Chapter 13
Arthur yawned as he cooked breakfast, throwing in an assortment of vegetables to go along with the eggs he’d decided would become an omelette fairly soon into the process. Tulla wasn't exactly fond of some of the ingredients he was throwing in, but, they were healthy for her, or, so he’d been told, and she had a tendency to smother his breakfasts in ketchup anyways, so, it wasn't like taste was entirely a problem for her. Ah, to have the palate of a child once again. To be able to deal with burned eggs, hotdogs and copious quantities of generic condiments without his mind helpfully reminding him that what he ate was crap. Those had been simpler times, when kraft dinner had reined supreme and the epitome of fine dining was his father's cheap cuts of steak, french fries and extra saucy caesar salad when mom was out of town… A small series of sniffs resounding from the trailer made Arthur smile as he sleepily glanced towards a near-levitating Tulla who, with a blanket still held in her hands, wandered to the outdoor cooler to retrieve a bottle of orange juice. She cracked it, chugged the damned thing like a fratboy with a sixty of jack, then promptly plummeted into her camping chair nearby, curling back up into a ball of semi-conscious sleep that had Arthur shaking his head.
“That’s why an hour.” He intoned, not holding his punches as the small girl nearly distended her jaw with a yawn revealing rows within her serrated maw.
She didn't answer him, merely rolling over in the double-sized chair to snuggle back into herself, oblivious to the world around her. Arthur shrugged, continuing to cook while he listened to his country playlist on repeat. He’d never exactly been a giant fan of the genre back home, but with his departure from Earth, Arthur had found a certain—comradery with some of the tales the songs offered. John Denver, for instance, was a—hard and emotional listen at times, but he never turned him off. It just—resonated too well for him to spurn… He spent a span finishing their meal, packing a lunch made from the same ingredients on another fire nearby, folding the scrambled concoction into soft tortillas for when they got hungry later in the day and plating his actual breakfast for himself and Tulla.
“By the way, Jade and Kilk are coming by shortly to join us for what I have planned today, so, you’d better finish eating else they're going to see you in your pyjamas.”
That seemed to tickle the girl's interest a fraction as she appeared to stiffen in her chair, no doubt mind finally deciding to wake up as she slowly rolled over to eye him with one crossed pupil. She considered Arthur for a moment as he paid her antics little mind, cleaning off his cast iron skillet with a cloth and preparing to eat his food.
“Why are they coming?” She queried, not yet committing to the meal, not an arm's length away from her as she wearily stared at the green peppers within.
Arthur nearly chuckled at the girl's obvious attempt to figure out exactly how much time she had to laze about. Strange enough, as much as she loved her yellow sponge P.J.’s she was embarrassed to be seen with them on by those who weren't on a very short list. He figured that it more or less boiled down to the notion that she did in fact know just how loose she was playing things with him since her mother had left and didn't want to be judged for her little indulgences. That was fine. Arthur didn't really care since Tulla was nothing if not helpful once she actually woke up, but as he hadn't exactly filled her in on his plan for the day, thus, she no doubt was trying to discern why her carefree morning was being intruded upon.
“Short answer or long answer?” Arthur grinned, enjoying the little game for what it was.
“Short.”
“They are accompanying us for a little wilderness hiking.”
Tulla’s eye narrowed at her father before she shifted again, this time sitting upright with a decidedly displeased expression. Before he’d arrived, Tulla wasn't exactly a child who liked other people. She still didn't, so far as Arthur could tell, but her tolerance for others had definitely improved for the better.
“Why?” she asked again, eyeing the meal she’d of otherwise dove at were she not sleepy or, hadn't yet noticed what was exactly in it. She was getting spoilt that was a certainty.
“I need more cards to work with and since the labyrinth is out for the time being, I intend to get them another way.”
Again, the girl's attention flickered with renewed interest. Her gaze glanced towards the plate beside her, then at the ketchup. A decision was quickly made thereafter, the little demon deciding she wasn't going to get anywhere with her father until she started doing what he wanted. She ate. Grudgingly, though, Arthur could tell she enjoyed the food. Things that were green were sometimes a touchy subject for the girl these days. That said, most kids had an issue with that particular colour when it was associated with food, so it was nothing really new. And at least she ate pretty much any other fruit or veggie he placed before her… As she ate, giving up her act, Arthur decided it was as good enough a concession of her usual antics as he’d get, so he filled her in as he finished up his own portion.
