7. Loelle

seven

Loelle

The wind whips through my hair, stinging my eyes as I push the sand skimmer to its limits. We're racing across the vast expanse of the droughtlands, the twin suns of Aridium beating down mercilessly even at this early hour. Leera is clinging tightly to my waist, and I'm sure her antennae are flattened against her head to reduce wind resistance. In the sidecar, Finzar is comically crammed in. His imposing blue frame looks like it's about to burst from the tiny compartment. Despite his discomfort, I can see his eyes are alert, constantly scanning our surroundings for threats.

The skimmer's engine whines in protest as I push it harder. Sand sprays in our wake, creating a billowing cloud that I hope will add difficulty to our pursuer's blaster aim. The vibrations of the vehicle rattle my teeth, but I grit them and hold on tighter to the controls.

Despite our dire circumstances, my veins are pumping with adrenaline. This is what I live for—the thrill of the chase, the high-stakes gamble. But this time, it's not just about a smuggling run or a heist. The fate of Finzar, my crew… maybe even all of Aridium hangs in the balance.

"We've got company!" Leera shouts over the roar of the engine, her voice tinged with alarm. I risk a glance in the rearview mirror to see a cloud of dust on the horizon—more Dune Marauders, no doubt. Their vehicles are larger, more powerful, built for this harsh terrain. They are gaining on us, and fast.

"Finzar," I call out, my voice nearly lost in the wind, "how much farther to the temple?"

His deep voice carries over the noise of engine and wind. "We're close. See that outcropping?" He points to a jagged formation jutting from the desert floor. "The main entrance is just beyond it."

I nod, gritting my teeth as I push the skimmer even harder. The engine's pitch increases to a worrying whine, but I ignore it. We don't need it to last forever—just long enough.

The jagged peaks of Crimson Ridge emerge before us, growing larger with each passing second. At first glance, the mountain range appears as forbidding as ever. But now, with my eyes opened by my time in the temple, I can see what I missed before. Subtle changes in the rock formations catch my eye—too angular to be natural, too purposeful to be coincidence. The sight of it sends a chill down my spine. Memories of my short time as a prisoner there is still all too fresh in my mind.

As we near the base of the mountain, the terrain becomes treacherous. Massive boulders litter the landscape, and deep ravines cut across our path like angry scars. I weave between obstacles, the skimmer groaning under the strain of my evasive maneuvers. Leera yelps as we narrowly miss a jutting rock, the edge of the skimmer scraping against it with a screech of protesting metal.

The Marauders are gaining on us. Their more powerful vehicles are better suited for this rough terrain. I can hear the roar of their engines now, growing louder with each passing second. A blast of energy sizzles past us, so close I can feel the heat of it passing my cheek.

"We're not going to make it to the top like this," I shout, frustration and fear warring in my voice. "We need to find another way in!"

Finzar's eyes scan the mountainside, his expression intense with concentration. Suddenly, he points. "There!" he shouts. "That crevice—it leads to a hidden entrance. I've used it for missions."

I veer sharply toward the narrow opening, praying to whatever gods might be listening that the skimmer will fit. We barely scrape through, the sound of screeching metal filling the air as the sides of the vehicle grind against the rock. Behind us, I hear the satisfying crunch of a Marauder vehicle trying to follow and failing, followed by shouts of anger and pain.

The crevice opens into a dark tunnel, cool air rushing to meet us. I kill the engine, and we dismount quickly. The silence is deafening after the chaos of our flight, broken only by our heavy breathing and the distant, muffled curses of our pursuers.

"From here, we go on foot," Finzar says, his voice low and tense. He pulls a small, powerful flashlight from his belt, illuminating the rough-hewn passage ahead. "The ritual chamber is deep within the mountain."

As we make our way through the winding passages, the gravity of our situation settles over me. We're walking right into the heart of the Nexus, giving them exactly what they want—Finzar and me, the key components for their ritual. If we fail, we're not just risking our lives, but potentially dooming all of Aridium to whatever darkness lurks in the Temple.

The tunnel gradually transitions from natural rock to worked stone, alien symbols carved into the walls at regular intervals. They seem to writhe in the beam of Finzar's flashlight, creating unsettling patterns that make my head ache if I look at them too long.

As we move deeper, I notice a pattern in the temple's layout. Every junction, every chamber we pass, seems precisely placed. It reminds me of something Finzar mentioned last night about Nexus temple design—how it always incorporates some sacred geometry.

"Finzar," I whisper as we pause at an intersection, my voice barely audible even in the stillness, "if things go wrong… if it looks like they might capture us…"

He meets my eyes, understanding dawning in his pale blue gaze. "I won't let that happen," he growls, his voice a low rumble that I feel more than hear. "I'll die before I let them use you for their ritual."

I nod, a lump forming in my throat. The weight of it settles in my chest, along with a surge of gratitude and guilt. I've led my friends into this nightmare, but their unwavering loyalty humbles me. Whatever happens, I swear to myself their trust won't be in vain.

