the soul. It is the first thing put on by it with the flesh and the last it lays down at its separation from it. The Dog-Men of the periphery claim they have honour. But they do not know what honour is. They fight in packs and prize guile and trickery above all else. The Vilani Humans claim they have honour, but their honour is bought and sold on the market. They are both old and cowardly races. You Solomani intrigue me. You are the same as the Vilani in essence, yet you value honour amongst the greatest of virtues. You teach your young that honour is the reward of virtue."
Dominique was impressed by the knowledge of the man-cat. He had never heard of the "Periphery" nor the Dog-Men that the aslan spoke off. The Vilani on the other hand were an eternal enemy. He had never dealt with one face to face until he came to Dismall, he only knew what the propaganda machine had told him and what the military had taught him. He took everything that the aslan said about the other races with a grain of salt. He guessed at the rather egotistical nature of the aslan. It made sense, Dominique surmised, they were cats.
"Our leader tells us that we will rule the Imperium one day, that no frail human organisation could hold onto such a vast Empire. His predecessor told us that we were the chosen race. The best of the creation."
Dominique feared that the aslan was going off on some rhetoric about the "supreme race" he had heard it all back on Earth. Except there it was about the Solomani.
He interrupted, "You were speaking of honour?"
The aslan nodded thoughtfully, "Yes, honour."
"In the aslan empire, we fight for our place in society. In the name of honour we slay one another. Our honour is our life - literally. He who does not fight, does not exist. We call it 'Deam JoHua, Deam BaRhua', blood in, blood out."
"A cruel society. The Solomani would never permit such futile bloodshed. Blood represents life and life is sacred.
The aslan growled. Dominique was sure he was going to jump him. As the growling continued, Dominique realised that he was laughing. A mirthless laugh. "I have heard a lot about the Solomani, especially about your warriors and soldiers. There are stories of bands of Solomani fighting on to the last, not willing to relinquish their position, until all are dead. Forget the fact that they could have retreated to better ground, or to fight another day. I have even heard of Guardsmen taking their own lives because they have shamed themselves before their comrades."
Dominique's hand strayed to his sword, "They are true enough. But you twist them and make it sound like - "
"Stupidity? Price? Arrogance?" Aslan interrupted.
"Are honour so important that you would leave the Guard, or even take your own life, if a comrade died because of you?"
"A Solomani, especially a Guardsmen, who fails to perform his duty is not worthy of the title." He could just picture his tutor speaking the same words back on Earth. They came easily to mind.
"Could you not make up for the mistake?" retorted Aslan.
"The friend would still be dead. The responsibility would still fall on my shoulders."
Aslan sighed, "How long would you pay for your mistake? Ten? Twenty years? If you saved a dozen lives, would that be enough?"
"Your question is beyond the sensible."
"Is it?" Aslan studied his hands. "Would you run a man through the back? A man who did not know that there was a hint of danger?"
"An aslan might, but not a Solomani, not a Guardsman. It would be better for me to die than to slay someone in such a way! I would challenge him."
"Really? What if you knew you could not win against him? He would slay you in seconds. What if you also knew that he would cause the suffering and deaths of many if you did not kill him there and then?" Aslans eyes looked straight into Dominique's heart.
"Again, are honour and loyalty such good things? Must we blindly do 'the right thing' ?"
Dominique did not answer. The beast's words made some sense, but they should not. His mind began to fill with doubt. He had to think.
"I have come to a decision today, Solomani."
Dominique blinked, "A decision?" The aslan intrigued him. He wanted to learn more about him, his people and his home world. So little was known. This particular aslan did not seem typical of his people. The tales of blood-thirsty, arrogant monsters was too consistent to be entirely false.
The aslan continued, as if he did not hear the Guardsman's words. "I have come to a decision today. A decision about honour and loyalty. Honour and loyalty are nothing without reason. It is not a sudden decision, I have been thinking about it a long while. There is a time to fight, there is a time to sacrifice one's life for another, and there is a time to run. Tomorrow the running will be over."
