Chapter 537: Resurgence - Legends (2/2)
”Can I see your face?” Brentili'ik asked.
The heavy power armor went still. Completely still. It was if the entire terminal held its breath.
To Brentili'ik, it felt like the universe itself was holding its breath.
”I have been veiled since Telkan died. Since the Great NoDra'ak himself stood on the command bridge and ordered the burning You've Got Nothing battleship to interpose itself between the fleeing shelters and the Dwellerspawn rather than allow us to be pursued,” Void Captain She'islos said softly. ”None have seen my face since that terrible time.”
”Please,” Brentili'ik said. ”I have not seen you since that day in the park.”
”Our birthday,” She'islos said. She reached up with trembling fingers, pinching the corners of the veil.
The armored Telkan all turned away from her, grounding the butts of their rifles, holding them by the muzzle, just above the front sight post. They lifted their left arms, covering the forward visor of their armor.
Brentili'ik showed no expression, her eyes full of tears, as she saw the face of her twin sister for the first time in almost over a decade. It looked so much like hers, even the pattern on the fur.
Except for the warsteel prosthetic that replaced her triangular nose, swept down the left side of her muzzle, the left side of her face to almost her ear, and the warsteel replacement for her left eye. The fur was upraised by the thick scar where it met the warsteel prosthetic. Her throat had black warsteel cybertendons visible through the fur, a mechanical implant in the middle of her throat.
Brentili'ik reached out and touched her sister's face.
”Welcome home, sister mine,” Brentili'ik said, then leaned forward and nuzzled her twin's nose. ”Welcome home.”
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Brentili'ik led the procession out of the terminal, walking beside her sister, holding her one flesh and blood hand. The night was still quiet, hushed, almost as if the world was being quiet out of respect.
”They have the right to broadcast this, so our people can see you return home,” Brentili'ik said, nodding at the reporters taking photos. ”I would not allow them to intrude, however.”
”I understand,” She'islos said. She looked up. ”The stars... they're the same.”
The procession suddenly stopped and Brentili'ik looked away from her sister's face to see why.
The armored Telkan were going down on one knee each, a fist pressed to the earth, the other fist holding tight to their weapon so the barrel pointed up. They were all whispering the same two words.
Ahead, just where the lights of the parkinglot gave way to the darkness, stood a Telkan female in all black.
”The Widow,” She'islos said. She dropped down, kneeling in her dress.
Brentili'ik watched, still standing. Even the other politicians had gone done on one knee.
She could see even some of the press had.
The woman, who Brentili'ik had known for years, since the flight from Telkan aboard the Mercy, moved forward silently. Like the Void Captain, her dress moved as if she was floating above the tarmac. She stopped in front of the first kneeling Telkan.
”Ultion Knight Xerila'at,” she said softly.
Feedback screeched across the sound systems of the reporters who still had microphones trained on the group. Sparks showered up as the audio equipment heard the whisper of The Widow.
But those watching on their Tri-Vees heard her voice clearly.
The Widow reached down with both hands, putting them on either side of the Ultion Knight's head. She gently pulled.
The Ultion Knight's faceplate clicked as it released.
”Welcome home,” the Widow said softly to the weeping, scar faced female Telkan inside the armor. She leaned down and kissed the tip of the Telkan's muzzle. ”You were missed.”
The reporters made sure to catch every angle they could as the Widow moved through the ranks of the heavily armed and armored Ultion Knights, one by one removing their face masks to reveal either very young males or females.
In two cases the Ultion Knight was a broodcarrier with a heavily scarred face, one with only cybereyes.
Brentili'ik watched as the Widow moved past her, removing each faceplate, calling each Ultion Knight by name, kissing the tip of their muzzle, then moving on, dropping the faceplate to the ground.
Brentili'ik was looking right at the Widow when she straightened up from kissing the tip of the nose of Ultion Knight Zretun, one of the few males, who looked barely adult to Brentili'ik. The Widow just vanished, as if she had blinked out of existence.
She looked down at her sister, who was kneeling, weeping, both hands on the tarmac.
Brentili'ik reached up and touched her comlink with one hand, summoning emergency services. With her other hand, she reached down and touched the top of her sister's head.
Telkan across the system watched.
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Brentili'ik watched as her sister slowly woke. Watched her sister's eyelid flutter even as her cybereye ran through a quick self-diagnostic. After a moment her sister turned her head and looked at her.
”My people?” Void Captain She'islos asked, reaching out for her sister.
Brentili'ik took her sister's hand, pulling it close to her chest. ”They're being brought to the surface. Family members have been alerted. They'll be accompanying them to the hospital, just as I accompanied you.”
”And those who have no family?” She'islos asked.
Brentili'ik shook her head. ”There are many Telkan who would remember them, were friends with them,” she gave a short chuckle. ”In more than a few cases, the person who is going to the medical center with them is this universe's version of them.”
She'islos pulled her sister's hand to her and kissed it. ”How long must I be here?” she asked, rubbing her muzzle against her sister's hand.
”The majority of you can be discharged after breakfast. Physically, you're all mostly tired, missing a few trace elements, but by and large, healthy,” Brentili'ik said. ”Some cases are a little more difficult. Some of the Ultion Knights are fused to their armor.”
”The Deathless,” She'islos said.
”Yes,” Brentili'ik said.
”What of the Duty Bound?” the Void Captain asked.
”There are temples, priests, to care for them,” Brentili'ik said.
There was a light scratching at the door. Brentili'ik turned and looked, nodded, then looked back.
”Your nieces and nephews are here. Are you up to seeing them?” Brentili'ik asked.
She'islos looked over at the podlings gathered up near two oh-so-familiar broodcarriers.
One was missing an ear, only a thick line of scar tissue remaining.
She waved shyly.
”I think I'd like that,” She'islos said, waving back.