“We're going to go hunting.” He began, noting the almost exasperated look in his daughter’s gaze before he raised a brow at her in a silent question.
Tulla chewed, swallowed while wiping her mouth on a sleeve and lazily stated. “What, more rabbits?”
“If I said yes, then does that mean you don't want to come?”
“I mean…” Tulla droned, looking away from Arthur without really committing either way.
“Can't say I blame you on that one. Your aunt told me that spearing the poor things is what most of the kids in the legion did for—fun in their spare time.”
“Was great when the cards were useful, but after that, it just sort of seemed… tedious?”
“Glad to hear that killing small animals is boring to you.” Arthur chuckled and earned himself a thin protruding tongue and glare for his efforts. “We're not going after rabbits by the way.” He amended a short moment later. “Plus, I’ve been advised our query is rather dangerous so that means I'm authorizing the use of Chuck.” That got her attention, and Arthur definitely saw the excited twitch of the girl's long ears. She tried to hide her interest behind a mask of feigned indifference, but her sparkling eyes were a dead giveaway. “And, since we're going after a lot of cards, and there’s two of us, I'm breaking out the army as well.”
“You're going to let me—help?” Tulla hedged, still trying for the nonchalance bit while failing to realize that she was hyper-fixating on the trailer's tire without looking away.
“I’ll need you to prove you remember how to control them before…” He paused as his intelligent spydrone, affectionately named Chuck by his daughter, picked out a pair of incoming figures who were flying over. He grinned, looked at Tulla then said in a singsong voice. “They're here.”
Immediately Tulla scrambled from her seat, shoveling the rest of her plate into her mouth with little grace before flapping her wings for more speed as she skip-darted towards the trailer. She was, somewhat surprisingly, changed, washed and returned to the outside world in truly record time, putting on airs as she tried her best to appear more—mature than her age would otherwise expect of her. Arthur had to earnestly ponder just how deep her little issue regarding her obsession with it all really was given how quickly she moved but, in the end, figured that everyone had their problems, at least hers would fix themselves in due time…
He waved at the two approaching bal from his fire, continuing to clean up, even as the duo landed, equipped in a battle-weary but serviceable regalia complete with polished armour, long spears, ovular, contouring shields and quite large bows already strung and slung on their backs, quivers over the shoulder with them.
“Morning Art, don't suppose you saved anything for us so far as the cooking went?”
“Kilk!” Jade admonished, slapping her lover on the arm as the slightly shorter demon just grinned, nose scenting at the air in a now very familiar way.
“I made lunch for everyone, and there's definitely more than enough, so if you're hungry, then—sure, have it at. We basically reheated leftovers anyway.”
“Nice!” Kilk exclaimed, shamelessly digging into the steaming cooler that sat nearby, opening himself up a wrapped burrito with obvious excitement. He paused before taking his first bite, however, perhaps some sixth sense alerting him to the glare that was busy burning a hole in his side. He coughed, grinned a little sheepishly, then handed his significant other what he’d already procured, going back to seek another for himself.
“Uhhhh, Cassandra wasn't kidding… he’s good,” Jade mumbled, a hand passing over her mouth as she chewed and talked all at the same time. Thick melted cheese, eggs and salted pork all causing her to let out a small little whine of happiness.
“You're not all still eating porridge over there are you?”
Neither of the demons made to meet his eye, the pair almost looking—shameful while they chewed...
“Not their fault; nobody has half the resources you do in the kitchen Dad. Plus, I doubt anyone's really managed to delve too deep into the cards you gave them with all that's going on…”
“Tulla’s got the right of it sadly…” Kilk affirmed, licking shamelessly at his fingers to clean them of any remnant gooeyness. “Housing or good food, those are the options, no surprise that given where we were living, housing has taken precedent, though there’s been a growing movement to send more teams labyrinth ways to get some cards to barter with.” He paused, clearing his throat as if realizing he’d been—perhaps ignoring his manners before he crumpled the parchment and squared his shoulders. “With the portals… in theory, we could start buying commodities like salt and pepper again from Kaitrice, w-without relying on you're good graces of course.”
