Memory transcription subject: Chief Hunter Isif, Arxur Rebellion Command
Date [standardized human time]: March 18, 2137
The humans, and their higher-ups, believed that my tliskis duel with Ilthiss was a poor idea. There was a history on Wriss of high-class society settling feuds through this strength display; though there was no obligation to accept such a challenge, I knew I couldn’t afford to be seen as weak by my rebels. Doubt had been sown by my friendliness with the humans, and my personal secrecy to hide Felra’s presence in the past. Tliskis was nothing so disorderly and random as a single turn and draw of a gun, as I’d read about on Earth. It was practiced as both a sport for training sessions, and an unequivocal contest of who the better fighter was. It might be the most social aspect left in our society, even if it was just locking swords.
I checked that my ceremonial armor was snug, while adjusting the padding underneath it. The extravagant sword and exquisite gear were fine pieces of craftsmanship, gifts Betterment bestowed upon its worthy hunters as symbols of rank; I wore these for important communications and ceremonies, such as when the Prophet-Descendant issued commendations for terror-inducing raids. It brought back memories of when I executed the Arxur who refused to eat a Gojid, knowing I had to play the fanatic. Slipping into that cruel, familiar persona would be easier than I’d like to admit. After years of practice putting down any comrade who challenged or insulted me, there was no reason I couldn’t go toe-to-toe with Ilthiss.
My claws hooked around the ornament case: there were three fragile squares the size of a Terran Rubik’s Cube, which were crafted from a red crystal called kweshua native to Wriss. The intricate patterns that showed up under the UV lights of a tliskis match made it near impossible to pull off any fakes, not that I would stoop to such means to win our battle. The crystalline squares had to be attached between our chest and our waist, facing the opponent, and not on any limbs. The winner of the duel was whoever could break all of their rival’s ornaments first; each time a crystal broke, the round concluded so the loser could reset their adornment. It was a simple, yet brutal, contest. While attacks toward the head and the neck were prohibited, any other area was fair game for stab wounds.
I can withstand the pain of a few cuts. The question is if my greater experience can counter Ilthiss’ faster speed; success will be achieved by outwitting his strategy.
As I approached the fated site alone, there were no treasonous moves from the young Chief Hunter. His morality was self-serving and dubious, but he respected strength and courage; he wanted to best me beyond any doubts, so that meant no tricks were forthcoming. It would be strategically prudent to take me out of the picture and forsake pride, yet his hot-headedness prevented him from suppressing his arrogance here. At this age, in his prime, Ilthiss likely thought he was invincible. His aggression, attempting to humiliate me out of the gate, was almost a certainty. I also believed that if I won, he would humor a persuasion attempt to join our side, per his word.
Kaisal hailed my transport, as it docked with Ilthiss’ designated habitat. “Ancestors speed your victory, Chief Hunter. May his blood wet your sword.”
“Thank you,” I responded, steadying my nerves. “I have a purpose to fight for, beyond myself: the purpose of our entire people. A future that is worth great sacrifices. Besides, there are some selfish gains; I will have your eavesdropping human friends know that I am no softy.”
“Swinging a sword won’t prove that,” Olek chirped.
“It will when I swing the sword at your neck, and lop your thick skull clean off. That would put an end to your conspiracy theories, yes?”
“Actually, no. In the event of my death, I’ve set up a cache of evidence for various government plots to be uploaded, so that nobody can silence my findings. For instance, I don’t trust them doing ‘cure research’; they’re undoing the cure, but what else are they doing? There’s no oversight, and the planetary security excuse is horseshit!”
“What are they doing, Olek? Cloning people for bullet fodder? Putting a kill switch in the DNA of anyone who likes conspiracies?”
“There’ll come a day where they’re able to know everything about you, even your deepest thoughts, just by observing a few elements of your biology, and it’ll be a lot sooner than you think. Laugh all you want, Lisa, but we’re welcoming the death of privacy with open arms!”
I heaved a flustered sigh. “Enough! You are distracting me before an important contest with your incessant chatter. If you ever talk like this on the bridge, I’ll feed you to Ilthiss in pieces myself.”
“Ah, yes, cannibalism is such a funny joke with your hist—”
I disconnected from the channel, hissing with exasperation. At least those two humans being their infuriating selves brought me a notch closer to combat mode; sometimes, I yearned to take a metal blade to their ornaments. My facial features hardened into a menacing mask, devoid of emotion, and I disembarked to face off with Ilthiss in person. The Chief Hunter was waiting with the smugness of someone who believed they’d already won; my paw drifted to the hilt of my sword, though it stayed in my scabbard. I wasn’t going to take a premature swipe at him, but the gesture of animosity would get through.
