“Interesting!” a voice screeched from above. “So your irresponsible kind can understand the value of precious equipment and the hardships it takes to replace it. Almost had me fooled.”
Fifteen pairs of legs, tapping loudly, brought down a person from a roof beside Janine. The chief quartermaster had the dubious honor of hailing from the Malformed, a group of New Breeds famous for their nomadic lifestyle that involved cannibalizing humans around their caves and hunting down women for procreation. Even among the Malformed, the people afflicted with various mutations, Chak was a special case.
His body was six meters long, protected by segmented chitin shields of various sizes. Hairy antennae that could detect molecular vibrations protruded from the plates’ joints. His sunken, four-pitch black eye-panels focused on Janine, betraying no readable expression. The toxicognaths, the fangs underneath his maw, clanked with annoyance. The chief quartermaster coiled around Janine, and his legs touched her back, lowering the jacket.
“Typical,” Chak grumbled, speaking in the perfectly clean Common. His legs rummaged nimbly in the bag at his tail, finding glasses and a medical kit. Janine’s nose caught the disgusting smell of antiseptic hissing over the damaged implant, and the Malformed clawed legs tinkered with the exposed piece of metal.
“No need for coddling,” Janine said at a painkiller’s prick.
“I’ll be the one deciding it, barbarian,” the chief quartermaster said haughtily. “How are you even using your arm? It should’ve affected the shoulder blade.”
“Wolfkins are built differently,” Janine told him.
To her knowledge, Chak was never involved in any human hunts. Shortly before the Wolfkins dominated his tribe, his parents debated whether or not to cull the strange kit. As a way of showing his gratitude for his salvation, Chak joined the military after leaving the orphanage, quickly taking a liking to maintaining logistics chains and rising through the ranks. After decades of exemplary service, the command promoted him to the rank of chief quartermaster, a person responsible for the equipment of the entire Wolf Tribe, much to his and Wolfkins’ chagrin.
“There. Not even my da could’ve patched it better.” Chak slapped Janine behind the ears, forcing her to stay still as he quickly applied a sterile bandage. “Should last a few hours. Then off to the cyber crafters.”
“Thanks…”
“The armor that was so graciously given to you by our glorious nation, Warlord Janine, costs more than three battle tanks.” Chak leaned over her head, looking into her eyes. “In what condition did you return the poor thing to me?”
“Trashed.” Janine shrugged.
“How apt the word! Trashed!” Chak’s toxicognaths rattled in indignation. When arguing with the Wolfkins, the logistics officer never showed any concern. Be it a warrior, a male, or even a warlord, he demanded, getting in their faces, a respect for the precious equipment. A few scouts and a wolf hag even challenged him for the supposed disobedience… His venom introduced them to a world of pain. “One hundred man hours just to fix it! You think I have time to spare personnel for it? Our factories are overwhelmed, repairing the damaged vehicles and producing ammunition; the work crews suffer from a lack of sleep…” He paused, listening to a report from a communicator mounted on an antenna near a small square hole in the carapace where his natural ear was. A long sigh left his mandibles. “Great. A transport got damaged.”
“What about the civilians?” Thoughts raced feverishly through Janine’s head. A possibility of a raider’s attack was cast aside. A sand reaper, perhaps? No, these beasts don’t travel here. A rogue mechanism? A bioweapon set loose? “My pack is ready to march.” They conquered this city; the safety of the new citizens was their sacred duty.
“The thing was empty.” Chak’s mandibles drummed a note of disappointment on his carapace. “Command claims it was a training incident. And one of my workers just broke a leg transporting supplies from a factory.”
“I understand your frustration, Chak.” Janine told him honestly. They could not stay here. The plan was to relocate the population to the Outer Lands. Then, in thirty years or so, the terraforming teams would restore life in this region to a suitable level, and a new generation of humans could settle in.
“Do you?” The Malformed blinked, stubbornly removing his glasses despite his poor eyesight. “I don’t think you do, Janine. My workers, admittedly with some help from Ignacy and other initiative boys and girls, have worked miracles to keep our equipment in top shape. Understand that we only have a single crawler’s resources to maintain production for an entire army. Fifty thousand people rely on us to have their needs met! This can’t go on. Our army is slowly grinding to a halt under the weight of disrepair. I have had to confiscate materials from the local factories like a common looter! Speak to the commander. Make her see the reason! We need a camp so we can recuperate, get fresh supplies, replenish our medical supplies, start production, get proper food, and not use half-broken battle suits…”
“She won’t listen.” Janine raised a paw to silence his outburst. Ravager refused to listen to anyone, forcing her army to be constantly on the move, felling entire countries in weeks. Janine herself was too low on the command totem pole, not even a first- or second-generation Wolfkin. She belonged to the eighth generation, strong enough to become a warlord, but not influential enough to have Ravager’s ear. “We can stay and argue all day, but this won’t solve anything. How can I help you?”
