Minalkra was wondering just when the hell they were going to get around to killing him. After being shipped off, he had been sure that there was going to be a quick show trial, and a semi-dignified execution. If possible, he would have some last words, as was technically his right as a nobleman. Instead, he had been shoved in a dark cell for what had assumed to be at least a week. Maybe two.
What was up with this sudden delay?
He stumbled as they forced him to walk. He had no idea where he was going, what with the bag over his head and the blindfold over his eyes. They seemed to have had him in a vehicle for some time, once out of the dungeon, and promptly transferred him to another. Except this new one was quiet. There were no sounds of rattling cages, no heavily clatter of locking doors. This was a sterile environment almost.
"Alright. That's far enough," he heard someone say; one of his five anonymous guards.
"Welcome, Mr. de Chapelleverte," said a voice he recognized, one with a name: Geoffrey St. John. With a yank, he pulled off both the hood and the blindfold. Blinded by the suddenly bright light, Minalkra cringed and instinctively tried to shield his face. It was only a few seconds before he could start to distinguish shapes, and the general layout of his new prison, but during that time, he inexplicably felt a crushing dread catch his heart. There was no reason behind it, just an animal fear of what was around the corner.
When he saw what was before him, what sat in the middle of the room, he realized why he was here. And frowned.
"The gas chamber?" He turned up his nose. "I thought I had an appointment with the noose and a public platform? What is the meaning of this? I haven't had a trial yet!"
"No hangman for you, I'm afraid," a regal voice came from above, and Minalkra looked up to see King Acorn himself right next to him. Within striking range, almost.
"Your fate…" the King grinned. "Will be different."
Lab coated technicians moved around, monitoring the instruments nearby. It seemed a lot for a gas chamber and a few recording cameras, but then again, Minalkra wasn't familiar enough to say how much of this was automated and how much wasn't. The gas chamber had never been a very popular method of capitol punishment: the visceral death of a criminal was never the same over a vid screen, not like a proper execution in a public forum.
"I'm honored you came to see me off, my lord…" Minalkra sneered. "But where are the rest of our beloved Royals?"
King Acorn didn't reply. He simply stared, and there was something in his face, in his manner, that troubled Minalkra. Troubled him, even though he was ready and willing to die.
"Sir?" St. John asked, looking at the chamber in the center of the room. "Are you sure…"
"Yes," was all the King said in return. Geoffrey said nothing more. Instead, they waited. The room was two tiered, and there were empty seats up on the second level. Or almost empty. Minalkra could see a few, maybe four, shadowy figures watching. One seemed to me taking notes.
Probably a reporter.
Minalkra straightened up, and presented himself in as dignified a fashion as he could manage. He may or may not be allowed his last words, but even if he was not (and he was not so coarse as to yell out his thoughts without turn), he would comport himself properly. It was what he had done all this for, after all: to die well, and in the process, to fan the flames of secession.
"We're ready, sir! Everything's Go!" One of the techs yelled, snapping Minalkra out of his thoughts.
"Very well, Doctor. Strap him in, and then we will allow him his Last Words, as is his right." King Acorn coughed just after finishing his sentence, and wiped the side of his mouth with a kerchief. Minalkra blinked, unsure whether he has seen a few flecks of blood or not on the fine white silk the King had used.
He didn't offer any resistance, as they led him to the clear plastic tube that rose up out of the floor. There was no chair, however, which had always been present before in gas chamber executions. Minalkra was sure of that. Only then, after they insisted he remove his shoes, and after they closed the open face of the cylinder, did he realize that he may not be in a gas chamber.
"Maximilian!" Minalkra roared, and slammed an open palm against the plastic that caged him. "What is the meaning of this? What are you doing?"
King Max walked forward, his expression severe.
Pitiless.
"I thought it was obvious." He paused, just a second, before calmly explaining. "I'm going to roboticize you."
Minalkra's eyes grew wide as that sunk in.
"Not like that, however." The King leaned in closer. "This will leave your mind undamaged. Because, you see, after you have been stripped of your flesh and blood, I will have my men remove your head from your torso. Then, they will extract all the information they need from what passes for your brain. What remains, I shall have recycled. And you, Francois de Chapelleverte, last of your line, end of your family… you will simply disappear into the darkness and be forgotten."
"wait…"
"Now… let us have those last words of yours…" King Acorn looked to his side. "Begin the procedure."
"wait… Wait! Wait!" Minalkra stumbled back, as something cold came out of vents in the floor, chilling the soles of his feet. He knew, abstractly, what it was. The gas was used to prepare the flesh to be roboticized. He felt his body grow heavy, grow numb, and then, so soon he could hardly believe it, he felt the pain.
And his last words were gibbering screams of agony.
A half-flesh hand left a bloody streak on the plastic divider, as the tortured form crumpled into a heap. Normal roboticization was a wracking experience in and of itself, but at least it also disconnected the consciousness from the body. Not this time. Preserving the memories for direct extraction meant applying techniques used in deroboticization, but in a localized region. Maximilian watched, and finally understood what his scientists had meant when they had described what the process would be like.
"I… I think this is a dangerous threshold, my King," Geoffrey ventured to speak, walking a little closer to where his lord stood and watched, as Minalkra's screams died down into a low groan, his lungs no longer properly responding.
"No," King Acorn shook his head. "This is nothing. Less than even a beginning. Our enemy is weakness. Our foe is complacency. Our nemesis is accommodation. This Great Kingdom shall not fail, shall not fragment, shall not lose itself to popular upheaval. We know who we are to fight. We go now to War."
