by Ben Hale
He’d failed his one chance to be Bloodwall, his one chance to become a true living weapon and escape the jaws of death. The crushing disappointment was more painful than all his wounds from the duel.
“For one so old, you are tenacious,” Quel said.
Reklin cracked an eye open and spotted Quel leaning against the door. The slashing wound across his stomach was no longer bleeding, and the injury had begun to knit, a talent possessed by perfect bodies.
“Your skill is superior to mine,” Reklin said.
He tried to keep the bitterness from his voice but did not succeed. Quel regarded him with unblinking eyes, and Reklin suddenly wanted to be gone, to return to his ship and leave Mylttium-3, as if an escape would erase the memory of his greatest failure.
“Bloodwalls have three ranks,” Quel said. “Did you know that?”
Reklin limped to his feet. “No.”
Quel pointed to the four marks dug into his horns, marking him as a Bloodwall. “Dakorians truly have seven ranks, but the top three can only be seen by the perfect eyes of another Bloodwall. It is a secret reserved for a chosen few, those chosen to join our ranks.”
The words sank into Reklin’s mind, and a touch of hope threaded into his disappointment. “Why tell me this?”
Quel almost smiled. “You are not the typical candidate to ascend to Bloodwall. You are old, you use a blade, and you lack the typical training of other Bloodwalls. But your clever mind cannot be denied.”
He reached to a sunderblade sheath, which leaned against the wall, and drew the blade. Reklin’s eyes widened when, instead of his broken blade, a glittering blade emerged from the sheath. The runes in the hilt, and the rod through the clear blade, both spoke to a powerful weapon. A blade lance. Very rare. Very powerful.
“A weapon befitting a Bloodwall.” Quel sheathed the blade and tossed it to him. “A promise of your new rank. I took the liberty of locating it while you enjoyed your little nap.”
Reklin admired the blade, excitement obscuring the still-lingering pain from the duel. He, son of Sheklin, had done what his father had not. He would become a Bloodwall. He straightened and reverently sheathed the blade before reaching up and placing the blade on his back.
“I am honored by your faith,” Reklin said.
Quel motioned in the direction of Reklin’s ship. “Your genesis chamber will take time to build, so you must complete a final task. Help Voice Malikin destroy the remnant of House Bright’Lor, and when you return, your genesis chamber will be waiting.”
Reklin’s excitement dimmed a little. Quel had said destroy, not investigate. Was that really Malikin’s purpose? To destroy an entire House? Kelindor had been a disaster, but not one worth destroying an entire House. Dragorn should be executed and the House allowed to survive.
“My House is being hunted,” Belgin had said.
“I take it you learned something of House Bright’Lor from Belgin?” Reklin asked, stalling.
Quel inclined his head. “Voice Malikin is still interrogating him, but we have learned that Belgin continued to watch his former House after his dismissal. We now believe that Ero and Skorn are trying to build a harvest world.”
“How?” Reklin tried not to let his pain show on his face. “From what I understand, House Bright’Lor lacks the glint for a ship, let alone a world.”
“Belgin either doesn’t know, or has yet to reveal, the details of Bright’Lor’s plans. Nevertheless, Ero and Skorn are trying to locate a stock of slaves and a world. We believe they recently stole a map of the outer rim.”
Reklin had seen the public vids of the theft, which had been leaked. The two yellow-eyed krey had yet to be identified. They had probably used identity modifiers to obscure their House affiliation.
“Even if they had a map, how would they acquire a world and a stock of slaves?” Reklin asked.
“Malikin believes they will fail, but Ero and Skorn are as cunning as any krey. If they are to succeed, they will need dakorians to keep their slaves in line.”
“You want me to get hired,” Reklin guessed.
The plan had merit and would position Reklin and his soldiers within House Bright’Lor. If Ero and Skorn were involved in their own Reckoning, House Bright’Lor would lose its last remaining strength, and they would either be executed or sent to Exile with their father.