"Run?" Dominique said softly. He did not meant to disturb the Aslans chain of thought. Aslan once again looked towards the stars. He seemed to be studying them intently.
"As I said, the aslan fight for their place in society. If you do not fight, you do not exist. You are a shame for your family to bear. You are shunned by those who know you, and cursed by those that do not. Might makes right, honour is all."
The aslan turned and looked towards Dominique. Dominique was startled, he was so intently listening to the Aslans words. "Tomorrow, honour will be returned. No longer will my family have to hang their heads in shame." The final words sounded like a curse than a statement.
Aslan studied the last stick he had been working on. He grimaced, displeased with his handiwork, he threw it into the beckoning sand. The sand engulfed it. as if it was a living thing. Dominique was hating this planet more and more.
Dominique, oddly enough, found himself concerned, "What happens tomorrow?"
"Is it loyalty or love? Is it honour or fear?" The beast-man stood up. Dominique noticed the pile of finely sharpened sticks beside him. "Forgive me, Solomani, but I must go and make preparations for tomorrow, in private. Please do not follow me."
Dominique began to protest. He was cut short by the raising of one massive, clawed hand, "I know what the miners think. They are human after all, with human idiocies. Come tomorrow they will know the truth of things." He had an almost sad look in his eyes.
Aslan chose two of the sticks. Feeling the weight of one, he dropped it and chose another. Satisfied with his final choice he trudged off towards the cave complex near where they had been talking. The aslan stood over two meters high. Two meters of fighting tiger. He could have easily been a champion if he chooses to be so. But he had not so chosen. Dominique wondered what twist of fate had occurred to affect him so.
Dominique waited a few minutes more, then he left and walked to his cycle and mounted up. He would talk to the aslan no more that day.
The Governor and the miners were waiting for him. As he rode up their eyes flicked between his swords and pistol. He remembered his earlier promise, gritted his teeth and rode into the centre of the mob.
"Is the alien dead? Did you separate its head from its body? We feared for you, we thought you might fail, silly really. Traxk!" The little fat man called, "Traxk!" Again, he bellowed, picking his sickening white teeth as he did so. "Traxk, get some of the boys and go and drag the carcass back here. We'll stuff it and mount it in the Governor's Hall!"
"The aslan is not dead."
Dominique might as well have announced the full invasion force was approaching by the look that the Governor gave him. The crowd became very grim, a grumble and a curse could be heard here and there. One of the men spat on the ground.
"Wounded? Run off then? What?" The fat Governor persisted.
"Neither. We talked."
"Talked? Talked! What do you mean 'talked' ?" Some more miners came running at the shout. A coarse Maginot could be heard from somewhere in the mob.
"I do not think he will harm you." Dominique added.
"Coward!" shouted the Governor. "I'll report you, I will! I'll have you demoted!" The Governor, possessed with some courage, raised his fist. "I should have run you off Dismall!"
With one smooth motion, Dominique had both long sword and short in either hand. The long sword was neatly placed under the Governor's double chin. He was turning with anger. On top of everything else he did not need some idiotic, backward, cave dweller tell him he is a coward. On feeling the sting of cold Solomani steel, the Governor froze and began to sweat profusely.
"Sir, I did not come here to be insulted. If it will satisfy your 'honour'. I will remain to observe the aslan. If he makes any hostile move I will deal with him. Will that do?" To be hones, Dominique could not care less if it did or it did not. The whole planet reeked. The people stunk too. No one would care if the entire sector slipped into a black hole.
Someone whispered something in the Governor's ear. The Governor nodded. Dominique removed his sword and sheathed both of them. After the Governor regained a proper respiration rate, he managed to eek out a yes.
The crowd began moving away. After the Governor was a safe distance away, he added, "Do we have your Oath, trooper?"
"Yes," was all the fat man would get. The Governor then trodded off into his home.