“I need more hands. Since we are abandoning the city, we must requisition everything we can before Ravager whips the army into another march. I can’t send regular soldiers into the factories; those places are literal hellholes of toxic hazards, the Ice Fangs have their paws full escorting refugees, and the worker teams are tired to the point of making mistakes and risking slipping into the sludge like a common grunt.”
“Hire the locals?” Janine offered.
“I did! Two hundred people have enlisted, and three hundred more are being interviewed, but Janine, I can’t in good conscience send them in there unless I want the medics at my upper segment. These people have skin conditions, falling organs, and only the Spirits know what else. In short, they’ll need months of healing. The Wolfkins are sturdy enough to gather the supplies without risking their lungs. But right now, I can’t get any because your people are gathered on the main square for the mourning ceremony that refuses to end!” Chak’s legs twitched. The Malformed lacked facial features to show emotions, but he had long since learned how to imitate easy-to-understand signs through body movements.
“I’ll solve the problem,” Janine promised him.
Chak bowed and hurried to the top of the building, shouting orders into the communicator. The warlord touched a bandage over the wound left by the commander’s claw, noticing several wet spots. No cause for alarm. Ravager’s mercy had healed the lung-threatening damage, and the rest will soon follow. She squared her shoulders and went to the site of the farewell’s ceremony.
Despite the early hour and the recent traces of battle, streets crowded with life. Legs shattered barricaded apartment doors, and firm arms escorted those who refused to heed the public announcement thundering from every dynamic. Some locals lashed out, but what good is a knife against metal armor designed to withstand gunfire? Soldiers simply ignored the outbursts, disarmed citizens, put rebreathers in their mouths, and dressed them in hazmat suits. Members of the Investigation Bureau listed items left behind so that the Reclamation Army could either transfer them later or reimburse lost goods to its new people. Army units escorted crowds of people onto trucks. Crying children, distraught wives, shocked husbands… And wounded—so many wounded. The Tribe’s assault shattered any illusion of resistance, and here and there, former guards helped the evacuation process.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The former mayor and several of her officials dangled in the wind from the headless statue of Techno-Queen. The fools themselves had admitted their role in negotiating trade deals with slavers and raiders, trading their own people for advanced chips, terminals, and unavailable resources, proving their guilt. A swift judicial process resulted in their hanging. A new acting mayor was elected from the ranks of the royal guard, a sad-eyed woman who had quenched the despair of her mutilated son left in the tower. She made speeches, convincing former guards to cooperate, and traveled over the city, persuading civilians to leave their homes peacefully. Her words convinced over a hundred families to reveal their hiding place in the sewers, and the former guards escorted them to the exit before returning to check for anyone else.
Ultimately, some bastards who aided in throttling life from this region will escape the righteous punishment. The Investigation Bureau didn’t have enough time to read through every ledger and note to separate the guilty from the ignorant. Such was life. If the bastards turned over a new leaf, Janine was willing to let bygones be bygones. Should they return to their old ways, their fate would be sealed.
Not everything went smoothly. Some soldiers tried to partake in local women or men, claiming them as ‘spoils of war’. These were mostly fools from the Core Lands, youngsters who had joined recently. Dragena ordered them hanged next to the former mayor. Other soldiers were caught looting. These fools endured fifty chain lashes in the open, toxic air and received orders to preserve the very items they attempted to steal. Should any item go missing, so would the hand of the one assigned to guard it. Janine considered this an overly lenient punishment. Any of her soldiers caught looting would have her skin skinned, and any female who acted on her sexual impulse would soon find herself drowned at the bottom of the poisonous river.
“Order is best upheld through a combination of fear, example, and respect.” Janine remembered Terrific’s words. “See, there was a story the Blessed Mother told me. A general was ordered to present his army to a petulant emperor, yet because of nature, a river…”
“What is a river?” Martyshkina asked then, pressing her paws together, her eyes burning from excitement. She’s ever enjoyed learning about the Old World and its miracles.
“It is a large body of water flowing in the line.” Terrific jumped from the pile of dying, partially skinned raiders, ignoring their pleadings. “Imagine! A cold water, winding around high and green hills, bridges thrown across it, cars racing along its sides, honking at the splashing cubs! It is also wide! So wide that even a tank can drown in it…”
“Bullshit!” the young Janine fired. “Ain’t no way such a thing could exist. There isn’t that much water in the whole world! And why would anyone swim in the cold…”
The world spun. Terrific kicked, cartwheeling Janine into the rocky wall. The warlord’s claws ripped open gashes on the girl’s neck and jaw, but the warlord wasn’t done yet. She caught the falling girl on her claws. The warlord treated the cubs given to her pack with mercy; not a single claw damaged a vital organ, and she shook the wounded to the ground for the rest to lick her wounds.
“False.” Terrific flashed a smile, stretching the word. “There were such marvels everywhere in the Old World, and you, bitches, will see them yet, should you listen to the teacher and learn. Back to the story. A flood barred the general’s army, and an official arrived, announcing that the emperor had sentenced the general, his family, and his entire army to death for such failure. The general asked what the price of treason was, and upon hearing that it was also death, he beheaded the official. In less than a month, the nation had a new empire. Now, wretches, what is the lesson here?”
