Inquisitor Dimitry smirked. “No doubt. Unless you had agreed to an exclusive, mutually profitable arrangement with the very party that had made you that… ‘late’ offer. Then you would never have had to worry about the fickle markets ever again.”
The captain gave an adamant shake of his head. "I read the fine print of that offer. I would have been a free trader no longer, and merely an employee. No, inquisitor. I have spent more than enough years of my life bowing before others. I chose the life of a free trader to be my own man, free to captain my ship as I saw fit. That offer would have put me right back under someone’s thumb.”
Luotsi’s brow furrowed as he peered closely at the man before him. “You seem to be taking an awfully personal interest in this, inquisitor. If I didn’t know better, I’d wonder if the impartial Jordian council had its hand in the game already. Technically illegal, isn’t it? So of course I must be mistaken.”
Dimitry chuckled coldly. "Oh, you are indeed mistaken, dear Captain, about a great number of things." His mocking smile immediately twisted into a furious glare. "We are not fools, Kada Luotsi! No captain declines honest profit without good reason. Reasons that will soon become blindingly obvious to all!"
The captain frowned, stepping back. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Oh, I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, smuggler!”
Captain Luotsi paled at those words, gazing at the inquisitor’s cruel smile with shocked disbelief. “I have never once smuggled in all my years flying.” His jaw clenched tightly, he turned to his terrified-looking second. “Prep the engines. We are leaving immediately.” He glared at the inquisitor. “I formally decline my request to trade upon Jordia. We will disembark immediately.”
“Oh, it is far too late for that, Captain Luotsi. We have already figured out your little scheme, to smuggle Vicebloom and Blackbliss on behalf of treacherous reds in an attempt to overthrow the High Council itself! We have even found the worm who was to have purchased your deadly poisons and carried out your assassinations!”
The captain gazed at Dimitry in growing horror. "No. That's a bald-faced lie!" Terror turned into tight resolve as he stumbled back another step. “Neither me nor my men have set foot upon Jordian soil. By Dominion treaty, I have every right to leave without being subject to your laws, or your council’s obvious corruption!”
Dimitry’s twisted smile grew. “Correct. Men? We are under attack! The assassins have drawn weapons! Fire at will!”
The captain stumbled back in horror as blaster fire rang through the night, Kada’s assistants screaming and crumpling off the ramp, crashing to the ground in broken heaps, ragged holes burned into their flesh. One soldier walked up to the body still twitching and wheezing for life, somehow hanging on despite the fact that his chest was a ravaged mess of blood and gore. The dying man wheezed desperately as the soldier coldly put his laser carbine to the man’s frantically shaking head before pulling the trigger, killing him instantly.
The soldier then bent down, roughly rolling the corpse over, and pulling out a blaster from under the waistband. “Weapon secured, sir. Threat neutralized.”
Dimitry chuckled softly as the captain fell to his knees, trembling hands raised high, crying out when the inquisitor roughly wrenched them behind his back, snapping mag-cuffs into place. “You were a fool not to sell when you had the chance. And you will find the price steep indeed, when we find the poisons you dared to think you could smuggle underneath our noses.” He laughed as he gazed into the panicked captain’s eyes. The captain suddenly crumpled to the ground, screaming in pain, and shadow could almost taste the Mind Daggers tearing through the captain’s brain. “Confess, worm. Who else is working to overthrow the High Council? We’ve already foiled your attempted assassination of a council-appointed inquisitor. Once we have confiscated the evidence of your plot, your fate will be sealed.”
The captain’s haunted gaze met the inquisitor’s own. Blood was leaking from his ears. “I smuggled nothing. You mind-readers could sense it if I lied!” He coughed bitter laughter. “Of course, it doesn’t matter what I say. You aim to make an example of me, so no one dares to sell equipment to anyone but your corrupt council’s chosen!”
