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The Ng'anda
Part One
Excerpt from the interrogation of Sarq'eth, Ng'andan warrior
Note: this speech was originally given in Ng'anda-na, the trade language and, it seems, the only language spoken by the Ng'anda. On this year of 2450 CE, this speech has been translated into Traders English for the first time. Because of this, there are some difficult turns of phrase. To retain the dialect of the most fierce and, some say, distinguished warrior that the Empire ever produced before our capture of Sho'eoniz, we have kept the transliteration of certain words, then placed a poetic translation next to it and appending a footnote. The Ng'andan Q is a guttural hiss, like the German or Yiddish CH, and the RR is a gargling' sound similar to a cat's purr.
You wish me to tell you my story? Brave warriors for the Qar'anda, the Soul-Breakers, you do me credit(1). I would not think that your kind was much interested in the exploits of our people, as you certainly have no respect for our laws. But I should not blame you: you acted RRrapar'u en'anda, dueling with your soul, according to the wishes of the Qar'anda(2). At any rate, I will tell my story, not because you wish it, but because it is true; and, no matter how your people twist my words, it's truth will shine like a brilliant aurora through all those that hear it in Sho'ghloz, our words.
I was there when the War of First Contact began. I am of the caste Marte'adi, guardians (3), sometimes called Duelists by my people; for we fought duels on the behalf of all others, forbidden to spill blood. It is a law of my people: only a Duelist can kill, and then only another Duelist. A member of the Sofi'adi, the Wise and Learned ones, had come into conflict with another of her kind (4) and asked me to duel a dear friend of mine, a rival, to settle the argument ve'lon ei ve'tie'dohd, for once and for ever. The four of us met, drinking Abzin and talking of how we would best duel: it was decided that we would undergo trial by starship, flying our Anda, our souls (5), and expressing our art in that way in a system on the edge of the space we lived in. It was agreed by all that it would be an honorable way to meet death.
We put on our masks (6) and tore rift to the star Zefad (Blade). We hailed each other to begin the duel, and the swords were drawn. Oh, what sparks did fly in service to our art! We curved the trace of a lotus petal, our flight was so precise. Despite our being masked, we saw each other, reaching out with our rapport (7) , targeting the waves of focus we found and letting fly with our geh'pilar ("disruption lances" or "disrupters"). Our defensive screens sparked purple flame, and soon both of our shields had been pierced with a hail of hyperspatial force.
That was when your people came. En'anda, coming in with all the subtlety of a braying donkey, on crude wings of solar flame; spouting blades of flame and light, four of your duelists struck us at once, and the fear you brought spilled over into our rapportation. We fought your fear, and defended ourselves; we fought as eagles do, with speed and stealth; but you fought as a crazed wolf, lashing out at all things, and struck my ally. In our state, wounded from our duel, we could do little to fight you. We fought well, and long, but it could not save my ally, graced with the name Auir'zefad, Sword of Gold. El'ben'ar dahl mi'tie'dohd (8). Still, it was a worthy battle; and the three pilots we honored with a warrior's death shall rest forever in peace as ash near the star Zefad (9).
So. I knew once Auir'zefad had fallen, that I could not fight; my armor was burned and dented from your flickering shining blades; so I ran, tearing rift, to the world of the one I championed. She greeted me with a smile, and bowed; until she saw I wore a face of death, and reached her rapport out to me, and saw great sadness.
"Were you the victor of my duel?" she asked.
"No one was the victor of our duel," I responded. "Our victory was wrenched from us. There are other duelists in the cosmos than those of our soul; and they fought us; and I could barely escape the death of a rash fledge to Guardianship, (10) and Auir'zefad fell, wounded by me and finished by the new ones."
She choked, and her eyes grew wide and turned to slits: and she reached out rapport, and grasped for falsehood in me with it; but she could find only truth in my soul, truth as pure and chill as snow, truth as true as that truth I tell you now.
"This is most grave, most serious," she said. "We must bring this news to the Council of Eighty-One (11) at speed."
I agreed, and offered the use of my ship; and she declined, saying as she was one of the Eighty-One that she had her own ship that moved at speed. Well, I feared that your kind might fight us even, and flew my own craft alongside her, making our way to Council space. We planned to meet with the representative of the Sofi'adi for the sector, a machinist known as Ambial (Melody) working on a refinement of the gravity-sharing drive (12). Because of the danger of working with such powerful forces, his station was far from the live worlds.