Dominique headed back to his ship. After checking it out and noticing that the Dismall technicians had refueled his ship with unrefined hydrogen-fuel, he went to his bunk. He called up all that was in the archives about the aslan. Nothing really. Nothing that would help him.
If it was not for his sense of loyalty to the Guard he would have blasted off from that rock, hoping never to return to this sector of the Solomani Confederation. He was sick of the people. He preferred the company of the aslan over these tin-diggers, except for the maddening questions. He was happy he could at least feel comfortable in his ship away from this forsaken part of the universe.
"Joan, lights out." He was anxious to see what the next morning would bring. He dreamed of the Cheshire cat.
Once again, he was woken by his ever vigilant computer. She reported that there was commotion outside. Dominique ran to the cockpit and looked outside.
Aslan had entered the township.
A flood of panic swept the town. Mothers pulled children off the street. Men demanded the Governor to do something while the Governor demanded that Dominique keep his oath or face the consequences. As Dominique donned his scabbard and swords he mused over what type of consequences the Governor was thinking of. More interesting, would the aslan wait its turn. Dominique smiled. If the aslan wanted to destroy the town, it would have been done before the Governor could have come calling on Dominique.
Aslan did not slink into town. Despite the fact that he would be realistically outnumbered if the miners found their courage, he walked tall through the alien township. There was contempt in Aslans eyes. The mining camp of Dismall - 1 was no argument for the strengths of humanity. It stank, its people stank and coward like dog-men. Among them, only the Guardsman, an off-worlder, deserved respect. The others deserved nothing, not even acknowledgement.
The Solomani and aslan meet in the centre of the colony. Dominique did not put on his Battle Suit. Aslan had not shown any indication he had come to fight. A Solomani could do no less.
Revealing empty hands he approached aslan. Aslan returned the gesture. Most of the people had disappeared into houses, while a few brave children slank in the shadows watching the encounter. The Governor, out of fear for his position, stood a few meters from the two. The aslan did not even glance in their direction.
"I have come to you because you are the only one worthy of notice among these dregs." The aslan seemed anxious. He wore nothing but some type of short pants. His body was covered with brown and black fur. It glistened slightly. Dominique's curiosity deepened.
"What do you want from me?" asked Dominique.
The words came hesitantly to the man-cat's mouth. "I need you to follow me back to the caves. Today things will come to a proper conclusion. The miner have nothing to fear of me after today."
Dominique wanted to know more, but he could tell that aslan wanted to get away from this place. Something they both shared in common. "I'll have to put on my armour."
"One hour, no more." He turned and began his march back. As an afterthought he turned back to Dominique, "Please, hurry. Time is short." As he walked off he noticed how the miners scurried off when he approached. He turned once again and glared at the colony, and what it represented.
"They live in constant fear, yet they will not leave. Stupid. One more thing, tell them not to come to the rocks. Otherwise, only laser blasts and ashes will mark where this town stood. I do no threaten, I merely state a fact."
Dominique stood there absorbing the full impact of what aslan had said as he watched his stalk off, purposefully glaring at every human within eye shot. It was not stupidity that kept the miners here, just stubbornness. He relayed Aslans message back to the Governor. Not that there really was a need. Their ancestors may have been adventurous, but this lot did not have a curious bone between them. He disliked them nearly as much as the aslan did. But it was his duty to protect them despite themselves. That is why he would be at the rocks by the deadline, not the primary reason, most assuredly, but a reason, nonetheless.
The aslan was in the centre of the rocks when Dominique got there. He was, Dominique assumed, to be practicing some type of fighting technique with two of the sharpened sticks. He was startlingly swift for someone so huge. He was sweating from his exertions and only nodded to acknowledge Dominique's arrival. The aslan waited for his breath to return before speaking.
"The colony has nothing to fear from my people. It probably never will. It is a foul smelling cess-pool of your people. Perhaps even the aslan will keep this colony safe, because it lets us point and say there are the human weaklings."
