Xitzocl smirked at Morrigan’s innocent question though it was Xol who stepped off the table behind her with a resounding thump.

“Lakai is the most ancient of all Marmuro’k. He lives as a wise one, offering his insight to the clans, otherwise leaving all alone,” Xol stated with respect to the old Marmuro’k.

Morrigan chewed on her lip trying to connect the dots, “But why do I have to speak with this Lakai? Why would he kill me or grant me this Trial by Fire or whatever it is, speaking of, what the hell was that about?”

Xitzocl chortled at Morrigan’s rising anxiety as she held her hand out, gently touching her shoulder, “Relax Morrigan. Lakai will not kill you; it has been many thousands of years since Lakai has last fought. However, he is the wisest of us all and can see into one’s soul to determine their strength. If Xol is correct, he will see you not as a human, but as Marmuro’k, and be allowed to enter the Trial of Fire. The Trial of Fire is a contest of strength and vigor, combat between those who enter against the strongest warrior bred to date, Lakai excluded.”

“To the death?” Morrigan question to which Xitzocl nodded respectfully. Several of the onlookers left in the room hissed in the fashion of a snicker.

“Yes, all Marmuro’k who enter the Trial of Fire must show that they are willing to take the life of their enemies, even if that enemy is one such as they,” Xitzocl explained, Xol nodding with a sinister, knowing grin.

“Yes, you fight, you kill, you show you are Marmuro’k,” he gruffed out proudly.

Morrigan sighed dramatically realizing that Xol knew full well that killing was one of her specialties, he did after all watch her butcher over 30 people in Castile V even before the riot let alone tear a ship in half killing an unknown amount of people. Being reminded of her slaughter made her nauseous.

“Is that really what I’m becoming known for… my ability to kill people?” her heart clenched at the idea of having such an infamous reputation, “I’ve become a monster…” she thought to herself as she felt the desire to cry rise, her lungs feeling as if someone had been sitting on them.

Apollyon scoffed, oh please, I've killed a million times more than you have and I'm not a monster.

Morrigan stared off past Xitzocl at the banner of Clan Arak’tarul, studying the symbol before shifting her gaze to the banner of Clan Kri’ket, a green backing with silver hammer with a thunderbolt through it.

“Killing entire species was your job though Apollyon… it’s different,” she responded, her inner voice just as dejected as she felt.

Is it though? Your job is to protect each species from the Federation, is it not? I told you revolution is messy, little goddess. If you want to change the galaxy, you have to get blood on your hands, a lot of blood, and this species in front of you respects the blood on one’s hands. I’ve snuffed out an innumerable amount of lives because it was my job, yet, I’m not a monster; and you’ve killed many because it is your job to protect those who can not protect themselves, whether it be prisoners in a mine, soldiers simply following orders or a ship full of lives responsible for the deaths of innocent lives, you’re no monster girl… you are salvation.

Apollyon’s words were calm yet filled with a heated fervor she did not expect, as if the deity of death truly believed in her and her goal, which somehow made the weight of her actions lighten slightly. With a sniff and a nod, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath to center her emotions.

“Thank you…” she whispered in her own head before returning her attention to Xitzocl. Even though she did not want to kill any Marmuro’k, if that was what it took to get the chieftains to listen to her and enter a military alliance with her, she had no choice.

“Very well, I will speak with Lakai the Ancient, where can I find him?” she inquired with cause in her tone.

Xol and Xitzocl looked at each other and grinned, “Come, I will show you,” Xitzocl commanded smoothly. As Morrigan turned on her heels, she caught the murmurs of surprise by the few chieftains left that had been paying attention, though she was uncertain if they understood Terran, so she could not fathom what they had been surprised about.

A string of clicking noises stopped the three mid-step, Morrigan recognizing Yekku calling out to her, which was curious to her since it didn’t sound any different than any of the other noises Yekku made normally.

The three turned to see that Yekku and Izden had approached behind them. Yekku gestured towards Izden with even more clicks. Given the situation, Morrigan assumed that Yekku either wanted her to say something to his old chieftain, or that his old chieftain had something he wanted to say.

