Val shook his head. “You don’t. Trust me, you really don’t.” A number of men paled at that.
Caden chuckled, turning to his fellows. “Two hundred grand and a Mech, and a chance to fight for a wildcard no one’s expecting! He’ll oathbind you, so don’t sign up if you plan on any double-plays. Bright side is this: If everyone on his crew is oathbound, we don’t have to worry about double-crosses or spies leaking our secrets. This just might be one of the most secure players on the board. You all make your own choices. I’ve made mine.”
And much to his surprise, not a single member of Axel’s former company refused to shake his hand and take his offer. Not even the nervous-looking pair who had never served in the Black Company at all.
“It’s been a few years, but we were considered the best of our unit, once upon a time,” said a slender man with haunted eyes, the woman beside him nodding in agreement.
“We retired,” the woman softly explained. “Bought land, started a family and a business of our own.”
The man’s jaw clenched, hands squeezed tightly together. “We had two beautiful daughters. The gods blessed us with fertility we had no right to expect, born so closely to one another, and we cherished them with every fiber of our being. And we were fools not to realize their peril, on a planet so corrupt as this one, no matter its savage beauty.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Val softly said. “I can’t imagine the pain you must feel.”
The woman shook her head. “They didn’t die of mischance, Valor Hunter. They were stolen from us. Because we dared to refuse a Highlord who said he wanted them for his… collection.”
Val froze, his gaze pinning her own. She took a shuddering breath.
“Stolen by inquisitors daring to accuse us of treason with their gods damned manufactured evidence, our daughters taken away under accusations that we were unfit parents, and it was only because we collected on every last favor we were ever owed after forty years of service that we avoided death by decapitation!”
The man nodded. “Our implants were burned out, and we endured ten years of forced labor. To serve as an example to anyone else who dared defy that bastard’s request. It was only when we got out that our worst fears were confirmed, our daughters little better than slaves forced to endure endless degradation at the hands of that … monster!”
Val could barely hear for the roaring of his heart, echoing through his skull. Something in his eyes, everyone paled and looked away, save for the willowy woman sobbing before him, her bitter gaze meeting his own. “Who did this to your family?”
The woman clenched her eyes shut, as if pained even to say the name. “Highlord Kentric. Former inquisitor and favored pet of the High Council. Even when Tytus ruled with an iron fist, Kentric was allowed to do whatever he pleased, so long as his lapdogs covered his tracks.” The woman took a shuddering breath, lowering her gaze. “I know we are nothing compared to what we once were. Implants burned, everything we loved and worked for destroyed, but we fought beside our brothers and sisters for forty years. We both know mecha inside and out. If you need someone gifted in repairs, if you need an eye for tactics, maintenance, or position, we will serve you faithfully and well. For whatever you choose to pay us, and not a credit more. We only have one request.”
Her husband nodded. “You’ve declared the red. Nothing in the world would please us more than to do whatever we can to see Kentric fall, whether or not you claim the throne. That vindictive bastard should have been struck dead long ago. And the minute he’s sworn in as Overlord, all his enemies, great and small, will fall to his dogs. And the corrupt council won’t lift a finger to stop him no matter how horrific his butchery becomes. That monster will rule as a tyrant and will do what he pleases, even if he ruins this world. So long as his own dark hungers and those of his closest henchmen are satisfied, the rest of the world can burn. I have no doubt, no doubt of that at all.”
He knelt before Val. “I beg of you, let us fight under your banner. I know we can never save our daughters, we can never make up for the horrors they have endured. But at least we can help fight to free this planet of a monster. At least we can fight beside a man with honor and meet our maker with heads held high!”
Val touched their brows, gazing intently into brilliant silver eyes and damaged sockets both, feeling a curious jolt of insight as he spied damage exactly mirroring Bethany’s own. “I will take you both on. The same terms as the others. Fight by my side, serve me well, and I swear to you I will not stop until that bastard lies dead at my feet. I walk the Path of Kings, and I will not quit the field until Jordia's crown rests upon my brow!"
