Eres’ humor was like Eres cooking: simple, tasteless, and abundant.
“Are you a man or are you a child?” Fars asked when I got out and then he slapped both his knees while almost choking on laughter.
“Not funny, Fars.”
He shrugged it off and remained silent, giggling all the while until we sat down to eat something.
“Hey, can you even raise a spoon with that tiny arm of yours?” he asked in the cantina as Brown literally came out his nose. Most commonly, though, he would just say a single thing: “What a small arm you have, Richard Stavos.” It would get him chuckling like a schoolgirl for minutes on end.
Luckily, he had sense enough to stop when I told him we had to go visit Vogron before he made another invitation. You didn’t want Vogron to ask you twice for something, as you wouldn’t live to be asked a third time.
We walked up to the highest tiers of the prison where Vogron had established his little kingdom. The farther up you went in the prison floors, the fewer different alien species you saw. On the fifth floor, it was almost solely grey, angry-looking Jareet with Vogron’s brand on their chest.
Vogron was standing in the middle of his oversized cell handling a garmak corpse like a butcher at a table. His four hands were covered in blood as he took a small knife to the greenish creature and skinned it with both force and precision. There were three Jareet goons around him, all impressive examples of their species. They were as tall as Fars, and I dared say more muscular than him, though those words should never be uttered in his presence. None of them came even close to the presence of Vogron himself, though. He wasn’t just the leader of the Jareet on Xan because he was a high-ranking official before imprisonment, he was the leader because he eclipsed everyone with his sheer size and strength.
Vogron checked us from the corner of his eye but said nothing as he continued to work on the corpse, which was probably the Jareets’ dinner and courtesy of his position in Xan. We stood there for a while, waiting to be addressed. I knew Fars was getting more pissed off by the second, but he did a good job of holding it in. Better than most anyway.
He hated the Jareet more than any other species in the Partak Sector. I think he saw the opposite of what the Eres stood for in Jareet culture. The Eres saw war as an opportunity for glory and honor, when the Jareet saw it as an opportunity for more opportunities.
“Why did you make me wait, Stavos?” Vogron said without moving his sight from the corpse.
“I fought in the meantime.”
Vogron pulled at the garmak’s leg and cracked the thigh bone with a twist as blood sprayed his face.
“You’ve been pushing it lately,” he said and turned to look into my eyes.
“I wasn’t trying to offend you,” I answered diplomatically. “Things happen.”
“Get out,” Vogron ordered and almost spat the words. I looked up at Fars but he just shook his head. We were saved when the three other Jareet walked out of the cell without a word, and I finally realized who he had meant. This was interesting. Vogron had something just for our ears and it was too much for even his closest henchmen.
“What are your plans with the warden?” he asked calmly, still holding contact with my eyes.
There we go, I thought. Vogron probably knew everything there was to know about our meeting, and the question was how Vogron would complicate our lives with this information.
“We’re just his bodyguards. We don’t really do anything but stand around and look dangerous. Or as dangerous as we can anyway.”
Vogron stabbed the skinning knife between the ribs of the garmak and left it there. He took a piece of cloth and wiped his hands before he addressed us again.
“Sit down,” he said, gesturing to one of the beds, and we obliged. After all, who were we to deny his request? His power was almost as large as the warden’s in here.
“Did you overhear anything interesting, anything that would be interesting to me in particular?”
That was a tough question. There were plenty of things that would be interesting to Vogron from our meeting with the Frey commander, but I was pretty sure Vogron knew most of it anyway. There was no point in lying, though, so I told him what I had heard leaving Mitto’s help out of the story. He listened carefully and slowly nodded his head several times, never trying to interrupt me. He was a rather cultured swine if I ever saw one.
“So it is as I expected,” he muttered as I finished up the last part of the story. “When is your next meeting with the warden?”
“I honestly don’t know. He never said when we’d meet up again, and considering he hasn’t called us in yet, we might not even go up with him anymore.”
