Brent's pudgy fingers scratched at the shaggy blond hair on his head. "Are you certain of this, Boss? A kid?"
"Positive," Truce nodded, turning to the scanning terminal. "But tell the men to beware. The boy is the son of Eaisan Lurei, and he possesses the same cunning talent as his father."
The Kyrosen finally nodded acceptance as he removed the communicator from his belt. "As you wish, Boss." He spoke into the device as he raced back toward the door, his thick legs moving as fast as could be expected for a man of his build. "Attention all Kyrosen, I have orders from the Boss. A young man named Vultrel Lurei has been sighted on level . . ." His voice faded through the door.
Truce clenched his teeth and pounded the top of the terminal with his fist in frustration. "I can be just as foolish as my enemies, sometimes," he muttered. "No matter. With my men spreading across this ship like a plague, it won't be long before that child is in shackles, pleading for his life at my feet."
*******
Kitreena watched as Arus wiped fresh blood from his sword for what seemed like the millionth time before he moved to join her in the lift. It was clear that he hadn't gotten used to killing just yet, though admittedly she wished she could share that feeling. The fact that she was able to murder soldiers, regardless of their allegiance, without hesitation or remorse was something of which she was both proud and ashamed. While it was true that the men she killed were criminals that posed a danger to the peaceful races of the universe, it didn't change the fact that they were people, men and women with lives and families and hopes and dreams. If she could give them second chances, she probably wouldn't, but in her heart she knew they deserved it. Everyone did. It was a conflict of emotion and morality that had been raging inside of her since the day she'd met Arus.
The ride in the lift was silent; neither enjoyed what they were doing. There was satisfaction in knowing that their actions were helping to save millions of innocent lives, but any joy that might have come from that eroded away with each killing stroke. The preservation of life was the driving force behind everything the Aeden Alliance did, yet the pursuit of that had seen many lives ended in the process. It was a tragic irony that could not be helped. Negotiations were certainly not an option. Damien had been trying to talk his brother away from the path he'd chosen for hundreds of years without success. And now, with the Blade of Kaleo twisting his mind, no amount of reason would ever get through to him.
The two stepped onto the next deck cautiously, weapons drawn and ears alert. The halls on this level stood several paces higher than on the previous floors. Kitreena could hear far more than Arus could, but nothing seemed to indicate any enemy soldiers within a considerable radius. When she activated the door to the first room, she was greeted by a mix of neatly stacked and lazily piled crates. "Storage," she muttered, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Damien said that he and Doman already checked the storage levels, didn't they?"
Arus nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the end of the corridor. "Yes. They didn't anything useful."
Kitreena backed away from the door to let it close. "Then I doubt we'll find different. Anything on your scanners?"
"Looks like a few scattered patrolmen," he said, pointing to the left. "Around that corner and past a split in the hall. There are also several readings coming from one of the larger rooms near the center of the level."
"I wonder what they're looking for." There was certainly no shortage of weaponry across the ship. Every corpse carried at least a pistol, and most guards were also equipped with rifles. "Rations? Energy cells?"
Arus shrugged. "I suppose those laser rifles won't last forever. The probably need to recharge. Either way, there is nothing on this floor of value to us."
"Right," she agreed, turning back toward the lift. "We'll move onto the next level and—" A voice perked her ears, so faint that it took her a few moments to realize that it had come from the distant corridors. Arus hadn't heard it, of course; his ears weren't as sensitive as her own. It was the voice that had haunted her memories for years, terrorizing her dreams until they became nightmares. How or why he'd come to the Black Eagle, she couldn't fathom, but the fact that he was here was enough to make her alter their plans. She looked over her shoulder toward the end of the hallway with a grin of excitement.
"What is it?" Arus asked, following her eyes. "What do you see?"
"Not see," he responded. "Hear. I hear him."
Arus scrunched his eyebrows. "Who?"
"F'Ledro."