Desperate eyes peered into his own, the couple sobbing as they kneeled and swore to serve him for all the days of their lives. Val felt a strange rush of power tremble through him when they made their oaths, knowing he had not gained two employees, but a couple who had sworn themselves to him, body and soul. They were now his people for life, subject to all his blessings, who would never betray him or quit the field. He would serve them well.
“And now my gift to you,” he said, near twenty pairs of eyes widening with awe as golden light caressed the couple’s brows.
Critical success! Mecha ports are now in pristine condition! Magic is now easier than ever for you to use upon those sworn to your service. +10% bonus per Overlord Level to all aids and blessings cast upon your followers! Congratulations! You have repaired yet more exotic artifacts that should be completely beyond your skill. You are now Adept at Greater and Lesser Dominion Catalyzation! True Artificer is now Rank 4!
Even as the pair wept tears of awe and wonder, Val lifted them to their feet, hugging them both. “Fight by my side, honorably and well, and together we’ll crush our enemies to dust.” Solemnly he placed Elementium coins in trembling palms before turning to the dozen newest recruits gazing at him so oddly, placing Elementium coins in their palms as well, each and every one solemnly bending at the knee, knuckles to forehead.
“We will serve you, Overlord Hunter, until the board is cleared of every piece save your own!” Val blinked as every mercenary in that room bound themselves to that oath, silently swearing to himself that he would do his best to make sure they all lived to see that day.
Val smiled, gazing at a beaming Axel. “Change of terms,” he said, passing the man six additional Elementium coins. “Two hundred thousand sign-on bonus for everyone. I won’t have any of you earning less than the others, barring combat bonuses for outstanding performance, of course.”
Axel gave an approving nod. “Well done, boss. Cube or coin, Elementium is Elementium. And with the knowledge we fight under the banner of an obvious Mystic, you might just find a few more lost souls, implants burned out, who will swear themselves to your service in return for a second chance.”
Val smiled. “I won’t even ask how you figured that out, but excellent news regardless.”
Axel chuckled softly. “You stand proud like a king, wielding magics not seen in the north for centuries. What’s not obvious about it? But finding any more pilots, desperate, damaged, or otherwise, will take a while, boss. And from what you’ve teased so far, we have a busy night ahead. What’s the plan?”
Val’s pleased demeanor turned intent once more. He caught everyone’s gaze. “Alright. Time for us to get serious. I’m heading to the spaceport now. With any luck, this is how things will go down.” As succinctly as he could, Val laid out his plan to a cluster of frowns and nods.
“It could work,” Axel allowed at last, “if you’re madly talented and damned lucky. Otherwise? This will be the shortest assignment we’ve ever had.” He frowned and shook his head. “We’ll wait at our assigned position, and either our target will head by in the next 24 hours, or you’ll come to us with any change of plans.” He shook his head. “Illegal or no, I’m going to have to get us some sets of Dominion hyperion miniature transmitters so we can coordinate things better with our next mission.”
Val frowned. “You mean some way to communi
cate in real time, right? More than just flashing lights and battle codes. The equivalent of shortwave radio transceivers or, well, smartphones. What we can use on Earth makes it a hell of a lot easier to coordinate these things.”
Axel flashed a bleak smile. “I can almost taste what you mean by that. Yes, Valor. DHTs will give us a definite edge, though only Dominion battle squads are normally assigned such. Of course we had them in Black Company. In the private sector, full-sized hyperion transmitters are increasingly common. Great for calling friends, family, or watching evening cinematic movies or other shows. But they take power to run, and everyone with money buys the largest screen they can afford. You sure as hell can’t carry those things with you. These mobile units are audio only, with a range of several miles.”
Val nodded. “Get those DHTs if you can, Axel. As should be pretty bloody obvious by now, price is no object, so long as the seller isn’t screwing us over." Val looked at his watch, frowning at the time. "I'm out. Everything square here?”
A few frowned at his choice of words but salutes with fists to chests and happy nods were the majority of what he saw, Axel chuckling softly and clapping his back. "Good luck, boss. We're counting on you to make this work."