The green cat-eyes moved towards the sky. Dominique followed his look to the same spot. He thought he could see something. A speck. No more.
Letting loose an animalistic growl, the aslan said, "My people, despite their prowess, are little better than those miners in some ways."
Dominique was surprised at the beast-man's words. From what he could tell of the aslan, such words would be considered treason. He noticed the aslan smiling, wide and teethy. More out of mockery than humour.
"The lesser races have nothing to fear from us. We will continue to kill each other proving our superiority over one another. We our blind to our faults. We have fought for so long, it has become a habit."
Aslans eyes never strayed from the stars. His eyes widened slightly. Dominique, trained to notice such things, looked skyward again. The speck was still far off, but he could identify it now.
It was a spacecraft.
He heard the aslan groan softly and he looked over, he had stood up and was stretching. His animal like features contorted in an attempt to frown. "Thus, it begins again. For their sakes."
The words did not seem directed at Dominique, more a thought which he had vocalised accidentally. The aslan peered intently at the fast approaching vessel, as if to make sure it was there. He then bent over and began selecting the best two stakes.
Dominique reacted immediately. If the passengers on the ship meant trouble, he was more than willing to add his strength to that of the Aslans. He had come to think of the aslan as a kindred spirit. To his surprise, his hand was stopped from drawing his gun. He turned around to gaze straight into the emerald green eyes of this cat-man.
"The sentiment is much appreciated, Solomani, but this is my fight. I only wish for you to observe," he did not remove his hand until Dominique had sworn an oath to that effect.
With incredible agility and speed the ship landed. He could make out the design, but it was unfamiliar. He could not tell that they were still using atomic drives. It seemed they may be deficient in some technologies as compared to his people. He was still surprised when the crew disembarked and he saw they were all aslan. All the same to varying degrees to his eyes. They all were wearing some type of non-mechanised armour. None carried any laser or slug-throwing weapons, just strange looking boomerang-shaped swords and short spears. Dominique noticed that they glared at the first aslan whenever they could.
He saw the obvious massive size and strength of these tiger-men. He tried picturing a large, disciplined force and shuddered. Better they continue killing each other than look outwards towards his Solomani home. If it was not for their brutal ways, the Solomani might be fighting the aslan instead of the Imperium today.
Dominique's friend muttered, "I tried convincing them of the senselessness of killing one another. Only later did I realise that it would result in this. Fortunately, they did not listen."
There were six in all. None seemed as tall as the original aslan. They saluted the original aslan and he returned the gesture. The leader of the new band glanced at the Guardsman.
Dominique's companion spoke, "A Solomani Guardsman from Earth here to observe, the rules permit - no - demand it."
The leader growled. "I welcome you Guardsman. The honour of your people precedes you." He pauses, considering the other Aslans statement. "I also accept the witness. It may be the first time that someone other than one of our own has stood witness to a possible condemned."
Dominique forced himself to say some formal greeting. Like Dismall-1, it left a bad taste in his mouth.
The leader turned back to the original aslan, "Have you come to terms?"
"I still remain the same. Nothing has changed."
"Then there is nothing more to say." The leader said, almost sadly. He tightened his grip on his sword.
"Nothing. We begin when you wish."
The leader assumed a battle stance, the other tiger-men formed a circle around the condemned aslan, each assuming their own battle stance. three of the Aslans were armed with the boomerang swords, Dominique could now see that they used the weapon with both hands. An equal number of Aslans were armed with short barbed spears. Each held their weapon forward in a ceremonial style.
The original aslan, carrying two of his best hand-crafted stakes gave a shout, perhaps he said something in a tongue Dominique did not understand, Dominique could not say for sure, and dropped into a fighting stance. Each aslan, it seemed, had its own fighting style.
A spear flashed toward the entrapped aslan.