He never made it. You had already brought your bombs, your guns, and your fear to the station. I tried to destroy the ship that sent rippling waves of flame at Ambial's station, but to my great astonishment, my shots were absorbed fully into your shields. With a single bomb more, you brought death to Ambial and all on that station.
I gathered all survivors in the system and sped them through the rift with me. I dared not use our rift-gate, for you would then know it as a gate. We went straight to the council, and while they did not believe us, they ordered all Council Marte'adi to the space near our sector. When only nine of them remained, they took notice, and it was war ever since. We began to pursue you into your own space, to cripple your warriors before they could do harm, and we defended ourselves from your onslaughts, telling our Qaluf'adi, Forgers of all things, to make weapons of war for our ships.
That is the truth. It is the Qar'anda that harried us; it was the Qar'anda who forced us to lash at you with the warriors whip. It is the Qar'anda who spread slander of my people. Did they not say that we struck at your worlds? That is falsehood. To destroy those who cannot fight is anathema. We never bent down to your level, to fight those who cannot spill blood, and yet they call us bloodthirsty? These are lies. Trickery and deceit won the Qar'anda's war, let them usurp power from us with the blood of your people and mine. The time will come when zho'anda (Plural for "humans") will realize they have been cheated of their lives, and they will band with my people.
There is a saying among my kind Lon dazarr'as ben'a tahl. Du dazarr'as ben'a saj. (13) We have lost now, but mark me well.
When our second chance comes, we will not lose.
Footnotes: 1: Qar'anda, from the words for "Soul" and "Shard," is a pejorative name for humans. Literally it means Reducing to Shards-Souls: Incredibly, the Ng'anda believe that our lack of cultural homogeneity makes us somehow weak. It should be noted that there is another name for humans less insulting in nature: En'anda, or "Your soul," as separate from Sho'ng'anda, "Our shared soul." 2: In this instance, Sarq'eth seems to imply that only human commanders are qualified for the title of Soul-Breakers. 3: Marte'adi, literally "Those who defend," is a useful euphemism for what is actually a warrior caste. 4: It should be noted that Ng'anda-na does not specify gender with pronouns. 5: The Ng'anda, like most primitive warrior cultures, believe that a warriors weapon is their soul, thus the space fighters of the warrior caste are classified as Anda ve'marte'adi "Soul of the Guardians." 6: This is not to be taken literally. What we would call cloaking technology is referred to as a Geh'kamerr, literally a "hyperspace mask," by the Ng'anda. 7: Surprisingly, the Ng'anda seem to have empathic sense beyond human capabilities; by manipulating minute electromagnetic fields, they can receive an echo' of another sentient beings emotions. Anda'ng'as is their word for this power: "Sharing of Souls." The human word for this power is Rapportation,' but this translation is inadequate. 8: This is a traditional saying for a fallen comrade: "He shall be honored in all time." 9: Note the caviler manner in which she mentions the killing of three pilots, and contrast that with the grief over the death of Golden Blade. This is a common attribute of warlord cultures. 10: I.E., dying at the hands of a vastly superior enemy that you foolishly challenged. 11: The former governing body of Ng'anda space. 12: The Ng'anda form of propulsion is similar to our graviton inducers, but somehow uses the ambient gravity to manipulate course and heading. 13: Lit, "To lose once is an honor, to lose twice is a shame." Roughly the same as "Cheat me once, shame on you: cheat me twice, shame on me."
Please respond with comments and criticism.
(This message has been edited by moderator (edited 04-29-2002).)
I really liked it, particularly the background development of language(s) and cultural norms. Definitely a cut above the usual EV Chronicles fare. Is this modeled on the Polarans, the Vell-os, any other Nova race, or is your protagonist from an entirely new culture?
mamajama
------------------ My karma ran over your dogma. - bumper sticker
This is for a total conversion called The Ng'anda Chronicles. The Ng'anda are not from EVN, no matter how much you go coughauroranscough. They aren't even humans. Incedentally, if you accused them of being klingon ripoffs, they'd smile and say:
Mi'zikul ben'a mah'zikul ve'adro'anda zasfir'a.
Today is a good day for someone else to die.
------------------ Benarhtalh engan. >^_^< (url="http://"http://WWW.Ninjaburger.com")Ninjaburger.(/url) There in 30 minutes or we commit seppuku. A Stoir Moi Chroi. A plugin for EVN. "And Druid's feet will pace again/the mountians of my childhood..."