“Oh, he’ll call you, I’m sure of it. But when he does, you’ll do something for me, Stavos. In your next meeting with the warden, I want you to kill him, the Frey commander, and most importantly, the Greth and the Jareet.”
I looked at Fars and he was just as puzzled as I was. I knew Vogron was a player for the Jareet Commissariat, who was in Xan for a series of corruption charges. He still had a lot of friends in high places and they used Vogron to grease up some of the work they did in Xan, especially around the Sulan Games. I had no idea he would act directly against the Commissariat’s wishes like this. I underestimated Vogron, a mistake many corpses before me had done. Luckily, we still had a chance to get out of the trap he laid out for us.
“What could you possibly get from this?” I asked. Shit, I just had to ask. Me and my loudmouth. Vogron just grunted and focused on my eyes as the Jareet always did to signal dominance before he spoke again.
“The alliance with the Aloi must not take place.” I raised an eyebrow at this. “The Aloi shouldn’t be trusted any more than the Federation, as the Jareet can only lose in such a deal. And to work with the Greth… It’s below us. The Grand Marshal of the Jareet Commissariat has grown weak in his greed. This is not the way for the Jareet to survive, Stavos. We will never be slaves to another master.”
The last words he said looking at Fars as if to mock his race for aligning with the Ka and Imminy. Sure, there was some truth in that statement, but the Ka were so far above us that they might as well have been gods.
I pondered his words for several seconds. Though the news was completely surprising, they still folded neatly into my bigger scheme and that’s why I didn’t push back too hard.
“What do I get from this?” I said, feigning the stereotypical opportunistic prisoner. “The whole sector will be on our asses. There’s only death for us in your plan.”
Vogron stared at me in confusion as if to say, of course there’s only death for you, so what? This wasn’t a request; it was an order. If I failed to comply, I’d be dead within minutes upon returning to Xan.
“The Commissariat will know it was your order.”
“And Jareet-kind will thank me for it sooner or later.”
“Fine, we’ll do it, but the least you can do is tell me why.”
Vogron grunted again and stood up. “We’ve been a slave race for longer than we’ve been a free people. The Pras, may hell take their name, have tinkered with our genes to create the perfect soldiers and workers for centuries. They have abused us in ways your race can’t even imagine. We have erased the Pras from the universe for this. Our ancestors didn’t free us so we can be the Aloi’s dogs now. That is what’s at stake here, Stavos. I can’t send my own men up there, as the Commissariat would be too suspicious, but you can, and you will.” His face grew dark and menacing.
“I have one request,” I said, cutting into the tension.
Vogron’s eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”
“I need you to get the Nameless out of the Sulan Games.”
Vogron looked at me suspiciously for a second but decided to ask the question anyway. “Why? What does he matter to you?”
“We need him up there and I don’t want to meet him in the arena, nor do I want him to die there. Get him disqualified on a technicality or something, I know you have the
means for it.”
“Consider it done, Stavos.”
Fars looked at me in shock. He knew nothing of my plan, and I preferred to keep it that way. His mouth was often quicker than his brains, especially while on snapp. I didn’t like keeping him in the dark but there was no other way.
When we left Vogron’s place, I had to listen to him lament over how I took away the Nameless’ opportunity for honor, and how if I had done it to him he’d end me and how I work in clandestine ways, and how that is such a human thing to do, something an Eres would never be capable of. He kept talking about it all the way to the 40th floor where we went to meet the Shia wavemaster, our second prison boss of the day.
The 40th floor was something different entirely. Swarms of Shia roamed the area, and in a way, they looked like a herd of cattle. The stench was excruciating. The Shia cared little for hygiene. They never washed themselves with water, and instead, they rinsed each other clean with that disgusting gelatinous stuff that comes out from the tip of their stinger.
“Welcome, Richard Stavos and Fars An’chet. I’m pleased to have you as guests today,” Wavemaster Kabish said as we entered his cell.