Armed with two stakes, the encircled aslan ducked below the jab of the spear. His attacker drew back his spear, only to be replaced by the thrusts of the other two spearmen. A great gash appeared in the arm of the condemned. He was able to parry the other thrust successfully. He showed no sign of pain.
The execution had began in earnest.
As if they shared the same mind, the executioners all moved as one with swift thrusts, jabs and counter-attacks. Blood flowed freely. An Aslan sword flashed in the sunlight. The condemned whirled, blocking the thrust of his opponent with the crossed handles of his massive, wooden stakes. For a moment, the two warriors were locked together, but the condemned's greater strength won out and he hurled the other to the ground, slashing at his stomach as he fell.
At least one of his attackers have been felled. His sword dropped near the condemned, but he made no move for it. A barbed spear caught him in the chest. He let out a roar. The condemned fell to one knee. His would-be executioner moved in to try and finish it quickly. He under-estimated his opponent.
From his crouched position, the condemned leaped with all the power his legs could muster towards this latest attacker. The spearman was taken off guard, and received a stake through the neck for his eagerness.
He realised that the loss of that weapon meant death was certain. He was not allowed time to reach any of the weapons which had been dropped. Nor could he defend himself completely with one stake. The edge of a blade struck his good left arm. A spear was sunk into his chest, biting deep. The condemned fell back clutching the simple weapon he had made. Three of the aslan gave way to a single executioner armed with a barbed spear. He stepped towards the slumped and bleeding form. The downed aslan closed his eyes.
Dominique remembered yelling something, exactly what was lost to him. One of the aslan stepped towards him to guarantee his neutrality. His souls screamed that he should do something, that he should stop the death blow. But his training and oath made him stop for that one precious moment. The empty words held him back.
The spear came down with terrible speed.
The outcome was never in doubt. The damage was. Blade and spear had been jabbed and thrust, all the while being met by two simple stakes. The condemned lie in a crumpled heap on the rocks, a broken spear sticking out of his chest. Its owner could not care less, since he was also lying dead from a throat wound delivered earlier. A third figure was sprawled not more than a meter away from the last. An open stomach was his undoing.
Of the remaining four Aslans, none has escaped unscathed. The leader wore a gash on his arm as his honour badge. The other two, covered in cuts were helping to remove the stake splinters from the fourth Aslans leg. Dominique's companion had accounted himself well.
After they had cleaned themselves up and helped the other aslan with the leg wound, they went about returning the bodies of their dead companions to the ship. All the while ignoring the condemned.
Dominique could take it no more. He had promised he would not interfere and he had not. But the callousness of the cat-men shook him.
"You can't leave him there! He fought against impossible odds, and fought most admirably!" Dominique yelled.
The leader glanced coldly at the remaining body.
"It was expected of him. It made up for his cowardice. He brought shame on his family and himself. So great and strong until now." He glanced at Dominique, "You would not understand, you are still human, even if you are of the Solomani strand."
Dominique's hands had wandered towards his pistol and sword during the conversation. His grip tightened on both. The leader noticed.
"We have no quarrel with you, Solomani. You are here as witness, and witness only. Do not bring disaster on yourself." He eyed Dominique's weapons as if they were toys. Dominique was not sure if his pistol would bring this cat-man down.
"Please explain to me." Dominique relaxed his grip.
The leader sighed, "His family are nobility. For ten generations they have presented a champion as living symbol of our superiority over other races. He was to be the symbol of our generation."
Without warning, the arrogance in his voice subsided and beneath it, Dominique could hear the anguish. "Some say he must have met one of your holy men on his journeys to the human empires. They say that the holy man must have subverted him to your god. No one would have expected him to be subverted. Preaching of peace, of the lesser races as our equals. Ha! Of us abandoning the games! How else can we find our place in society? How else can we choose our leaders? An unbloodied kitten?"
The aslan stiffened. His mask on once again.
"Thus, he was given a choice. To see if his cowardice would bring his family down with him. If he did not fight his family would have suffered. Trial by Combat was their only hope. Such weakness can only be inherited."