The Northlands were quiet, and cold, and Tempest felt at home in it, even if the territory he walked through was no longer his own. He was flanked by two companions, both female. It could be no other way, when outside the territory of one's clan, and expecting some possible danger. To take a war party of males into the lair of another would be a violation of Tradition. Even though he was tempted, given what Chara had telepathically communicated to him over their sibling bond.
Looking up at the sky, through the branches of the forest, he sighed wistfully. What was he going to do if Chara was right in her suspicions? He had never been very popular with the other Clan Ephors, or with the Elders. He supposed that he would just have to improvise and handle things… roughly. He reached up to his forehead, annoyed by a light ochre strand that almost got in his eye.
"Quit fooling with your hair, you oaf," the female behind him slapped him on the forearm. "It took hours making you presentable."
"Is that any way to talk to your honorable Ephor?" Tempest frowned and looked back at her. Against most kitsune, he didn't even have to try and look vexed. His reputation in combat was enough to coerce them to adopt a position of submission and expose their neck. This one, however, just gave him a chiding look.
"It is, when he has the grooming skills of a mentally retarded bison," she returned, smiling enough to show sharp canines. Her bluster, to almost anyone, would have seemed suicidal. At one third of his weight, Sakeri was short even for a kitsune female, who were all smaller than their male counterparts. Neither did she have an advantage in experience, since it was obvious from looking at her that she was fairly young. The exotic pink hair against her red fur made her look even more harless, despite her wearing stripped down Afet female armor.
He grunted and faced forward. "I find it amusing that I command so little respect in the eyes of my female subordinates. Perhaps I should start acting more like a traditional Ephor."
"Perhaps," Sakeri admitted. "Would you like me to kill myself?"
"Don't be asinine," Tempest replied with a low growl.
"The reason you wouldn't ask me to disembowel myself, honorable Ephor, isn't because we're old friends, but because you've always had a distaste for sycophants. So instead you promote the most argumentative aides you can get your hands on."
"Of course," Sakeri added. "In formal company, I would die before hearing you dishonored. Please bear with my insubordinate nature, honorable Ephor."
"I know that, Sake. You are my handsmaiden, but I would prefer you didn't throw yourself onto the claws of another Ephor or Enir when we arrive. It would be…" he almost said 'a shame' or that he would miss her insulting loud-mouthed company. Luckily, he caught himself. "It would be a waste."
"Do I tell you how to do your job?" She replied, and he shook his head.
"I don't like these highlights you put in however," he complained, as the strand of hair from before again tried to invade his eye.
"You look good with them," Sakeri tried to assure him. "Trust me. Even for a strong male, you look very attractive. And when meeting another Ephor, and his High Guard, you must look your most beautiful."
"The other Ephors never care." Tempest replied, more annoyed than before. "Even Tae'Uhl, and he's as traditional as they come."
"What are you, dense?" Sakeri sighed. "We aren't trying to impress the other Ephors."
"Then…" Tempest finally got her meaning. "Curse you females…"
"Oh, you have no idea what traditions we vixens have, do you war leader?" she asked huskily. Indeed, he didn't. Males were forbidden from even asking. There was a rather sharp and stark divide in kitsune society along gender lines. This didn't mean that he (and males in general) weren't curious about all the odd female rituals that went on behind their backs, just that they remained the secrets they were supposed to be.
Still, Sakeri had always been like this.
She was fortunate that her combat skills had matured more than her speech, otherwise, friend or not, he would have made more of an effort to mate her off to attract stronger blood from another clan. There had been that boy from Kalahen, a few years ago, but then he had left, and Sakeri hadn't gone to the effort of attracting a suitor since. It wasn't like Chara, who actively rebuffed most males, rather she simply seemed to dislike the effort of enticing a male to try and claim her.
Still, she did her job well. She carried his weapons and other gear in a ceremonial capacity, and acted as his bodyguard. However, since he was (by nature as Ephor) the strongest and most powerful individual in Clan Vidar, that meant her real job was either to be a nuisance to an enemy, a suicidal distraction, or that she would be used to make sure he wasn't interrupted in a fight. In practice, the latter was her most likely and important function. That… and some diplomatic functions he wasn't entirely clear with.
This was their last day of travel, and soon enough, Sakeri motioned for him to stay with her apprentice, a female named Kaalae, while she went ahead. He knew it was to meet up with the party that would, shortly, "find" them in the forest and invite them to their nearby camp. He was traveling as an Ephor, not simply as an individual kitsune wanderer, so the protocols were different.
He assumed (from his father's memories) that it was to avoid bloodshed. An Ephor could, if surprised, easily kill someone out of instinct. Similarly, a strong female guard could also act on instinct, and kill or badly wound another, if there was an unexpected confrontation in the thick woods. Of course, no one wanted that, so they met first, and then discussed how things would go.
He assumed.
Sure enough, Sakeri came back, led them a short ways forward, and no more than five minutes later they were "surprised" by three females in full Afet armor, all of them bearing the sigil of Clan Jel'Arah. Two then came up from behind, hardly a surprise, but they did affect an efficient encirclement.
From their stances, Tempest didn't wager any were an individual challenge, but they also had Al Hasad rifles. And that was a hell of an equalizer. He knew he could take quite a few bullets and keep going if they were the usual rifle caliber, but an Al Hasad would be considered a cannon by southerners. It would punch a hole through him, and probably through a three or two behind him as well.
"We submit to you, Honorable Ephor Anthal Na'Vidar, and offer the shelter of our camp in hospitality and good will," the leader of the five said, walking towards him, her head to the side in a proper display of submission: bearing her neck. She was obviously a Jel'Arah, her coloring unremarkable, but her bearing prim and dignified. Even her speech and accent reflected that she was born and raised from that old and haughty Clan.
