Theodore sat in a large briefing room filled with over two
hundred serious looking Shukurae, two dozen Highland Taiks and easily fifty
humans. Not counting Tim and his crew! The Highlands Old Tongue was the
de
facto
language and the only people seeming to have an issue with that were
Bill, Paul and Saundra. It was odd hearing Shukurae speak the Old Tongue.
Heck, it was odd hearing them talk at all: they all spoke in a deep baritone in
a chord. Two voices speaking at once separated by a perfect fourth. Very
strange to listen to!
The head of the group was introduced as Line Centurion
Damesk, a rather stout lady with a broken tusk. A scar she seemed to pay no
mind. “We are going in under the auspices of the Unified Treaty Diplomatic
Security Service under the retainer of Ambassador Kathleen Rockford of the
Highland regions of Afon. We
will
be causing problems. That is up to
the various politicians to resolve. There is going to be political fallout
regardless of what happens as Lady Rockford has already petitioned to have the
security status of this rock dropped to a '5'. The happy people at the Grauer
Institute for International Policy support her, so it’s a rounded tusk it’s
going to happen. Already travel warnings are being issued much to the chagrin
of these... people. Terteska Prime, rather boring industrial/commercial
planet. Base population is eight billion and is three nines five human. We
will stick out.”
That earned a few laughs from the crowd.
“Only immediate point is its atmosphere is only nineteen
percent oxygen, but we will be operating near sea level so that is almost
rounding error. Well less than the difference if we had been operating at 1km
up. Our recovery target is a Dr. Janice Westmore, human. You should all have
images of her in your files. A known problem is going to be an expat Silver by
the name of Edwin Blackford, cousin to our charge in the back of the room,
Theodore Blackford.” Her eyes fixed heavily on Theodore, “Is there going to be
bad blood if he goes down, Lord Theodore?”
Theodore blinked and cleared his throat, “There may be bad
blood back home if he is left standing.”
That caused a rather creepy round of snickering from the
Shukurae.
“Blood in the water,” grinned Tim. “They are like sharks
that way...”
Theodore flinched. He didn't really want anyone else hurt
or killed, but Edwin
had
to be stopped. The baritone giggles from the
masses played havoc with his nerves.
“We have one agent in the field who may be able to flush
things, but ultimately we start with the interview of Dr. Thomas Westmore.
Presently in protective custody by their Federal Police.”
“The fink turned himself in?” growled Theodore.
“Indeed. It appears he did not approve of his estranged
wife being involved.”
“At least he isn't a complete waste...”
“We have been granted a fifteen minute window to talk with
him. Things to consider: we are unsure how much we trust any of these people
and they have
no
idea that Lord Theodore will be the one doing the
interview.”
“Me? My relation with his daughter may sour the whole
situation.”
“So long as he is still breathing when you leave the room,
I have no concerns how you conduct your interview.”
“Ever play 'good cop-bad cop?'” asked Tim with a grin.
Theodore just sighed. Not again...
Five Shukurae heavy assault gunships descended on the
Federal Police's “safe house.” It wasn't staying incognito very long. A dozen
Shukurae and four Highlanders joined Theodore, Tim and Bill on the roof.
Theodore grinned as he noticed all the gunships had already been equipped with
JATO bottles. Leaving was going to happen in a hurry and wasn't going to be
quiet.
“You people have fifteen minutes with the suspect. Don't
rough him up or...”
“Or what?” snarled Tim. “Don't forget, he's still due for
extradition when you
fine
people are done with him.”
“Keep it professional,
mister!
” the man snapped
back. His eyes suddenly went wide as he recognized Theodore, “He can't go in!”
“He is our designated representative, therefore he
will
be going in,” replied a very gruff Shukurae.
“You don't understand...”
“We
are
going in and we are not asking for
permission,” grinned Tim. “If our host doesn't open the lock, blow it.”
“Stand to for cutting charges,” came a call from the
back.
“You'll pay for this!” snarled the man as he opened the
door and led them in.
“Good, start a tab.”
The man just glared as he led them downstairs and up to a
secure door. “You have fifteen minutes. Make them count, because I never want
to see any of you ever again.”
Tim smiled and nodded, “Thank you.”
The door opened to reveal a room with very spartan
furniture and the shackled form of Thomas Westmore shuffling about. He snarled
as he made eye contact with Theodore, “You! This is all your fault!”
“Hey! He remembers you!” grinned Tim.