It was also his next assignment, exactly as Belgin had predicted. Reklin wondered if he’d known or had just been guessing. Continuing to follow House Bright’Lor was unusual, but not technically outside his orders to “assist Malikin until the investigation into Bright’Lor is completed.” Still, Reklin could not shake the feeling that someone didn’t want justice. They wanted Bright’Lor exterminated.
If there was someone in power attempting to eradicate a House, their plans were highly illegal. The only way to identify them would be to accept the assignment and infiltrate the House. Then Reklin could root out the corruption on both sides, the person hunting them, and the crimes of the hunted.
“What are my orders?” he asked.
“You and your command are being sent to Dedliss, where you will enter the Bone Crucible as hornless,” Quel said.
The word landed heavy. Dakorians who demonstrated their cowardice or weakness, those who fled from combat or lacked any talent, were punished by the removal of their horns. They were despised and pitied, suitable for only slave work or being placed in the Bone Crucible, where they would fight until they died.
“You must garner Bright’Lor’s attention and accept a contract from Ero or Skorn. When their House falls, you will be given your genesis machine, and your horns will regrow on their own. Those in your command will be given an advancement in rank, as well as their pick of commands through the Empire.”
“And I will be Bloodwall.”
Quel inclined his head. “You will.”
Reklin’s smile spread across his face. “I accept the order.”
Quel advanced and drew a small hilt from a place at his hip. He activated the energy blade, the light energy hardening into a flat, sharpened edge. Then he advanced and placed the weapon on Reklin’s head, at the curve of his right horn.
“Are you certain?” Quel asked.
Reklin steeled himself for the pain and reminded himself it was part of the cost of becoming Bloodwall. One mission. One fight. And then he would attain the rank he’d dreamed of since training with his father.
“Do it.”
The blade sliced through the horn, severing the nerve endings protected by the bone. He’d sworn he would not cry out, but a bellow was ripped from his lips, and then the horn tumbled to his feet. A moment later, the second joined the first. The price of his ascension.
He paid it willingly.
Chapter Sixteen
Ero spent the rest of the day at the cages of Thendigor. He finally acquired several more slaves, all at a discount for a variety of defects. By the time he returned to his ship, he had eleven in tow. Considering House Bright’Lor was down to half a million glint, it was a small consolation. What would they do if the backup gravity drive went out? Or an airlock burst a seal? Or the bridge converter crystals burned out—again?
Ero wasn’t used to worrying about such trivial matters. When he’d been Primus, he’d simply ordered the slaves or the other krey to deal with issues and returned later to find the tasks completed.
“Where are we going?” the girl with the brand asked.
Ero opened the airlock to the Nova and gave the girl an appraising look. She still had the boy tucked against her side, and he was obviously terrified. The other slaves all hung back, sullen and looking at their feet. But the branded girl stood almost at Ero’s side, her head up, her eyes bright.
“Did your boldness earn you that brand?” Ero replied.
The girl fell silent, and Ero chuckled. Of course it did. Any fool could recognize why she had a brand, and it wasn’t because she was truly a ferox. The way she walked, with her chin higher than the other slaves, and her
eyes meeting his rather than dropping to the floor, both identified her as a slave with grit. She even lacked the fear that he’d come to see in slaves. Instead, her eyes conveyed only wariness.
“Have you ever met another branded slave?” Ero asked.
She shook her head, her eyes sparkling with sudden interest. Blue, he idly noticed, like his, only darker. The girl obviously wanted to ask but held herself in check. She’d probably been punished for questions in her previous House. The other slaves behind her shifted to avoid his gaze, probably fearful of punishment.
“I’ve met a few branded slaves,” Ero said. “They had escaped their Houses and tried to free other slaves.”
“What happened to them?” the girl asked.
“About what you would expect.” Ero shrugged. “Only more painful. The Empire doesn’t like rebellion, especially from its slaves.”
