~Chapter 5~
"Nie'de!" Kurath called, knowing as he turned around that his second-in-command would be behind him already. Whenever there was bad news, Nie'de was always close by – in more ways than one. "Go take 'Tkon'te, In'dre-an'de and Greeahnyau and make sure the entrance is secure. Ha-rauth! Sin-ae'de! Go to the armoury and get a net and a drkhrun between the two of you!" The two yautja warriors in the room bowed their heads in acknowledgement of their leader's commands before sprinting to the armoury. The drkhrun was Sin-ae'de's favourite weapon due to its size and power. He could not understand why his leader wanted it though – it was a ranged weapon, not recommended for use in the close-combat that would undoubtedly ensue. But Sin-ae-de knew better than to question his cunning leader – especially when their preparation time was limited. And now to make sure my altruistic alter-ego does not interfere with my tactics, Kurath thought. He stalked back down the corridor that he had come from and saw his brother standing just a little inside the kehrite's doorway.
"What's happeni-" Before Murakht could finish his sentence, Kurath grabbed the door's frame and inelegantly kicked his brother back inside using his foot. Murakht fell to the ground.
"We'll talk later," Kurath sneered before shutting and locking the kehrite's door.
*
Murakht picked himself up off the floor. He checked that the door would not open for him before he extended his wrist blades and jammed them into the wall. Sparks flickered. The wall's door-lock console made a disgruntled sound. Murakht began moving his fist around, looking for something in particular to connect his blade with. It was time to show Kurath that even teachers could learn new tricks.
*
Besk'a looked out at the ship in front of them. It had not opened communications, and was heading away from their ship. In his mind, there was little doubt that this was the Ga'ed-a'rath, but he had to make sure.
"Scan for it's name," he demanded. Me'gaht did as he was told.
"It has none – it has been removed!" He replied. Every ship had a name imprint – it was for easy identification, and the name imprints could never become corrupted unless they had been tampered with.
"Then this is the ship that we are searching for," Nidrua told him. "Disable it's engines!" Within seconds, the Aki're'ga let out three large blue pulsing balls. One missed and flew off into space, never to be seen again. The other two hit the ship, enveloped it and turned into electric streaks before it vanished entirely. The Ga'ed-a'rath stopped; its engines had been paralysed. "Prepare to board!" The young warriors ran to the opening ramp, ready to face the Bad Bloods when the ships joined. Nidrua turned to Me'gaht. "As pilot of the ship, you must remain here," he told him. Me'gaht looked disappointed, but he knew even before Nidrua said anything that he would have to stay. Nidrua turned to the Arbitrator. "Are you ready?"
"I won't become any readier," Besk'a replied with a look of grim determination of his face. It was time to cleanse these Bad Bloods from the world of the living.
*
Nie'de leaned casually against the wall, cleaning his combi-stick and wrist-blades. The weapons did not need to be cleaned, but it was something he did out of habit before a battle. They had gathered in the main hallway where there was the most space to fight.
"Where are Ha-rauth and Sin-ae'de? They're taking their sweet time getting here!" 'Tkon'te growled to In'dre-an'de. His friend cackled.
"Perhaps they are too cowardly to fight and have left us to deal with the Arbitrators," he replied. The two shared a grin whilst their leader's face darkened. They were taking too long, and soon battle would be upon them. The ship came to a sudden stop and they were thrown about, colliding with walls and falling through doors whilst electric-like streaks covered the floors and walls. Nie'de received a shock from one of these, and with a hissed curse, he jumped back onto his feet. Greeahnyau had been buried underneath both In'dre-an'de and Kurath, and was currently struggling to breathe whilst using what breath he had to make use of vivid swearwords. The others picked themselves up as quickly as Nie'de had, and as Greeahnyau stood solidly on his feet, a loud clanking sound was heard as the other ship joined with theirs. The onslaught would be upon them shortly. They readied their burners and combi-sticks. Footsteps could be heard on the other side of the door. It began to open, and Greeahnyau thrust his combi-stick through the gap. It made contact and a voice cried out in shock – a voice too young to be an Arbitrator. The door opened fully, to reveal the Greeahnyau had only nicked the skin of a young warrior – it had only caused a small trickle of blood. The Bad Bloods had little time to react before the warriors from the other ship rushed into their own, brandishing their own combi-sticks and wrist-blades. They were going to attempt to kill the Bad Bloods honourably – how noble, but their notions of honour did not mean that Kurath's crew would fight them honourably.
They clashed in combat, weapon against weapon, warrior against the ill-reputed. They could not see the emotion behind each others' mask, but they could feel it and smell it – the oily scent of rage and hate. 'Tkon'te found himself up against two opponents – both in front of him. The warriors were young – probably only a few years blooded; inexperienced next to him. They worked together in an attempt to bring him down, moving to strike at his head and feet simultaneously. 'Tkon'te jumped and raised his combi-stick to block the other attack. After it had been deflected he jumped to the side, swinging the blade out to hit them. They jumped back, but each received a small graze across the chest. 'Tkon'te crouched, ready to spring a charge. He could not help but cackle to himself – he had never faced another yautja as a true opponent before, and this had to be one of the most exhilarating moments of his entire life.
In'dre-an'de wrestled with one of the oldest of the invading warriors, who also appeared to be one of the strongest. They battled back and forth, sometimes ducking the swings of friends and enemies alike immersed in their own struggles. Their wrist blades dug into each others' arm, spilling blood onto the floor which they would slip in every now and again. The invader tried to trip him up, but In'dre-an'de used his weight and strength to push the warrior off balance, toppling him to the ground. Their struggle continued on the floor. He pushed his blade close to the younger one's neck, focusing on getting this kill over and done with so that he could focus upon another. But the younger one was more skilled than he had thought. The invader twisted his own arm and blade and it dug deep into the centre of In'dre-an'de's stomach, producing a blood-curdling howl.