Sakeri, despite her earlier attitude, was all business. She stiffened when the foreign female approached him, and he saw a twitch in her muscles. He knew she was ready to strike, and would do so, if the female came any closer to her Ephor. An assassination of an Ephor Anthal was essentially unheard of in kitsune history, and kitsune history was exceptionally long, but still all took their roles in society very seriously.
"I accept your submission, and will not take your life," he replied solemnly.
"Then I am Cmeza-uhl Se'Dorad Na'Jel'Arah," the lead female straightened her neck but kept her head bowed. It was proper that she only give her name once he decided not to take her life, and he wondered (off hand) if southerners would consider that fact a bit morbid. How odd southern folk were, really, to go about their lives not knowing who was below them and who above. It was like they enjoyed the sense of insecurity and uncertainty.
"If you would follow me, I will lead you to Camp Lasric-Arah," she then took two steps back, turned, and motioned for them to do as she asked. Sakeri took up position next to him, as did Kaalae, who seemed a bit more relaxed. His ears twitched as he heard a murmur behind him, and two of the foreign females giggling. He suspected it was at his expense. Apparently whatever had been said had been done with hand signs (like those used during a hunt to maintain silence).
Gritting his teeth, he ignored them.
It was almost a relief when he saw the so called camp of Lasric-Arah, which translated to "New Dawn of Arah." Sakeri sucked in a breath when she saw the new buildings, and he heard Kaalae make a surprised sound as well. Everything in kitsune territory was old, so seeing new things – buildings no less – really had to be understood in context for the shock it was. Of course, he knew about them already, and only frowned a fraction.
One of the female escorts went off, and the others waited in silence. He could not formally enter the camp before meeting the head of the female garrison. Only then would he meet the other Ephors. The female who came, very promptly actually (which he appreciated), was a grizzled looking creature. Not to say she was old, since kitsune rarely lived long enough to be old, but she had certainly seen her share of fights.
She was probably only a decade older than he was, but had obviously had a harder time of it. She wore elaborate Afet armor of very fine craftsmanship, and a rich purple cloak. He could see the beauty she had possessed, likely only a few years ago, and in many ways, she was still attractive, as kitsune could appreciate scars for the marks of survival that they were. She was missing an eye, her right one, and had replaced it with a synthetic. That side of her face also bore four long scars lengthwise: clawmarks.
He also saw a scar along the side of her neck. Females had no mane to protect them there, and were much more vulnerable to that sort of injury. He could tell that it had been a lethal blow to the jugular, and that it had been avoided by a slim margin. Colorwise, she was a rusty brown, and so was her hair, which she kept in a long braid down her chest. Her chestfur, and the tips of her tails, were plain white. More importantly, her stance was confident and strong.
He wondered if she was stronger than Sakeri. Certainly, she was taller and heavier, and older. Females fought often, but they general did so among themselves. Males were not privy to it, like females were privy to male feuds. He had seen females spar before, but never truly fight. This was a shame, as he knew a great many highly skilled vixens.
Cmeza spoke first, "I present you with the worthy kitsune charged with the humble defense of Camp Lasric-Arah: Our Campmaster and Head Female, the Lady of the Watch, Tania-Uhl Se'Serva Na' Jel'Arah, mate to Kandrad-Uhl Se'Dorad Na' Jel'Arah."
"I greet you," Tempest inclined his head. Of course, he did not show any part of his neck. He looked quickly from Cmeza to Tania, just then realizing they were mother and daughter. He noted that, unlike with Kae introduced her mother, this pair seemed much more formal and left the relationship unsaid.
"You are welcome here, Honorable Ephor Na'Vidar. The Mighty Enir of Jel'Arah will be here shortly, as I can only assume you have come to see him. In the meantime, I shall accord you my daughter as your Auxiliary. Make use of her as you see fit."
"I shall serve to the best of my ability," Cmeza bowed her head and exposed her neck. "In all things, of course."
Next to him, he heard Sakeri growl. Did she have some problem with the other girl? She didn't seem particularly threatening. If anything, she seemed… average. He contemplated asking Sakeri what her problem was telepathically over their bond, but that required time and effort, and he didn't want to seem rude.
"This is acceptable to me," Tempest said, not wanting to dawdle. Really, it was only polite to ask for someone else if one had a favorite and had been at the camp before. Which he hadn't.
"You shall find her adequate." Tania seemed to assure him. Or insult her daughter. Or both. "Let this camp offer you a meal, Honorable Ephor."
"I shall gratefully accept such an offering," Tempest replied. He had done this so many times over the years, it was rote formality.
"Go," Tania commanded her offspring, and Cmeza quickly departed.
"This is a fascinating camp you have been given to watch over…" Tempest crossed his arms and nodded. "Yes. I was very surprised to hear of a new camp in Jel'Arah lands, so surprised I decided to visit myself to be sure. And a permanent settlement like this: very unexpected. We will have to update our maps."
"You could have waited until after we contacted the elders. Or at the next Solstice Meeting." Tania almost seemed to be reproving him. This was one of the reasons he generally disliked Jel'Arah high families. They were often obtrusive and annoying to talk to. Tae-Uhl was, too, sometimes, and it was one of his old friend's less endearing traits.
"I suppose I'm the impatient sort," Tempest replied. "When was this camp laid down? Last year?"
"Eight months ago, Ephor," the Lady of the Watch answered, and he assumed she was honest. Kitsune, as a rule, didn't lie, especially to those higher in the hierarchy than they. Eight months, however, was around the time he was training Miles down in the southlands.