And soon enough Val found himself back on his dwarven hover-blade, enjoying the thrum of the beast between his thighs, a gentle squeeze of the throttle bringing her to life and he found he could mute the sound entirely just by willing it, the vibrations somehow changing frequency to fade far beyond human hearing, losing only the tiniest bit of efficiency with the shift in resonance. Val smiled as buildings and cars whipped by as he focused less on speed and more on becoming one with the streets he raced through, one with the deep shadows the sunset brought. More than one driver’s eyes widened at the sight of Val’s bike, gazing not at him, but the bike itself. The awareness that was just an echo of the city it raced through smiled, shifting perspective enough to cause more than one veli driver to gasp as a young man suddenly appeared on his bike before a squint and headshake revealed nothing at all save a need to keep their eyes on the road and stop worrying about flickering shadows.
For Val and his bike had become one, echoes of the night he now rode through, so many stray thoughts just a part of the darkness all around, and shadow smiled to see the brilliant sight of the spaceport just ahead. Massive structures of impossibly light and flexible alloys could be seen even from this distance, brilliantly polished vessels vast and beautiful, aimed for the heavens and countless planets spinning around distant stars light-years away.
Incredible feats of technology and innovation had allowed these people to conquer the stars. Yet cell phones and the internet were utterly beyond them. Night itself laughed aloud, exhilarating in the feel of riding his ancient artifact in a city full of levitating bikes and cars operating by principles he couldn’t hope to wrap his head around, as well as odd magics and exotic powers his brain took to exceedingly well. It was a world of strange contradictions and unspeakable wonder.
A world he would claim as his own.
38
“Are you ready?”
Quiet words that whispered from the shadows in an abandoned corner of the northernmost hangar within the massive spaceport. Val emerged from shadow with the evening breeze smelling of the nearby fields just beyond the city as well as the odd fumes emitted by the massive starships just a short distance away, one taking off even now. A miracle of chrome and silver and a thousand twinkling lights, a massive beast of a ship looking so much like those depicted in his favorite science fiction shows was taking off at that very moment, shimmering engines shining a brilliant blue on the ends of each of its wings, manipulating forces and fields he could barely comprehend as it slowly ascended, washed in the purple lights of three massive towers surrounding the spaceport itself. Val spent some moments lost in reverie as that miracle of physics and engineering raced for the heavens. The vibration in his teeth was fading to the slightest tingle before he finally turned to address the pool of shadow his eyes wanted to slide right past.
Test of skills engaged! You have successfully pierced night’s cloak with your gaze! Few students of Shadow can surpass one who has embraced the darkness of his own mind as deeply as you, Val!
The pool of living shadow let loose the faintest chuckle as it coalesced into a young man of average appearance for a Jordian, though as beautiful as any Terran movie star, with features flawless and utterly symmetrical. Val blinked, thinking his contact looked strangely familiar. Then it all clicked into place.
“I owe you for your grace, back at the Highblood Manor.”
The man before him gave a sad shake of his head. “Such a tragic shame, what happened to the Charpentier Manor—and the highly sophisticated research hub buried within—host to so many delicious secrets. Now utterly lost to folly, an explosion so potent even the inquisitor who sought alliance with a certain Highlord perished alongside his host’s entire clan.”
Val felt chilled by the cold gaze pinning his own.
“It is fortunate indeed that no member of our tribe was involved in such folly. Exothermics and the deaths of those tied to the High Council are two lines we never cross.” A soft chuckle as Val felt his heart lurch in his chest, so cold was the man’s gaze. “I am pleased to see that one of the lost was educated as to the most rudimentary of principles that assure our place in Dominion society. Deadly enough to be feared, not so treacherous as to invite paranoia so savage that our enemies would risk their very lives, attempting to purge us. And we will do all we can to keep this peace. Do you understand, initiate?”
Val grimaced and nodded. “Agda explained the accords to me.”