The man cried out when Dimitry’s eyes blazed like fire, the captain’s cries turning to shrieks before he collapsed at last, numerous ship workers scurrying to the edge of the massive ramp, gazing down at the scene below, a dozen troopers now pointing their blasters straight at the crew.
“Secure the ship!” Dimitry roared, jerking the battered captain before him as he took the lead up the ramp, a personal force field now shimmering about his frame. “If any man raises his hand against you, fire at will!”
And within moments, the entire contingent had entered the ship, shouts of confusion, panicked cries, and the occasional sound of screams and blaster fire rang through the massive vessel. And all was still on the ramp below, save for the subtle shift of shadow, a single point of awareness as much the metal ramp and the night all around as the sentience now flowing up and into the ship ahead.
“Please, don’t shoot, we surrender!” Blaster fire and screams could be heard from the mech hangar beyond, technicians in ivory uniforms being cut down in cold blood by multiple soldiers in heavy Dominion armor. Even when young men and women fell to their knees, hands in the air, crying out their surrender, the soldiers still cut them down. Their only concern was to shoot their begging targets in the front of their bodies, going so far as to kick and stomp on the screaming crewmembers until they rolled over on their backs, at which point they were brutally finished off. And only after every last technician had been slaughtered did they coldly, methodically place blasters in the fallen victims’ hands.
Shadow roiled and seethed, but it had already been too late to do anything but watch the final moments of slaughter. As much as he was outraged by the horrors committed, Dimitry and the council showing a brutal savagery not even the Dauda had suspected, he knew he had to keep his cool. To do otherwise was to invite this same horror to nearly a million souls. His people. At the moment extremely vulnerable and counting on him to protect them from all other reds upon the board. And before him now lay the means to do just that.
Magnificent in size and scope, a full score of massive beauties filled up most of the hangar. Twenty flawless chrome-plated titans. Even in the depths of Shadowmind, Val couldn't help but feel a certain amount of awe at the pristine works of death and art before him, sleek curves allowing for surprising speed and power, massive blaster cannons no foe could stand against.
And patiently Val waited as Dimitry’s personal retinue secured the massive compound, jaded eyes washing over pools of light and shadow between the mecha, seeing nothing amiss.
“Chamber secure, sir. Multiple insurgents found. All armed and dangerous. All have been neutralized," declared one man on what must have been the portable DHTs Axel had mentioned, looking like nothing so much as sleek walkie-talkies of brilliant chrome, bristling with antennae.
“Good. Do you have enough blasters?”
“Affirmative, sir.” The soldiers said after getting a nod from one man carrying what looked like a massive satchel strapped to his waist. “More than enough to go around.” He sneered at the bodies of the crewmen they had butchered in cold blood.
“Good. Finish the sweep. No survivors,” crackled the chilling orders.
And moments later, the chamber was empty of all save the coldly accusing gazes of a dozen souls, faces locked in masks of confusion and agony forever more. The awful stench of blood and charred flesh was heavy in the air, along with the scents of lubrication, steel, and oil.
And Val pushed it all firmly out of mind, sliding past the horror he had been heartbeats too late to avert, careful to avoid stepping in the blood of a dozen innocent souls.
And there at last, the prizes so many were dying for even now.
Shadow and darkness coalesced at last into the visage of an intently gazing young man as he
whispered the final words to a hideously potent spell, the battle-mech looking no worse for wear with the casting.
Skillcheck versus arcane disruption… failed! Despite your incredible skill and class advantages, your arcane spell has still pulled you free of Shadowmind! Good thing this massive chamber is empty of anyone save you and the dead. How fortuitous that you just happened to get here heartbeats too late to do a lick of good. It seems your tardiness is now paying off in spades!
Val grimaced at the mocking voice ever echoing in the back of his mind, knowing he had at best minutes before his enemies came to collect their prize.
Automative Folly successfully cast upon a titan-sized structure yet again. You are now an Adept caster of Automative Folly! Too bad your enemies are just moments away, and you’ve been yanked completely out of Shadowmind! What will you do now, Val?
