Thrax remained stoic in the face of this repeated threat against Agena. He gave no reaction, not even a frown, as Vendass and his comrade and the two armed androids led him off. But in his mind, he looked over his captors carefully, guessing where all the nerves and arteries must be on the Scodax and where all the vital components and functions must be on the automatons; assessing where he would strike, if he could, to do the maximum damage and ensure death or terminal shutdown. Depending on what unfolded, he might have his chance.
The aliens led him to a large, open chamber at whose far end was a portal that occupied an entire wall. Thrax guessed that this must have been originally intended as a cargo bay or perhaps a docking bay for the Scodax attack craft. Armed androids were stationed in two corners of the space and at either end of a row of tiered seats.
In the viewport of that portal, Thrax saw a view of the most populous continent of Lacerta, where Silverwing was. Seeing his home outside the port reminded him of the other cause for which he would do battle today. If these creatures truly believed they could humble Lacerta and its Knights, the wrath of dragons would teach them better.
Thrax turned his attention to the row of tiered seats that took up one side of the chamber, where members of the Scodax crew sat watching. Thrax noted that it was not the kind of bustling throng that had attended the Lottery back in Silverwing where he was paired with Agena. If their Captain were truly going to do battle with a dragon, the ship’s crew should have turned out by the hundreds, not the dozens.
Conceivably, the majority of the crew could not leave their stations and would be watching remotely from other parts of the ship. That was logical. And yet, Thrax could not help but suspect that the sparse attendance of this duel must mean something else. The thought gnawed at his mind that there was some critical thing about the Scodax that he did not know, which would make all the difference in the battle against them.
From the fact that he could not see it, he guessed it was something as obvious as it was important. The obvious things were always the easiest to overlook.
Vendass ordered Thrax to stand at a spot near the center of the chamber. He and the other officer moved off to take places at the head of the seating. The two androids marched to one side of the space and took positions on either side of a door. The door slid open and out stepped Amlax, dressed in only the bottom of his uniform. Thrax could barely hide his disgust at this creature, not only for the harm he had done to Lacerta and his threat against Agena’s life, but for the mere sight of him. His cracked gray skin, the feature he shared in common with all the other Scodax that Thrax had seen, made him look as if he were turning to a fossil while still alive.
And at this, the Knight began to wonder. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes with a glimmer of realization. Perhaps he actually had been looking into the face of the truth from the moment he first set eyes on Amlax. There must be a reason for their condition—and that could well be why so few of them were present now.
Amlax strode toward the center of the chamber and took a position a few paces in front of Thrax. “Sir Thrax Helmer of Lacerta,” he said in a ceremonial tone, “you now face me, Amlax, Captain of the Scodax Armada, in a duel to establish Scodax supremacy. You will battle well and be treated as an honored foe upon your defeat. Thus, we return to you your weapon.”
At the sound of metal footfalls behind him, Thrax turned and saw two more androids entering the chamber, one carrying Thrax’s powerblade and the other carrying a long, thick metallic staff. In spite of his discipline, Thrax’s heart raced at the sight of his weapon. He’d be dealing justice with it today. The android marched up to Thrax and extended the weapon for him to take. Thrax took it from the automaton’s hand and let it march off to the door through which it came.
The other new arrival walked to Amlax and handed him the metal staff. When the alien Captain took this object from it, the automaton marched away to join its companion. Amlax announced, “We shall energize weapons and begin at the sound of the clarion. Weapons shall be set at moderate charge, strong enough to immobilize, not to slay. When you fall, Sir Knight, you will live to serve the Scodax.”
Thrax spoke up: “Amlax, before we begin, have I the right to speak as an honored foe?”
At this, a bustling murmur welled up from the seated spectators, the first sound that Thrax had heard from them since he arrived. It was the noise of hoots and whoops from a crowd excited by sport, eager to see two combatants land blows and strike pain into each other, anxious to see one fall and one stand triumphant. It sickened Thrax a bit, but he’d be damned if he would let them see the way he felt. He was a Knight, not a gladiator.
Amlax nodded. “Speak, Sir Knight, and know that we are now being seen and heard across the face of Lacerta.”
Of that I have no doubt, Thrax quietly acknowledged. Aloud, he said, “Amlax, I ask you to put an end to this pointless charade. As a Knight, I know that there is no honor in a battle needlessly fought, in pain needlessly inflicted, blood needlessly spilled. For all the horror that you have brought to my world, the people of Lacerta may still be willing to sit and talk, to learn more about you. We may still be willing to learn of your origins, your needs, and your reasons for doing as you do. There may still be time and opportunity to reach an understanding. Tell me that we may all lay down our weapons on both sides, put aside the violence, and talk to one another. Is this not a better course than needless, costly conflict?”
Thrax was speaking now not only to Amlax himself, but to his suspicions about the aliens. He was all but certain that what he suspected was true. All that he, and all of Lacerta, needed was the chance to talk to these beings and find the truth. It was the truth, Thrax was sure, that would end this nightmare. All that was needed was for Amlax to see reason.