"I have also heard rumors… security concerns," Tempest continued. "Over the last two years, we in Vidar have had a few robot forces foolishly intrude on out lands. They were, of course, swiftly destroyed. How about yourselves?"
"I can say, with certainty…" Tania scowled a little more deeply. "That my guardswomen have not encountered any intruding forces since the establishment of this camp."
"That's reassuring to hear."
"As Second Mistress of Security for the lands of Jel'Arah, I can boast that our security… is absolute, unbreakable, and unshaken by southern invasions. Elsewhere, we did suffer some fools who entered our lands, and they paid the price for their crime. However, we are currently far from any of those regions, and I have been informed that the source of the robots from the south has been destroyed."
Tempest finally saw El'Arah approach, from around one of the buildings. He seemed in fairly good spirits, and looked well. Tempest has met him numerous times before. El'Arah was rust colored, but with darker hair, and white chest fur. His hair style reminded Tempest of Miles, with two long bangs falling forward and framing his face. By his appearance, and the too-quickly combed nature of his fur, Tempest has a sneaking suspicion he had been worked over to be more presentable over the last few minutes. El was also, like Miles, lean and somewhat small for a kitsune male.
"Tempest!" El said with a smile, and the two males clasped each other by the wrist in familiar greeting. "It has been some time since I last saw you."
"Yes," Tempest replied, amiably. "I trust you've been training hard since then?"
El's expression darkened for a second. "In my own way, I have."
"I can smell Thandothane is somewhere around here. Don't tell me he came to check on the new camp you've built, too?"
"Noticed, did you?" El seemed a bit peeved by that. "Yes. Thando is here."
In truth, Tempest didn't smell him around, not yet, but he knew he was here. It was a little lie, between social peers, where some measure of deception was acceptable.
"Well, forget about that old warblade! I'll run into him later, I assume." So much assuming he had done recently. Damn politics. "Let's get something to eat, and drink, and catch up on recent events."
"This is poor timing," Thandothane Se' Gallan Na' Tukaido, lord of Clan Tukaido, dismissed the runner sent to inform him of Tempest's arrival with a wave of his hand. His face set in a deep scowl; he bared a single canine in displeasure, before returning his attention to the ongoing experiment.
"It is unfortunate that you were correct about the Vidar Ephor," his aide agreed eagerly, nodding his head. The two stood in a white walled room and watched through a one way mirror into a sunken chamber. Two other kitsune where in the recessed area, both male, and both wearing the white dye of the medical profession on their faces: a zagging line over the eyebrows that disappeared around the ears. They were examining another figure, with dual kitsune-like tails, but shadowed features.
"I still bristle at how this treacherous human thought to play us for fools. Introducing a sterility agent to make our Newtypes useless?" Thandothane flexed his fingers, claws raking the air. "Curse him for this delay."
"And after we, in good faith, fulfilled out part of the bargain without duplicity," the aide added, his tone quiet. "Truly, he is an honorless creature, this Mastermind. We should have had him killed when he ventured, so heedlessly, into our lands…"
"Silence, you imbecile," Thandothane sharply snapped, and his aide flinched at the rebuke. "First, he didn't venture into our lands. The agreement he made was with El'Arah, not us. And while a slow and screaming death is a fitting punishment for such attempted trickery, in the end, we got what we wanted. Killing him on the spot would have been a waste. No one had even ever thought a half human mongrel was possible before he put one on our plates."
"My Liege is both generous and furious in anger and repose," the aide said contritely and bowed his head deeply.
"Yes. It has taken more time, but we were able to repair the damage and get the Newtypes working again. When they do bear pups, they should be far stronger than that Canius creature Mastermind brought us. Still… imagine our surprise when, testing that mongrel, we discovered that he was one quarter kitsune?"
Thandothane mused over the improbability of it all. Mobian and human genes were incompatible, which everyone knew. That was what made Canius so strange. However, they had found only recently that human genetics would be mixed with certain breeds: those outside mobian norms. This included the kitsune, and the dragonkin, and presumably the other "mythical" creatures of Mobius. Why this was, Thandothane had no idea. The kitsune were unrelated to the dragonkin and the overlanders, so why would a mating produce viable offspring? It made no sense.
It was like meeting a cousin, and finding that he (or she) looks completely different. Supposedly, he had been informed, kitsune were more closely related to dragons than even one-tailed vulpines.
Granted, this had come from human researchers. Kitsune were still forbidden to do Blood Research on themselves, and Thandothane was quick to remind himself and others that they weren't doing so now, either. They were just hearing the results from others, and doing work on strictly non-kitsune creatures: humans and Newtypes. None of it technically went against Tradition or the Taboo.
When Mastermind traveled, recklessly, to the northlands, he had not been killed because he had brought Canius. He had also brought one of his mutate freaks, but that creature was of no importance. A party of Jel'Arah females had stopped them, without harming them, to inquire as to the nature of the odd mongrel in their midst. Later, a party of males had investigated, and El'Arah himself had gone to meet with the human and see the 'defiance of nature' he had brought with him. Only then had the truth been confirmed.
Canius' father had been half kitsune himself, the product of some wayward youngster's quest into the southlands, and subsequent tryst with a lupine. By amazing coincidence, the product of their union had survived, and later underwent a Turan'ha. Of course, there was no one around to control and focus the feral instincts of the rut, with somewhat predictable consequences. The Turan'ha, as all kitsune know, strongly encourages one not just to pick a mate, but to pick a mate that is most genetically compatible, out of the available nearby options. How unexpected it must have been, then, that he had gone on to "claim" some unlucky human female who had been in the area.