Val grimaced even as he exulted in the sweet rush of magic pouring into his target, sensing scores of minute changes rippling through the masterpiece of exotic alloys and inconceivably complex hardware before him. But he had only disrupted fifteen of the twenty present, and his senses were too acute not to pick up the vibrations of disciplined steps heading his way, even without Shadowmind.
Controlling his panic, he dashed from behind the battle-mech he had just altered, racing for the nearest pristine target just heartbeats before the massive portal was keyed open, a full contingent of Dominion troopers, far more than the original dozen, entered the room. Before them, eyes wide with confusion and fear, were almost a score of mech pilots, if their skin-tight body suits and chrome ports were any indication.
All of them gazed about the blood-drenched room in horror. Several turned around only to lurch back in surprise. The troopers now aiming blasters at their backs.
Dimitry, in the lead and still making use of his shimmering force field, flashed a disarming smile. "No need to worry, gentlemen. This is just a precaution! Of course, we know you had absolutely nothing to do with the attempted assassination plot schemed by the vile Captain Luotsi and his crew. You simply came under lawful mercenary contract to serve the owner of these battle-mechs for a full five years, yes?"
The pilots were gazing speechlessly at Dimitry until one finally shook himself out of his stupor, perhaps realizing that the inquisitor’s bemused gaze was turning frigid, responding with a hurried nod. “Yes, honorable inquisitor.” He gulped, gazing around him. “The captain and crew kept to themselves. Me and my men had nothing, absolutely nothing to do with them. We simply came here to fulfill our contracts, nothing more.”
Dimitry gave a benevolent nod. “Of course you have. Honorable mercenaries, and we, the council of Jordia, have nothing but respect for the accords and the Mercenaries’ Oath.”
The pilot swallowed, slowly nodding. “We are grateful for your understanding, Lord Inquisitor.”
Dimitry chuckled softly. “Of course I am understanding. For example, I understand that the lord who originally commissioned these battle-mechs, one Lucius Blackenthorp, is a conniving traitor who attempted to poison the entire council!”
All the men paled at that.
Dimitry smiled. “So of course you have absolutely no intention of working for that traitor, now do you?”
All twenty men frantically shook their heads.
“Excellent!” Dimitry looked ready to applaud. “For there are far greater employment opportunities here on Jordia. In fact, I have it on good faith that one Highlord Kentric has recently put in the winning bid for these twenty battle-mechs, having retroactively gone back up on auction with the revealed treachery of the Blackenthorps! And I have it on good authority, very good authority, that he will pay double standard rate for any mech pilot willing to fly under his banner.” Hot eyes pinned the pilots where they stood. “Now between you and me, that sounds like a fine opportunity. Perhaps the finest any pilot could expect, who hoped to survive the succession, wouldn’t you agree? Double normal rates, and the chance to work with the most potent military force in all of Jordia!”
The pilots exchanged hurried stares and whispers before they all nodded in sync.
Their leader stood tall, flashing the inquisitor a confident smile. “Fighting under Highlord Kentric’s banner sounds like just the opportunity we were looking for!”
“Excellent!” gushed Dimitry. “Yet further proof you had nothing, absolutely nothing to do with this ugly bit of intrigue. I shall vouch for you all myself!”
He nodded at the troopers, who immediately lowered their blasters, one of them almost deferentially handing each of the pilots a cube.
“Standard blood-seal, friends. Just prick your thumbs and you’ll be registered, your oaths sealed with your blood, and the merc chips within your cubes will distend, your bonus immediately accessible at the Newford credit union!”
And with almost relieved nods and smiles the pilots were all too happy to insert their thumbs with only momentary winces as the cubes went from opaque to ruby in shade before dropping tiny chips into a score of palms, every mercenary immediately inserting them into black cards they had on their belt pouches before handing over their now crimson cubes to Dominion soldiers now so deferential they bowed solemnly before stepping away.