As if reading my thoughts, Leera places a reassuring hand on my arm. I meet her eyes, then Finzar's. "We have to do this," I say softly. "The Nexus threatens all of Aridium—our homes, our freedom, our future. If we don't stop them here and now, there won't be anywhere left to run."

Their nods of agreement strengthen my resolve. We share a moment of silent understanding before Leera's antennae suddenly twitch violently, nearly smacking me in the face. "Someone's coming," she hisses, her eyes wide with alarm.

We press ourselves against the wall, holding our breath as a group of acolytes hurries past, their robes swishing softly against the stone floor. Their voices are excited and nervous, echoing slightly in the narrow passage.

"…almost time," one says, his voice trembling with anticipation. "The High Inquisitor says the celestial alignment is perfect. The sun gods will soon arise, and finally the Nexus will reign supreme."

As their footsteps fade, we exchange glances. Time is running out. The Solstice is upon us, and with it, the potential end of everything we know.

We pick up the pace, Finzar leading us through a maze of corridors and secret passages. The air grows thick with incense and an underlying current of dark energy that makes my skin crawl. It's like static electricity, but worse—a feeling of wrongness that seems to seep from the very stones around us.

My heart pounds in my chest, each beat a reminder of the precious seconds ticking away. Sweat beads on my forehead, both from exertion and fear. I check for my blaster at my hip, a cold comfort against the unknown horrors that await us.

Finally, we reach a massive set of doors, intricately carved with symbols of the Aridium suns. The craftsmanship is exquisite, beautiful in its complexity, yet somehow obscene in its wrongness. Beyond them, we can hear chanting—a low, rhythmic sound that seems to vibrate through the stone beneath our feet.

"This is it," Finzar mutters, his voice nearly drowned out by the unsettling chorus of chants. "The ritual chamber. Sakar will be inside, along with his most trusted acolytes."

I take a deep breath, checking my blaster one last time. The power cell is fully charged, the barrel clean. It's not much against the might of the Nexus, but it's all I have.

"Alright," I say, trying to inject confidence into my voice, "let's end this."

Leera's eyes begin to glow that eerie purple again, the color seeming to pulse in time with the chanting beyond the doors. "I'll try to create a distraction," she says, her voice strained with the effort of containing her power. "But I don't know how effective my abilities will be here… these acolytes are wired differently!"

I nod, placing a hand on her shoulder. Her skin is fever-hot to the touch, vibrating slightly with barely contained energy. "Do what you can," I tell her. "We'll handle the rest."

With a shared look of determination, we push open the massive doors. They swing open silently, belying their enormous size. For a moment, we stand frozen on the threshold, taking in the scene before us.

The chamber stretches before us, vast and cavernous, dwarfing even the largest starship hangars I've seen. My eyes are drawn upward, trying to pierce the inky darkness shrouding the domed ceiling. Suddenly, a flash of… something… illuminates the shadows. It's like lightning, but wrong somehow. The light twists and writhes unnaturally, casting alien shadows that seem to move of their own accord. The walls are lined with towering statues of what must be sun gods, their stone faces contorted into expressions so intense they're unsettling. I can't tell if they're meant to depict ecstasy or agony, perhaps both.

Even the air seems to pulse with energy, each beat of the chant sending ripples of force through my body. The scent of incense mingles with something metallic and bitter—the smell of ozone and power. The temperature fluctuates wildly; one moment I'm shivering, the next, sweat beads on my skin. Every one of my senses is screaming danger. My instincts are urging me to flee but I stay put.

In the center of the chamber, a raised dais holds an altar of black stone, veined with pulsing lines of golden energy. It's bathed in a shaft of golden light streaming from a skylight far above, the beam seeming to shimmer and twist unnaturally. The room thrums with dark energy, making my skin crawl and my hair stand on end.

A male I assume to be High Inquisitor Sakar stands before the altar, his arms raised as he leads the chant. His voice booms through the chamber, chanting in a language that sounds ancient and wrong. Arrayed around him are dozens of acolytes, their bodies swaying in time with the chant, lost in some religious fervor.

For a moment, we have the element of surprise. Then all hell breaks loose.

Leera unleashes her psychic assault, the air around her shimmering with purple energy. Several acolytes closest to us fall to their knees, screaming and clutching their heads. Blood trickles from their eyes and ears as Leera's power overwhelms their mental walls. But as quickly as they drop, others take their place, the fanaticism in their eyes chilling.

I open fire with my blaster, aiming for the device on the altar that seems to be the focus of the ritual. Golden energy flares as my shots impact a previously invisible barrier. Each hit causes it to flicker, but it's not enough. We need more firepower.

Finzar charges straight for Sakar, his face a mask of fury. The High Inquisitor turns, his eyes widening in shock at the sight of his prized tormentor bearing down on him, but he takes just a second to ready his plasma blade. They clash in a brutal display of strength and skill, years of shared history evident in every blow and counterattack.

Several acolytes rush forward, clearly intent on aiding their leader. But Sakar's voice booms out, filled with a mixture of rage and exhilaration. "Stay back!" he roars. "The prodigal son has returned. Finzar is mine!" The acolytes hesitate, then retreat, forming a ring around the battling pair.