A solemn nod. “I know. Just as I know you, of course, had absolutely nothing to do with that nameless inquisitor’s tragic demise. And I have no doubt, absolutely no doubt that you and yours will take no action against the High Council itself, or the inquisitors that serve as its backbone, save in lawful duel or as an act of self-defense." A knowing smile flashed bone-white in the darkness. "Of course, should you find yourself battling foes wearing an inquisitor’s insignia in the madness and fury of general melee, engaged in just and lawful acts of conquest against fellow reds, then their deaths will be recorded as righteous kills upon the field of battle. But nowhere else, Valor Hunter. Is that clear?”
Val shivered at those words, so cold he was surprised the black puddles around them didn’t freeze at the man’s feet. He jerked a nod. “Of course.”
“Excellent. You know the plan, of course. It is your own. Do you have what I need?”
Val solemnly handed him the bag of Silbion-rich cuttings harvested with all the other plants ripe with arcane potential from his magical garden just days ago, having collected so many indiscriminately at the end of a ragged day making potions, grateful to find that his dimensional rift stored anything with arcane properties just as easily as it did dwarven artifacts or Elementium itself.
The Dauda opened the bag, taking a curious sniff, nodding approvingly. “Infused peppermint, sweet lingonberry, and near a dozen other rare alchemical ingredients. Very well, Valor. If the opportunity presents itself, the captain will find himself guilty of no more than smuggling alchemically potent herbs without proper permits. A fine no one has ever lost his head over, unlike the poisons that are heartbeats away from being discovered within his quarters.”
Val nodded, relieved to hear that side of his plan was still a go. He had every intention of effectively bankrupting the poor man, forcing the loss of millions of credits worth of hardware. In that regard, he was little better than the High Council who planned on robbing the man of everything he owned. Of course, Lord Craven and his ilk were also intent on framing the man for a crime so hideous the poor captain would be denied even death, consigned to endless agony in a pain vat. And that was a horror Val had every intention of stopping. He took a deep breath, gazing at the majestic ships lined up at their launchpads, eyeballing his target, focusing himself on what was to come.
�
�Are you ready?” Those quiet words pierced the night, his acquaintance utterly submerged in darkness once more.
Val gave a solemn nod before embracing the cool night air, the crushing gloom of the cloaking darkness immersing this tiny corner of the starport just as he immersed himself and his bike within the shadows of his own mind, his awakened Psi-Sense now detecting his Dauda brother and so many other pieces on the massive board before them, all going about their business like a thousand ants scurrying about their burrow, and if anyone glanced their way as Val and his companion made their way across the massive starport, all they saw were shadows and gloom.
“Captain Kada Luotsi of the ship Redoubt. Flying in a full score of battle-mechs from Archon-7,” said the powerfully built man dressed in a well-tailored blue uniform complete with medals and cap, striding down the massive ramp alongside two harried-looking men dressed in light blue uniforms otherwise matching their captain in make and cut. He appeared, if anything, irritated by the presence of the smiling inquisitor waiting for him at the end of the massive ramp clearly meant for offloading cargo more than passengers or crew, Kada obviously being a captain who took a hands-on interest in his goods.
He frowned at the dozen fully armored Dominion troopers standing at stiff attention behind the inquisitor. “Is there a problem? My cargo was specifically cleared by Jordian Command before I entered orbit.” He turned to the anxious-looking assistant at his right. "Alex, the manifest. Assure them that all is in order."
“There will be no need of that,” said the cruel-faced inquisitor a certain shadow recognized all too well. “I am sure all is in order, for all that it is regrettable you didn’t reconsider the opportunities before you, the profit that could have been yours.”
Captain Luotsi frowned. “So you know about the late bid? Yes, it’s a pity. I wouldn’t have minded the extra credits. The twenty percent premium would have doubled my bottom line. But that’s the thing, inquisitor, the bottom line. Had I broken my captain’s oath and sold to a party other than the designated winner of the auction? My word would be mud, and my business would collapse before I had even finished paying off my freighter.”
Oblivion's Peril Page 51