Val gazed upon the scene with a tactician’s eye. Dimitry’s actions had been ruthless, savage, and unquestionably effective. The inquisitor had committed a hideous act, butchering an entire crew under blatantly manufactured evidence. But he had gained himself an entire armada of battle-mechs and pilots. And if forensics worked differently here than on Earth, who was to say the man couldn’t bluff his way past any investigation, probably directed by the very council profiting so handsomely from this very act. After all, it seemed all the witnesses were either dead or already sworn into Kentric’s service.
Save, perhaps, for the captain, for whom an even more dire fate awaited. Unless, of course, the entrapping poisons used as the pretext for this slaughter turn out to be nothing more noteworthy than exceedingly potent alchemical ingredients. Even if Val and his associate could only save the captain in addition to the mechs, it would be a salve to his soul. And the thought of putting that vile inquisitor on the spot was a pleasing one. His claims of insurgent assassins and self-defense would ring hollow to any but the most corrupt ears if the most dangerous thing found in the captain’s quarters were ingredients for healing tinctures.
And Val did his best to push the stench of slaughter and betrayal, the nervous laughter of men desperate to win over soldiers that could butcher them just as quickly, firmly out of mind. Focusing only on the calm between heartbeats, the shadows seeping all around, until he was but a single point of awareness.
Crackling Psiblade oddly dim in the inky gloom, lancing upwards to caress the massive reinforced ball bearing joints at the inseam that allowed the battle-mech to move as adroitly as the bipeds it emulated. Multiple pinpoint incisions the reinforced plates could do nothing to counter, damage undetectable to any but the most thorough inspection. Subtle destruction that would reveal itself not at all upon first steps taken. But the minute the pilot tried to twist and pivot, he would come crashing down upon suddenly unresponsive legs.
Insight gained! After repairing numerous blasters, cyber-links, and mecha at Highblood and Blackenthorp Provinces, as well as perfectly sensing how Automative Folly will doom the fifteen mecha you’ve cursed within this hangar, you can now instinctively gauge the weak points of any mechanized instrument!
Congratulations! You have learned the skill Find Weakness! Now it’s easier than ever for you to blow up (or repair) bikes, blasters, battleships, and everything in between!
That singular point of sentience known as Val could sense the bustle of the pilots about the massive chamber, Dimitry snapping orders for them to ready themselves for immediate departure within their assigned units.
“I’m not sure I understand, sir,” said one nervous-sounding pilot. “Are you asking us to ready our mecha for the vehicles that will be transporting them outside city limits?”
“Ah. A prudent pilot. This is good… pilot Del. But you need not worry. Though it is true general mandate declares that no battle-mechs be directly piloted within any port city, it is also true that exceptions can be made. I, a duly appointed inquisitor, am permitted to speak for the High Council in this matter. And since I am giving you a direct order to board your mechs and assure their battle-readiness, you need not worry about breaching any treaty. Is that understood, pilot?”
“Yes sir,” came the breathless reply.
“Good. You all have your orders. Ready your mechs for immediate transport! Your squad will be heading to Highlord Kentric’s estates within the hour. You will all be given exact coordinates once you’ve assembled yourselves outside the ship.”
“Sir, yes sir!” declared twenty voices in unison, all of them hurrying towards their craft, brooding gazes flowing right over the swirl of shadow and darkness cloaking the deadly flash of oblivion caressing the undercarriages of the remaining handful of battle-mechs as the pilots prepared their deadly weapons for transport.
39
“Inquisitor, we are under attack!” roared a startled soldier as the closest battle-mech erupted in a cascade of sparks and screeching metal, autocannon abruptly unleashing a burst of superheated plasma that flash-fried a pair of soldiers and left massive gouges in the hangar even as a third soldier was left screaming in his death throes as the beam incinerated half his body before cutting out as the massive machine slowly toppled over with a screech of metal tormented beyond endurance before crashing to the hangar floor in an explosion of metal, gears, and body parts, yet another soldier crushed by the fall.
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