“Gods above, I can't wait for soup with fresh bread and butter again…” Jade lamented, eyes rolling in the back of her head as if the mere thought alone was enough to taste it.
“Ah, given what we’re about today, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to treat everyone to a cookout once were done, be plenty enough fresh meat and—I assume I could work a brisket or something of the sort…”
“Which reminds me…” Jade began, pointing at Arthur’s rather—normal state of dress. “Cassandra mentioned going hunting as well which is why we got bodyguard detail, no complaints or anything but—do you… need any pointers or tips…”
“Maybe a spear?” Kilk added though he was grinning rather than trying to dance around the subject.
“Ah—no,” Arthur replied, earning himself a small but observable shift in both of his guard's expressions toward confusion. “Honestly, I don't think Cassie really understood what I had planned for this little excursion, I doubt we’ll be close enough to the—hunting to really be in any danger. I’ll be doing it all as I am and, Tulla probably as well.”
“Well, we're gonna have the hollow displays on, right? And the army?”
Arthur nodded at the girl but was unsurprised when their two attache’s frowns only seemed to deepen. At first glance, he’d assumed that they might just be thinking they were being sent out on an errand while their supposed charges were lounging about at the camper. Well, that idea would doubtless piss him off as well if for nothing more than its duplicitous nature, however, he waved a hand to help alleviate their uncertainties, heading into his camper for a quick moment to procure a pair of warrior-race inspired devices. He fitted one onto his own ear before handing the other to his daughter, who in turn, affixed it to her own head like she was an expert. Both came to life with a projected hologram before their eyes, an aerial view of their own location manifesting from a distant drone above.
“Did you make those—controller things yet?” Tulla asked, already navigating the menus of her hollow using the large touchpad at her ear.
“Not yet, too many things on the go, but I mean, it's a decent stress test of the current equipment to find out just how feasible it all is…”
Tulla didn't reply; instead, she turned to their still very confused escorts as she took command of a dozen bots that were hiding in the tall grass behind herself, placing hands on hips with a wild grin as the little and heavily armed machines marched smartly behind her, falling into rest at her back and awaiting further orders.
Arthur stared at the sight, questioning how and when the damned kid had gotten so good with the controls, his own little squadron of bots forming a neat enough line behind himself but, not one that was nearly so organized as Tulla’s own. He got a sinking suspicion the girl had found where he’d been hiding the control modules and been practicing without him knowing, which, considering their little wager meant… No, no! There was no way a veteran strategy gamer like himself would lose to some—child who’d never even heard of video games before—right?
“Arthur…” Jade eventually asked, eyeing the two rows of waist-high machines armed with long gleaming blades and strange—tube-like objects with equal parts skepticism and apprehension.
“Ah, don't worry about it, just a little inventive fun I cooked up to help overcome my more physical limitations.” Arthur grinned, offering the pair a little nod towards the large hologram that sprang to life a short distance away, this time offering a series of different perspectives from the numerous additional spy bots that Chuck had under its command. “May as well sit down and watch,” He continued, gesturing to a pair of chairs he’d pulled out for the occasion, should be interesting.”
The mighty Bull rose from the stream, lifting its head from the life-giving river as streams of water dribbled from his maw. A subtle but no less alarming shift moved through his herd. The females were growing restless, the cubs agitated, a sweeping uncertainty causing resting instincts to rouse as the creature sniffed the air, caution filling its old bones. Something was off… yet, the scents upon the wind were—not what he’d name threatening. Strange to be sure, but he was certain there to be no predators of any note about… No, the herd was strong, he was strong, and no puny challengers had truly threatened their supremacy over this land for a generation and counting! At least, none that had survived in any great number to retreat and lick their wounds. Still, the beast shook itself, rising to its full height to stand above the heads of its many females who took comfort in his presence. Large were his shoulders, larger were his horns, magnificent and grand, the envy of any restless pup that dared imagine taking his place as the herd’s ultimate protector. He sauntered through the crowd, his mates, daughters and sons smart enough to bow their heads, all moving to make way.
