Chapter 9

The Lord Marshal was still stunned with the ease at which the man named Riddick had escaped. He had only been armed with a knife yet still he had defeated the soldiers that had gone to kill him. More to the point he had been revealed as a Furyan survivor, how that could be completely bewildered him, he was certain he had killed all the Furyans on that planet.

Then it was revealed that Riddick had some armed friends on this pitiful planet, as a transporter had caught sight of him and called in telling the Lord Marshal that they were in pursuit. This transporter had been shot down by Riddick's friends. He had sent out Vaako, one of his best commanders to locate and kill the renegade, but it still weighed heavily on his mind.

There was a commotion behind him and he turned to see an injured soldier walking, or rather stumbling, towards him. He recognised him as Buron, a captain who led the 6th company in his 12th battalion of the 1st division. This division and, in particular, the battalion, was one of the most renowned in his legions.

Captain Buron was also renowned as a fierce fighter, and one without fear, but the look on his face, and the look of him in general, spoke otherwise. He was clutching at his abdomen, his body was battered and bruised and there was a look of fear stretched across his face. Whether that was because he had failed or because of the person who had done this to him, the Lord Marshal was unsure.

"Well, Buron, what has happened to you? Been fighting I presume?"

"Yes, my lord, I have been fighting."

"That is what I like to, hear, tell me something, are the rumours I have heard true?"

"Rumours, lord?" Buron asked, he grimaced as his ribs hurt, fear flashed in his eyes.

"I have heard you led your company against one man. This one man defeated your company, killing every one of the thirty in your command. Then this one man came against you, but let you live. Why is that? Why did he let you live, yet kill all the rest of your company?" Realisation struck Buron. The Lord Marshal thought he was a traitor, thought he had sold his company out for execution and had turned on them himself.

"I don't know lord."

"You don't know? Well maybe I do." A smirk appeared on the lord's face. "You allowed this man to kill your men, told your men to stand down, then as they sought to defend themselves you turned on them also."

"No lord! Never! I would never betray you or your men, and certainly never the men who followed under my command."

"Then, pray tell me, why there were marks on the bodies from our own guns?"

"He took one of the weapons and used them against us." Buron's voice was quavering, he needed to tell the Lord Marshal about the message, even though he didn't know what that message was, but in this mood, the Lord Marshal would probably kill him on the spot if he did.

"That would all be well and good, Buron, if the injuries sustained came from the front, but as they were they came from behind, apparently you were behind your men, quivering when they were attacked, so that this man didn't hurt you."

"That's untrue, lord! I wasn't hiding, I never hide from anyone! I had been forced back; some unseen force lifted me up and threw me over the heads of my soldiers and into a wall, which is how I sustained my injuries."

The room was silent, everyone was plain faced as they heard this, then suddenly there was a guffaw of laughter from everyone present, even the dark skinned commander, Toll, was braying with laughter. As the laughter ceased, the Lord Marshal asked,

"So who is this man who commands unseen forces?" there was another chuckle which went around the room. The Lord Marshal held up his hand to quell the inevitable uproar of laughter.

"The man from the city hall, the one who faced Toll, he is the man who attacked us."

The lord's face darkened as realization struck him like a haddock in the face; Buron was no traitor. There was a definite aura of power that emanated from that man, he could feel it, and he had spoken of a message. The Lord Marshal realised that this man had attacked the company, and he had left Buron alive to deliver the message.

"This man that you speak of, he mentioned a message." He gestured to the men around him to leave. They all looked astounded that he had ventured to believe the obvious traitor. Toll gave Buron one last look of contempt before turning to leave the hall as well.

"Yes, lord. There is a message; he left me alive to deliver it."

"So what is his name, and what is the message?"

"His name he told me was Voldan Galdro, a General of Brilbane's forces, as for the message I don't know. He just told me to tell you that your enemies are catching up with you." The lord's face darkened again with anger upon hearing this and was about to lash out at the captain, but was held back as Buron held something out in his hand, "and to give you this."

At first the Lord Marshal didn't take it, just looked at the object. It was a diamond shaped piece of metal that looked silver, no wait; it was a light blue, with a laurel wreath surrounding a sceptre and slashed by a lightning bolt. He retrieved the object from the captain's hand. Almost as soon as he took the smooth material, his mind went blank and he felt weak.

…..

He looked around him, there was a beautiful city, the buildings all built on towers that loomed over the land, cities were in a tower, towns elevated hundreds of feet from the ground on masts, and everywhere was surround by forest.

Then he was in a city, the houses were beautiful, made out of a smooth stone the streets were all well made and without a single pot-hole, there were defences every three hundred yards or so; a bastion with battlements built in to allow soldiers to shoot down upon invaders, there were powerful guns on turrets, rocket launchers on pintles and light machine guns also mounted on pintles.

