“Of course, any agreement with your guild will include an oath of silence from you and your crew regarding every aspect of this battle, most especially our weapons capabilities and resources.” Allistor warned the creature, who promptly focused on the ground in front of his feet.
“That is standard, highness. I was simply admiring your Stronghold. It is… unusually well prepared for being on a newly acquired world. We were not warned to expect such effective resistance.”
“Then I would suggest that whoever sent you didn’t intend for you to win. This was a probe, to test my defenses. Or maybe to test my resolve. I would have done the same thing if I were in a VR game preparing an attack on another guild. Send a few suicide scouts in to assess defenses and get a layout for me.” Allistor spoke without even thinking, surprising himself. Then another thought struck him. “Or maybe this is a test to see whether I’d let you surrender. And whether I let you live. If I ransom you back, will that be considered weakness? Or if I execute you all for killing my people, will I be considered a ruthless savage?”
After a long pause, Gralen growled. “Indeed.”
Allistor continued. “The big difference here is that this is not one of my VR games. My suicide scouts, if they were caught and killed, could simply respawn and relay all the information they’d gathered. You and your crew were apparently sent to your deaths. That’s just cold.”
This time Gralen didn’t speak at all, just growled.
Allistor led him inside the main building and into the nearest room with a table. Gralen waited for him to sit first, then Harmon, before taking a seat himself.
“Okay, let me start by saying that, obviously, this is my first time in this situation. As you pointed out, we are only a few days out of our Stabilization period. The only other force that attacked my people were killed in battle, have been executed, or are about to be used as sea monster bait.” Allistor added that last bit in just to shock the mercenary.
“I see. Then let me say I appreciate your mercy up to this point. And the honorable manner in which you have interacted with us.”
Allistor looked at Harmon. “Want to handle this for me? I’ll watch and learn.”
Harmon chuckled. “It is really quite simple. Gralen, what price will the Dark Hearts pay for you and your men?”
Gralen didn’t need to think it over. “One million klax for each fighter. Two million each for non-commissioned officers, of which nine remain. Five million each for myself and the two remaining officers.”
Allistor did the math quickly. “I didn’t get a complete count of your remaining crew, but I put that somewhere around one hundred seventy-five million klax.” Gralen nodded.
Allistor looked at Harmon. “And the ship?”
Harmon looked embarrassed. “The guild would pay considerably more for the ship. My apologies, Gralen.”
Gralen shrugged. “You simply speak the truth. Even damaged as it is, the ship is worth five times the value my guild puts on the lives of my crew.”
“Anything else I should know?” Allistor asked Harmon. Surprisingly, Gralen spoke first.
“If you do not wish to ransom us back, it is well within your rights to execute us for the deaths of your citizens. It would bring you no dishonor in the eyes of my crew, or our guild. I cannot speak to how the various factions would view that action. Certainly some would approve, others would not.” He paused, noticing that his hands were twitching. He laid them both flat on the table in front of him.
“Alternately, you could demand our service for a period equal to the time it would take us to earn our life-debt at the rate of our normal salaries. For my crew, that would be approximately two years. Three years for my officers and I. We would become system-bound to follow your orders, protect you and yours, including your property, with our own lives. Any intentional violation would result in our immediate deaths.”
The language he used made Allistor want to clarify. “So, you’re sworn to me. I send you to fight, and you fail like you did today. If you did your best, you still live. But if you slack off, you die?”
Gralen took a moment to consider before answering. “If I understand the term ‘slack off’ correctly, then yes. If we do less than our utmost to execute your orders, the system will claim our lives.” Gralen sighed, folding his hands together.
“And there is yet another option, which I am honor bound to disclose. You could sell us. Either on the slave market, or to a competing guild. There are several guilds who would gladly pay much more than my own guild for the opportunity to publicly humiliate and then execute us. It would be a serious blow to the Dark Hearts’ reputation, and a reputation boost for our executioners.”
Allistor felt sick. “That’s… that’s just…”
“Business.” Harmon cut him off, giving him a significant look.
Not getting the point, but realizing that his friend wanted to steer him away from what he’d been about to say, he changed the subject.
“Harmon, tell me about the Dark Hearts.”
“An old guild, and one of the more powerful. They adhere strictly to their code of honor, which is equal to my own in most aspects. They have never turned on a client for a better reward that I am aware of. They very rarely fail to complete a commission. When I say very rarely, I mean once in a century or two. When they learn of this defeat, and the poor intelligence they were given,” He paused to look at Gralen. “Which I will be sure to inform them of personally.” he said before looking back to Allistor. “They will likely be extremely upset with the client who sent Gralen and his crew here. I expect there will be negative repercussions for that individual. Honor goes both ways when one is dealing with mercenary guilds. While they are willing to send volunteers on suicide missions that have been disclosed as such, they do not take kindly to being grossly misled.”
Once again he looked at Gralen. “I strongly suspect that Gralen’s Captain and crew are not ones that would be wasted on a suicide mission.”
Gralen smiled grimly, and nodded.