As to why the woman had not terminated the pregnancy when it was discovered, in light of notorious human xenophobia, Thandothane had no idea. Either did any of the humans who had, in turn, given him this information. Instead, she had kept the child. Perhaps she believed it would be human, the result of her union with some overlander male around that time. It hardly mattered in the present, except as a curiosity. The kitsune in his father was what had allowed Canius to exist, and in turn, had led to the creation of these Newtypes.
Canius was very strong, given his background, and Thandothane and El'Arah firmly believed that the introduction of human genes would produce a new generation of kitsune heirs, more powerful than any before it. The hybrids would be larger, stronger, hardier, perhaps even smarter. It was helpful that the humans had been genetically engineering and improving on themselves for several generations already.
So they had worked out a deal, and exchanged some of their own for a few choice humans. Thandothane wasn't sure what the humans wanted with kitsune males and females, and he didn't really care. As far as he was concerned, those he sent to the southlands had died in battle, bringing benefit and new strength to their Clans. What better way was there to die, really?
The problem at first had been the sabotage of the Newtypes, but whoever had administered the sterility agent had not reckoned with the hugely improved regenerative capacity of the Newtypes. It put even a pureblood kitsune's to shame! Within a month, and with the aid of kitsune doctors, all of the Newtypes had returned to full health, and were ovulating again. This was good news, since it meant that he wouldn't have to fly into a rage and exact immediate and horrible revenge on the treacherous humans to their south, as well as any offending kitsune who happened to be within range of his claws.
That little crisis over, a new problem quickly reared its head.
The Newtypes were… moody.
Generally, they were either despondent to the point of suicide, like the current patient (indeed, two had tried to tear their wrists open, and one had died before being restrained), or they were enraged and highly uncooperative. From what they had screamed and yelled, it seemed that they had been tricked into going, rather than being volunteers like Thandothane and El'Arah had asked for. For most, that wasn't a problem. Even with their enhanced Newtype abilities, they had been untrained civilians.
Only a few, the most promising specimens, were dangerous. These were the military personnel, and of that group, their former leader was especially problematic. Her power seemed to be growing every day, and she was cold and unpredictable. Already, two medical doctors and a warrior had been badly mauled by her, one of the former almost killed. It was with sadness that they had been forced to sedate her, since there was some concern that it may limit her potential.
How vexing this enterprise was, sometimes.
But Thandothane consoled himself with how he knew it would pay off in time. His heir, and his former mate, had both been weak. Neither were deserving of their lives, not in his eyes, not after failing him and wasting so many years of effort. Of course, his daughter had been enraged that he had killed her mother before she had the chance, denying her of her right as heir, but she had wisely left after he had bared his fangs at her. She was weak, too, but not a fool.
Besides, his mate had gotten what she wanted out of the relationship. Her heir, his daughter, was stronger than her, and would have sire-slayed her honorably. He, however, ended up with the shitty end of the deal. His heir was weak, too weak to kill him, too weak to succeed him. After that first fight, Thandothane had sensed immediately that his son would never become strong enough. It was thus better that he die then and there, rather than waste years trying for the impossible.
El'Arah was in that position as well. He was no match for his father, and he knew it, even without having to have that point proven in a formal fight. El was smart, however, and cunning. He saw an opportunity in the humans, and wisely contacted the Tukaido Clan, knowing Thandothane would have similar ambitions ad interests. Soon, it would begin to pay off.
But until it did, it had to be kept a secret.
The other females were clueless.
So very clueless.
"We're here to relieve you two," Chara said, sounding calm and reasonable, and most importantly: sounding like she was in charge. Kae marveled at that. Chara had the bearing of someone who knew she was powerful, and knew she was dominant, and by her tone of voice alone, others were less inclined to argue or suspect anything was amiss.
The other two females, guarding the entrance of one of the buildings in the camp, looked glad to see her. The taller of the two nodded eagerly, and picked up her Al Hasad, which she had left propped up against the wall. The other wearily got to her feet from where she had sat, and brushed off her tails.
"About time. This assignment has to be the worst," the taller vixen complained. "And all these doctors… not a cute one in the bunch."
"They're all Tukaido, it seems. You know what I mean," the shorter one added, motioning to her hair. "They have that narrow jaw thing on. Yuck."
"You're mated anyway, what do you care?"
"I can still look! There's no Tradition against that!"
"We'll catch up with you two later," the tall one said to Chara and Kae'Arah, and led her friend off, while resuming their conversation. The two females took up positions guarding the door, and after a few silent minutes of doing their duty, they gave each other a quick look.
There was one sure thing about kistune, male or female. They took a lot for granted, and they had severely atrophied concepts of espionage. Kitsune tended to do what they were told to do by those higher up than themselves, and as a consequence, they never expected their peers to act in an unusual fashion. Caution and care was still required, but less so than one would expect.
With a little nod of agreement, Chara and Kae opened the door they were supposed to be guarding, and walked right in. With Tempest around to fall back on (which they were going to eventually anyway), it was time for a big play at the truth. If they found what they half expected to, give the rumors running around, then all would be forgiven anyway.
Still, if they had run into any guards, there could have been trouble. Luckily, none seemed to be about. Chara knew there was a limited male fighting population present, and that they were elsewhere at the moment, following their normal routine. The building there were in presently was not large, and two other females in guard duty had seen what looked like a body being taken from the main complex to be stored here.
Most assumed it was a training accident, or the result of one of some poor male making Thandothane angry enough to kill him. Chara suspected otherwise, and how nice it was of her brother and Sakeri to be drawing so much attention to themselves at the moment. One could almost think they'd planned it out beforehand.