“Izden-Kri’ket wishes to speak with you, Red Death,” Xitzocl announced. Despite feeling a little better about her reputation, the title still sent chills down her spine however, she kept her displeasure from her face and nodded towards Izden.

Izden bowed respectfully, which was odd to see since he held himself at his full seven foot height, before he let out a long string of animated noises while Xitzocl translated, “Izden-Kri’ket wishes to express his gratitude to you for taking care of Yekku. That Yekku speaks highly of you and your victories as well as how your heart watches over him. It delights Izden-Kri’ket that his kin has found such happiness in a new clan with a chieftain as strong and caring as you are. You have a life of appreciation as well as utmost respect from Izden-Kri’ket.”

Xitzocl looked to see Morrigan’s lips pursed tightly as her eyes glistened darkly with crimson tears as she stared at Yekku’s wide eyes. Morrigan’s emotions coalesced into a chaotic mass of uncertainty and joy to hear Izden express such profound gratitude just moments after she fought to compartmentalize her belief that she was becoming a monster destined for infamy.

She pushed her emotions down and sniffed loudly before giving Izden a respectful bow, “um, thank you, Izden-Kri’ket, for your kind words and your gratitude. It gives my heart much happiness that you approve of Yekku’s transition of clans, as well as his own happiness… Yekku, well, he helped me in the darkest of times of my life, Xol too but Yekku has a pure soul. He is highly valued and deeply loved in my clan and always will be,” her response echoing the painful need to cry but reflecting the truth of her words.

There was a tiny quirk at the corners of Izden’s mouth, the short-range motion the S’randin were capable of to express a smile as Izden held out his lanky arm to shake Morrigan’s. However, Yekku squawked and batted Izden’s arm away and chirped before thrusting himself into Morrigan’s arms for his ritualistic hug and petting.

Morrigan could not keep from smiling widely as she wrapped her arms around him tightly and burying her face into the nape of his neck, fighting the urge to breakdown.

“Thank you Yekku,” she forced out in a harsh whisper and listened to the clicking purring noise he often made. A moment later Yekku slipped from her grip and chirped adamantly at Izden, gesturing to Morrigan. Izden squawked questioningly and Yekku bobbed his head in his adorable spastic manner.

Izden’s eyes widened as he faced Morrigan, Morrigan realizing that Yekku had been showing his former chieftain one of the many ways to act out a hug. A giggled slipped from her lips as she sniffed again before spreading her arms wide with a smile and nodding at Izden, inviting him in for his own hug.

Izden cautiously took a step forward and gently placed his arms around her as her own arms encompassed him. After a short moment, she gently tightened her grip on him to a comfortable level and waited for Izden to do the same before Yekku squawked at them both, Morrigan looking up to see Yekku patting himself on the head. She knew immediately what he was saying and raised her right hand to gently stroke down the length of Izden’s frilled head repeatedly.

A second later, Izden began the happy purr she often heard Yekku and Qiote make when she pet them and decided that S’randin enjoyed being petted, much like a cat or a dog, which only made the moment that much more meaningful to her.

Yekku let out a triumphant warble as the remaining chieftains gossiped loudly about the display which made her laugh and lose concentration, Izden and Xitzocl both joining in with hissing laughter caused by the ever adorable and sweet Yekku-Clarke of Clan Clarke.

◇◇◇

Klaxons blared throughout the expansive hall of the Cathedral as Solomon looked up at the transparent monitors of the central computer. The screen displayed something Solomon had been waiting for ever since Morrigan went to Mars.

“It has been some time since we destroyed the probes that came too close to the Void Star, I’m surprised it took them this long…” Solomon thought to himself as he watched a handful of Federation ships drop out of hyperspace in formation to surround the hive world. To his surprise, more and more ships continued to appear in the star lit sky until nearly 50 ships surrounded the Void Star.

After Morrigan’s stunt at Mars, Solomon knew it would have been only a matter of time until the Federation stumbled upon their hidden world, thus Solomon alerted every single person on the hive world of the impending conflict as well as developing a multitude of contingencies.