“As I was saying. The Dark Hearts are honorable. They only hire combat veterans who have proven themselves, and tend to recruit heavily from what they consider inferior races.”
Allistor interrupted. “Let me guess. The guild masters or officers or whatever… they’re elves?”
“Just so.” Harmon agreed. “The one fault I would find with Dark Hearts is that they regularly accept contracts where losses are expected to be heavy. They charge exorbitant fees for these contracts. Their fighters know the risks going in, but sign up anyway. The pay is above average, and the death benefit to their beneficiaries is significant. In this way, many of them provide for their families in a manner they normally could not.”
Gralen coughed. “He speaks the truth. My unit that Captain Harmon saved so long ago was labeled combat ineffective when we reached the rear. Of the two hundred of us that went up that ridge, only forty-one returned. Of those, half were psychologically unable to continue fighting. Those of us who were left took the offered discharges and joined the Dark Hearts. Nineteen of us. My Captain and I were the last of the survivors. Now it is just me.”
“Standard practice of guilds like the Dark Hearts.” Harmon explained. “They ‘encourage’ military officers to discharge members of depleted units like Gralen’s. Usually paying some amount per recruit they sign up.”
Allistor’s mood was growing darker as the conversation continued. As the son of a soldier, he’d been taught that soldiers, and most especially veterans, were to be honored and treated with respect. Not thrown into meat grinders and given payouts that he suspected were less than pocket change to the Dark Hearts and guilds like them.
By the look on his merchant friend’s face, he was thinking much the same.
Allistor reached a decision, of sorts. “Okay first, I’m keeping your ship. I don’t much like the sound of these guilds, and I don’t like the idea of handing them back a weapon to use against me later. Plus, I need ships. So we’re going to ke
ep the Opportunity, get it repaired, and use it to pay back our enemies.” He watched Gralen’s face carefully as he spoke, but saw no reaction of any kind, other than a small nod when he was done.
“Now the question is, what to do with you.” Allistor let that question hang out there for a moment. “Let me ask you, First Officer Gralen. If you had the opportunity to choose your fate, which option would you choose?”
Harmon coughed, shaking his head. Gralen smiled. “Captain Harmon is trying to politely let you know that I can only give one answer to that question. I am oathbound to the Dark Hearts, and that oath demands that I encourage you to ransom back my ship and its crew.”
Allistor shook his head in disgust. “Alright, Gralen. That is not an option. There is no force in the universe that will convince me to ransom you back. I have more klax in my pocket than I could spend, and the couple hundred million I might get for your crew means nothing to me.”
Harmon nodded. “He speaks the truth. He is wealthier than many system lords.” Gralen’s eyes widened slightly, but he did not speak.
“So, assuming there is no way you can fulfill your oath and convince me of either of those two options, what would you choose among the others?”
Gralen opened his mouth, then shut it again, shaking his head. Harmon said, “The oath will not let him answer. I’m sorry Allistor. He clearly wishes to speak, but no matter what you say, he will be unable to answer.”
A new idea occurred to Allistor. “Gralen, can you tell me this? When you sign up with Dark Hearts, is it a lifetime commitment? Or a specified period.”
“Each member signs for a set period. From six months to twenty years. Upon expiration of the contract period, both parties can choose to extend, or not. Multiple variables factor into the offers made at that time. Including performance, age, ability, and salary requirements.”
“And you have been a member for something like a hundred years, now?”
“I have. And most of my remaining crew have been members for at least half that time.”
“And does your failure in this mission void your membership? Or allow you to resign?”
Gralen took a long time to think about that. “The likelihood of it being an undisclosed suicide mission, with the loss of one quarter of our crew and our Captain, might be grounds for severance of our contracts. In addition, our guild may simply terminate our contracts after paying our ransom, should you allow that. The Dark Hearts’ reputation will suffer enough from this failure, they may not want to risk another by continuing to employ us. We would be considered damaged goods.”
Allistor grinned. “And if I chose to demand your service for two or three years?”
Harmon laughed. “The guild would consider it a cheap way to escape their predicament. They would pay a year’s salary or some similar settlement to the crew’s beneficiaries, sever their contracts, and wash their hands of them. Cheaper than paying a full ransom, and little to no risk of word of their failure getting out before they have time to lay the blame on their client and put some kind of spin on it.”
That last part confused Allistor. “But, aren’t there a bunch of observers who’ve been watching this fight? I’m pretty sure I saw Fame and Infamy Points flash across my interface.”
Gralen explained. “The reason our ships carry no markings, and we wear no uniform or insignia, is so that observers have no accurate means to identify our guild, or by extension, our employer. That is also the reason that Harmon suggested we speak in here, rather than on the battlefield. The observers are not privy to this conversation. Or any private conversation held within your walls. It is one of the system quirks that allows us to stay anonymous. Though, had you forced me to answer your questions outside, all would have been exposed.” He paused for a moment. “Since I’m sure my masters were watching, it may be that your discretion will work in your favor. Should you wish to negotiate with them at some point in the future.”