Slowly, assuredly, the Bull meandered towards the direction of greatest instability, sensing the ebb and flow of his people's emotions, towering over those he passed, reaffirming their security as he lumbered towards the edge. What he found himself confronted with—confused the old Bull once he arrived. Those on the outermost edge, the old, the sick, all seemed—terrified… yet he couldn't understand why. Yes, the small valley forest was quite ominous in its own right, if predators ever emerged, seeking to steal away a life from the herd, then the forest was where they arrived. It was why those the community could afford to lose were stationed as such, the reforms of his distant ancestors still in the living hearts of all who were born to horns and static.
Briefly, the Bull surveyed the landscape, eyes that had grown progressively worse over the years, squinting at the treeline in an attempt to discern its secrets. None were presently offered by the mysterious gloomwood, though, there was a certain—smell this far to the rim that had him bristle with alarm. Beside him, several old cows mewed and whined in their incessant ways, pleading with their leader to listen, which he did. The Bull was nothing if not a magnanimous lord; however, to the best he could discern from their rattle, someone had gone missing, which… hm, was concerning. Yes, the odd individual too weak to defend themselves did, at times, succumb to the odd attack, it was why the expendable were placed where they were. That being said, the fact that a creature had made off with one of his own was—problematic…
He could smell no blood nor sharp hint of ozone in the air which, meant that whatever had happened, had transpired without a fight… Did the missing old girl just—wandered off on her own? Or, had she been taken… The problem was perhaps a touch too complicated for him to solve, he was just a beast after all, one with a surprising glint of intelligence in its eye, but an animal nonetheless. That naturally didn't stop the old Bull from working himself into a tizzy! Nobody assaulted his herd and just got away with it! Blood had to be spilled for this unjust assault on their pride! Thankfully for its strained brain, the perpetrators of the attack struck again, this time upon the herd’s right flank! Roaring, summoning his warriors and alerting the young folk and women to steer clear, the Bull charged, stamping hooves crushing dirt and greenery alike as he sprinted towards the fray, determined to catch the infernal creatures, dark deeds laid bare.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
The bull smashed into the side of the first interloper it could see, watching with grim pleasure as the familiar white body wrapped in strange fur was flung wholesale through the air. It landed several meters away, sprawled and broken as several of the assailant's comrades screeched at each other in their bizarre grunts. The attackers reformed, taking on a definitively defensive posture as the Bull stamped and seethed, stalking like a caged lion, its glare like living thunder! Each breath causing the air to crackle with untamed and wild energy! Slowly, the dread-hunters began to back away, some attempting to steal pieces of their slain innocent who lay on the grass, unmoving and partially butchered… The sight drove the bull to incensed madness, fury and hate for this most ancient of enemies filling its heart with the bleakest fury. The Bull’s mighty warriors soon joined the confrontation, its sons, brave and loyal fighters all, each moved to an organized line, lowering their horned heads in preparation to charge!
The hunters, realizing the folly of their actions, numerous as they were, began retreating faster, moving on their strange too few legs as the Bull roared, signalling the assault. Together, they stampeded towards their duplicitous foe, horns ready to gore and rend any too slow to avoid them. They trampled several of the pitiless creatures under hoof as they sped across the grassland, running the savages down without mercy or relenting pause. The Bull himself was naturally at the head of their forces, personally skewering two of the slower pale-skins before flicking his mighty head backwards, discarding their dying and fried bodies with impetuous disdain. If these things wanted a fight so badly, then the Bull would give them a fight!
They pursued the creatures without rest, felling no fewer than a dozen before many began to escape into a rocky landscape unsuitable for the herd’s rapid pace. They all slowed, their blood boiling for more battle, but uncertain of the terrain… Even the Bull was apprehensive, their greatest strength hindered as it was by the numerous rocks and uneven ground. Still, he’d never managed to chase the creatures this far before and, the place utterly reeked of their foul scent to a degree that made the Bull wonder if this was where their herd kept their females and young while the others made war. Grinning with savage glee, the bull decided it was high time the hunters got a taste of their own medicine.
