Alien Chronicles 1 - The Golden One

LUCASFILM’S
ALIEN
CHRONICLES

Here is an epic set in a far distant universe—a saga of faraway planets and of races strange and more fantastic than any ever seen on our world. Yet their struggles are universal: for justice, for freedom, for peace. Lucasfilm’s
Alien Chronicles
is a sweeping trilogy that will transport you to another time, and to another place where a legend is about to be born.

THE GOLDEN ONE

For centuries, the kingdom of the beautiful, reptilian Viis flourished. But time, plague, and their own short-sighted arrogance have taken their toll, and an empire that once ruled scores of systems is now concentrated on one decaying homeworld.

But Sahmrahd Kaa—ruler of the Viis—is not concerned. He has just purchased a new pet for his daughter. The animal is an Aaroun—a lower creature with sharp teeth and mottled fur, one of many kept by the Viis as slaves. Unknown to the Kaa, however, is the true importance of this “pet.”

History will name her Ampris the Exile. Leader of the Great Emancipation. Conqueror of the Viis.

THE ALIENS OF

LUCASFILM’S
ALIEN
CHRONICLES

THE VIIS . . .
a race of seven-foot tall, beautifully reptilian creatures. Their physical attractiveness has convinced the Viis that they are the most important, godlike creatures in the universe. This has led to an underground race of the “uglies”—Viis that were cast off as unacceptable, worthless spawn . . .

THE AAROUN . . .
The race of Ampris are powerful, golden-furred creatures with sharp teeth. They have long been kept by the Viis as slaves, or as in the case of Ampris, pets.

THE KELTH . . .
a submissive, doglike race with stiff, bristly coats and simian hands. Because they are so easily intimidated, Kelth are considered unreliable to handle important tasks. They are not to be trusted . . .

THE MYAL . . .
Renowned for their insight and memories. Myal stand barely three feet tall and are usually poets, musicians, and historians. They control the archives of the Viis empire.

THE ZRHELI . . .
They are filthy, noisy, foul-smelling, and socially repulsive creatures. Yet they are unequaled at maintaining and repairing quantum hardware (the only reason to tolerate them).

THE SKEK . . .
Less than two feet high, furry, multilimbed, and quick, the Skek live like rats in the ducts and garbage of the Viis. It’s a common slave belief that if you dropped one Skek in a barrel, the barrel would explode with Skek offspring within a day.

THE TOTHS . . .
Big, stupid, and brutal, Toths roam the ghetto streets as thugs, but they are also used by their Viis masters as hired enforcers and brownshirts. Nearly as tall as the Viis, they have massive heads covered with thick mats of dirty, curly brown hair. Flies usually buzz around their long, floppy ears. Their faces are broad and flat, with wide nostrils, and their eyes are small and cruel.

THE GORLICANS . . .
Merchants, shopkeepers, traders, the Gorlicans are a steady, hardworking, nonviolent race allied to the Viis. A heavy shell encases their torsos, rendering their balance sometimes percarious, and their arms and legs are covered with thick gray scales instead of skin. Their faces are ugly, with a prominent horned beak for an upper lip, and they have orange or yellow eyes. They must wear masks in public to avoid offending the Viis.

Lucasfilm’s Alien Chronicles™
by Deborah Chester

T
HE
G
OLDEN
O
NE
T
HE
C
RIMSON
C
LAW
T
HE
C
RYSTAL
E
YE

LUCASFILM’S ALIEN CHRONICLES™: THE GOLDEN ONE

An Ace Book / published by arrangement with Lucasfilm Ltd.

PRINTING HISTORY
Ace edition / February 1998

All rights reserved.
Trademark and Copyright © 1998 by Lucasfilm Ltd.

This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, by mimeograph or any other means, without permission.

For information address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Putnam Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York. New York 10014.

Cover artist Bob Eggleton
Alien artist Teryl Whitlatch

ISBN: 0-441-00561-6

ACE®
Ace Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Putnam Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014. ACE and the “A” design are trademarks belonging to Penguin Putnam Inc.