A hush fell over the chamber as quickly as the noise from the spectators had welled up. The seated Scodax intently watched their leader, waiting for his reply. Amlax listened to Thrax’s plea. He took a deep breath, his chest and shoulders rising, the cracks in his skin spreading and contracting. At last, he answered.
“Sir Thrax Helmer, you comport yourself as a true Knight and a noble opponent. When you fall in submission, we shall take pride in your service to the Scodax. Change your form and charge your weapon. The duel begins.”
A deep, loud, blaring tone reverberated through the chamber. Thrax’s heart felt both heavy and set aflame. There would be no stopping this now, no avoiding what he must now do. He had no intention of either falling or submitting. And if he must end the life of this creature who had rebuffed his one appeal to reason, so be it. He turned his body from man to dragon, extending neck and horns, turning man-flesh to scales, and unfurling wings and tail. He activated his weapon, and it unfettered its gleaming blade.
With a heavy hiss, Sir Thrax Helmer stood ready for combat. As he watched, Amlax touched a place off the center of his staff, and either end of the staff produced a glowing dagger of energy. If Thrax still had human features, he would have smiled at the challenge of a double-bladed energy weapon. It should make Amlax twice the threat and give him twice the satisfaction of taking the alien down.
Dragon Knight and alien Captain raised weapons and lunged forward, and the battle was joined with streaks of light from blade and staff.
Of all the battles he had faced in his years in the Knighthood, this was one that Thrax did not relish. He was convinced now that something was not right about Captain Amlax. In all likelihood, this being was sick and infirm in some way; he may not even be in his right mind and had no business in combat.
There would be no honor in striking down such a foe. He only wished that Amlax had listened to reason. All that was left now was to find some way to defeat the alien Captain as quickly and bloodlessly as possible. Go for his weapon, Thrax thought. Render him defenseless and urge him to stand down. That’s the most merciful way.
Thrax lifted his powerblade high with both hands, goading Amlax into doing exactly what the dragon wanted him to do
. The alien thrust his staff out length-wise to block Thrax’s downward swing. Yes! Cut the staff in two or strike it from his hands! Thrax brought down his glowing sword hard onto the metallic length of Amlax’s weapon. The energy blade striking the metal made a horrible hiss and a cascade of sparks. Thrax held the blade against the weapon, bearing down, trying to bite into the metal. The sparks flew furiously. Amlax thrust his weapon upward against the force that Thrax brought to bear against it.
The two opponents were almost frozen in place, pushing their weapons against one another, until with a roar, Amlax pushed up harder, forcing Thrax backward and away. The dragon man flew and somersaulted back with wings tucked, coming out of his spin and landing on both feet just as Amlax had at him with a swing of one of the glowing hot ends of his weapon. Thrax lunged backward again and met Amlax’s next thrust with a parry, knocking it to one side.
Amlax swung again, and Thrax met him with yet another parry. One thrust and one block followed another, with neither foe gaining the upper hand. They were both intent on bringing the other low, and almost oblivious of the rising shouts and calls from the seats, where the spectators leaned forward, shaking fists and urging their Captain onward.
There had to be an end to this, Thrax realized. Sooner or later, Amlax, in his condition, must tire of this, but he did not know how long it would take to wear him down. He had to find another way. Amid a series of further thrusts and blocks, Thrax seized upon another idea. At Amlax’s next thrust, the dragon spun away to one side, letting the glowing end of Amlax’s staff pass through empty space. He then battered down hard against Amlax’s staff, knocking it toward the floor while at the same time lashing out with his tail to catch Amlax under the knee of one leg. He coiled his tail around Amlax’s leg and gave a sudden, hard yank, spilling Amlax onto his back on the floor of the chamber.
Having his adversary prone on the floor, Thrax moved fast. He leaped up with wings stretched upright and raised his powerblade like a spear. He needed only drive the energy blade through one part of the alien’s body where there were no vital organs. He would not strike to kill. He would strike to injure, just enough to end the battle without taking Amlax’s life. He came down with blade pointed—but shockingly, Amlax was ready for him.
As Thrax descended upon him, the Scodax Captain slashed out sideways with his staff, catching Thrax on one hip and sending him spilling and sprawling off to one side. He rolled onto the floor and lay there, stunned, long enough for Amlax to clamber to his feet.
Thrax had a dull pain in his side where Amlax had hit him. His armor skin had protected him from the worst of the blow from the energy dagger, but it still hurt, and he had to collect his wits and his senses before Amlax made good on his resolve to defeat and humble him. He heard the alien’s footsteps coming closer and rolled onto his back to find Amlax towering over him with his weapon raised like a club. With a sharp intake of air, Thrax rolled away. The staff whooshed through the air and connected with one of Thrax’s wings.
The dragon man hissed and screeched loudly. His wings had no armor, and the hot shock of the energy blade seared at the leathery flesh of his wing. Thrax could not afford to take another blow like that. He scrambled to his feet, painfully tucking his wings, and met Amlax in a standoff
Amlax moved in again, and their battle became another dance of lunges and parries, thrusts and blocks. Thrax hissed at his foe and bared his fangs, defying the ache in his hip and the burning sore on his wing. Amlax kept lunging, and Thrax kept blocking, until Thrax took another tactic. He lashed out with his tail again, this time sending the scaly appendage unfurling upward to connect with Amlax’s staff and wrap around it in a constricting grip.