Dozens of Shia flapped their wings around us or just sat like ducks on the floor. It always amazed me how primitive these creatures seemed considering how dangerously intelligent they were. Kabish didn’t look any different from the rest of his species except for an enlarged head with a protrusion in the back that went down his spine. Wavemasters served as information hubs for the Shia pseudo-collective mind or the Neurocracy as they called it.
“I’m flattered, great Wavemaster,” I replied.
“I’m so glad you’re here. Really, I’m jubilant, honestly.”
The Shia tried to sound pleasant, but they severely lacked the manners of individualistic races and their façade was very transparent. Only Shia that lived outside of Neurocracies could truly adapt to the other species of the galaxy.
“Yes, we’re very happy to be here in a friendly discussion,” I said flatly. “What do you want, Kabish?”
Unlike Vogron, Kabish wasn’t much of a physical threat. He didn’t have the power that Vogron had in Xan, but he had the numbers. There were a billion Shia on Xan, and even if it took a breath to kill each, you’d be suffocating by the end of the day trying to defeat them. Still, I was already under Vogron’s orders and whatever Kabish now wanted was irrelevant to me.
“We hear you met with the warden. You heard the sector is joining the Aloi. You are the warden’s bodyguard, hm? Right? Yes?”
“Yes. What’s it to you, Kabish?”
“We have great admiration for Warden Rinslo. Great admiration.”
Another Shia hurriedly added, almost as if a back vocal singer.
“Great admiration, great admiration,” and two more repeated the same words.
“We know you know about it all. We know you know the Shia support this. We want the Partak joined with the Aloi.” Six more Shia repeated the last words like an echo. “But we know some don’t want it, some like Vogron.”
How the hell did Kabish know all this was beyond me. The Shia’s intelligence service was working overtime apparently, and not just that. Vogron’s place was mostly devoid of any Shia, so how did he manage to get his hands on the info?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said grimly. These were dangerous waters we were treading on, and I didn’t like it at all. One wrong word or move, and we wouldn’t be getting out of there.
“No lying, Richard Stavos. Friends tell each other everything.” I wondered where the hell he picked that phrase up. “Vogron wants you to kill the diplomats, wants it all to crumble. The Neurocracy wants Vogron dead.”
“Since when does the Neurocracy stand on the side with the Aloi?” I couldn’t help myself.
This was treason of the highest order and someone—the warden must have put him up to it. At least that was my thought on the matter from the very limited amount of information I had.
“The Shia stand for the Shia,” Kabish answered calmly as if that truth was self-evident.
I knew the Shia didn’t care about agreements, honor, or respect. They didn’t care about the Federation, but neither did they care about the Aloi. They only thought about themselves and in this galaxy, you couldn’t really hold it against them either.
“You can’t possibly expect me to kill Vogron. I’d have the entire Jareet population on Xan on my back. I’d be a dead man.”
“Yes, but you have a slimer. He can make it help look like an accident.” He meant Mitto and he was right. With Mitto’s help, any death could look accidental. “You make Vogron dead and the Neurocracy makes Xan very good for Richard Stavos and his friends.”
I looked at Fars, who was very grumpy. Two meetings in a day and he didn’t have a say in either. Not that it bothered him; he had no taste for all this scheming, but it chipped at his honor, and I knew it wouldn’t take much more until he snapped.
“And if I decline?”
“The Neurocracy will make Xan very bad for Richard Stavos and his friends,” the wavemaster said in an equally calm motion. That was straightforward and expected.
“Fine, we’ll do it. But I have one request.” Kabish, now visibly even more enthusiastic, opened his skinny arms in a gesture of goodwill. “I want the Nameless to win his next fight in the Games.”
The Shia blinked several times in quick succession as if he was downloading the information I just gave him.
“Why?” the wavemaster asked curiously. To him it didn’t make any sense, and to be honest, neither did it make much sense to me as well.
“Does it matter to you?”
