How the? Xalen’s mind was still trying to figure out how such a small cube could have taken the shape of an orange handgun ten times its size, when Junia unloaded shot after shot at point-blank range into the Dearg.
The orange blaster shots bounced off the mask and flew into the nearby trees, burning a clear slash mark in the trunk where they landed.
Junia’s fiery red eyes widened ever so slightly.
The clawed hand of the Dearg came up, swatting the Feehan aside like a mild pest. A cloud of dust and grass rose from the forest floor as Junia rolled across it. Before she came to a stop, she shot up in a backflip, landing gracefully on her feet.
The creature, flashing two uneven lines of sharp teeth, scurried toward Xalen once more. Its speed was staggering. But even more staggering was the speed of the sensei. Her feet barely touched the ground as she dashed to intercept the Dearg.
Junia leapt in the air, her small frame ramming into the Dearg’s chest. Xalen looked on in awe. Despite the monster’s size, the loud crack of bones shattering reverberated through the air, followed by the Dearg crumpling to the ground with a loud whine.
There was, however, no time to celebrate. While laid out, the Dearg’s tongue shot out at its adversary. Still looking rather bored, Junia moved to the left, then to the right. The long tongue snaked under her, leaving a path of repugnant-smelling drool in its wake. The Feehan flipped forwards over the slimy attack. When she landed, she slapped her bracelet with her right hand. Two cubes came loose. While still in mid-air, they connected, erupting into a massive cannon that had to be five times heavier than its handler and just as long.
Despite the size, Junia effortlessly hefted the gargantuan cannon over her shoulder.
Finding its fighting spirit once more, the Dearg stood. It dashed behind a tree, barely dodging a thick wave of energy that Junia shot at it. The energy wave crashed into a tree, blasting its trunk into a thousand pieces and sending the top of the tree crashing to the forest floor. The ground shook.
The tremble was what Xalen needed to snap out of his stupor. He opened and closed his eyes as the sensei jumped from branch to branch, firing shot after shot at the enemy below. Amazingly, despite its injury, the Dearg was managing to dodge the attacks. But each one was hit closer to its mark, and the Dearg’s breath was growing heavier with each feint. Junia, on the other hand, was breathing slowly, almost as if she were enjoying a relaxing nap back at Zizor.
C’mon, Xalen’s inner voice urged. This is what you wanted. Are you just going to stand back, cowering while a Dearg makes an attempt on your life? Breathing heavily, Xalen unsheathed his sword. The metallic sound revitalized his resolve.
Yet, despite his newfound determination, he found himself unable to move toward the Dearg. Junia was bombarding the forest with so much firepower, that he was afraid he might be caught in the crossfire if he were to rush in. He would have to wait for an opening.
He didn’t have to wait long. The Dearg, eyeing him with hateful eyes, made one more desperate attempt at him.
That’s right, mused Xalen. Run in a straight line so that the sensei has a clear shot at you.
“G’t out of the way, you fool!” came the shout from above.
Xalen had barely enough time to register Junia’s curse when he noticed the blinding light coming from the Dearg’s mouth. No. Not light. Energy shot!
A wave of green came from above, cleaving the creature’s neck. The Dearg’s head flew off, but not before a crimson ray of energy from its innards made its way to Xalen. The young Alioth brought up his sword in a defensive position. Most of the attack, however, made it past the weapon and slammed into his chest. The young Alioth fell to the forest floor, heaving loudly.
A second later, Sensei Barteau landed beside him with a soft thump. She was looking down at Xalen’s chest with a face of both curiosity and admiration.
Xalen’s eyes traveled to his chest, which was now glowing a bright red with the energy it had absorbed.
“I…I…” stammered Xalen. “I’m not a monster. It’s just my heart. It can absorb—”
“Don’t b’ther,” said the Feehan, the red in her eyes was gone, replaced by a bright yellow. “There’s no need in e’splaining what is o’vious.” She scratched her pale chin. “What I don’t understand is the Dearg’s beh’vior.”