It was easy to find the door to the morgue. It was unlocked, even – too easy! Then again, as the saying went, sometimes the best place to hide a secret was in plain sight. It could well be that, by being rather lax in security, the males in charge hoped to discourage any female curiosity. The two entered the morgue, and saw the chilled chambers built into the back of the room, sitting at a forty degree angle, only one of the six sealed behind metal shutters.
"What do you think?" Kae'Arah motioned to the chamber in question, and then to the security panel nearby.
"If you're asking if I can hack into that computer and get the shutters open…" Chara smirked, and pulled out her compressed Vidar polearm. "I'd tell you I can hack in, alright."
With the flick of her wrist, the polearm extended, and the blade popped out. Bracing herself, she shot forward holding the weapon close to the head for leverage. It wedged into the seam between the shutters on the first try, a testament to her accuracy and control, but it still wasn't enough to get it totally open. Hitting the pommel with her left hand, she drove it in a bit more, and started to inch it inwards and downwards.
"You're making a lot of noise…" Kae cautioned.
"I know that!" Chara forced the blade it a little more. She didn't dare trying to move it to the side, in case it broke in half. Satisfied it had a good position, she reached higher up on the weapon, to the mounted controls, most of which were related to the degree of twist put into two inlaid rings around where it was supposed to be held. Activating one feature, the polearm started to vibrate and the blade began to heat up.
With a groan, the shutter lock was broken, and the metal guards flung open.
Chara quickly pulled back the polearm and deactivated the vibration and heat. Holding it carefully out of the way, she approached the now open casket. Kae quickly came up as well, from where she had stood by the door.
"Alright!" Chara began to pull back the plastic cover that had been behind the metal. "Let's see what all this fuss is about… Lords of the Ice! Look at this!"
"What is…?" Kae finally saw it, and she gasped, recoiling instantly. "What is that!"
Before them lay what looked, at first glance, like a human. A female, too, which came as a shock in and of itself. Both had previously assumed males were experimentation on themselves or their overlander counterparts. But this was without a doubt female. She was as generally furless as human females tended to be, except for her hair, which was long and light brown. It was difficult to tell her age, since humans matured more slowly than kitsune, but she was likely between twenty and thirty years of age.
The disturbing part of the find was, first, that instead of the small, flat ears humans normally had, this one had large, triangular vulpine or lupine features. Further down her body, around her collar bone, there were small tufts of isolated white chestfur. Reddish brown hair, like that Kae had all over her body, grew only on this girl's forearms. Her hands were free of it, starting at the wrist, but her hands themselves ended in wicked claws instead of thin nails. Beneath her body, both kitsunes saw two bushy and healthy vulpine tails, ending with white tip.
"Are you impressed?" A voice came from behind them. Chara, without even seeing who had spoken, had her polearm at the ready as she spun.
By the door, Thandothane himself stood, his arms crossed.
"Oh? You didn't realize it?" He asked, and smirked cruelly. "The silent alarm, I mean."
"Damnit," Chara cursed, caught between her urge to defend herself and Kae, and her absolute certainty that Thandothane was far outside of her league.
"My Liege…" Tandothane's aide spoke up from behind the door, where he stood with two other males.
"Stand back, all of you. Don't you realize who this is?" Thandothane uncrossed his arms, and took a step towards them. "This is the Mistress of Vidar. This is Tempest's little sister. I shall handle this."
His fingers curled and uncurled. "What a pleasure to see you again, Chara. When was the last time we met? At my son's wake, as I recall?"
"What are your intentions, Na'Tukaido?" Chara added a hint of politeness, not ashamed to at least try placating him a bit.
"To subdue you. Of course I can't let you leave here, having seen what you just did." Thandothane didn't laugh, his expression didn't even change.
"What is the meaning of this?" Chara inclined towards the corpse behind her. "What are you doing here?"
"I am creating the future of our race. No: MY RACE. The strongest are the most desirable, and these Newtypes will prove more useful to me than any of you females. As a bonus, it will give me the opportunity to justify unraveling your entire scheming sisterhood. That is what I have begun here, young lady."
"The others will never stand for it!"
"We shall see…" Thandothane took another step. "Will you surrender? Will you submit and bear your neck?"
"Make me," Chara snarled. Behind her, Kae, rather more overawed, just nodded in defiance.
"How amusing, the way your brother coddles you. Allow me to show you what it means to truly face an Ephor Anthal of the highest standing." Thandothane's presence seemed to grow, and his pupils grew small as his psionic and physical power flexed. Chara tried not to look at his face, or in his eyes, but it was an irresistible urge, and the moment she did, he seemed to be just inches away from her. She wanted to jump back, wanted to cover herself, or put her weapon between them, but it was impossible. Her muscles refused to respond, refused to move.
His presence was frightful, overwhelming, and her body began to feel numb, like it had been put on ice. He loomed, unassailable and unbeatable, and behind him she saw the screaming faces of all those he had slain. They howled and cried in tortured agony, their final moments relived over and over. She could imagine herself, in a thousand ways, destroyed by this demon that stood before her.
She sought refuse in her mind, in her discipline, in her training, in her experience. She built those facets of herself up, made them into a moat, a wall, battlements. It felt as if the weight of the world had fallen on her, and the urge to give in and collapse was almost more than she could bear, but she stood. On weak legs, she stood, and just like that it was over, and the world returned to normal. Next to her, Chara could see that Kae had already been knocked out by the sheer power of his battle presence, and of his mental assault.
Facing him, she saw that Thandothane hadn't even moved.
