“I was one of the first to hear
its call,” Mul’drak told us. As we continued to sit in the cavern listening to the dragon's story. “Tal’on was my father’s Great. When I was a
youngling I listened to his tale of Tal’on over and over again.”
“So it was at least three
generations between Tal’on’s capture and the Sollen sounding again?” Jake
asked.
“Yes, and for your humankind,
many, many more generation,” Mul’drak said. “You live such short lives.”
“When the call came five of us
answered. We mistakenly thought five was enough,” the old dragon said and
shrugged his shoulders making his wings rise in the process. “We found out
later that the Prime passed on the story of the Sollen and its location through
his family and political associates as Tal’on and my father had passed it on to
us. In fact, the ruling of the Valdare had been retained in the Prime’s family
line. When we arrived we found the Valdare had developed into an advanced technological
society with no pity for their own kind, much less ours.
“The current Prime sent a small
army to wipe out the village where Delevy’s progeny lived and retrieve the
Sollen. When we arrived, the village was nothing but an ash heap with troops
stationed around it on all sides,” Mul’drak explained.
There were tears in the old
dragon’s eyes as he started to describe the scene. I noticed Arr was tearing
up. I thought he was probably seeing it firsthand from the ‘picture talk’ the
dragons used. The young Henu reached over and took my hand. I squeezed it in a
comforting way. It must be so overwhelming to have a photographic memory, where
you recall each little incident in perfect detail. I often wondered about that,
because Jake and Arr fought mission after mission as mercenaries. That was
their job. Jake could eventually file away the acts of violence they had to commit,
but Arr, where did he tuck those tough pictures away? How did these dragons
with so much age manage to handle the burden of their memories?
“It was a trap,” Mul’drak
snorted. “We should have known. The leader of the human’s stood holding the
Sollen and when we appeared they were ready. Their flying machines had
advanced. Their weapons were stronger. I, and my friend Alm’mar, were the only
ones who escaped, and we found out later that was only because they let us. Alm’mar
roasted the leader and grabbed the Sollen. We jumped!”
“And the Valdare followed,” Jake
said with a note of realization in his voice. He had been a mercenary all his
life. His father was a mercenary before him. He knew how these scenarios played
out.
“Yes,” Mul’drak confessed. “The
Valdare had made listening devices in the higher skies of their planets. They
tracked the call of the Sollen as Alm’mar held it in his paw. They pen pointed
our home word and followed us here.”
“They had very advanced flying
machines, much faster than your…”
“Pod,” I supplied.
“It’s just a transporter,” Jake
supplied. “They probably had fighters.”
“They were very quick and small,
with a much tighter ability to turn. They hid in the rocky cliffs of our
mountains and struck, and struck again.” Mul’drak went on to explain. “They
carried weapons that burned and killed our kin. Our scales were no longer
protection for us.”
“Lasers,” Arr said through his
tears.
I was now sure he could see what
the old dragon was remembering.
“The adults fell from the sky
like leaves,” Mul’drak said with a shake of his head. “We were able to keep the
troops at bay. Even though they possessed battle armor, it was still not match
for tooth, claw and fire. We captured one of their leaders. Under duress, he
told us of the new Prime’s plan. They were to kill off all the adult dragons and
then capture the younglings. The one’s this size.” He nudged Rudd’ard in the
thigh with his muzzle. “They intended to take them home and match them with
riders during their stasis in order to form an army which could finally
overwhelm their Sandcor enemies.”
“Why didn’t they just overtake
them with their own advanced weapons?” I asked. It didn’t make any sense to use
dragons against lasers.
“The Sandcor were no longer an
organized army. They were pockets of resistance with less advanced technology,”
Rudd’ard started to explain.
“Resistance fighters,” Jake
supplied. “Guerillas, dug in and hard to root out.”
“Terrorists,” Arr added.
“Indeed,” Mul’drak agreed. “The
Valdare soldier said the stories of Tal’on’s fighting skills with claw, tooth
and fire were the nightmares of the Sandcor. Tal’on’s name was used to scare
children into submission and made grown men shake their head, even these
hundreds of years later.
“We could not let our youngling
become slaves, yet there was nowhere on this planet to escape from the Valdare,”
Mul’drak went on. “Each adult was paired with a hatchling or youngling, or two.
Some of the young ones had never been on a ‘jump’ before and many would not
make it, but we had to try.”
The old dragon took a deep breath
and let it out in a long sigh. “Our best and strongest stayed behind to keep
the Valdare at bay. The enemy had determined where the nursery was, here in
these caves.” He waved a wing. “The rest of us ‘jumped’ with our charges.” A
tear rolled down his cheek. “Many did not make it. Who knows what world they
landed in, helpless like Tal’on - probably without the proper stone to fashion
a Sollen to call us to their rescue.”
Jake and my eyes met. I could
tell he had the same thought. Had some of them landed on Earth? Was that where
our dragon legends came from?
“The Valdare were so angry they
left the planet as you see now,” Rudd’ard said, as he stroked his Great’s neck
in mutual comfort.
“It looks like they nuked it,”
Jake offered. “Radiation levels are low now, but it’s been a long time since it
happened.”
“And the Sollen was left behind?”
I asked. It seemed like a very illogical thing to do when they knew they were
drawn to it as a species.
“Alm’mar hid it as soon as we
realized the Valdare followed us. He told one other dragon and they were both
killed during the initial fighting with the invaders,” Rudd’ard explained.
It seemed that Mul’drak was too
lost in his memories to go on. I also noticed Arr was purring again. Trying to
calm himself.
“No one knew where it was, so we
couldn’t take it with us. We thought it destroyed until we heard its call when
your parent’s unearthed it.” Rudd’ard continued to stroke Mul’drak. The old
dragon’s wings drooped and he laid his large wedge shaped head in the younger
dragon’s lap. “It only sings when you handle it, so the call was short. By the
time we arrived. Your parents were gone. We didn’t hear the call again until Arr
of the Henu began to play it.”
“What will you do with it?” Arr
asked. He pulled the Sollen from it place in the pouch at his waist.
“We will destroy it.” Graf’tal
said with finality. “The Valdare may still have the means to track it when it
sings. No more of our kin must die because of its song.”
“That’s how they knew we had it
on the Opus II,” I said. “When it was given to me, I handled it off and on for
a couple of days before I headed out here.”
“Destroying it will be the only
thing that will finally release our kin from the Valdare,” Rudd’ard said.
Jake drew his blaster. “Put it on
that stone over there, Arr.” He pointed to one of the large boulders scattered
around the cavern floor.
Arr, Mul’drak and Rudd’ard’s
heads all shot up at one time, turning to face the entrance.
“It’s too late,” Arr gasp.
“The Valdare at here,” Mul’drak
growled.
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