“What do you mean?” asked Xalen, not liking the dread in Junia’s tone.
“Dearg’s are v’cious creatures, known to skin their prey alive before feasting on their flesh.” She leaned toward him. “This Dearg, however, was not aiming to kill. It w’nted to capture.”
“Febron mentioned that you had killed more Deargs than any other Alioth. It’s only natural that it would go after you,” said Xalen, not seeing anything strange in the Dearg’s actions.
“It wasn’t try to capture me,” said the Feehan. “It w’nted you.”
Chapter 8
Beatrix exited the ship the same way she had passed most of the long trek through space: quietly.
At first glance, Beatrix hadn’t seen the hatch hidden in the frozen plain. But after the ship had descended, the hatch (which looked like a frozen lake) opened, revealing an underground path to a base.
Now that the ship had landed on an old docking bay, and its door had opened, she wasn’t entirely sure she had made the right choice by coming here. Sure they were pirates, but she had expected a bit … more. The docking bay looked ancient. She suspected that it might had belonged to an imperial army or maybe even a Mordered colony centuries ago. Whatever greatness the structure had once possessed, however, was now long gone. Exposed wires protruded from the walls. Wooden crates and sacks of rations were unevenly piled in the corner of the cargo bay. The few ships that were docked in the rusted hangars looked to be decades old. Their hulls were battered and in many places still wore the signs of blaster fire. Even the few people who straggled along looked as dirty and grimy as the ships they tended to.
“What’s wrong, princess?” asked Jesemiah, taking notice of Beatrix’s grimace. “Not exactly up to your standards?”
“Jesemiah,” called Gavin calmly. “Go underground. Inform Sophic of our arrival. Have her get everything ready for the meeting.”
“But, sir …” said Jesemiah, the color draining from his pompous face. “Sophic doesn’t like to be disturbed by anyone who isn’t you. The last time somebody went down to her study, they ended up with a laser shot through the forehead. Perhaps it might be better if you yourself speak to her.”
“Are you questioning my order?” Gavin’s gaze travelled to Jesemiah, whose lips trembled slightly as he dropped his head.
“No … no, sir. Of course not. I will go to Sophic immediately.” He turned, and still trembling slightly, headed towards an elevator at the end of the docking bay.
“This Sophic must be really something, if she can get someone like Jesemiah so riled,” said Beatrix. Part of her was glad to see the man so scared. Served him right for frightening her people back at the ship. My people! The image of her mother washed over her, followed by her pained wails as Beatrix left her behind.
“Sophic can be hard to deal with, but she’s capable. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t be my second in command.”
Beatrix forced the thought of her mother from her mind. “I didn’t know that pirates valued order so highly.”
The man smiled, making Beatrix’s knees weaken again. “We value people who don’t stand aside as injustices are being committed. We value people who will stand up to the powers to be, and make it clear that they will not cower as they take our rights.”
His words hit her hard, stirring the fighting spirit that dwelled within her; the fighting spirit that her father had kindled within her since before she could even form words.
“I see that in you,” he continued, eyeing her sword. “You’re someone who is not willing to allow injustice to go unchecked.”
Beatrix took one last look at her surroundings, noticing for the first time that everyone
mechanic around her was the same race as her: human. Now that she thought about it, all the pirates that had held up the Bastion ship had been human as well. She gulped loudly. Suddenly, pirates didn’t seem like the proper word to refer to them.
Gavin’s next words confirmed her suspicion. “I see you figured out,” he said. His smile remained intact. “We’re not pirates. We’re human freedom fighters, or as some people have come to know us, the Black Sanction.”
ΩΩΩ
Beatrix’s insides turned glacial. Her stomach twisted, and remained locked in that place for what seemed an eternity. Her breathing grew raspy. Finally, after a few moments of searching, her voice found her throat. “You’re not just criminals, you’re all cold-blooded killers.”
“Killers? Says who?”
“Says everyone!”