"So terrifying…" she whispered, in open awe. Tempest had never done that before in any of their sparring matches. "It was like my blood had turned to ice, my muscles pulled to the breaking point, my nerves severed."
"What you felt was the Hand of Death, which follows in my wake," Thandothane explained, calmly, and began to walk closer. "To be Ephor Anthal, one must master that technique, and demonstrate it before the Council of Elders. You see now, the true and undeniable power an Ephor must have to rule an entire Clan without question."
"However…" Here, he did smile. "Understand that I went easy on you just now. Your companion is much weaker than you are, and I said I only wished to subdue you. The true power of an Ephor Anthal of the highest standing is to kill with only the intention of doing so."
"I… won't submit to you…"
"Then I will make you submit. Assume whatever defensive stance you prefer."
He paused in his words, in marginal surprise, to see her shifting into the attack. Chara took two steps, and lunged, using the Flying Lightning Edge her mother had taught her. It combined the extension of the polearm with a centrifugal acceleration about the waist, together with an acute upwards jab. In a restricted environment, it was one of her more advantageous moves against an apparently unarmed opponent. He had nothing to block the blow, and would be forced to dodge it, at which point she would counter attack with…
Chara almost fell forward as the polearm in her hands came to a sudden and abrupt stop. Eyes wide, she saw the cause: Thandothane had stepped forward, into the attack, and seized the blade at its base, stopping the tip a good ten inches from any part of his body. She couldn't believe it; hadn't imagined that it could be done. Why had Tempest never… then she realized that she had used this technique before when her brother was unarmed, since she had thought it too dangerous.
"Attacking an Ephor head on with a technique like this?" Thandothane sneered. "How naive you are."
He squeezed, twisted with his wrist, and pushed her back with only his right arm. A second later, the bladed head of her polearm detached, the connecting seals broken, and the fixating parts falling uselessly to the ground. Chara staggered back, staring at her now blade-less polearm, reduced to little more than a broken staff.
Thandothane calmly dropped the bladed end at his feet.
"Damn you!" Chara spun the remains of the weapon, striking the floor several times in a spray of sparks. With a final strike and a flourish, she was confident that the end was sharp enough for her purposes. It was suicide to hold back, even if he had said he was only going to subdue her. She had to use her best techniques, her highest tier abilities, even if they were supposed to be reserved for only serious life or death fights. Ideally, the killing moves of any high rank kitsune would remain a secret, and this give an advantage in a fight, but now was not a time to be prideful.
She tapped her foot once, twice, surveyed the room, and disappeared in a flash.
The males behind him gasped in surprise and admiration, but Thandothane simply took another step forward, and without warning, lashed out with his left hand. It was an easy, almost effortless, backhand. A blur fell away from where he had hit something, and Chara's makeshift pike embedded in the wall with a thunk. She ended up on the opposite end of the room, skidding and hitting a wall herself. The power of the blow had stunned her, but she quickly got back up, tapped her foot, and Blink Stepped.
"You're slower than my son was..." Thandothane commented, blithely. He jabbed at seemingly thin air with two fingers, and Chara fell back and rolled on the ground, holding her left side.
"What a sloppy Blink Step you have," he remarked, and watched her with cruel orange eyes. "I wonder: did Tempest teach you the Blink Dance as well? Perhaps I should educate you in its proper execution."
"Ugh," Chara grunted in pain, and tried to work circulation back into her left arm. Thandothane had managed to hit a nerve cluster, even with her Blink Stepping. She wasn't sure even her brother could manage that. She struggled to get back on her feet, keeping her eyes on him the entire time.
Slowly, he lifted his left heel off the ground.
Chara never saw him move. She knew about the Blink Dance, from her brother, and she had seen it before – which was to say, she had seen him do the move, but she had never actually been able to follow his moments. Rather, she felt him to her left, felt him to her right, felt him above her and behind her. A second later, he had his back to her, back in the same place he had stood in before, his left heel still just off the ground.
Chara sucked in a single breath, before falling on her face, unable to move.
"Impressive as always, My Liege!" She heard the Tukaido aide gush over his master.
"Be silent and gather these two spies," Thandothane replied, in a typical growl. "Bring them to the main complex. They are weak, but may prove useful in putting our Newtypes to the test."
"…" Chara wanted to scream her defiance, but even her throat was paralyzed.
"And… should Tempest persist in his intrusions, I will deal with him as well. I expect that fight, at least, to be quite the challenge." She heard footsteps, and he was gone. She closed her eyes, and felt one of the males hoist her up and take her away. She couldn't believe how badly she had lost. Was that truly the power of an Ephor Anthal, without restraining himself?
Or was Thandothane simply a monster in the guise of a kitsune?
Like nothing before, like never before, she was scared to find out.
Charmy hadn't known what to say, so he said nothing, and wondered if his strange guests would leave. When they didn't, he sighed and tapped a small hidden button in the inside of his throne. It seemed that these two intruders were quite real, and possible assassins. One of them was an echidna, which made that even more likely.
It simply boggled the mind how they had gotten through Goldenhive and into the royal chambers. Either way, that hadn't struck to kill him, or wisely retreated, so he would force the situation into a conclusion. While he had learned the value of it, patience was not his strong point. It never had been.
A dozen guards flooded into the royal hall, where Charmy had been alone, mulling over war reports. Sure enough, they saw the pair in the middle of the chamber: one with a cloak covering his body, the other a female echidna with the hood of her clothes pulled back, enough to make her identity obvious. The guards didn't utter a warning, they just fired.
The, echidna however, would have nothing of it.