Finzar presses Sakar with a plasma blade, their battle a blur of brutal strikes and counterattacks. But something's off. Sakar seems to be leading Finzar around the room in a specific pattern. A horrible realization dawns on me: Finzar's movements are part of the ritual.

"Finzar, stop!" I yell, but my voice is lost in the chaos.

Suddenly, my comms crackle to life. Kuran's voice comes through, strained but determined. "Loelle, we're inside the mountain. Zax'r and I are heading your way with reinforcements. Hold on!"

An acolyte rushes me, a ceremonial dagger in his hand. I sidestep his wild swing, bringing my blaster up in a smooth motion and firing point-blank into his chest. He falls, his robes smoldering, but there's no time to catch my breath. Two more take his place, their faces contorted with religious zeal.

I duck under a swing, feeling the wind of the blow ruffle my hair. My fist connects with soft flesh, and I hear the satisfying crunch of cartilage as I break my attacker's nose. The other grabs me from behind, his arm around my throat. I drive my elbow back, feeling ribs give way under the blow. As his grip loosens, I flip him over my shoulder, slamming him into the ground with enough force to crack the stone floor.

Across the chamber, Finzar and Sakar are locked in deadly hand-to-hand combat now, their plasma blades cast aside. Finzar's massive fists swing with brutal force, but Sakar is quicker than his age would suggest. He ducks and weaves, retaliating with precise strikes that leave bloody gashes in Finzar's blue skin.

Leera is holding her own, her psychic powers creating a bubble of chaos around her. Acolytes approach, only to fall screaming as her mental assault overwhelms them. But I can see the strain on her face, the trembling of her limbs. She can't keep this up forever.

I turn my attention back to the altar, determination surging through me. The shield is weakening under my continued assault, hairline fractures spreading across its surface like a spiderweb. Just a few more shots…

Suddenly, the chanting rises to a fever pitch. The shaft of light from the skylight intensifies, becoming almost painfully bright.

Sakar's triumphant face looms before us. "You've played your parts perfectly," he gloats. "The sun gods demand willing sacrifices and you came here of your own free will. Your struggles, your very presence here—it's all part of the prophecy!"

The golden energy surrounding the altar pulses, then explodes outward in a shockwave that knocks me off my feet. I hit the ground hard, the breath driven from my lungs. Through blurred vision, I see tendrils of energy snaking out from the altar, reaching for us. Acolyte chanting becomes nearly frenetic, and the golden light intensifies.

I lock eyes with Finzar, as we are both suspended in the golden energy. His face is a mask of fury and determination, but there's a glint in his eye that I can't quite decipher. Whatever he's thinking, I hope it's something that can get us out of this mess.

The chamber doors burst open again. Kuran and Zax'r charge in, followed by a motley crew of rough-looking individuals. My eyes widen as I recognize faces among them—members of rival gangs, pirates, and outlaws I've encountered over the years. These must be the aliens whose friends and family I saw in those wretched cages when I crashed into this temple; others who have suffered at the hands of the Nexus. Their eyes burn with a mixture of fear and vengeance as they pour into the chamber, weapons blazing. But even with this unexpected backup, they're too late to stop what's already in motion.

Kuran springs into action, his cybernetic eye whirring as he analyzes the scene. He pulls out a strange device—a mix of advanced tech and what looks like scavenged Nexus artifacts. With precise movements, he begins placing small, glowing crystals at key points around the chamber, Leera and Zax'r providing him with cover.

Each crystal pulses with an energy that seems to counteract the ritual's power, if only slightly. Zax'r, meanwhile, becomes a whirlwind of destruction. His four arms wield an array of weapons, cutting down acolytes with ruthless efficiency as he defends Kuran. Their arrival shifts the tide of battle, but the ritual's pull grows stronger with each passing second.

We're running out of time.

Sakar begins another incantation, the words seeming to tear at the fabric of reality itself. The ceiling above splits open, revealing the twin suns of Aridium directly overhead. Their light, focused through the temple's architecture, becomes a searing beam that connects with the altar.

As darkness creeps into the edges of my vision, I see Leera collapse, blood trickling from her nose and ears. Her psychic assault has taken its toll, but it bought us precious seconds.

Desperately, I try to remember Finzar's explanation about the Nexus rituals—how they always require balance, symmetry. My gaze darts around the chamber, taking in the positions of everyone. Sakar, Finzar, and myself form a triangle around the altar. The realization hits me like a bolt of lightning.

I catch Finzar's eye, trying desperately to communicate my understanding. But the golden energy is constricting, making it hard to breathe, let alone speak. Sakar's crowing laughter echoes through the chamber as the ritual reaches its crescendo.

The twin suns of Aridium align perfectly overhead, their light focusing into a blinding beam that connects with the altar. The chamber shakes, stone cracking and debris raining down. As my vision begins to fade, the last thing I see is Finzar straining against his energy bonds, a look of grim determination on his face.

Finzar's eyes lock onto mine one last time. In that fleeting moment, I see a swirl of emotions—determination, fear, and something else. Regret? Hope? His lips move, forming words I can't hear over the roar of energy.

Then everything goes white.