“And who exactly is everyone, huh? Is it the news that’s on your datapad, the same news that’s controlled by the Bastion? Or is it the word of mouth of alien races? The alien races who are angry at the progress that humanity has experienced since the purge of Yashvir?”
“Yes, actually,” said Beatrix. She realized, that indeed, all the information she’d gotten on the Black Sanction had come from either sources directly connected to the Bastion or from non-human races.
“Now do you see the truth?” muttered Gavin.
Beatrix wasn’t done, though. “How about the recent bombing of the Bastion embassy on Likarta? Thousands of innocent civilians died when the space elevator came crashing down atop of them. They had nothing to do with what the Bastion were doing. These were poor women and children simply trying to feed their families, and you Black Sanction bastards brought steel and metal down on them.”
“What happened at Lourdes was unfortunate, but we had nothing to do with what occurred in that poor planet. If you want to find a culprit for that attack, look no further than the Bastion. They are the ones responsible.”
“Responsible!” Beatrix’s voice rose. “That is a lie, and you know it. The Alioths themselves conducted an investigation. They found that the Black Sanction was responsible.” She met Gavin’s eyes. Amazingly, he didn’t look away in shame. Instead he stared her down with absolute confidence. “If it means dealing a blow to the Bastion, you bastards don’t care how many innocent lives you take.” She reached for the hilt of her sword.
Gavin smiled. His voice was suave and charismatic. “Why would you believe anything the Alioths have to say? They’re nothing but the dogs of the Bastion, doing their master’s bidding, no matter how evil the task asked of them is.” He met her gaze, and Beatrix saw a calm sadness in his eyes. “For them, destroying an entire city of innocents was as easy as going out to brunch.”
Beatrix narrowed her gaze. “You think the Bastion ordered the attack on Lourdes?”
“No. I don’t think. I know.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Actually, it makes perfect sense. The Bastion needed to distract the masses. Many of the governing bodies from the planets in the Noble Ring were beginning to question their treatment of prisoners. Surely you recall the large coverages and investigations that were being conducted by news stations all over the galaxy?”
Beatrix wrinkled her forehead. Indeed, she did remember a tremendous fuss being made over the treatment of prisoners in many Bastion prisons, especially Calanthe Keep, a prison on the small moon of Andersonville which had been torturing captured members of the Black Sanction for information. Beatrix could still hear the newscaster’s shrill voice, and her green lips trembling as she relayed story after story of the horrors that have been unearthed at Calanthe Keep.
‘Sources say that guards would strip the prisoners completely naked and throw them together in a room, where they would proceed to release large, wild cats. The cats would only be called off when there were a handful of survivors remaining. The remaining survivors would then be fed, piece-by-piece to the animals, unless they revealed Black Sanction secrets.’ The news lady then glared at the screen, appealing to her viewers. ‘Is this the kind of society we have become? A society that has resorted to the barbaric tactics employed by the very group we are trying to put an end to.’
“Your face tells me everything,” said Gavin. “You know full well that my words are true. You witnessed first-hand the injustices the Bastion are capable of back on Palek. They took your land, all the while keeping their robbery a secret from the galaxy.” A low ring pierced the air, followed by the opening of the elevator door. Gavin walked in, and Beatrix found herself following him, eager to find out more. The elevator descended. “On Lourdes the Alioths were ordered to bomb their own embassy in order to draw attention away from the Bastion’s tactics. For them, the murder of all those innocents was worth it as long as their dirty secrets are forgotten.” The door opened. They walked out into a large, oval room. Besides the white walls and clear tile floors, it was completely empty. A dozen paths spread out to different parts of the bunker. Gavin took the path the farthest to the right, and they continued descending, trekking through an earthy-smelling cave.
“Everything you’re telling me, considering it is true, sounds like highly classified information. How could you possibly have access to it?”