She held out her hands, and the bolts from the Xialjyet weapons curved around the pair on both sides. Without losing their speed, they continued and ended up hitting the guards on the side opposite where they had been fired. Almost in unison, the elite soldiers fell to the ground, dead.
"You've improved," the hooded figure noted.
"Redirecting something is easier than stopping it," the female explained, but smiled at the praise.
"This is true. The finesse you used, however, is impressive," his voice was male, and Charmy recognized it halfway before he had finished his sentence.
"You're dead," he told the hooded figure. With a grunt, he rose from his throne.
"I did die, this is true," the hooded one replied.
"Why are you here before me?" Charmy asked, and kept his voice calm. Inwardly, however, he was afraid. What were these two doing here? Had they come to kill him? He was, after all, one of the Xialjyet 'tyrants.' Worse, one was an echidna, an enemy of the Xialjyet, and the other had always been a staunch friend of Knuckles and Echidnapolis.
"That's hardly the gushing, overjoyed welcome I'd expected, Prince Charmy."
"I had to put up with the others in the Chaotix bossing me around because of my age and my size; I didn't need it from an outsider like you, Tails." Charmy gestured to the room around them. "This is Goldenhive. I don't take orders anymore."
"I suppose so," Miles didn't quip about that last part, and for a few seconds, the two stood in silence. While it wasn't accurate to call it animosity, it was no secret that Tails and Charmy hadn't gotten along well in the past. Unlike with almost everyone else, he had assumed seniority over the former bee prince, and Charmy of course, had not been open to giving Tails the 'honor' of telling him what to do. Even when it had been reasonable or wise.
They had been the 'kids' of their respective groups, and now, they were the ones with power and authority. Theirs had been conflicting ambitions and egos, and the competition to not be considered last. To not be seen as the kid, to not be underestimated and made light of. They had worked together, but they had never been friends.
"Well. You cheated death. I can't say I'm surprised," Charmy finally said. "I'll ask again: why are you here? Out of all the people on Mobius, I can't imagine you choose me to hang out with. I never did bother to get a Playstation or Dreamcast, and you know alcohol kills my kind."
"I'm here to help you, actually," Miles responded without sarcasm. "I…"
Charmy laughed, regardless. "You? Help me? Why would…"
"Would you shut up and listen?" The echidna female asked, her voice pointed. Charmy glowered at her.
"Thank you, Lara," Miles inclined his head to her. "Listen, Prince Goldenhive. I am here to help you. To help you crush the echidna, and then, the other Princes. Except your friend in Nickelhive, I suppose. As to why I do this, it is because it serves my purposes. What better reason is there than that it benefits me in some way?"
"Understand I don't want this for myself," Charmy obviously took offense at how his guest had phrased his ambitions. "There can only be peace on Angel Island if one power rules over it. The other Princes would destroy the echidna, and the Echidna would turn the hives into rubble, and trample our eggs into the ground. Only I can bring peace. Only I can forge an understanding between the races of Angel Island."
"Don't underestimate yourself," Lara joked.
Charmy scowled at that. "You want to say something? Say it."
Lara didn't even wait for Miles' approval before speaking, "You're not totally wrong. Angel Island is small, and everyone wants as much of it as they can. The animosity between the stronger powers and races is also very true. However, I find it surprising you consider total conquest and the rule of Goldenhive the only option for peace."
"Any treaty with the echidna would only delay the inevitable."
"What makes you think the echidna would accept you as… as what, exactly? What would you be to them? An occupier? A new King? You won't live very long after you breed, is your mate ready and willing to handle ruling over a subjugated people in your stead? Do you think the echidna will accept her as their legitimate leader?"
"The echidna can be tamed…"
"Oh yes," Lara replied and nodded in an exaggerated fashion. "The dingo did it, didn't they? After the Carnivore War? They repressed the echidna for three hundred years, taking the richest lands in Downunda, and extorting tribute in gold and slaves. Theirs was undoubtedly an iron fist, but even then, the echidna had limited self rule. And even then, in their most hated foe, the echidna had some social similarities."
"Are you saying that peace on Angel Island is impossible?" Charmy seemed to give credence to what she had said, and seriously consider it. "That, eventually, one side must destroy or displace the other?"
"What I'm saying is that I don't think you can have it your way with the echidna, even if you do win. You don't have anyone to follow you. You don't have the political or economic structures to integrate the two societies, and you can't seriously expect the echidna or any of the other minor races of Angel Island to become perfect little Xialjyet drones, do you?"
"Well said, Lara," Miles commented, and gave a light laugh. "It seems I may not have needed to come in person at all."
"I did tell you I could handle it myself."
"Well, let's see what my old acquaintance here thinks first. This may still turn into a wasted trip, if he doesn't want any assistance…" Miles glanced up at Charmy with one fierce blue eye.
"I'll… I'll hear you out," Charmy relented, after only a few seconds pause. "Tell me what you can do for me, and what I can do for you."
Returning from their visit to the Lord of Goldenhive, Miles noted Lara's pensiveness. He shook his head, his mouth a tight line. It was obvious that, despite her earlier performance, she was troubled by what they had set into motion.
"What must be done… can be done no other way," he assured her, and himself. "The responsibility is mine, for what is to come."
"No," Lara cut in, quickly. "No. The responsibility is ours. That's how I want it to be."
He just let out a deep breath, and left it at that.
"If I could, I'd like to visit him," she then remarked.
Miles didn't look happy with her decision, but he respected it. "You can go see him, but be careful. You know what we have planned. I will see to our new… guest."
"In that case," she started to walk off, but waved over her left shoulder. "I think you're the one who has to be careful."