Before he could say anything, she was off, tracking the sound of the Kyrosen's voice like an animal following the scent of its prey. Each foot touched the floor just long enough to push off again, propelling her down the corridor in a streak of blue. Arus' boots echoed behind her, indicating that he'd either decided to come along or intended to stop her. He said nothing, which seemed to suggest that he had no objections, but then he had proven to be difficult to read in the past. Do you intend to stand in my way? You know what must be done, don't you?
His response was clear as crystal, though not quite what she'd hoped to hear. I know what must be done. He must be arrested and handed over to the people of Aerianna—your people—for sentencing.
"Are you mad?" she asked aloud without looking back. "What if he escapes or—"
She nearly ran over a small Vezulian soldier as he exited a washroom. Beady eyes widened at the sight of her, and he grabbed for the pistol at his side. Kitreena pulled her whip back as she ran past, preparing to snap the weapon from the man's hand, but Arus beat her to him, bringing the hilt of his own weapon down on his head with a dull clunk. The soldier's eyes rolled back as he fell to the floor. The two never stopped running.
"Kitreena, killing F'Ledro will not solve your problems," Arus called to her. "It won't get rid of your pain, and it won't help to quell your anger."
"We've killed so many soldiers already," she countered. "What's one more?"
"Those men forced us to kill them in self-defense. If any had given us the chance to take them into custody, I would've jumped on it."
"And what if F'Ledro forces us to kill him?"
"What if he doesn't?"
She twisted her lips in frustration. "F'Ledro would never surrender to us, Arus. He may be a coward, but he's still a Kyrosen."
"That's not for you to decide, Kit," he told her as they rounded another corner. Vezulian lasers streaked toward them, but Arus' sensors had already picked them up. There were three soldiers at the far end of the hall, rifles firing a continuous stream of shots. Arus leapt in front of her with a flash of his blade, deflecting each shot with precision only a machine could duplicate. They came up on the enemy soldiers quickly, and his boot knocked the first to the ground while careful snaps from Kitreena's whip swept the legs of the other two away. They slipped past the fallen men and continued running, pausing for nothing until she had tracked the voice to its origin.
They came to a long section of the hall where there was but a single door, wide enough for large cargo to be loaded and tall enough that Damien would have had to stand on his own shoulders three times before he'd be within reach of the top. Not surprisingly, it was guarded by two Kyrosen. A swift punch from Arus' artificial arm took one down while Kitreena's whip lashed against the other's face. He dropped to the floor, clutching his head in agony. Arus opened the doors, and they quietly entered the enormous storage room. A large stack of titanium cases stood more than halfway toward the ceiling just a few paces away. Arus and Kitreena crouched against them with their backs pressed to the cold metal and listened.
Immediately, F'Ledro's voice filled Kitreena's ears, though he was somewhere to the distant right. "Who was that?" he asked. He was nearly whispering, but Kitreena could hear every word. "Jenkin, go find out who just opened the doors." Footsteps followed. Footsteps that seemed to be drawing nearer.
"Arus, this way," Kitreena whispered, motioning for him to follow her to the left side of the cargo stack. Around the corner, the black garb of a Kyrosen's back appeared briefly
before vanishing behind the far side. He hadn't looked to be armed, but then again, Kyrosen were skilled users of magic. They were always armed. "How many men are in here?"
"Four," Arus replied. "It looks like there are two patrols and two men together in the far right corner."
"One of those two is F'Ledro," she told him. "His voice is coming from that direction."
"Let me take point," he said, returning his sword to its sheath. "There are several cargo stacks between us, and I can navigate through them without crossing paths with either of the patrolmen."
Kitreena agreed and followed him quietly, weaving in an out of crates and boxes and stacks marked with a variety of labels that listed everything from food and clothing to weapons and other assorted munitions. He paused multiple times, no doubt in response to the movements of the Kyrosen, but it was never long before they were on the move again, making their way toward the far end of the room. Solid black shelves of metal lined the rear wall, each topped with an assortment of small cases and crates. Some were opened and overturned, and a variety of electronic gadgets and pieces were scattered about, suggesting that someone had been rummaging through the supplies in a frantic search.
