Dz'oan Arclight, Defender of Life

Rescuing the Dauphin

The first thing Dz’oan became aware of as she regained consciousness was the metallic taste of blood in her mouth.  Muscles knotted and cramped, she could barely move from where she had fallen to the worn pavement to curl into a half moon of agony.

Yet she had twitched in surprise when a big hand descended onto her shoulder.

“Are you alright?”  A soft voice asked in the human tongue.  Silently screaming against the pain-sourced rictus that froze her muscles, her large eyes fluttered open and she managed to catch sight of a large form leaning over her with her peripheral.  It was human alright, dressed in worn battle armor that bore long gouges and dents.  Then the gauntleted hands were pulling off the heavy helmet and she was looking into the face of a human male.  To be quite fair, she was no true judge of human appearance.  They often looked unfinished and bulky to her lekun senses.

This fellow, however, took that appearance a step further with a horribly mangled nose, deep set eyes under a beetling brow ridge and broken and missing teeth.  Thankfully the rest was hidden behind a heavy beard or he truly would’ve been the ugliest human she had ever laid eyes on.  Yet there was no mistaking the concern in his dark eyes.

“I said, are you alright?”  He had repeated in lekunese, the fluid syllables of her native language managing to escape his broken mouth with some semblance of their original structure.

“I, I don’t know.”  She remembered hoarsely admitting.

“Get the lekun out of the way, Stephen.”  Another human voice roughly commanded from beyond her range of vision.

“We need to hit the dauphin’s escort before they leave the warrens.”  Then there was movement all around them as, with a sigh of resignation, the man the second had named Stephen, nodded before carefully taking hold of her and moving her to the dirty wall of a nearby building.

There he leaned her back against the wall, a position that granted her a clear view of the advancing escort.  And the knot of humans in battle armor that were swiftly filling the shadows back from the mouth of the alley they now occupied.  To the individual, blue slashes across their armored shoulders marked them as Armagnacian, the rebels looking to push the Ni’vaan back off their adopted home world.

- You must get up and join them, Dz’oan. -  The voice in Dz’oan’s mind abruptly returned to say.  - Get up and help them free the Dauphin. -

“H-How?”  She stammered with a whisper, her body refusing to obey her commands to stand and flee what would shortly become a battlefield.

- You have been called, defender of life.  You have been chosen.  And your body has been changed so you have the strength to fulfill that calling. -  The voice answered matter-of-factly.  - Long ago this day was foreseen.  So your ancestors were prepared to be defenders in the last hour.  Go, Dz’oan, lift yourself up and carry this message to the Ni’vaan and all that would aide them.  Tell them Gaulisel will no longer submit to those who would destroy her.  Go, and be her messenger. -

The young lekun’s mind whirled.  Where was this voice coming from??  And why was it urging her to go into battle against the Ni’vaan?

Then her attention was captured by two Armagnacian soldiers moving up with large weapons in their hands.  One took position against the far building on the other side of the ally, and the second was a mere two or three metres away as he raised the weapon to his shoulder and took aim.

As weapons went, Dz’oan remembered this one was particularly menacing in its appearance.  A metre-long barrel, with a flattened piece at the end, all jammed into a jumble of dark metal parts held in place with strapping and bolts.  It was awkward to carry, due to its length and obvious weight.  But the soldier handling it did so with great confidence, using the building to brace against as he took aim down the long barrel.