“I wasn’t trying to rebel.”
“Of course you weren’t.”
She flushed. “I wasn’t. I promise.”
“That’s what they all say.” He caught her eye. “Punishment is still the same.”
The young boy at the girl’s side shuddered and clung harder to her waist, as if she had the power to protect him. He watched her response, but she held him like she really could be his protector. Oddly, there was no hint of the usual resignation in the girl, and he found that intriguing. He’d never met a slave without fear.
Ero entered the Nova through the side hatch. He waited as the motley collection of slaves passed and then shut the airlock. Men, women, and the boy cast furtive looks about the ship, but again, the girl did not lower her eyes to the floor.
The slaves entered the ship and lined up in the corridor. “Wait here,” he said.
“As you order,” they murmured in unison.
“You, with me,” he said to the branded girl.
She whispered to the boy, who seemed to have grown attached, and he reluctantly let go. The gray-haired woman Ero had acquired with the pair put a comforting hand on the boy.
The branded girl followed him to the bridge, where Ero motioned her to stand in the doorway as he claimed the copilot’s seat. Skorn was in the pilot’s chair, activating the gravity drive and funneling power into the repulsors, pushing them away from the cages of Thendigor.
Skorn glanced at the girl and then back to Ero. “How many did you get?”
“Eleven.”
Skorn raised an eyebrow. “Please tell me our account is not in deficit.”
“I only spent a hundred thousand,” he replied.
Skorn frowned and his eyes flicked to the girl, sweeping across her clean clothing, her bad genome tattoo, and settling on the brand. The girl held his gaze, and Ero privately laughed. Even krey didn’t like to meet Skorn’s eyes.
“You did well,” Skorn said, obviously unconcerned about the brand. “They will fulfill our side of the agreement with Telik. You think he’ll come through with his end of the deal?”
The Nova glided past the sleek Ruath’Is ship, the hull so polished it reflected the side of the space station. Skorn gently pushed the engines, and they banked around an incoming vessel before angling toward the exit shield. Shields crackled as they passed into open space.
“He knows every slaver in the Empire.” Ero watched the holo form around the partial Heltorgreathian ship, making it appear like it was just another asteroid. “He’ll know how to get us a stock for a harvest world.”
“High Scientist Telik?” the girl said.
Both Skorn and Ero looked to the girl, and she flushed. Slaves were not supposed to speak without being spoken to, yet she stood, borderline fearless in the presence of her two new owners.
“You know him?” Ero was too amused to be angry, and his response seemed to embolden the girl.
“I heard he experimented on humans,” she replied.
“It’s been a long time since his fall from grace,” Skorn said, obviously annoyed at her interruption.
“Slaves talk through generations.” The girl shrugged like it didn’t matter.
Skorn turned back to the controls and redirected power into the Gate projector. Three rings formed in front of the ship, the swirling energy crackling in space. The Nova glided into the first Gate and jumped to them to hyperlight.
“You should get the other slaves into quarters.” Skorn spoke to Ero and didn’t look at the girl again. “I don’t want them running around the ship without supervision. If they touch the wrong thing, the drive could fail.”
“There’s too many to fit in the slave quarters,” Ero said.
“Then put them in the cargo hold.”
“What if they have engineering training?”
Skorn jerked his head. “I don’t care. Just put them into the lower compartments and put them to work. We’ll reach our meeting coordinates in a few days.”
“We’re not taking a Gate?”
Skorn jerked his head. “While you were in Thendigor, Telik sent a message. He already moved his station and doesn’t want to give us the coordinates.”
Ero chuckled and stood. “He’s the most paranoid krey I’ve ever met.”
“We’re meeting close to a moon in the Segilion system. I’ll let you know when we’re close.”
“Any word from Dragorn?”
“He thinks he found a suitable world.”
Skorn brushed a symbol and activated the central hologram, bringing up an image of a blue-and-green world with a single moon. A few continents, nice balance of ocean to earth. It was beautiful, and Ero passed his finger across holo, expanding the details. Skorn leaned back in his seat and motioned to the world.