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

CHAPTER
•ONE

Three days of warmth and shadow . . . nuzzling against the solid reassurance beside her . . . squirming with her siblings in the moist milk scent . . . dozing while gentle fingers stroked her back . . . making the soft mew-cries in dawning awareness of a world large and new.

Vision cleared first, bringing her shapes to associate with the confusing tangle of fragrances filling her senses. Sibling shapes . . . four little wedge-shaped heads covered in tan and fawn fuzz, wobbling in exploration. Mother shape . . . large and infinitely gentle, crooning sounds of love, providing warmth and nourishment as she stroked her babies and sang softly to them.

Her single female child she held often, nestling her atop her stomach and letting the tiny one wobble and explore. A golden child with soft, downy baby fur and no markings at all save a light brown mask across her eyes that would probably darken with maturity. All the males were striped in brown and fawn, almost identical, fractious when together yet furious if separated. The golden female, however, was placid and calm, content to interact with her mother yet adventurous enough to explore on her own.

“My golden one,” the mother crooned to her, smoothing back the fur over sweet baby eyes. They all lay together in the bed. A small lamp glowed, pushing back the surrounding shadows. Many sounds came from far away, muffled and unimportant.

“Brave and strong, my daughter will grow up to be. Look at you, bigger already than your brothers. Straight-shouldered, you are. An Aaroun, you are, my darling, a daughter of a proud line of the Heva clan. All your history, I will teach you. Our songs, you will learn that you may teach them to your sons and daughters. Through you, we will go on.”

Gentle, steady words. The golden one blinked up at her mother’s loving face, drinking in the words she did not as yet understand. But she could understand the love in those words, and the pride. Her own heart opened in response, and she felt a sudden rush of feeling so intense it almost frightened her.

She mewed, and her mother kissed her, laughing softly.

“Yes, my golden one,” her mother said. “Yes, you are wonderful and precious. I love you so much.”

Love. The golden one blinked and rubbed her head against her mother’s hand. It was her first lesson, to learn this feeling.

Without warning, there came a perfunctory pounding on the door. Before the mother could move, the door was slammed open, and a shaft of sunlight stabbed inside.

Startled, the golden one cried out. Her brothers awoke with screams. Their mother struggled up, hastily scooping her babies behind her.

“Get out!” she roared. “This is a birthing room! I have the right to privacy for these first days.”

A pebble-skinned, blue Viis male in a dust-colored coat that hung long enough to cover his tail stepped inside. He wore a voluminous hood that masked his rill and face except for his vivid green eyes, and concealed his identity. Two Toth thugs carrying stun-sticks followed him.

Fear filled the Aaroun mother.

Standing well above two meters, nearly as tall as the Viis, with massive heads and shoulders covered in pelts of matted, curly hair, Toths were the worst kind of enforcers. Brutal, stupid, and dirty, they entered with a cloud of flies buzzing about their heads, chewing lazily, now and then flicking a big, pale tongue up inside their broad nostrils. They gazed at her with small, cruel eyes that danced with anticipation. Toths enjoyed inflicting hurt. Mercy was unknown to them. For the first time in her life, the mother felt the need to say the ancient Heva lamentations as a prayer rather than song-poetry. But her mind went blank, unable to summon the words. In the name of the ancient gods, what were these creatures doing here?

From outside her room, she could hear anguished screams down the row of cheap housing. Her fear intensified, and she began to pant. Whatever they intended, she would fight them to the death if necessary.

She watched the three intruders fan out at the foot of the birthing bed, facing her. Again she shifted her body to shield her crying babies.

“Get out. Get out!” she shouted, her voice thundering in the tiny room. “You have no business here.”

“Watch her,” the Viis said to his men. He was speaking in the common patois of the abiru, or slave races. “She’s weak from birthing, but she’s still dangerous.”

The mother’s alarm continued to grow. She panted with it, her rage mingling with her fear. She was poor, a grade-two worker in the docks. Her mate was on shift duty even now. With all her heart and soul she longed for him to come, but she knew it was impossible. He did not know she needed help. He thought her safe within the birthing room. Gods’ mercy, why were these brutes here?