Page 115 of Decadence

“So it appears we have a small problem,” Tarkun said carefully, his almost-black eyes unreadable, even to Ikriss. Tarkun was a weapons master by training. Before he’d ascended to the rank of Commander, he’d been in charge of the Imperial Military’s vast weapons inventory. Nothing much slipped past him. He had a prodigious memory and knew all kinds of obscure things about the inner workings of the Kordolian fleet and the ancient technology of their ancestors, the Zor. “Some noble faction or other has organized itself enough to start seeking human females from the other side of the Nine Galaxies. We do not know where they are, or who leads them. All we know is that they have contracted Ephrenians and Humans to do their bidding… and one former death-squad asshole who has a thing for torturing helpless females.” His gaze was ice-cold as he turned toward Ikriss. Tarkun’s eyes were a strange color for a Kordolian; a shade of red so deep and dark it was almost black. “Have you taken your blood-revenge on Sagarath Rexu yet, brother? And do not disappoint me by telling me he did not tell us everything we need to know.”

“I am yet to decide how I will deal with him,” Ikriss hissed, fighting down the tide of fury that rose up inside him as he thought of the bastard that had masterminded Sienna’s abuse onboard that Ephrenian ship.

Tarak had granted him blood-revenge rights over Sagarath Rexu, and now that Sienna was truly his, his desire to make Rexu experience a thousand hells of pain was stronger than ever.

“The prisoner knows little,” Tarak said, giving Ikriss a quelling look. Patience. “I have personally interrogated him and extracted anything of use. Even with Zharek’s truth serum, there is little he could add to what we already know. But it might be enough. I have the location of a contact in the Fourth Sector that was supposed to receive the humans from Rexu. I have the name of their supposed leader. Vordokar.” The General’s lips twisted into a cold smile. “A contrived name.”

“Vordokar?” Mardok’s rumbling laugh came from deep within his belly. “That’s High Kordolian, isn’t it? The Rightful One? Sounds typically pompous. What the fuck do they think they’re doing? The only heir I’d recognize is Xal, and he’s sensible enough that he doesn’t want a bar of that Kazharan dynastic nonsense. Do you have a real name for the leader of this infernal resistance, Tarak?”

“Not yet, but we will. I am sending one of the First to hunt down this contact, and from there we will follow the trail to the source. Think of it like a game of Anpikki. Each small token points to a bigger piece, yet to be revealed. We must be careful and patient. We still do not know the true extent of their power.” He turned and looked directly at Jerik. “There will be plenty of opportunity for aggression. But first, the trap must be laid.”

“And their minions on Earth must be dealt with, in case they grow cocky and start to think they are little emperors themselves,” Ikriss said softly, suddenly craving violence. Part of him wanted to wreak pure destruction to avenge the hurt they had inflicted upon his mate.

Sagarath Rexu, the Ephrenians, and the human Syndicate on Earth… He would destroy them all and put a ring of Callidum around Sienna’s little empire.

She would never know the full extent of it, because she was human, and far too innocent and honorable and pure to be able to comprehend some of the things he could—and would—do to his enemies…

To anyone that dared take her away from him.

He never wanted to see fear in her eyes ever again.

“In that, at least, we need to act quickly,” Iskar added. “Amongst the humans that were inciting violence in the New York riots, we found a small group of trained mercenaries.”

“Human mercenaries?” Tarkun looked almost disinterested. “Surely you would not have problems dispatching a group of humans.”

“They had plasma weapons,” Iskar said flatly. “Our kind of weapons.”

Tarkun, Mardak, and Jerik swore.

Ikriss and Tarak showed no surprise. Of course, the General knew everything, and Ikriss had been briefed on the situation by his men on the ground.

Callidum plasma guns.

In the hands of humans.

“Shit just got interesting,” Jerik growled, a hint of glee in his voice. Ikriss could sense the pent-up anger in him; he was spoiling for a fight. “Someone’s supplying Kordolian-issue weapons to any asshole in the Nine fucking Galaxies now? That is unacceptable.”

“And stupid,” Ikriss said softly. Cold anger crackled through him as he wondered who could be so reckless that they would supply their weapons to outsiders.

It reeked of desperation… and arrogance.

This was the act of someone who thought they could outsmart them, but who didn’t know a fucking thing about how the wider Universe worked.

Did they really believe the humans would just lay down and do their bidding if they were in possession of Kordolian tech?

Their advanced technology—the legacy of the Zor—was the source of their power.

They could not just hand it over to anyone, let alone humans that particularly resented their occupation of Earth.

Ikriss really had a particular dislike for idiots who would cause chaos just to gain power.

“We have the human mercenaries in detention; six in total,” Iskar informed them, although this wasn’t news to Ikriss. “Interestingly, our truth serums don’t work on them, but it wasn’t necessary to use them anyway, because they were fairly easy to crack once we disarmed them. None of them know where the weapons came from. They all had the same story—they were hired by a private company to stir up anti-Kordolian sentiment amongst humans. The plasma guns were delivered to them by drone. They had orders to wait and travel to any site where we showed up publicly… and attack us.”

“I wonder whether they knew they were being sent to their deaths,” Tarkun mused.

“Obviously not,” Iskar wore a grim half-smile. “They were fed untruths about our capabilities—and theirs. They seemed to think they had a chance.”

“So, who hired them?” Jerik demanded.

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