“As you can see, it’s perfect,” Skorn said.
“Already terraformed?” Ero asked.
“No. Natural atmosphere, ideal distance from its sun. Oxygen rich and balanced ecosystem.”
“It looks like Kelindor before the Dark,” Ero said. “Estimate on undeveloped value?”
“Five hundred trillion glint,” Skorn said. “At least.”
Ero was impressed. Empty worlds of rock or ice usually sold for a hundred trillion glint on the open market. After the sale, new owners used grav stations to tow the world to a more hospitable distance from the sun, which added to the cost. If they had to be terraformed to create an atmosphere, that could easily cost another twenty trillion. But a world that already possessed breathable atmosphere, moderate temperatures, and water? This world was rare and extremely valuable.
“Why is it unoccupied?” Ero asked.
“The initial survey by the Empire found several types of indigenous life,” Skorn said. “One of which was sentient.”
“Sentient?” Ero raised an eyebrow. “It’s been a few millennia since a world had sentient life. What type?”
“The type that ate half the survey team.”
Ero grinned at the image of krey fleeing from large creatures. A handful of other planets had possessed sentient life, and they were all different. The Empire, for all its faults, required that such specimens be preserved for study. Ruath’Is had converted a series of moons around their primary planet into habitats for creatures from every corner of the Empire. The sentient creatures acted as keepers for the moons and maintained the life that Ruath’Is sought to preserve. Ero would have thought the effort benevolent, if Ruath’Is didn’t charge a premium for krey to visit the moons.
“Why would a premium world with sentient life be suitable for us?” Ero asked.
Skorn leaned back and pointed to the hologram. “The discovery was two hundred thousand years ago.”
“That long?” Ero leaned in with interest. “I take it the species was never catalogued and examined, or Ruath’Is would have already built a new habitat.”
“The House that owned the world was destroyed by House Fren’iVen, who acquired their assets. It seems the initial record exists, but House Fren’iVen doesn’t know it owns the world. The Empire thinks they do.”
Ero realized what his brother was implying. “So if w
e remove it from both their records, it will be like it never existed. And it’s been so long that no one will remember.”
“Exactly,” Skorn said.
“How can the Krey Empire just lose an entire world?” the girl asked.
Ero had completely forgotten she was still standing there and swiveled to face her. She shifted her feet and her eyes flicked to his wrist, where the cortex crystal was linked to her slave earring. Skorn even reached for his holoview, but Ero caught his shoulder and shook his head.
“No need,” Ero said. “She’s just curious.”
“Curiosity got her a brand,” Skorn replied.
Ero leaned back and folded his arms. “I bet it wasn’t curiosity.”
Skorn regarded him with irritation. “I bet it was.”
“I’ll wager five percent of what we get from the harvest world that she got her brand for an act of defiance.”
Skorn raised an eyebrow at the bet. Five percent would be in the trillions of glint, and much more, if the humans were augmented in some way. But of course, Skorn didn’t know that part of the plan.
Skorn shrugged and swept a hand to the girl. “I don’t mind taking your money.”
Ero pointed to the girl. “How’d you get the brand?”
Her eyes flicked to the door. She obviously regretted speaking, and Skorn’s hand was still close to his holoview. In her entire life, she’d probably never had a conversation with a krey as she was now.
Ero had liked his slaves in the years before House Bright’Lor had fallen. Three females and a male, all caring for his personal quarters. He couldn’t remember their names, of course, but who could? A slave was a slave.
The girl fidgeted in place. “I’d rather not say.”
“You won’t be punished,” Ero assured her. “Now tell the truth and earn me a few trillion glint.”
Skorn frowned but agreed. “As he said, you will not be punished.”
The girl hesitated, and then abruptly she straightened. “I dumped a pouch of roak entrails on my owner.”