People were walking around going about there everyday business and all seemed oblivious to the Lord Marshal's presence. He walked up a street then as he turned a corner there was a flash, and the Lord Marshal was once again out of the city and on the ground outside.

There were three children in front of him, staring at him silently. He looked behind him, but there was no one there. He looked back at the three children, the smallest and youngest was a girl, in the middle was a boy, and the oldest was a girl. There was something about the children, about their unblinking stares that unnerved the lord.

He turned away, but the three were in front of him again. He turned again, but again the children were before him, their eyes boring into his head.

He turned again but the same thing happened. The lord span around, but they were there again. He kept spinning, until the children were a blur. He stopped, but the world didn't, in fact it was spinning faster. He was getting dizzy, but still everything span. Faster and faster it went. An electric blue strip of light appeared in the middle, cutting the blur in half.

As the blur span faster the light shone brighter, until there was a dazzlingly bright flash which temporarily blinded the lord. When his vision recovered the world was in flames, the city that was in front of him was lying in ruins. The forestry that surrounded the city was also flattened and burning. The children that had stood so hauntingly were now lying dead on the floor, which was throbbing and shaking. There was a massive thunderstorm ahead that covered all of the land, one the likes he had never seen before, the thunder claps shook the land even more, the lightning seared through the sky in blinding flashes.

Suddenly the thunder all rolled into one to create a voice that was harsh and unforgiving, a voice that sent chills down the spine of the Lord Marshal, which was a thing unheard of before. He wasn't afraid of anything, well that was what he likes to think, yet he was afraid of a thunderstorm that sounded like it had a voice.

"This is what you did to my planet." The voice said. "Your soldiers destroyed my people; your weapons destroyed my home. You destroyed my family!" the voice was growing louder and more menacing with every part that was said.

"I didn't destroy this planet; I have never visited this planet." There was no reply, the voice carried on as if he hadn't even spoken, then he remembered, this is a message, that been pre-recorded.

"You shall pay for what you did to my planet, to my people, to my children!"

"I have never hurt your family!" shouted the Lord Marshal.

"Your soldiers will be destroyed, and you will perish in the harshest possible manner!" the voice boomed. The Lord Marshal looked to where the children were, but they had disappeared and had been replaced by a man in armour that looked familiar, his body burned, and scratched, limbs broken out of place, one arm missing. The Lord Marshal found himself moving towards the body. As he approached, the body stirred. When he was right next to it, he realised he was looking at a mutilated burned and defeated image of himself.

Then this body sat up, its malevolent eyes piercing through his. Its arm outstretched and tried to grasp the lord who fell back. The creature was on its front now and was crawling towards the Necro marshal, a harsh growl emanating from its toothless mouth. The lord crawled back, trying to escape, but the creature kept on coming, moving faster and faster.

"This is what I will do to you!" the voice roared. Lightning bolts flashed through sky. A large rumble of thunder shook the ground so powerfully that it felt as if it would open up and consume him. Then to his horror, the beast was towering over him, clawing at his armour, scratching at his face. Then suddenly the beast loomed in and the world went dark. The Lord Marshal screamed.

He opened his eyes and saw he was back on his ship; he was on the floor his back against the wall. Buron was kneeling over him, a concerned look on his face. For one vile second the Lord Marshal thought he was the beast trying to kill him and take him to the gates of Hell. He surged up, proving to the beast that he was not scared.

"You don't scare me, beast!" he roared, and charged at a bewildered Buron. Using his powers he thundered into his chest, throwing him into the wall and killed him instantly. His vision cleared, and saw that it was not a beast, but Buron. He shrugged, 'he was a failure anyway' he thought and moved to the outer deck of the ship.

...

He was surrounded by his soldiers, all of whom were cowed by his presence as he stood there looking over the array of his ships and the soldiers marching in and out of them. He was proud to be CinC of all these soldiers, whose armour glistened a dull silver in the afternoon sunlight. As he looked around the deck, he saw all the eyes look to the floor as his met theirs, all but the eyes of the two commanders on deck; Toll and Fengo. Fengo was a lesser commander who led a brigade in Tolls Division. Vaako, he knew, was busy going after that no-good renegade Riddick, and he had sacrificed one of his best Purifiers just in case Vaako failed. But now the Lord Marshal had another problem on his hands, a problem much larger than the one Riddick posed. This problem was with a Brilbanian, and not just any Brilbanian, but a commander, who were renowned for their power and skill at fighting. He still remembered the report that Toll had relayed to him telling him about the losses and the near defeat. But his problem lay with one of the most feared of the Brilbanian commanders. He had done his research on Brilbane before sending Toll to attack it, and was thankful when one of his sources on that planet had told him that the feared Voldan was off-world. The invasion could have gone ill if he were there, all knew of the effect he had on his own soldiers, meaning they probably wouldn't have broke. Then a shout pulled him out of his reverie.