Tim, Bill and two of the largest Shukurae Theodore had
ever seen followed him into the room. “You guys hang back; let me talk to
him.”
Thomas laughed as he plopped behind a small table. “Have
a seat! Grab a bottle of wine; we can pretend we like each other!”
Theodore sat in the offered chair across from Thomas, “This
isn't about either of us. This is about Janice. We both want to make sure
nothing happens to her.”
“So, how have she and Anna taken to your backwater pit?
Starving and living on the good graces of others?”
“They are both doing quite well. They recently helped
deliver my newest sister. They named her Deidre after a nice lady who has
offered up her house for two whiskers at the wedding. The whole town has taken
completely to Anna and Janice is having a field day visiting all the nearby
towns. It appears her old calling of 'anthropologist' is mixing well with
'doctor.'”
“Anna will
never
fit in...”
“Says the person that hasn't even visited our town. As
fun as it is to be chatty, the point at hand is Janice. Do you know where they
are holding her?”
Thomas scoffed, “You think
you
have a chance in
hell of rescuing her?”
“I have
friends. I came with friends. Twenty-five
Highlanders, sixty humans and two-hundred rough and ready Shukurae are all
ready to go toe to claw with these monsters.”
“Eh,” interrupted Tim with a grin, “only fifty nine
humans.”
“Thomas could volunteer,” countered Bill with a sinister
grin. “That'd take it up to an even sixty.”
“You people are crazy, you know that?” snarled Thomas.
“Nah, they just get bored easily,” grinned Theodore before
taking a more serious tone, “We both know the local police aren't going to be
that helpful and I doubt you have enough money to buy her freedom. That leaves
us as her best chance to get out alive.”
“They don't want money,” began Thomas with a grin. “They
just want you!”
Theodore would have asked what Thomas had meant by that
but a series of linear shaped charges detonating in the floor interrupted his
thought process. The floor around him exploded and he suddenly found himself
in free-fall down a disused elevator shaft.
Theodore spread out his arms in free-fall and tried to
orient himself as he plunged down the shaft. It was wider than a normal
elevator, probably a service or freight elevator. He could dimly make out
lights far at the bottom and nearby emergency service lights blinked in and out
as a blur as he fell past them. His armor had served him well during the
explosion: it had come up so quickly that his hearing was fine. A far cry from
that night in the canteen those many months ago. He was pretty certain he
could deflect to the side and come grinding to a halt someplace early, but it
was a given he was
expected
down below: the explosion had expertly and
precisely cut a hole in the floor. Had they strictly been trying to kill him,
it would have been a shaped charge of some type or a large charge loaded with
shrapnel. No. He was being
invited
to meet someone far below.
Edwin
. Theodore was certain of it. The
Bella-Shoana had been very direct about wanting to simply kill him. No, Edwin
wanted to stand him down in a direct fight. He could only assume that Edwin
knew his brother Colm had already been defeated, otherwise Theodore wouldn't
even be there.
Theodore cringed as explosions ripped through various
floors as he passed by them. Were they just trying to rattle him? Why the
extra carnage? Floor! More important things to think about! He relaxed and
was able to execute a landing light on his feet with none of the traditional
damage of an armor slam from such a height. The pelt rain of debris from
overhead encouraged him forward in the obvious landing and he found what he had
been expecting: a challenge.
Take the subway as directed if you wish to see Janice
alive. It was painted in half meter high letters in the Highland Old Tongue.
Spray paint. How tacky; why not use a brush, mind your strokes and form and
show a little more pride in your work? Theodore laughed to himself as Fiona
and Charlotte's aesthetic chimed in the back of his head.
A rumbling in the distance alerted Theodore to the aforementioned
freight subway and he moved deeper into the basement. The rest of the team was
certain to be following, but if he knew Edwin half as well as he feared, then
things would go poorly for Janice if he stalled for time and waited for
reinforcements. In a repeat of the path just a few months earlier, he threaded
his way toward the subway tracks. High overhead was a simple spray painted
arrow dictating the direction of travel. There was already a train heading
that way at a miserly pace so he ran and jumped on the back of a freight car.
The cargo subway soon picked up speed and barreled down the long tunnels while
Theodore strained for a sign or signal for when to exit.
The minutes rolled by and kilometers of the subterranean
foundation of the city scrolled by for his viewing. Theodore was a little
concerned that Edwin may have marked his exit in an area and not properly
considered changes in lighting. It was a
given
Edwin was going to leave
a mark after all this trouble, but he may not have thought things through...