“That the general is a traitor?” a male suggested hesitantly.
“How is he a traitor?” Martyshkina argued. “A leader is responsible for those under his command. Yeah, the dude made a mistake and should’ve paid for it. But his troops and family were blameless! Rather than letting them die, he rose and rinsed the injustice through his might. He is awesome! Had more people done so, the Old World would’ve never died.”
“No balance in punishment,” Janine said stubbornly, embarrassed by the humiliation. “If you punish everything by death without restraint, of course you’ll have a rebellion on your paws. Like, why not, right? If you are going to die, you might as well go out swinging.” When Terrific’s shadow covered her, she looked around for support and shrank.
They were in a gorge Terrific had chosen after her pack had found and hunted down a large raiding party responsible for pillaging villages outside the Reclamation Army’s border. The warlord made a deal with the elders: she’d take care of the danger, and they would join the nation. Janine, Martyshkina, and the other youngsters did not participate in this glorious battle, observing it from afar under a shaman’s guidance.
Terrific broke every bone in the legs and arms of the enemy leaders and brought them here, chaining the rest of the raiders to the gorge’s stone walls and hiding them in the blessed shade, forcing hundreds to witness how their proud leaders slowly broke down, enduring the burning touch of the sun during the day and the warlord’s caresses at night. The newest members of the Terrific Pack sat in the circle while their leader imparted her immaculate interrogation skills on them.
Janine struggled at first, wanting to speak out against the torture, but a boy beat her to it by standing up to Terrific. This humiliation was too much to bear, and she leapt by his side, ready to guard the buffoon. A second later, Martyshkina was at her side, calling her a fool but also standing her ground.
The whole pack burst into laughter, silenced by a raised paw. Terrific did not punish them, a rare occurrence even on her best days. Instead, she forced the villains to confess. They sang tales of burying people up to their necks and leaving them out in the burning sun. They spoke of murder, torture, and how they forced slaves to fight in the pits for fun, promising freedom to the victor, only to take that hope away. Pity vanished from Janine’s heart as she listened to the stories of what they had done to the young women and men.
They didn’t deserve hope or a future. Three days—that’s how long it took to reduce the arrogant monsters to a whimpering mess.
“Not correct, and not fully wrong either!” Terrific tossed Janine into the air and caught her, kissing the girl on the forehead. She seated Janine in the crook of her arm and pointed at the enemy leaders. “A proper balance, ain’t that the truth? Balance is essential in everything. Eat too much and you get fat. Eat too little, and your body won’t be able to fight. Too much terror, and a broken person can become a berserker. See, if you kill a foe cleanly and leave dignity to a bastard, yeah, another moron might try the same. Because everyone dies, so what’s the big deal? But if you set an example by taking away every shred of honor and bathing the bastards in indignity and their own feces for everyone to see, shattering their personalities, it’ll serve as an excellent lesson in what not to do. No one wants their legacy to be sullied by songs that tell how they cried like a cub at the end. Listen well, young and old!” Terrific spun, raising a paw. “Everything has different gradations, death included. Every cruelty must have a reason.” She strode to the closest chained raider and raised his head. “You won’t be a problem anymore, will you, boy?”
“N-no…” the weeping teenager whimpered. “Never! I’ll never raid another village again! Please, a swift death, please…”
“Then congratulations, citizen!” Terrific let go of Janine and snapped her fingers. Her pack broke the chains and brought water to the confused prisoners. “The sentence for your crimes is life. Found a new mining village. Ten years of labor and honest lives are what you owe to us. Preferably a happy offspring too, but that I can’t enforce.” She grabbed a bleeding, mindless raider from the pile of corpses in the sun and stopped, examining the woman’s swollen limbs. “Janine, it is your birthday. Do the honors; pick one for yourself; the treat is on me. I suggest the fattest one.”
“Happy birthday, Janine!” The rest of the youngsters cheered, and the pack joined in. “Pick the fatty, pick the fatty!”
Before leaving this place, the raiders learned that the Wolf Tribe never let anything go to waste. Not a single captured raider returned to banditry for years to come, and many later joined the army after serving their sentence. The village they founded soon grew into a city famous for its safety and the Wolfkins’ reverence, much to the Wolf Tribe’s awkwardness.
The Wolf Tribe acted as monsters so the Dynast could build a just society where cruelty was no longer needed. Why would anyone praise them for such actions?
Did the raiders maintain order out of fear, or did they abandon their evil ways after encountering civilization and establishing a set of laws that could create a prosperous future and protect them and their children? Janine wasn’t sure. As the decades passed, she gradually shed the belief that torture could lead to any positive outcome. It wasn’t a path for her. But she took the lesson to heart, showing wisdom when she meted out the punishment.
Restraint was a virtue that was important in building a better future. And so were examples and consequences.