Dominique grimaced. "This? This is combat?"
"He had a choice. He had weeks to prepare or run."
"That is no choice."
The aslan sighed once more, "As I said, you would not understand our honour, you are still human. Do not worry about it, return to your people. The scales have been balanced. Honour has been returned to his family, paid in full."
"He deserves a burial."
"His honour had been vindicated. His crime has not. Criminals may never be buried on aslan soil."
One of the other Aslans approached the leader from behind, and whispered something. The leader nodded. "This one would speak with you. He is related to the condemned."
The leader returned to the ship. The other aslan sniffed in Dominique's direction. He seemed to find Dominique's odour offensive. "I have been allowed to make a request to you."
Dominique was intrigued. He let the aslan continue.
"Despite his weakness, I would like my kinsman buried with some type of ceremony. He was a supreme warrior before the madness took him."
Dominique mentally questioned who was actually mad. Out loud, he asked, "What do you want from me?"
"You seem to be a fr - companion or acquaintance. I would ask that you give him a burial. I will compensate you." He made a move for some type of bag he had strapped to his girdle.
Dominique, shocked by the insinuation, cut him off, "I will bury him. I want no money."
The aslan blinked in confusion, then nodded slowly, "Thank you. I must return to my vessel now."
He watched them board back onto the vessel. The leader glanced at him briefly, but made no effort to talk. Dominique continued to watch as the aslan vessel slowly lanced into the Dismall sky. He continued watching until it was less than a speck in the sky above. Only after they had gone did he realise the one who had asked him to bury the condemned aslan was the final executioner. He wondered if this was not another aslan custom.
Dominique chose a spot outside the cave where the aslan worked out of. He could only get a meter down before he hit more rock. He was also hindered by the fact that the only tools he had to work with were the ones his aslan friend had left behind.
His prayers lasted until sunset. Dominique, his body stiff, rose and wandered into the cave the aslan lived out of for the weeks he was on Dismall. He picked up the ornate blade that the aslan used to make his stakes, He studied it for a moment, then placed it in one of his armours compartment.
He wandered back towards the colony.
He did not look back.
His reappearance in the colony caused quite a commotion. Though it was late in the day, people pressed against him as he made for his vessel. They all asked him if the beast was dead. The Governor located him about five minutes later, just as he was entering the rock they called a starport.
"Is it true, Guardsman? Did you slay the monster?" The Governor's breath smelled of beer.
"The aslan is dead."
He continued walking towards his ship. His eyes never straying from the path before him. He could hear the Governor declaring the next day a holiday. They were going to hold a feast and the Guardsman was going to be the guest of honour. He heard some people speaking about retrieving the body so everyone could see it. Eventually, the Governor caught up with him once again just before he was going to enter his ship.
"Sir Guardsman! Where are you going? Won't you join us at the feast tomorrow so we can do you honour?" The Governor said breathlessly.
Dominique stopped abruptly, turning, he matched gazes with the Governor for a full half-minute. The Governor squirmed under his gaze. Just as abruptly he turned and boarded his ship.
He did not look back.
It was customary for the person who discovered a habitable world to name it. If that person died without naming the planet of his discovery, then the first person to enter a name into the Solomani Scouts would have the privilege of naming that planet.
No one had ever bothered naming Dismall-1. A small, insignificant mining colony on the edge of the confederation. Dominique did. He typed in his suggested named and pressed enter. It was sent at the speed of light towards the Solomani Scout Headquarters on Earth.
A century later, when the Confederation had become an Empire and the Council was replaced by the Dictator, while the sleek cruisers and mighty battleships of the Second Imperium amass at the red star of Dismall awaiting their orders to move against the aslan. The soldiers would look and wonder why the Marshall of the Guardsmen, Dominique Maginot, who had distinguished himself often in wars against the Vilani before he died, had named the little dust ball of a planet, Regret.
Copyright Michael Mifsud 1993