Gavin moved toward a door in the distance. Like many other things in the underground cave, it looked old and dusty. The wood panels were chipped in countless places. The silver handle had rusted to a dull brown. He took hold of it and opened the door, revealing a long, seemingly endless room that stretched out as far as the eye could see. “I was once an Alioth. Not just any Alioth, mind you. I was in Gentry class. Only six other Alioths have ever reached that rank. My position allowed me to see things that disgusted me. Allowed me witness just how corrupt the Bastion and Alioths really were.” He forced a smile. “I wasn’t the only one that was disgusted by what I saw. It took years, but I created a network of informants within the Bastion. They are my eyes and ears into the Bastion’s actions. It is through them that I was able to find out what was happening in Palek.”
Beatrix inhaled deeply, allowing the thick, damp air to settle into her lungs. As she breathed, a sudden fire kindled in her chest. Gavin was a good man, she saw that now. He had abandoned a prestigious, well-paid position to live his life hidden away in caves like a criminal. And now, she too, had been thrown out of those green plains where she had hunted as a child. Robbed of teaching her sons and daughters how to set traps. Forever barred from sitting under the stars, and explaining to her children and grandchildren how each earned its name.
“This is our training grounds.” Throughout the domed room, there were countless people sparring with one another within white lines drawn in the sand. Some dueled with swords, but most were metaton users who shot powerful blasts of energy at one another. Gavin’s voice rose over the high screeches of blaster shots and the grunts and puffs of battle. “I understand if you’re too tired to fight now, maybe a bit of rest in our other chamber will do you some—”
“No,” she interrupted. “The Bastion is not resting, so neither will I.”
The Black Sanction leader smiled again, a real, charming smile that spoke of his approval.
“I will destroy them all and get my home back,” declared Beatrix. She drew her sword. “I will begin by eliminating the dogs of the Bastion. The Alioths!”
ΩΩΩ
“Are you certain?” asked Nandi. “I’ve never heard of a Dearg going after any one person. Usually they simply attack a town or city. To actually single out somebody and go after them, that simply doesn’t happen.” She took a bite out of her breaded sausage. “I’m not sure I believe it.”
They were sitting side by side in the dining room along with hundreds of other students. Despite the large number of people around them, they were completely alone. No one spoke to them or even bothered to look their way. Xalen suspected it had to do with the fact that Nandi was with him. She was the only Mordered in the entire dojo after all, and considering what Reave had told him, he wasn’t entirely
sure he blamed them for not talking to her. Her race was exceedingly brutal, after all. That, and they were full of traitors.
Xalen, however, wasn’t exactly in a position to be turning away friends, despite their questionable motives.
“Well, you better start believing it. Sensei Bartiu was—”
“Barteau.”
“Yes, yes. Same thing. Sensei Barte…a…u was there. She’s the one who noticed the Dearg’s intentions.”
Nandi crumbled her ball of bread, sprinkling the crumbles over her white soup. “Then I would say, you were very fortunate the sensei was there.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning exactly what I said. How many people do you know who could have taken on a Dearg single-handedly in close combat?”
Xalen remained quiet.
“C’mon, Whiz Spark,” Nandi continued, taking a gulp of her soup and loudly savoring the taste. From time to time a student would shoot a disapproving glance at Nandi, not that she seemed to care. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”
The young male smiled. “I don’t know where you got that idea from.” For the first time, he picked up his bowl and took a sip of the white gunk. The paste caught on the roof of his mouth, making it harder to get the salted taste out of his mouth. “But I suppose you’re right. I froze during the attack.”
“You what?”
“I froze,” he confessed, feeling embarrassed. “I always thought that I would be the first to step up in a battle, but I was wrong.”
“Don’t worry about it. All you need is some training.”
“Training? How is that going to help?”
“Easy. The reason you froze was because you had no skills. You can read all the books you want, but without actual training it’s worthless.”
Xalen nodded. “I guess you may have a point.”
“May have?” Her voice grew high. “Of course I have a point.” She pointed at the sword that hung from his waist. “That’s a mighty fine sword, but without the proper training, it’s worthless. How could you have been expected to show any kind of confidence against a Dearg if you have zero idea how to handle your own weapon?”
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