I don’t miss having to communicate in cruelty, unable to hint at any emotions. That said, I was pretty good at pretending, isn’t that right?
Ilthiss smacked his tail on the ground energetically. “Hss, this fool believes he is the finer Chief Hunter. I’m sure he was great in the old days, but he’s strayed from the path. I’m surprised he remembers how to hold a sword.”
“What a lovely greeting. I say we go straight to the tliskis, since this conversation is a waste, yes?”
“Works for me. But I’ll have you know that my raid against the Drezjin was sublime; we landed raiding parties, and set off demolition charges in their caves. Burying villages like that, ha! That’s a new one—my idea.”
“How masterfully cruel. I imagine you would not have come back if you managed to keep the planets. You did not even mention the Malti.”
“I’m not idiotic enough to waste resources. Those mindless animals are fighting among themselves, so I hardly need to bomb them. I’m surprised the cowardly prey don’t stampede the second one of their own throws a claw swipe!”
“The humans can be attributed to this unrest. They put your raid to shame; they dismantled the foundation of over 200 worlds.”
“As if I’d believe that. There were none of those Venlil-loving apes in sight.”
“That is why they are so terrifying, Ilthiss. You do not see a lethal virus in action; it kills in its silence.”
“The Terrans I know of refuse to kill anyone. That was the whole premise of the fight at Sillis and Fahl: warring so those who helped bombed them would live. The enemies of Earth that fell were by your maneuvering.”
“A point of contention between us. They choose to minimize bloodshed, but I have no doubt that humanity could lay waste to the galaxy if they didn’t. The Federation should be afraid of what they tried to awaken. Their cleverness—”
“Isif, no sales pitch from you means a morsel until you have any strength to flaunt. I suggest you think of your last words for when you’re executed for your defeat.”
“I do not need to waste time preparing for things that will not happen.”
Ilthiss growled at me, eyes narrowed to crazed slits. The two of us had reached the tliskis arena. On opposite sides, I could see starting pads scattered a few seconds of running apart; the pedestals in the center offered places to climb or use the environment to our advantage. As the rival Chief Hunter strapped his first ornament over his armored stomach, I considered the placement of my own object. If the ornament broke, even as a result of my actions, it would count for Ilthiss as long as it didn’t happen after a tally of mine. Staying up on my feet, and avoiding dropping my weight onto the fragile item, would be crucial. With a grunt of determination, I tightened the band around my sternum, and fixed my ornament right in the center.
In range of both arms to defend, so it’s safer from any sidelong stabs toward the hip. If I fall, I can catch myself on all fours to avoid breaking it.
Everything aside from head-and-neck shots, and attacks such as biting or headbutting were fair game, so I needed to watch for any ambitious tail swipes from Ilthiss. I also should throw in the occasional kick or slash of my own, to keep him on his toes. It might serve me to knock over his platform, rather than contest the elevation, if the young Arxur went for the high ground. I drew my sword with confidence, ready for a frenetic clash of wits and body. Tliskis was an exhilarating format, though I wasn’t sure whether my reflexes were quite as sharp as they used to be. Still, my experience was nothing to laugh at, and I was certain I could outthink any Dominion lackey. A cautious approach would take the wind out of his sails, along with granting me insight into his strategy.
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I stepped onto the starting pad, and lowered myself to a lunging stance; with my body facing toward the ground, the ornament would be angled away from Ilthiss. The other Chief Hunter was going to meet only my sword, and if my head was facing him, he couldn’t swing at it without being disqualified. (If my head was intentionally maneuvered in the path of a blow, that was the sole way it could be ruled a fair shot.) I lashed my tail to signal readiness, and Ilthiss did the same. The young Chief Hunter had no sooner smacked his pad with force before he raced toward the pedestals, cresting one as tall as an Arxur without using the lower platforms as stepping stools. He stared me down from the powerful vantage point, realizing I was staying put.
“Coward? What, you’ve frozen like prey? Going to wet yourself and faint?” Ilthiss jeered.