"A ship is approaching, lord, coming in fast."

"Send a fighter to intercept it, they must have news." The Lord Marshal said dismissively.

"But lord, this is not one of our ships. I don't know whose ship it is." At this information he swung furiously to the speaker, who nearly recoiled with the vehemence of the glare. Then he saw the ship over the soldiers shoulder and a shiver of fear coursed through his body as he recognised instantly what type of ship it was, mainly due to the smoothness of the outer armour and the shape of its body; it was Brilbanian. As far as he was aware there were no other Brilbanians on this planet.

As the ship flew past, he saw that the cockpit's side door was open and an armoured man, hooded cloaked, running down the makeshift ramp the door posed and jumping as he reached the end. It was an impossible feat that not even the best long jumper could manage, yet this man completed it as if it was as easy as jumping a puddle in the street. Two glints of silver appeared from the bottom of his gauntlets and plunged them into two of his soldiers' chests. As he landed, he rolled pressing a button underneath his middle finger on each palm of his gauntlets to retract the blades. As he rose he drew his 18 inch knives and slashed upwards at two other soldiers. The Lord Marshal saw the hesitation on the hooded and armoured mans face as he recognised some of the soldiers who now wore the armour of the Necromongers. A surge of pride ran through him as he realised that the attacker was at a disadvantage; he wouldn't attack his own soldiers, but with on command, they would attack him. Other Necromonger soldiers attacked but they were cut down immediately and easily by the skill of the knifeman. As he was killing the soldiers he didn't recognise, the lord knew that the hooded man, who was obviously the Brilbanian, Voldan, was trying to get to him. Eventually, after watching the Brilbanian work, and gauging his skill he held up his hand to call off all the Necros trying to arrest Voldan. He stood there with his arm outstretched and watched the soldiers part to let Voldan through.

"I will make you pay tenfold for every person that died on Brilbane, you pathetic cowardly bastard."

"Why will you not join me, like the others did? It would save you the trouble of trying to fight me."

"What; to become your slave, to obey every diminishing command you give? I don't think so." Voldan's voice had become cold, and sent shivers down all but the Lord Marshals back.

"You will live a life of freedom, without looking over your shoulders anymore. You will be a commander in the strongest army in the universe."

"I do not want to be a commander in your flea-ridden army. I want revenge on all the lives of my people which you stole!"

"They had the choice, they could either convert or die."

"Not much of a choice then, they are both exactly the same thing in my eyes. But," at this point there was a malevolent tone in his voice, "since you 'offered them a choice' as you say, I will offer you the same. You can either die here where no one can see you, or die in front of all your poxy followers."

"Even in front of your own people?" The Lord Marshal could see the hurt cross his shaded features.

"They stopped being my people when they joined with you."

"So why didn't you kill them when you attacked?"

"Do not try to trick me into me being the bad guy! Do not take me for a soft fool, If they attacked me, I would kill them like I will happily kill the rest of you, but since they were once my people, I show them respect. A word I never expect the likes of you to understand." He pointed his knife blade at the Lord Marshal as he spoke the last sentence.

"So you will not convert?"

"No I will not convert, but I am still waiting for your answer." The Lord Marshal didn't answer, he just grunted and charged using all of his speed and elbowed a thunderous blow into Voldans chest, sending him flying into the soldiers behind, and knocking some off the ship in the process. The Lord Marshal was impressed, most people he did that to died almost instantly from heart failure and many pierced organs from shattered ribs, even if they were wearing armour. But Voldan just stood brushed himself off, and walked forward. The only difference the Lord Marshal saw was that Voldan was angrier, and his armour was cracked from where he hit, but strangely, it was repairing itself. Voldan saw where his enemy was looking.

"Nano-bots, gotta love 'em." Then he charged forward, but didn't use his full speed, he was saving that. He had underestimated the Lord Marshals power, he saw he had mystical powers when he saw him take that poor man's soul. But he never thought he could move that fast. He swung his knives at his enemy, aiming for the arms, neck head and chest, but none of his attacks landed a blow. The Lord Marshal was smirking.

"You will never hit me, my powers are far beyond yours you pathetic half-breed."

Just as he finished speaking Voldan launched a kick aimed for his chest and sent him flying from his feet and into his watching soldiers. He stood again and walked towards Voldan.

"You're not fast at all. You just wait while your opponents are talking for you to attack, how pathetic."

"You haven't seen my speed yet, do not underestimate me, I can move twice as fast as you if I wish."

"I can't wait to see it."