Signalling his sons, the Bull sallied onwards, making short work of navigating the strange land. Sure, it wasn't as quick going as the flat planes in which it had grown were, but, the Bull got the sense it was indeed gaining on the rearmost hunter. Yes, revenge would be a sweet taste upon the tongue should his suspicions prove right… Three more of the trespassers fell before the Bull finally ran out of steam, his pace shifting to that of a slower crawl as his sons carried on the charge before him, moving into a smoother span surrounded by high rocks on nearly all sides—almost as though they were in a smaller valley, within their own valley… The Bull—paused as he observed the scene before him, watching as his warriors followed the handful of remaining hunters into the oddly—strange formation of stone.
Something churned in his guts, some—instinct calling on him to end the hunt but—old as he was, weary as he was and filled to the brim with adrenaline, it was—sadly, too late that his folly became apparent in his eyes…
A swarm of the pale skins surged from the rocks all around his sons! Armed with their too-long horns and strange needles that pierced the world from afar! The Bull roared his warning, that it was a trap! That they’d been lured too far away from the herd but—the chaos had already ensued and soon, the Bull was fighting madly for his life, shoulder to shoulder with his warriors as an onslaught of their hated foe swarmed from all sides! The bull could feel the hot bite of wounds opening across its flesh, could feel the spray of blood from his falling sons, feel the crackle in the air as lightning arced between foul foes, roasting them alive as they fell in droves before the might of the herd’s chosen warriors! But alas, as his kin continued to wane, as the gaps in their formation were filled with chewing and grasping steel, the Bull realized the fury and righteous anger, the energy and thrill of battle all seemed to—settle and disappear. Slowly, his retaliatory strikes which slew the invaders in numbers of twos and threes were—dodged by figures moving too quickly to batter. His limbs which surged with power turned heavy and unresponsive…
He felt a long-horn grate against the armour of his ribs, causing him to froth with fury as he swept his mighty weapons in a great arc, electricity purging all before him in a gleam of death, clearing away enough space that a small, strange sort of pause overcame the battlefield. The dead littered the ground, of his mighty sons and their evil hunters both… they’d given as good as they’d got, the ferocity of his herd likely having caught the creatures off guard. Truly, neither seemed too willing to re-engage in hostility, with the wounded on both sides limping away to their respective lines. Still, the grand Bull could clearly see that the great mother was no longer by their side, his warriors reduced to no more than a dozen still able to stand, barely clinging to the high of combat to remain as such. By contrast, the pale skins wore grim determination, overly thin and ill-fitting in their own fur as they appeared… this… this could only end with the extermination of one side, of that the Bull knew… sadly, they were still outnumbered… Maybe one final charge? One last brutal clash in which his warriors would surely win and could cause the other force to route? It wouldn't take much, they were as battered as his own forces, if not moreso but…
His heart fell as the first volley of wicked and unnatural, flying horns flew from the retreating hunters, cascading into his ranks, punching deep into the wounded and dying. Several of the things failed to pierce the thickness of his fur and hide, but the Bull fumed at the unfairness of it all as he watched one of his sons fall beneath the onslaught of tiny barbs. He roared with indignation, that their hated foe could possibly be even more dishonourable than they already were was—astounding, but already, they had been allowed to gain ground and if it continued… Another warrior fell as the Bull once more called for a pursuit, his forces lurching towards their enemies on legs too exhausted to catch their fleeing tortures. More fell as they tried to close the distance, the hunters seemingly forever just out of reach… With every volley, another of his sons fell, with every step, the Bull’s legs threatened to buckle beneath the climb…
All was lost, wasn't it? They’d been defeated… beaten from the beginning, been foolishly led away from the herd where their own numbers, warriors or not, could have made the difference! He was too old for all of this… the fighting, the dying, all the blood and gore of it all… The Bull—slowed after finally catching one of the miserable creatures, battering it down before stomping its skull while it howled in fear, spraying piss and shit by equal measure as it died a death unfit for any to suffer. More tiny horns battered his side, the patriarch's gaze roving across the handful of sons he had remaining. Some had, like him, made their foes bleed for every warrior they felled, a littering of gored and crackling corpses lying in their wake—but the fight had already left them… He grunted, steam dissipating in the air as he shook his head at the absurdity of life. How so had ambition finally brought him low… The excitement, the glory of finally doing what his ancestors had failed to do and ridding their lives of this plague once and for all… well, if nothing else, it had been a worthy way for an old warrior to die…
However, when the Bull’s eyes next opened, his ears perking up at the sudden increase in those panicked, shrill voices that had been yapping at him all afternoon, it was not with death by long horns that he was met with but—something entirely strange… The hunters, or what remained of their mighty host, were—dying… Some screamed as they were bisected in halves, guts and organs spilling over the hillside in floppy wet thumps… Their numbers being slaughtered by—strange skittering things that clacked against the stone, others simply disappeared in an ashen haze as their forms vanished from sight at the gleam of some—divine power… The Bull’s weary head rose, watching as their foe suddenly found themselves trapped on two sides in a pincer, the creature quickly making the decision that their new ally, welcome but unexpected as they were, must hate the hunters as much as they!