The Chief Hunter lunged with staggering power from his hindlegs, leading sword-first. With the pointed tip blazing toward me, I was doubtful I could parry his blistering momentum. There was no time to sidestep, before Ilthiss landed nearly atop me; careful to keep his maw turned away from me, his sword finished its trajectory. The young Arxur wasn’t aiming for the ornament I guarded, instead driving his blade into my thigh. I staggered from the pain, shoving him away with the pommel. My rival landed with grace on all fours, absorbing the momentum through his paws and keeping the crystal strapped to his stomach safe. He took crazed swings toward my kweshua token, and though I saw his tail coming, I could barely fend off the sword by itself.
My hindlegs were swept out from under me with a brutal lash, and it was all I could do to keep my blade from clattering to the floor. Ilthiss scrambled toward me, wrapping his tail around my weapon; he wrenched it from my dazed grip, ignoring how the sharp edges lacerated his skin. A gloating glint shone in his eyes, as he shattered my crystal into tiny fragments with an unnecessarily forceful swing. I could feel the impact through my armor, and struggled to shake it off. After collecting my weapon, I disguised my limp on my walk to the ornament collection. Failure to reset quickly was considered forfeiture. I donned my new cube, and hustled back to the pad. With how impressive my opponent’s aggression was, I could see why he climbed the ranks at a young age.
I lashed my tail. “Is that the best you can muster?”
Ilthiss signaled his readiness, and this time, I opted not to wait for him to come to me. I sprinted toward the pedestal at the same time as him, weaving around the column while keeping low to the ground. The Chief Hunter had climbed the platform again, but was unable to get a clean stab at me. He twirled in my direction, just as I wildly swatted with my sword toward his belly. My rival’s blade moved in a blur, an instinctual response; his reaction was near instantaneous, deflecting my brazen attempt. I scrambled backward as he rolled to the ground, and tracked his movements and cues. His legs tensed before he dashed toward me.
Forget the ornament; I need to cripple him, and limit his speed.
I feinted a swing at his crystal, before thrusting my blade into his knee and twisting. Ilthiss howled, but had the presence of mind to hold my blade in his wound. I couldn’t pull it away without giving him clean access to my crystal, so I released my grip. Crimson blood gushed from his deep gash as he ripped the weapon out. The Chief Hunter favored his leg so much that he barely put weight on it. The young Arxur crossed my blade with his own, flaunting his dual wielding; I couldn’t conjure any unarmed strategies. It might be best to break my crystal on purpose, get my sword back for the next round, and avoid further injuries…but that would leave me with one crystal. Was I that confident? My leg was injured from its own stab wound, though it was less destabilizing.
I was without a weapon, left to defend myself with my arms and a nimbleness that was long gone. The possibility of my total defeat crossed my mind, but I recognized that this was the best strategic option—even if my pride spurred me to keep pressing. The humans had taught me anything could be a weapon…everything but the kitchen sink. I ripped the ornament from my chest, and hurtled it at Ilthiss; if I was going to destroy it, I might as well rain glass shards on his other leg. Arxur might not have Terrans’ arm torsion, but chucking an object at the ground was within my capabilities. The Chief Hunter snarled at my opportunistic forfeiture, losing his footing when pain shot up his good leg. He stayed down for several seconds, still not standing after I donned my last crystal.
“My sword,” I demanded, snatching it from his grip. “You cannot fight on, Ilthiss?”
The Chief Hunter used his own blade to prop himself up, and leaned on it to stagger back to his pad. He lashed his tail in defiance, raising his sword into a defensive posture. I signaled my readiness, while collecting my wits; this was now a must-win duel, but Ilthiss looked hobbled after the previous round. As the new sequence commenced, it was my enemy remaining stationary in his starting spot, grimacing as he stood. The Arxur was flexing the leg that the ornament shattered against, but the other limb had lost its functionality altogether after the surgical cut. He brandished his sword with frustration, snarling.
I took my time stalking forward, and kept just out of range, moving from side-to-side so he was forced to turn awkwardly; the longer this went on, the more Ilthiss would be testing his exhausted pain tolerance. I faked a lunge forward, laughing as he made a frantic sword move to block. I moved just within range and swiped toward the ornament, connecting with his metal weapon on purpose. While my rival struggled to bat away my blade, my tail snapped his better leg out from under him—all of his weight was thrown onto the wounded limb, causing him to shriek in anguish. His focus waned as he fell, and I snaked my sword around his to break a crystal. The Chief Hunter took several attempts to get up, and stewed as he realized he needed to walk to retrieve a new item.
“The only prize of a loss is to talk about something that will benefit you,” I said. “Forfeiture would spare you the pain; you can go get treatment.”