It wasn't until Arus noted that they were closing in on F'Ledro and his unknown comrade that a voice shouted out over the expanse of the storage room. "The guards are down! Someone has infiltrated the area! We may have an intruder in our midst!"
He spared Kitreena an uneasy look. "I suppose we should've expected that. We have to move quickly."
They rounded another corner and crawled past a pile of large satchels filled with grain, passed two more stacks of wooden crates, these piled three high so that they barely reached above Arus' head, and made one more turn before Arus raised a hand. "They're around the corner," he whispered.
F'Ledro's words were clear as crystal now, as were his companion's. "I'm telling you, we've got to get out of here and come back when it is safer! I have no intentions of letting myself be taken prisoner by Kindel Thorus!"
"Hey, I think I've found them! Here they are!" That was the second voice. Olock's voice. "Great, then let's get moving. The sooner we're out of here, the better."
Olock seemed to be in no hurry to flee. "Would you relax? We're Kyrosen. We can handle a few Vezulian dogs."
Kitreena couldn't stop herself. She jumped around the corner, cracking her whip in the process, and snarled, "What about an Aeden tiger?"
Olock looked up from the small black case in his hands and frowned, looking neither startled nor afraid. F'Ledro stood a few paces away beside a waist-high crate of wood. His skin made paper seem colorful. "Y-You? How did you get here?"
Arus stepped out beside her, and Olock's complexion suddenly matched F'Ledro's. "If the two of you surrender to us now, no harm will come to you," the young man told them. "I cannot guarantee the same should you try to run."
Despite the obvious fear in his face, Olock tucked the case under his arm and spoke with the steady voice of a nobleman. "Kyrosen do not surrender," he said plainly. "I would think that you, of all people, would know this, Arus."
"And I would think that you would know what I am capable of," Arus responded just as calmly. "Give it up, Olock. Anything other than surrender will likely end with your deaths." As much as she didn't to admit it, that suggestion made Kitreena's heart leap.
Olock tilted his head and smiled in his own twisted way. "You think I don't remember? You and I have dueled before, back in your village. You had trouble keeping up, and I wasn't even showing you a quarter of what I am capable of. In a real duel between us, I would tear you limb from limb."
Kitreena ground her teeth. "I would love to see—"
Arus' sword appeared inches from her face as F'Ledro's weapon fired, and a burst of sparks showered over her. Had the boy's blade been stopped a fraction higher, the laser surely would've killed her. That set Kitreena's blood ablaze, and she morphed with a scream that shook the walls and rattled the floor. Her body was encompassed by a blanket of white, pale hair billowing behind her like a raging inferno. Crimson light outlined her form, and she could feel that strange pain of the energy surging through her, a sensation that was both thrilling and exhausting. As Damien had predicted, the transformation seemed to be easier this time. Briefly, she thought that she might finally be learning to control her emotions, but as soon as her gaze focused on F'Ledro, she knew that was anything but true. She very nearly dashed forward to tear his throat out when two voices from behind stopped her.
"Freeze! Stay right where you are!"
Without even turning around, she knew it was the other two Kyrosen. Kitreena tilted her head just far enough to make eye contact with Arus, who nodded. They are about four or five paces behind us, his voice told her. A smile formed on her lips, though it was likely shrouded by the white light surrounding her body. Together, they lunged backward as they turned, Arus swinging his sword and Kitreena hurling a streak of white-hot flame. Both Kyrosen dropped to avoid the attacks and responded with fiery blasts of their own. This time it was Kitreena's turn to protect Arus, and though she wasn't sure how she did it, she extended her energy in a sphere around them both, absorbing the Kyrosen's fireballs before they could find their targets. Then, with a bone-chilling roar, she threw her hands forward, channeling the energy from the shield along her arms and into her palms where it exploded in two streaks of oozing green light that threw the Kyrosen soldiers into the air. Their bodies crashed through a stack of wooden crates, burying both in mess of wood and splinters.
"They're running." Arus said with a sigh.