He blinked again several times. “No.”
“Then just do it and I’ll take care of Vogron. Do we have a deal, Wavemaster?”
“We have a deal,” Kabish said and the rest of the Shia kept repeating the sentence even after we were out the cell door. I had a lot to think about and I wasn’t looking forward to it at all.
“What devious schemes does your human brain weave, Bloodmancer?” Fars finally asked when we got back to our cell. “We work for both the Jareet and Shia, and yet I feel we work for neither. This isn’t the way of the Eres. Betrayal, scheming, backstabbing. It disgusts me.”
“I know,” I said. I didn’t like it either, but until I found a way out, this was the way to go.
“I fight for you, Stavos.”
“I know you do.”
“And you promised me I won’t have to dishonor myself in your service.”
“I did. And you won’t have to, Fars. Just give me some time, all right?”
“When you came to Xan, you gave me another opportunity to redeem my past. Yet now I feel my redemption comes at a price that is too steep.”
“What is it that you crave the most, Fars?”
He was taken aback by this question, waiting several long seconds to answer. “To be Fars’kri once again in the eyes of my brethren.”
“And you can only do that if we survive, isn’t that true?”
“Yes,” he said questioningly.
“The only way you will ever be able to do this is if we leave this place, Fars. Either dead or alive, and if I have to choose death, it will be on my own terms. There’s no dishonor in lying to Vogron and Kabish. They themselves have no honor, you said it yourself.”
“You twist the meaning of honor,” Fars said, and I wanted to slap him for it.
“What will you do if we meet in the arena, Fars?”
“I will kill you.”
“Exactly. We both knew how all of this would end. Either we died in the arena by the hand of our enemies or we died by each other’s hand.”
“And I can’t wait for us to finally meet in battle, my friend.”
I sighed to Fars’ disapproval.
“There’s a bigger battle than ours out there. One that requires more than just courage and a willingness to die. It’s easy to die for honor, but we have to live for it. I want to le
ave this place, Fars, leave it and live.”
Fars was again silent for a while. He was sulking silently in his anger to put it better.
“And how is the great Master Technomancer going to do this?” he finally asked.
“With your help, with Mitto’s help, and—”
“Don’t say it!”
I gave him the biggest shit-eating grin I could muster and said the one thing he didn’t want to hear: “The Nameless’ help.”
It felt as if what followed next played out in slow motion. Fars growled and shot to his feet, twirled around, and hammered his fist into the wall, leaving a hole in it.
“Damn you, Richard Stavos!”
A Mortian guard immediately knocked on our cell and I had to de-escalate the situation with a small bribe, so I got up and handed him some creds.
“My place is in the arena! My mind is in the arena, and my honor is in the arena!”
“Your place is where I tell you it is!” I finally snapped.
Fars looked at me as if he was going to tear my throat out. I got up to my feet and stared him down, which wasn’t easy since he was a head taller than I was. Still, I knew better than to show submission before an Eres.
“You’ve been in Xan for too long, Fars! You forgot there’s a whole race of Eres battling their hearts out against the Aloi. Dying daily to protect the lives of billions and all you can think of is the fucking arena! If the Partak Sector joins the Aloi, what do you think will happen in the Ulyx Cluster? How many dead Eres soldiers will be on your consciousness? It’s easy to preach honor when your hands are tied, but it’s much harder when you have a choice!” I took in a deep breath and let it all out slowly as I tried to calm myself as well. “And you have a choice, so what is it going to be? Your brethren, or the cheers of Greth and Jareet as you kill another victim for their entertainment?”
Fars started to trash around the cell again. I didn’t stop him, and in a way, it was his thinking process. He cursed me, the Federation, the Aloi, the warden, the Nameless, Vogron, and Kabish. He called me a traitor, a weakling, and then he apologized, called me names again, then apologized again, and finally crashed on the bed.
Redeemer: A Military Space Opera Series (War Undying Book 2) Page 7