Greeahnyau held his disk in his one hand and had his wrist-blades in the other, poised to strike at the two warriors. One lowered its head and charged him with youthful stupidity. Unsurprisingly, he managed to dodge this, and ran the disk along the warrior's neck and spine as he passed as a warning: Greeahnyau wanted to get some fun out of these two before he killed them, and he was not going to get any if they were going to make moves where he could easily breach their defences. The second warrior was more promising – he waited for Greeahnyau to attack him, and his parrying skills were perfect. Greeahnyau became so absorbed in his attack, he did not notice the other warrior that had charged him had recovered. He took out his combi-stick and slashed into Greeahnyau's leg muscle. Greeahnyau gasped, and the other warrior dug his wrist-blades into his shoulder. He pulled forwards, taking the warrior off of his feet and shoving him into a wall. He turned and threw his disk at the one who had damaged his leg. It missed, embedding itself in the wall behind him. Greeahnyau took out his combi-stick, slashing at the warrior in front and behind him. It did not make contact, but the two invaders backed off for long enough for Greeahnyau to recall his disk. It returned, slicing deeply into the side of the warrior that had charged him earlier. He was done playing now; it was time to get serious.
Nie'de looked at the three warriors surrounding him. It was going to be a great test of his skill to stay alive. One dived at him with his wrist-blades, but Nie'de ducked just in time. The two others tried to pounce on him, and he leapt up and grabbed hold of the ship's arcane doorways, using this hand hold to hoist himself up and kick one of the warriors in the face. The warrior fell backwards and staggered about, trying to regain his balance. For the moment, he was out of the battle. Nie'de twisted and fell back down, striking his fist against the jaw of the warrior on his right. The one of the left charged him, and Nie'de purposely fell to the floor and kicked his legs out from underneath them. He rolled back onto his feet, grabbing his disk and dancing back and forth with the two fighters whilst their comrade recovered. The two became three, and Nie'de let his disk fly at the one whilst using his burner to get a cheap shot in at one of the others. The burner shot made contact with the middle warrior's chest, causing a shallow flesh wound that stank of fused flesh. Blood tricked down the younger combatant's chest, but he continued the fight, his rage intensified by Nie'de's dishonourable act. At the same time, his disc had been deflected and was now heading straight back at him. He caught it in his hand and moved away from the three whilst he changed to his combi-stick. His footing was faultless; his skill visible for all to see. Nie'de fought in such a way that his teacher would have been proud to call him his own – had he not been a Bad Blood. Kurath knew that Nie'de was a trouble maker, but he also recognised that this skill, which far exceeded his ability to cause conflict, was in very few warriors of his age. As long as Nie'de did as his leader told him, Nie'de would serve Kurath's cause well.
Ekkudo, Er'ed and Askar'n stood on the sidelines of the battle, unable to find a place where they could fight without getting in the way of their brethren. They counted the number of Bad Bloods in front of them: five.
"Aren't there meant to be two others? I thought that Besk'a said that there were seven altogether," Er'ed said to the other two.
"He did. They must be hiding somewhere else on the ship," Askar'n replied. "How about we go search for them – have a little fun of our own?" They crept around the fighting and came to some of the arch-like doorways that led away from the main hallway area to other parts of the ship. Suddenly, two Bad Bloods leapt out from the other side of the door, netting Ekkudo before he had a chance to react. Sin-ae'de cackled like a madman, pulling the trigger on the drkhrun. A large ball of topaz coloured plasma leapt from the device, jerking Sin-ae'de backwards. Er'ed and Askar'n hauled Ekkudo out of the way. Allies and enemies alike leapt out of the path of the projectile as it hurtled across the room, through the door and into the other ship.
*
A huge deafening boom shook the ship and caused Me'gaht to fall from his seat. He tried to stand up on shaky legs.
"What the fuck was that?!"
*
Kurath's eyes looked straight into the Arbitrator's. The ancient's hair was filled with much grey, but he still looked strong enough to fight. And that was exactly what Kurath had in mind. In unison they drew their combi-sticks, each with their own unique markings that told of their owner's history. Their blades became a part of them as they began their deadly dance. Centuries of skill clashed against centuries of skill. Unlike the younger yautja, their fight was not determined by how many hits they could get in and how severe they were, but how long they could endure the other's strength and ability before they became too weak to keep parrying the blows. Rage was a factor that aided them, just as it did their subordinates, but they did not allow it to cause them to make clumsy moves.
"You made a mistake interfering in my affairs, Arbitrator," Kurath sneered.
"Oh, I'm not an Arbitrator just yet," the other yautja replied. This gave Kurath a small surprise – if this was not the Arbitrator, then where was he? Was there one with them at all?
*
Besk'a surveyed the damage that the drkhrun had done to the Aki're'ga. The whole wall had a massive hole through it and it was burnt and fused at the sides. Here and there, a wisp of smoke or steam dissipated. It was surface damage only – it would not cause the ship any harm to functionality, but Besk'a hoped for Nidrua's sake that another blast that powerful would not make contact with the ship. Stealthily, he made his way onto the Ga'ed-a'rath. The fight on board was in full motion, and no one had noticed him slip aboard – they were all too involved in their own fights. He slithered through the room without anyone noticing, and made his way to the Ga'ad-a'rath's bridge.
~End of Chapter 5~
A/N: The drkhrun is basically a huge plasma cannon – like a rocket launcher. Although the name is something I've come up with, I know I've seen the thing somewhere before – on the front of one of the comic books or something.