A mighty bellow escaped his maw as he called upon every scrap of remaining energy in his reserve, rallying his faltering sons to renewed battle! He flew upon wings as he battered his way through a small group of pale skins who’d sought refugee in numbers from their new attackers, the fools somehow forgetting they were not the only beings to be feared. His horns collected bodies upon themselves like gristly trophies as he moved like a reaper through the slope, batting aside long spears and frying those unfortunate enough to think themselves the heroes who might fell him from a strike to his flank. Two more of his sons collapsed in the frantic flurry that followed, but, soon, the Bull raised its bloody maw in triumph as it beseeched the heavens to inquire if their great mother was indeed satisfied with his slaughter! The last of the hunters shiting themselves as the Bull sauntered over to them, looming whilst looking down upon the despicable creature with contempt. They would have been shown no mercy should the hoof be reversed, thus, as he built a charge within himself, eyes glowing with a crackling blue fury, the Bull sneered, unleashing the full power of his rage upon the thing that had dared defy him!
The pale skin erupted in a configuration of roaring flames, the Bull lifting his leg to piss upon the vanquished hated foe as it huffed and looked upon its surviving sons. Rewards! He would have to reward those who survived! Each could take their pick of his females, each was deserving of their own hoard of women so, one day his line might stretch across the sea of grass, unmatched and unrivalled by—The Bull watched as one of its son's heads suddenly bounced off the ground, rolling away down the hill as his fallen kin’s body crumpled in a heavy heap, the perpetrator, gleaming horn in hand, standing next to the desecrated body with its eerie, unmoving shape…
“Perfany!” The Bull roared, rearing in fury as he watched another of his sons felled by the mysterious other creatures! “Betrayers! Fiends, charlatans and deceivers!” Pulling upon the ambient power around him, the bull charged a mighty blast of building light, rage and disbelief filling its every thought! The newcomers hadn't arrived to save them! They were just one more fouled entity that sought to harm the herd! He gnashed his teeth, stomped his hooves and prepared to eviscerate the nearest of the creatures that had just dispatched his final son, blind rage filling his every thought as a torrent of electricity prepared to discharge before—nothing… The blast took one of the tiny creatures strait in its body, but it merely turned to him, levelling a curious tube in his direction and…
“I got the big one!” Tulla squealed in delight, standing up and beginning to dance as Arthur shrugged, secretly having saved the old beast for her amusement. Sometimes, letting the younger generation get the big wins was—in its own way, a win all its own.
A dozen or so little cousins and siblings, not to mention some maturity, had long since taught him that sometimes, losing could be better than fighting tooth and nail for victory. He smiled at the excited girl, releasing his control of the drones in his command and deciding he’d had enough bloodshed for one day. Knowing it wasn't all just—pixels and numbers like a real game would otherwise be—dampened his own thirst for violence… Arthur turned to his two escorts who were both gravely watching the display, neither having spoken much once the bots had begun their gruesome work. Likely, they could leave the herd itself where it was given how much meat was already available…
Yet, he honestly wasn't sure of exactly what made them grip their weapons so tightly. He wasn't stupid of course, of anything, either the Tricen appearing en masses to hunt the furry electric yaks or, their clinical slaughter at the hands of his machines were, more than likely, the cause of their apprehension.