His stomach rolled as he saw a crimson red arrow sprawled across the wall and a
decapitated body on the platform, the source of the gruesome coloring.
Theodore jumped from the subway car and rolled onto the
landing taking extra care not to paint his fur with the floor's vile tint. A
long dark hall greeted him and he casually but cautiously moved as directed.
There were more arrows providing 'helpful' guidance as he moved deeper into a
truly mammoth structure. The paths twisted, turned and forked almost at random
as he pressed on. It was unclear if this was an offbeat path or if Edwin was
making sure Theodore was thoroughly confused as to his location. Either that
or just making things take longer as some exotic mind game. Both were at a
loss: Theodore's head was level and clear and his sense of navigation was
exceptional. Many Highlanders when visiting big cities easily became confused
in the urban canyons, but Theodore, while not liking big cities, had at least
become used to their disorienting effects.
Theodore's fur started to crawl... it wasn't the maze of
tunnels: someone was behind him. Someone expertly quiet was following some
distance behind, but Theodore could still pick him out in the long resounding
tunnels. He doubted it was Edwin, he wanted some stupid face off. No, this
was someone else, most likely someone to make sure Theodore went down even if
Edwin failed. No...
when
Edwin failed.
Whoever it was had found their minimum safe distance and
wasn't getting any closer. Theodore wanted to growl at his shadow but he knew
it wouldn't help. No... this wasn't supposed to be easy. That was Edwin's
point.
A solid steel security door blocked his path. No sign of
a passkey or anything of the sort. Just a bare security door. Theodore
relaxed and invoked a Live Steel sword and just barely touched its tip to the
door and
felt
. He strained his senses listening to the blade itself.
His greatest fear was Janice was immediately on the other side of the door and
if he cut through the door he might kill her by the cut, or by the press if the
steel door fell on her. That was about what he expected from Edwin based on
the stories... He
felt
nothing of the sort but caution gave way as he
shallow cut the door at a hard angle so it fell backward toward him rather than
inward.
“Oh! There you are!”
Theodore took a deep breath as he entered into a large
chamber easily fifty meters across and twenty meters high. There were crates
spread around the far end along with derelict machinery showing their age and
neglect. But it was the Taik in the middle of the room that had Theodore's
attention. Edwin Blackford,
easily
two meters tall and well over a
hundred kilos, he was a big
big
Taik and he had Theodore squarely in his
sights.
“So now we finish this,” sneered Edwin.
“No,” began Theodore calmly. “Now you prove you even have
Janice and that she is even alive, or I run like a rabbit back the way I came.
I can rabbit quite well, assuming your memory still serves you.”
Edwin laughed, “They said you'd say something like
that...” He turned and pointed to a window to the side. With a flick of the
remote a light came on showing the bound form of Janice Westmore sitting in a
chair.
“I half expected the room to be sealed and slowly being
filled with water,” replied Theodore sarcastically.
That prompted a sinister laugh from Edwin, “I was thinking
piltch-rats, but my happy hosts wanted to keep her high and dry. Her husband
wants her back intact... that is all their concern, mine is to flay you.”
“Colm didn't do such a good job...”
“You had help with Colm,” grinned Edwin. “Here, I'm the
one with help. 'Bout two-
thousand
of their goons hang out in this
complex.”
“So now
you
are the one that needs help?” mocked
Theodore.
Edwin laughed, “Hey! There you go! Baiting! That is
much
more like it. So should we practice our trash talk like a kiddie play in
spring or shall we skip to the main event?”
“Goodnight! What type plays did they put on in spring
where you grew up?”
“Ask your father,” groused Edwin. “He snuck off rather
than sticking up for the clan.”
“Sorry, whatever history Uncle has with my father is
beyond me. And honestly I could care less: I'm here for Janice and you are in
my way!”
“There's the attitude!” grinned Edwin as his armor exploded
floor to ceiling in a wall of blue flame.
Here we go!
thought Theodore as he tried to stay
calm.
Edwin was in no mood to let Theodore try to find his
center and he closed upon him in a blur. Their armors fought each other in a
spray of sparks much like his clash with Colm. It was clear here, however,
that Edwin was stronger and far more skilled than his brother, Colm. A
whirlwind of attacks came: glaive to sword to mace and back again all in
expert
form!
Theodore held his ground and held his own. He had never
experienced such an exchange short of sparring with his father. And it was
obvious that Edwin wasn't here for the practice, he was here for the kill.