Amlax bellowed in protest, pulling and wrestling to pry the weapon from the dragon’s grasp. Good, Thrax thought. Keep grappling with my tail and leave me enough of an opening… And while Amlax struggled furiously with Thrax’s tail, the Knight again lifted his blade like a spear—and drove it hard and deep into Amlax’s shoulder.
The sword of energy sank into Amlax’s shoulder with a hiss almost as awful as that of a dragon. Amlax shrieked an inhuman cry and pulled back hard against the grip of Thrax’s tail. Thrax pulled the blade from the alien’s shoulder and unwrapped his tail. He leapt back, ready to make another stab at his pained, maddened foe. Amlax staggered away, making a furious rumbling sound, and toppled onto the floor, dropping his weapon and clutching at his wounded shoulder, bellowing with rage.
The spectators jumped to their feet. Thrax divided his attention between the fallen Amlax and the members of his crew, certain that the lot of them would now come charging from their seats at him, bracing himself to slash and hack his way through an oncoming wave of livid Scodax bent on avenging their Captain.
That was when the ship’s clarion sounded again, and everyone in the chamber froze, confused. The shouts and roars of the Scodax suddenly cut off as they eyed one another and their fallen Captain, who even now was starting to pull himself up from the floor, clutching at his shoulder. A disembodied voice from unseen speakers echoed in the chamber: “Armada self-destruct is engaged. Destruct in ten alyews and counting…”
Now the voices raised again, this time filled with shock and dismay. Thrax eyed Amlax as the alien Captain found his footing again and saw him as shocked as his crew. The Knight was not sure what was happening. Did that voice actually say, “Self-destruct”?
Amlax bellowed out more loudly than ever, “What madness is this? Who gave the order for self-destruct? Report at once!”
Vendass stepped down from the seats and joined his Captain. The third-in-command was touching and watching a device on the sleeve of his uniform that fed holographic symbols and pictures into the air. “Captain,” he said in a dire voice, “the self-destruct command was fed into one of the optical ports. It is the irreversible self-destruct code in case of capture of a Scodax vessel. And, Captain, there is more. Look…”
At a touch from Vendass, a series of holo-images large enough for everyone in the chamber blossomed into the air. Before the disbelieving eyes of the Scodax, it showed the corridors of the ship filled with androids battling fully-armed Knights and Corps of Lacerta. Energy bolts flew, and powerblades swung in every direction. Bodies went flying and falling. It was a total, all-consuming melee.
Through clenched teeth, Amlax rumbled, “What is the meaning of this? Where is my second? Where is Venar?”
Gravely, Vendass replied, “Commander Venar has been found unconscious in a conference room with two decapitated androids.”
Now seething and murderous, Amlax faced Thrax. “You filthy son of a traua! What have your miserable people done?”
“I can’t guess,” said Thrax. “But your time grows short.”
“And yours grows shorter!” the alien Captain roared, lunging forward at the dragon.
Thrax reacted instantly. In his mindless fit of wrath, Amlax had failed to pick up his weapon again. It was now only a maddened and unarmed Captain against an armed dragon Knight. As he’d done before, Thrax spun away from Amlax’s charge, but this time, as Amlax lunged into the space where Thrax had been, the Knight brought down the hard, blunt hilt of his blade directly onto the base of the back of Amlax’s neck. With a deep, heavy sound like a gulp of air in reverse, the Captain of the Scodax careened onto the floor and crumpled there, motionless.
Seeing his Captain laid low, Vendass bared his teeth and raised his hands to Thrax with fingers clenched. He clearly intended to seize the dragon Knight by the throat and choke him to death where he stood. Snarling, “You vicious, presumptuous, bestial pounit…” He advanced on Thrax—and the dragon man nimbly swiveled his powerblade around and presented its glowing point to Vendass, stopping him in his tracks.
Holding Vendass at blade point, Thrax suggested, “I should think that at the moment, you’d have more pressing concerns than my trouncing your Captain.”
Vendass snarled incoherently and backed away from Thrax. Casting his gaze at the seats, Thrax wonder
ed again whether he would have to offer his blade to Vendass’ crew mates. The other Scodax stood in a mix of confusion, wrath, and fear. Then, the sound of the door sliding open made them all turn to face it.
Into the chamber poured a charging group of nine armored Lacertans with powerblades at the ready. At their lead was Meline, and with her, a woman carrying a bolt rifle. Thrax swiveled his dragon neck to see the new arrivals and blinked his dragon eyes at the armed figure at Meline’s side. For a moment, he could not reconcile the woman he had come to know so well with the woman running into the chamber with the dragons, not until she called his name.
Agena cried, “Thrax!”
She broke into a run for him and flung her free arm around him, little caring that she was embracing his dragon shape. Thrax likewise threw his free arm around her, utterly perplexed but relieved in spite of it all that she was unharmed.
Agena parted the embrace and looked into his dragon features. He was the handsomest dragon and the most welcome sight ever to greet her eyes. Thrax asked, “Agena, what have you been doing?”
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