A Shadowed Figure
Bek looked around his hall of followers; criminals, slaves, shopkeepers, spies, soldiers and dreamers, he'd welded together a motley assortment into an army. They'd freed Space City, they were fighting Shadow wherever they found it and now they were taking on the Federation.
One thread of thought, a thought that had recurred for five long years.
They run the Terra Nostra. They killed my sister.
His motivation. Hanna.
And Petey. But mostly Hanna. A worthless dreamhead, a dying druggie, but his sister. And they had used her up and spit her out. How she died, fighting an alien, didn't change things; they'd killed her. Even after so many years, Avon's cruel words still echoed in his head.
"She was dying anyway."
Blake's words as he stood in his safe cushy spaceship. "The President of the Federation runs the Shadow operation."
What he said before he brought Bek to the only home he knew. He'd be back in three years. He would expect Bek to help him.
He spared a moment for a sour thought and a snort of distaste.
And you never came, you liar. You dropped me in it, you nearly got me killed. I lost every friend I had just staying alive. But I wanted revenge. I'm not going to stop until I finish what you started and take the Federation out.
I wish Hanna could see this. It'll take me years. Maybe my entire life. I doubt I'd have a chance without the Galactic War. But they make Shadow. They created Shadow. They ruined so many people like they ruined Hanna and Petey. They've got to pay.
See me, Blake? The dreamhead's sister, worthy of contempt but not help. Look at me. I'm doing what you couldn't. And I'm going to win.
Chew on that, Blake. You're the big name now, but they'll remember me.
"Right, people," he said aloud. "That's the plan. It's small, but we have to start somewhere. We've got an empire to destroy and rebuild. Let's get it right this time."
Bek looked around his hall of followers; criminals, slaves, shopkeepers, spies, soldiers and dreamers, he'd welded together a motley assortment into an army. They'd freed Space City, they were fighting Shadow wherever they found it and now they were taking on the Federation.
One thread of thought, a thought that had recurred for five long years.
They run the Terra Nostra. They killed my sister.
His motivation. Hanna.
And Petey. But mostly Hanna. A worthless dreamhead, a dying druggie, but his sister. And they had used her up and spit her out. How she died, fighting an alien, didn't change things; they'd killed her. Even after so many years, Avon's cruel words still echoed in his head.
"She was dying anyway."
Blake's words as he stood in his safe cushy spaceship. "The President of the Federation runs the Shadow operation."
What he said before he brought Bek to the only home he knew. He'd be back in three years. He would expect Bek to help him.
He spared a moment for a sour thought and a snort of distaste.
And you never came, you liar. You dropped me in it, you nearly got me killed. I lost every friend I had just staying alive. But I wanted revenge. I'm not going to stop until I finish what you started and take the Federation out.
I wish Hanna could see this. It'll take me years. Maybe my entire life. I doubt I'd have a chance without the Galactic War. But they make Shadow. They created Shadow. They ruined so many people like they ruined Hanna and Petey. They've got to pay.
See me, Blake? The dreamhead's sister, worthy of contempt but not help. Look at me. I'm doing what you couldn't. And I'm going to win.
Chew on that, Blake. You're the big name now, but they'll remember me.
"Right, people," he said aloud. "That's the plan. It's small, but we have to start somewhere. We've got an empire to destroy and rebuild. Let's get it right this time."