Parry after parry came from Theodore as he
tried
to press back the
assault and gain the initiative.
Dance!
Theodore grinned as he thought
back to all those metaphors his father had used to explain a
true
fight.
Edwin had picked the dance and the tempo, that didn't mean Theodore couldn't
out shine him at his own work and maybe cut in a time or two!
Edwin seemed to beam as Theodore stepped up the game and
the tempo. Things were a dizzying blur and that suited Edwin quite well.
Endurance
. Did Theodore have the endurance to
outlast Edwin? He knew he could out run him, but this was very different.
Swifting? Would that bring anything to the game? No, control and form would
fail him even if speed was on his side. Time for something different...
Pulse rifle fire erupted from Theodore. Not from one
hand but from both and he relentlessly fired into Edwin. Edwin's armor held
fast, easily soaking the assault.
Edwin just smiled back, “Hey! A new trick! Here's mine!”
Theodore's mind raced with pain as Edwin invoked a plasma
lance that detonated on the surface of Theodore’s armor. His armor was holding,
but his mind was clouded with pain. Edwin flashed a brief smile as he put
another plasma lance into him and Theodore fought back hard, trying to simply
stay awake as every nerve in his body exploded with pain and seemed to want to
gnaw on his spinal cord. There in the back of his mind came clawing out his
old foe,
fear
. Theodore
might
be able to handle a third strike,
but a fourth? Something had to change, he had to do something!
Relax!
came the voice of his father in his head.
With all the screaming going on in his mind, Theodore was amazed he could pick
out any of his father's words, much less something as trivial as “relax.” But
it was the comfort of his father's voice more than anything that he used to try
to fight back the pain. He
had
to regain the initiative!
Relax!
came
the voice again. This was the time for action, not meditation! Pain started
to wash over him again as the futility of the situation seemed to engulf him.
Visions and faces seemed to fade from view as he started to lose the fight for
consciousness.
“Hey Theodore,” grinned Tim casually. “Just do me one
favor, listen to your father.”
“I tried...”
“There is still fear in your eyes and hesitation. Just do
me a favor and trust your father. No matter what...”
Relax.
How could he relax when a murderous brute
was pummeling him with plasma lances?
Relax
. Well... there wasn't much
a choice left... Theodore struggled through all the voices he heard in his
head and set them all aside as he listened for one thing: his heartbeat. Slow
and steady... slow... must slow it down... The fog of pain started to clear
from his head as he got his breathing under control and felt his heart slow. A
third plasma lance struck and a new wave of pain hit as did a rolling sea of
nausea. Too slow! Too calm! You can't be effective if you black out! Fear
danced on his mind as the nausea seemed almost as bad as the pain. Fear. He
had fear. If he still had fear he wasn't relaxed. Relax further... let the
fear go... If he blacked out at least he wouldn't be aware of it all when
Edwin struck him down... Slow... relax... Just trust Father... Theodore
collapsed to the floor from the nausea but just let it roll past him... the
fear... it was gone...
Theodore's eyes flashed as he looked up and saw the fourth
plasma lance. It was hanging there in space, halfway through detonation... He
tried to make sense of what he saw: the lance hanging lazily in space, Edwin's
motionless form. He laughed to himself at the obviousness of the situation: his
heart hadn't slowed down, his
awareness
had sped up. There was no way
he could possibly be making sense of any of this: brain activity was a
chemically rate limited process. Thinking harder didn't make the brain
actually work faster, and definitely not fast enough to see things like shaped
charges halfway through detonation. He was sensing, feeling, from outside his
normal plane.
Was he dead? Was he a ghost watching all this from the
other side. No. He wasn't dead. He laughed at the echo of the voice in the
woods from that summer.
Not a ghost, not yet. A guardian, maybe, but not a
ghost!
He was on the other side, where Live Steel lived... all around him
he could see his Live Steel arsenal hanging in a ghostly blue glow. His first
sword his father had given him, the one he had stripped from Karl, all the ones
he learned from his father, even Bill's 'lost' carbine was floating in space
around him. He was walking in both realms. He looked down and noticed his fur
was gone. Not shaved, just not there. Where ever his fur was he could see,
sense, straight through him... He wasn't changing color like Edwin, like a
Silver... he was....
Time returned to normal as the fourth plasma lance
harmlessly detonated, doing little other than seriously scarring the floor.
Edwin's eyes went wide. “Your fur! Only High Silvers can do that!”