“On the—unfortunate side,” Arthur began, choosing to break the spell of silence himself and offer the pair a friendly smile. “I suspect that's a deal more Tricen than you lot were expecting to be hiding in the area?”
“They're desperate,” Kilk murmured, sneering at the hologram as, on cue, one of his spy-bots zoomed in on a more—intact example. “Hungry by the looks of it and willing to take risks…”
“Big risks.” Jade chimed in, her frown just as deeply set. “There’s got to be thirty of the fuckers on that hill, another twenty or so dead in the bowl… maybe another thirteen further towards the forest… Either they're running out of food down below or—phew, I don't know, these were slaves? Maybe the weakest sent to forage who took a gamble and lost?”
“They keep their own people as slaves?”
“Caste system,” Jade replied with a casual shrug. “Honestly, it's sort of worse than slavery if you ask me, at least property of that sort within the imperium has rights, just look at those sorry bastards, all skin and bones… death was probably the best they could hope for…”
“We should bring Tavir in on this… He’s going to want to see the extent of our situation. If those burrowing buggers have enough manpower to plan a hunt right under our noses, I fear we might not be as secure as once thought.”
“Agreed.” Jade sniffed, rising as she peered at her mate. “You stay here with Arthur, he’s proven more than capable of killing our enemy but he doesn't know how they like to operate or what to look for, give him a legion rundown while I fetch the others, they’re going to want to examine the battlefield—in detail.”
Her final words arrived as she peered at Arthur with an unreadable expression, too guarded for him to easily make out on her still somewhat alien face. She took off a few moments later, leaving Arthur alone with Tulla who, taking command of his forces as well, took it upon herself to try and track the pale reptilians with surprising fervour.
“Beer?” Arthur asked, pulling a second beverage despite Kilk’s shake of the head. “C'mon man, it's not like you're going to be fighting today, Tulla looks like she’s somehow already found tracks if anything still lives over there, I doubt she’d gonna show mercy…”
“Kid’s a little young to look so cavalier about killing isn't she?”
Arthur blinked, surprised as the other man took the bottle, drinking deep as though—disturbed. “Here I thought you were all—sort of… on board with the extermination?”
“Ah, some have more of a taste for it than others… Though, given her mother, I guess I'm not that surprised but, Arthur, I just watched how she, while controlling those things of yours or not, utterly butchered no less than thirteen living souls, all while grinning like it was some game, you're not worried about that?” He whispered, leaning in close to not be overheard.
“I can't really blame her either.” Arthur shrugged, chewing his lip in thought. “Considering what almost happened… I suppose it’s—cathartic for her? Going to be honest man, I'm really just not prepared to try and stand in the way of an emotional preteen who can gut me with her claws. If she wants to take it out on the things that tried to sacrifice her then—fuck 'em.”
“Ugh… I really hope I don't have a daughter Art, you know our women have a tendency to be on the—more violent end of things, right? Like, significantly more?”
“I got that sense, yeah…”
Both men stared as the young girl in question continued to hunt her chosen prey with dogged enthusiasm, reaching into a tub of crackers Arthur had tried his hand at while merrily whistling a tune. Perhaps, Kilk did have a point… but, the way he was led to understand things, Tulla was already something of a killer in training… Did he feel irresponsible in giving a potentially unstable youth the means for such grand-scale murder? A little… Yet, he was coming to terms with the fact that this was a far different world than the one he’d grown up in… and, it wasn't as though the world government hadn't stomped humans flat with their warbots in pursuit of consolidating their power. Sure, he could be a little hypocritical at times, his morals being what they were, perhaps even a little preachy if the mood was upon him—but, since he’d gotten here he’d nearly died no fewer than four times, three of which directly involved his new and currently abroad wife. He was already going insane if he wasn't already there, and at this point, he knew it was easier to flow with the tide rather than try and fight it… Arthur took one last swig of his bottle while watching the hollow display, then shrugged his shoulders. If there was still this large of a Tricen threat nearby, he had work to do in esuring nothing would get near this place to threaten it.