Ilthiss almost hopped one-legged over to his box. “I should’ve watched for the limb cut a round ago, but an Arxur fights on. All I need is to break one more ornament of yours; you’re still slow, old, and weak to be empathizing with my pain.”
“This is not empathy, as much as an admission of your pathetic state, unworthy of a duel with me. Hurry up, or you will be disqualified.”
The Chief Hunter secured his jaw around his sword to muffle whimpers, and tried to run over to his pad. He crashed onto the starting spot in the nick of time, thumping his tail as he was still on all fours. To my surprise, Ilthiss stayed down this time, deciding he was better off low to the ground. It was a valid play, given that I couldn’t swing at his head from my high angle; however, it surrendered all mobility and exposed many vulnerable spots. My rival hugged his knees to his chest with his tail and arms, shielding the ornament with his flesh. I inched forward, considering my strike with caution. Before I could jab at the sensitive wounded area, Ilthiss sprang to his feet, despite the pain, and swept his sword in a wide arc.
I barely leapt back in time, leaning my upper body backward to protect the ornament. His sharp instrument clanged against the armor of my stomach, and sucked the breath from my lungs from the force. I parried a second attempt to swing upward, and stumbled backward in a hurry, knowing he couldn’t follow my retreat. Ilthiss’ eyes looked crazed and his nostrils flared, before he sank back to all fours, stripped of his willpower. Certain that he couldn’t lunge from this awkward fall, I rushed forward and swung at his wounded leg. The Chief Hunter overcommitted to defending that painful area, allowing me to twist the point towards the true target. My sword glided up just enough to glance his crystal, shattering it.
Ilthiss grunted. “Fuck you. I…only need one hit.”
“Are you delusional? You cannot fight me in this state, and it will only damage your reputation to crawl around like this,” I spat.
“No. I fight…to the last.”
The Chief Hunter hurried over to the box, as best as he could with a maimed limb, and thrashed his tail once he was hunched back over on the pad. I was growing tired, but that just prompted me to end this bout with swiftness; all I needed was to break the final ornament, and I could achieve my goal of persuading him to abandon Betterment. Our cause could use the extra forces a Chief Hunter would bring to the table, and if he agreed to raid Aafa after hearing about Giznel’s arrangement with the Kolshians, that might help the Terrans to focus on the Dominion after this clash. I marched back to my pad, thrumming my tail to start the deciding round. Ilthiss stumbled forward with aggravated hisses. Stealing a page from his book, I waited for him to draw close enough, before using a small pedestal to boost myself up to the highest one.
My rival paused, expecting me to lunge at him. However, not willing to risk my crystal shattering in the chaos, I leapt short of where Ilthiss waited. It was then that I kicked in my last burst of speed, jabbing my sword at his gut with all of my strength and willpower. The enemy didn’t bother to defend, instead taking it as an opportunity to go for my crystal. I drove my blade through the fragile kweshua, and heard my own shatter a half-second later. The young Chief Hunter recognized that I’d landed the break first, rather than contesting who won, and conceded the match with a grudging huff. He seemed relieved to be able to sit down and mend his wounds.
“Fine, fine. Spill out why the fuck you think I should side with a defective like you, but I doubt I’ll be persuaded. I’ll honor my word and let you leave after this is through,” Ilthiss growled.
I pulled my holopad from atop my waiting belongings. “I’m going to show you a single video of Giznel talking to the late Nikonus, yes, then the leader of the Federation. If you can’t parse that the Dominion is afraid of the Kolshians, and that they don’t want us to win, unlike humanity and me, nothing I say will matter. You do have much energy and fight, and I respect those qualities. Betterment isn’t worthy of your strength, not when they are the ones in league with all of our leaf-licking foes.”
“That’s preposterous. Betterment would never bargain with prey like you do.”
“Good thing I have evidence to prove this very statement. Hear it with your own keen ears, yes?”
The young Chief Hunter took my holopad with reluctance. I watched his facial expression grow enraged, as he listened to Giznel appeasing the Kolshians, and promising not to push too far in the war as to actually win it. It was the humans who Nikonus blasted as a “major setback”, and my rebellion which the Prophet-Descendant claimed thought we could rule all by ourselves. I was ready to jump in with evidence of our triumphs and innovations, how our side pushed the boundaries of warfare, when this video was over. Something told me that there was a good chance of getting Ilthiss to send his troops to Aafa; this was the fight Betterment shied away from, and weakness was an admission he abhorred.
My success in the duel could give both humanity and the rebellion an advantage in our respective fights.