Page 66 of The Omega's Unexpected Bounty
That’s not to say this plan was easy. The Ryba had power – for the first time in hundreds of years. A split Augo made the two-decade peace precarious; a united Augo was best for them, hence the creature’s loan. Back and forth the beast slithered along the ocean floor – darting from side to side as it swam.
We lived on an ocean planet, but the air was better for attacks and quick transportation. Vessels could be detected within the water, but these creatures were avoided when found. I suspected they were allowed to breed in the wild as a natural guard and a reminder of the Ryba’s capabilities.
We moved quick but traveled agonizingly slow through caverns, coral fields, white crystal-lit dark tunnels and finally within sight of the Matros’ island. The eel turned away, then stopped, and I raised an eyebrow in wonder. It was intelligent that much was obvious but almost uncomfortably so. The Ryba helped us to breathe underwater, made sure our Femeni and Omegas delivered safely and provided gigantic monsters that seemed to sense my desire. My lips thinned, and I pushed against the slick, greasy membrane and into the open, cold salt water. From behind, I saw the membrane reform, then flatten before the eel slithered away into the aquatic darkness.
It took several minutes before I could make my way over to the beach. If I still had anything electronic with me, I would have queried Matros’ government. I attempted before I left and got no answer. Rodion said he would continue to try. Our kingdoms were still cordial, and thereshouldbe communication. There are several reasons why that could happen, but neither one was reassuring. I suspect that something might have happened to Matros, and I got my corrected answer via a line of darting silver spheres that raced to my location.
Not ideal.
Either one could shock me into submission or worse, and I stood within a ring of them. One sphere hummed and projected a Matros’ holographic image. His eyes narrowed, and he frowned more than usual. “You are invading my kingdom,unsuccessfully.”
I breathed in deep and held out my hands. I would have preferred a Vibro-Axe but not a good idea when you are sneaking into someone’s kingdom.
“My mate’s in danger… and yours.”
He moved to the right, and I only saw part of his image via the hologram. Amid the background crashing waves and surrounding wind, I heard him speak Peter’s name several times. With each repeat, he grew louder, and his half-frown grew. The sphere broke their ring formation, then separated into two lines – one on each side. I got the silent message to go to the castle. If I misunderstood, I was going anyway. Faster than ever I ran while the air burned in my lungs. As I left the beach, a white sphere ship landed ahead of me while the top bubble melted away.
I jumped inside and grabbed a black chair for support, but I didn’t sit down. Faster than I hoped but still slower than I wanted, I streaked through the air. My eyebrows rose when we didn’t stop at the landing pad below. The grand, wooden double doors opened, and the ship contracted – so much I had to crouch down. It wasn’t made for going down living quarters, and yet it did. Bits of brick, furniture and decorative shells splintered while I darted down hallways I barely remember from official visits. The ship slowed, and I frowned with impatience as it melted open. I beat the guards to the jail entrance but not Matros. Again, I cursed my desire to come weaponless. I could’ve used it now, although, my lack of one may have allowed Matros to trust me.
I swallowed hard and stared at Matros held high in the air by Balo. All Soturi are warriors but some more than others. I’ve seen the videos on him on the Ryba ship before we made our peace. The same male who fought the Ryba king and precursors to the giant eels, had a swollen eye and a trickle of blood dripped out his nose. As if he weighed nothing, Balo shook him about easily – except it wasn’t. I know my brother’s weaknesses and advantages. I’ve always approached him with a healthy precaution be it in the dojo or in the sometimes more dangerous royal hallways. He is the better politician, and I the more capable fighter. My talents were with my people, and he was smarter. I can give Balo his compliments, but he wasn’t a fighter like this nor was he so strong he could lift Matros with ease.No, but a simulacrum can.
He saw me and frowned before whispering something I couldn’t hear. Orbs flew past us, and I jolted forward while an explosion collapsed the stone behind us. Bits of hot rubble pelted down against my back, and I kept Caan in my sight. He wasn’t moving, but he and my unborn son were still alive.
‘Balo’ held out his hand. “Stop. I can explain.”
Caan’s voice drew out. “N-not Balo.”
“I know,” I whispered. Part of me wished it wasn’t, and I wondered what the greatest betrayal was.
It was just a few heartbeats but time slowed while I took in the situation. Fighting isn’t concentrating on one thing but instead taking a image of everything. Peter’s disembodied head was on the floor or rather his duplicate. Tiny – the simulacrum that knew Caan longer than I did lay smoldering face down against stone. One of the orbs shocked him. It wasn’toverlydamaged, but it was both a failsafe and a weakness my people programmed into them. A way to shut them down without requiring massive repairs to the physical form.
I looked at the sim who lowered the unconscious Matros onto the floor.
“Don’t,” he said. “There’s still time to fix this.”
Soturi men aren’t known for tears. It’s the third sex, but my eyes stung from the betrayal. “Fix this... Is that what you call it?” I inhaled deep. Amid the smell of dust, explosive residue and sweat, I smelled Caan’s scent. He didn’t have the sour, sick odor of rotting meat. So far he was ok, but he shouldn’t be here. The dusty smell of concern and worry was here as was natural. For now, I had to deal with the copy before me.
“You are Volardi,” said ‘Balo.’
“I am, but you are not, and not because of the combat simulacrum you inhabit.” I walked over to him and pushed Caan’s hoverchair out of the way and behind me, as I fought every instinct to hold him and tell him everything was all right. He made a point of saying he wasn’t fragile. He wasn’t as hard as he liked to believe, but he wasn’t soft either. Caan was my love, and I gave him the highest gesture a Volardi could: respect to another warrior.Histime to fight passed and another would come. This moment was for me. My foot slipped out of my sandal, and I picked up Matros’ long thick Vibro-Blade with my toes then grabbed it.
“Don’t Graden! I did thisforyou.”
In the background, I heard Nate moan to a headless simulacrum. “Peter... you in there somewhere?”
My lips thinned. Caan’s father violated the greatest of Volardi traditions – try to take another’s mate forcefully, and yet I saw something comparable. Volardi believe in family. It’s what stayed my hand when it would have been easier to deal with Balo. My ‘real’ brother desired a throne, but he remained my brother. Only one family member betrayed us.
“Why did you do it, First Father?” I asked. “Tell me it wasn’t to leave.”
“The Emperor is weak. We could have rebuilt the population within a generation if he was willing to engage–”
“– in forbidden techniques,” I finished. “Genetic alteration of embryos, clones who die quickly, forced conversion of the entire Earthling population.”
“We are Volardi. Other races come and go, and we survive.”
“Not at the expense of others.”
“Graden, we killed the Gloom as we did to those who didn’t join us.”