“Good to know.” Allistor made a mental note to look into that. He had the money, after all. But he already knew he’d have to be desperate to hire mercenaries to do his dirty work. “Alright, First Officer Gralen. Here is my decision. You and your crew will serve me for the period of time you described, as adjusted by whatever calculation the system makes.”
Gralen, who had been holding a rigid posture from the moment he’d taken his seat, slumped slightly. He exhaled slowly. “Now that you have stated your selection, I am free to say that I am grateful, Highness. This is the outcome that I found myself hoping for.” He got to his feet. “I will inform my crew, and we will get to work on repairing the ship immediately.”
“Hold on, Gralen. Have a seat, I’m not done.”
Confused, the mercenary sat back down. “Highness?”
“First of all, stop with the highness stuff. I am Allistor. You can use my title on formal occasions or when others are watching. But in here, in private, I’m Allistor. That’s an order.” Gralen smiled and nodded.
“Second. If Harmon is correct, then your families will be paid something like a year’s salary for each of you, or less. Would it be safe to guess that many of your crew’s families would suffer for not being paid over the remaining time of your service to me?”
Gralen looked uncomfortable again, but Harmon nodded. “You are correct.”
“In that case, I am going to do two things. I’m going to ask Harmon to speak to your guild master, which he apparently planned to do anyway. I’m going to ask him to encourage them to release you from your contracts, and pay your families two years’ wages instead of one. This accommodation will ensure that I am happy with the resolution of this incident, and not inclined to accidentally bitch about it, and the Dark Hearts, while standing out on a battlefield, for example.”
This time Gralen and Harmon both laughed. Gralen bowed his head. “Thank you, High… Allistor. Sincerely. But I must caution you about blackmailing the guild. They may take offense.”
Harmon spoke up. “I’ll make it clear to them that any attempt by anyone to retaliate will not only result in the exposure of the facts here, but also incur the wrath of my people.”
Gralen’s eyes went wide, and coughed. “That… would do it.”
Allistor fist-bumped Harmon, then continued. “In addition, I will pay you and your crew your normal salaries, beginning tomorrow. This is contingent upon all of you agreeing to one thing. The moment you are released from your contracts with the guild, you will all swear an oath of loyalty to me. This will be a very specific, detailed, and binding oath, just as strict as the one the system will initially force upon you. One I’ll probably get a lawyer or two to consult on. The intent of which is to make you citizens of Invictus. Assuming your families have access to teleport systems, they will be welcome to join you here, providing they take the same oath. In return, I will promise not to send you on any suicide mission, or even missions likely to have high casualty rates, unless you volunteer with full knowledge of the danger. And maybe not even then.”
He stopped talking and looked at Gralen. The whiskers on the mercenary’s face quivered. “That is unbelievably generous of you, Allistor. I only wish my Captain had survived to witness this. If any deserved this generosity, it was him.” Gralen looked down at his hands, which were now in his lap.
Allistor thought about it for a moment. “Your Captain, he had a family?”
“A large one, yes. They will be paid his death benefit.”
Harmon spoke up. “Which might last them five years.” Gralen just nodded.
Allistor let out a long exhale. “If they will agree to be bound by the same oath, I invite his family, and the families of the others killed here today, to join us as well.” Allistor wasn’t sure about bringing so many aliens into the fold, but he felt honor-bound to make the offer.
“That is… thank you, Allistor. I will make sure your generous offer is extended.”
The room stayed silent for an uncomfortably long period. Finally Harmon suggested. “Let us get you back to yo
ur ship. We can hold the funeral, then you can explain the situation to your crew.” He looked at Allistor. “If Allistor doesn’t have housing for you here, I will host you in my shop.”
“They’re bound to me already, right?” Allistor asked. “Since I stated my choice.”
“That is correct. Myself and my entire crew.” Gralen confirmed. “The moment we step out this door and your decision becomes known.”
“Then you’ll stay here while you fix your ship. There should be enough housing in the depository building’s upper floors for you. Or however many of you don’t want to sleep in your ship. I don’t know how comfortable it is in there, or how bad the damage is. You can work all that out with Nigel, our AI. But it’s best you be out of sight for the funeral.”
Harmon escorted the mercenary outside, and Allistor stayed. With a few minutes to himself, he finally took time to review his notifications. The deaths of more than fifty mercenaries, all seasoned veterans level eighty or higher, plus the defense bonus, had leveled him up to thirty-five. Since he hadn’t assigned points since level thirty, he took a minute to do so.
Keeping Harmon’s words about honorable melee fighting in mind, he put a point into Strength, and five into Agility. He also assigned two points each to Constitution and Stamina, for better melee survivability. As always, he left one in reserve, just in case.
Designation: Prince Allistor, Giant Killer
Level: 35
Exp: 257,600/5,550,000
Planet of Origin: UCP 382
Health: 28,000/28,000
Class: Battlemage
Attribute Pts Available: 1
Mana: 11,000/11,000
Intelligence: 20 (22)
Strength: 7 (9)
Charisma: 7(9)
Adaptability: 7
Stamina: 10 (12)
Luck: 4 (5)
Constitution: 15 (18)
Agility: 10
Shadow Sun Rebellion Page 19