His statement didn't click in her mind until she turned around. F'Ledro and Olock were gone, presumably having climbed over the heavy black cases on the right. Arus sheathed his sword and motioned for her to follow him as he began weaving his way back toward the main entrance. They arrived just as the doors closed, and that meant that they were only a few seconds behind. Outside, the two Kyrosen guards had seemingly gone with Olock and F'Ledro. They were nowhere to be found.
"Where are they headed?" she asked, her voice firm and calm.
"The lift, by the looks of it," he replied. "If they've found whatever it was that they were looking for, then they're likely on their way to the hangar bay. I'm not going to let them get away. Whatever they're up to, it can't be good for anyone but Truce. If we can capture them, he'll be without his most trusted officers. Come on, we don't have much time."
And Arus wasted none of it, darting down the hall as fast as his boots could carry him. Kitreena kept up easily, though the energy she held in her morphed state threatened to overwhelm her. While the act of Morphing had been a bit easier, controlling the power seemed as difficult as ever. No matter. Once I kill F'Ledro, I'll be able to let go of the anger, and my hatred won't control me anymore.
Do you really think it will be that easy? Arus' voice drifted through her mind.
You don't understand, she responded. I have to avenge my parents. If I don't, it will be like I don't care that F'Ledro murdered—
Arus came to a sudden halt. "I don't understand?" he asked, turning his head halfway toward her. "Truce's father killed mine. And Truce forced me to kill my mentor, a man who was more like a father to me rather than just a teacher. Believe me, Kitreena, I understand. There is a part of me that would like nothing more than to see Truce die slowly, sliced apart by my blade inch by inch from the toes upward until he is no more. Trust me, Kit. I know how it feels. But I can't allow those feelings to overwhelm me. If I do, I am no different than them. No different from Truce, from F'Ledro, and from Kindel Thorus. I would be a heartless murderer acting on my own selfish desires rather than the noble warrior that my father and Master Eaisan taught me to be. And I'd do anything to keep from being like the very people we are struggling against. I'd sooner die than become one of them."
He did not wait for a reply, though Kitreena was not sure that she could give one. As much as his words made sense, the burning rage that drove the energy which coursed throu
gh her veins was borne of anger and hate. No amount of reasoning could ease the turmoil, and her sole desire was to spill F'Ledro's blood. And if Arus tries to stand in my way, I'll kill him, too.
A jolt of fear ran through her at that thought. It was just as she had feared; the strain of Morphing was once again distorting her perception of right and wrong. No! No, he is not the enemy! she told herself over and over again. He is on my side! He's trying to help me! He cares about me!
If he cares so much, then why does he stand in the way of what will make you happy?
The internal struggle continued as she followed Arus down the hall, her two sides arguing silently as her anger fought to maintain its dominance over her growing desire to better herself. She felt as though she was drowning in her own pain, her throat gripped tightly by her relentless hatred. And as much as she knew what she needed to do—or not do, rather—turning her back on something she'd dreamed of for so many years was not a simple as flipping a switch. Once he's dead, it will be easier for me to change my perception of life.
This time, it was Arus' voice that responded to the thought. Yet F'Ledro will be dead. What about his life? Does that not matter to you?
Admittedly, the very concept of caring about F'Ledro's life made her stomach churn. The weasel didn't care about the lives of my parents. The Kyrosen don't care about any of the lives they end.
That's why you must be different. Even in her mind, his voice was soft and compassionate. Show them what it means to have mercy. Treat them as you would've wanted them to treat your parents.
That prompted Kitreena to reply aloud. "Why do you care so much about F'Ledro's life? What is so important about him that he must be allowed to live?"
"Not just his life," Arus told her. "Every life must be treated with equal respect. Every life is special, something that can never be regained once lost. Look at Muert. He, just like F'Ledro, is a Kyrosen man who grew up under the callous rule of the Truce family. Yet deep inside, Muert still knows right from wrong. Everyone does; it is a code of morality that is written on the hearts of every one of the Maker's sentient creations. F'Ledro's got it, too. He's just got to learn to listen to it."
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