Voldan walked towards the lord so that they met. They started circling, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Voldan was the first to move, slashing his knives twice. Both attacks missed as the Lord Marshal dodged. It was Voldan's turn to dodge as the lord sent out two stinging blows that would have grounded him. They continued circling, sometimes stepping in then jumping back again to test each other. The Lord Marshal used his speed to attack Voldan each blow hitting the desired place and grounding the Brilbanian. Using this time the lord moved back to get a four headed pole-axe like weapon from one of his soldiers. When he turned around again, the general was up on his feet and facing him, his hood still over his face but one could clearly see the snarl on his face and the light in his eyes, his knives facing outwards towards the Lord.

Voldan ran forward again, his vision becoming masked by his rage, His knives flailing well before he reached his enemy. He was losing control and fast, if he carried on going like he was he would turn full Draktün, something which he hated doing as he became a danger to everyone around him, not just his enemy. The flailing was Voldans way of trying to regain control, though to the soldiers watching the battle, it looked like he had gone mad, and didn't know how to fight. The Lord Marshal looked around with an amused expression on his face, then looked back to Voldan. He charged as fast as he could towards the General sending him hurtling back yet again. This time there were no soldiers behind him to cushion his movement, he hit the deck and slid towards the edge. The Brilbanian knew that he was going to fall, unless he could grip on to the lip of the edge of the platform on which they were fighting. He flew over the edge, and using the small time window given to him twisted his body and flicked the switch under his fore-finger to extend his finger-claws. Luckily his fingers reached the lip and he embedded his claws into it, then just before he reached the edge he stopped, dangling off the ship and leaving a two inch trail that was cut deep where his claws had made contact. His knives weren't so lucky, he saw them plummeting to earth as he stopped himself from doing the same.

He heaved himself up, his ribs a mass of pain from where his enemy had struck him. Judging by the pain he had broken more than two, possibly three or four from both charges from the Lord Marshal. He knew that if it wasn't for his armour he would have died the first time.

As he stood up he saw the Lord Marshal walking towards him carrying a deadly and scary looking four bladed axe with a murderous expression on his face. His soldiers were falling in behind him ready to see the killing blow that would be delivered to this man who dared to attack their leader.

"You're not destined to kill me, and you will never succeed." The Lord said cockily then swung the axe at him that would have cut Voldan in half, had he not dodged out of the way. As he came behind him the Lord Marshal sent out a ferocious back kick which struck Voldan in the stomach, winding him and knocking him to the ground seven feet away.

"You are really starting to piss me off, you little rodent."

"Oh really?" Voldan asked in a wheeze, still trying to get his breath back. "You pissed me off a long time ago. Hell, I bet you even pissed your mother off, that's why you're in such a bad mood." The Lord Marshal screamed in rage at this mention of his mother and ran to where Voldan was lying, lifted the weapon above his head and brought it down towards Voldans head with enough force to cut it in half. He instinctively held his arms up in defence and roared in pain as the axe blade struck his Gauntlets. The armour had protected his arms from being severed, but one of arms had shattered under the weight of the blow.

"Why won't you die!" The Lord bellowed, then brought the axe down again but this time Voldan rolled out of the way and laboriously stood up. The Black clad man reached for his sword, but never grasped it as the Necromonger CinC swung round and smashed the axe through his armour and cutting deep in Voldans skin, ripping flesh and tearing muscle, his armour housing a large gash across the front which even now was being repaired by the nano-bots. Voldan spun through the air, smashing face first on to the deck and sliding across the polished floor, and fell off the edge, leaving a trail of blood. The Lord Marshal ran to edge to see if Voldan was hanging on, but he wasn't, he was plummeting to Earth. He grinned.

"Goodbye, Voldan, looks like you won't be killing me after all." Then suddenly as the Necro chief was watching him; Voldan disappeared, not a trace of him insight apart from the long and thick blood trail that painted the deck near the edge. He frowned seeing this disappearing act, then thought nothing of it, he was gone, and judging by the amount of blood he was losing must be near death. He turned round and found himself looking at a woman dressed in a grey, low cut dress and a black hooded bolero covering her head and shoulders. She was a beauty of a woman, possibly even more so than Vaako's spouse, who was a fine looking woman.

"Well, Daecia, it doesn't look like you will be seeing your husband again."

...

Voldan had landed in a wooded area and let out muffled cries of pain as he crashed through the branches. He hit the floor that was covered in leaves and grass and twigs. He tried to lift himself up and looked around trying to discern where he was but his vision was failing him. The last thing he saw before passing out was a manlike figure approaching him and the cold touch of steel on his throat.

-The End-

-To be continued-

Hope you enjoyed this story, the second part will be coming up soon, see if you can guess where it is going to be based.