He expected a show of force however, he did not truly expect a massive fleet to be on their doorstep; that did not keep him from planning for such an occasion though. Solomon looked down and typed in a command prompt into the central computer and forwarded a world wide order for all personnel as well as a command to the anti-starship cannons to stand down. It was a signal he knew the enemy would pick up, which is why he had hidden orders buried within the broadcast. As a man of strategy both on the battlefield as well as the war zone of diplomacy, Solomon knew never to leave anything to chance. If it could be thought of, he would make a plan to counter. All he had to do was wait and receive the rest of the intel he needed to decide his next course of action.

Solomon watched as a few hundred dropships descended upon the Void Star, cycling through the hundreds of active surveillance feeds to watch as the civilian population went into hiding while the combat-oriented population came to the forefront and played the role of ordinary civilians. The efficiency of his people swelled his heart with pride as no one seemed to second guess his command. He also checked to see how many Inquisition ships were docked, “There are five unaccounted for… I was hoping for more but it’ll do,” he murmured to himself.

A few minutes passed before the archway doors groaned open and a swarm of Federation marines and Special Ops flooded the Cathedral, most of which aiming the weapons directly at him while some smart enough to recognize a threat, held up the many operators within the main hall.

A thin path was made through the middle of the mass of enemy soldiers to let a single man through, a younger man in his late 40s with an overly flashy admiral’s uniform with a gaudy number of awards and accolades pinned to his chest beneath his gold trimmed epaulets. The man strode forward with purpose as he cut through the path until he stepped up onto the raised platform on the other side of the main computer, calculating the threat Solomon posed.

“I am Major General Lippmann, by the order of Lord Commander Amaranthe, you are under arrest,” the man bit out sharply, his deep voice barely echoing in the hall. He sneered in disgust as Solomon merely smirked at him, shrugging before slowly raising his hands.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“I suppose that is true, given the number of ships you brought. We would surely lose if we tried to fight back though your losses would still be devastating,” Solomon mocked in light amusement as his gaze swept over the crowd of marines, calculating how many he could remove from the playing field before he would be shot.

The man scoffed at his comment before composing himself and removing all emotion from his demeanor, “Good, at least the rumors of you being intelligent is true. Now, the Lord Commander will have you brought aboard the Eisenhauer for interrogation. If you attempt to resist, escape or insight rebellion, your citizens will pay the consequences with their lives.”

Solomon smiled, which threw the man off for a moment before elaborating, “Here, why don’t I make this easier on you and yours. If you disagree with my broadcast feel free to shoot me on the spot.”

The general was quick on the draw when it came to aiming his weapon as Solomon lowered one hand to activate the general broadcast system, “Attention citizens of the Void Star, please do not fret, I will be parlaying with the Federation’s leadership and settling this abrupt interruption of our lives. Please, go about your days and show our visitors the same level of respect and hospitality you would to your humble Inquisitors,” he stated with levity before disengaging the system and raising his hand again.

The confusion on the general's face truly amused Solomon as he moved to step around the computer and towards the man, “Shall we?” he asked with a cheeky tone.

It was easy to tell that he had not made a fan with his passive demeanor about the situation as the general grabbed his arm forcefully and shove him forward, pressing the barrel of his gun against his back.

“Just move your ass,” Lippmann demanded before pressing the gun into Solomon’s shoulder, pushing him through the crowd of marines who systematically trained their weapons on him.

Solomon spent several hours bored aboard the Federation battleship Eisenhauer before the door to the steel walled room let out a pneumatic hiss as it slid open. In walked a man he recognized from all of the intel he had received over the passing months. Tall, broad, blonde and an insurmountable sense of outlandish purpose, Lord Commander Amaranthe.

Amaranthe grinned devilishly as he spied Solomon sitting at the plain table, outwardly showing his boredom as he stared at the ceiling and twiddled his thumbs.

“So, you’re the infamous Lord Inquisitor?” Amaranthe mocked in amusement before stepping in front of the aging man. Solomon let out a dramatically indignant breath as he rubbed his bald head and looked down from the ceiling towards Amaranthe before shrugging, neither confirming or denying.

Amaranthe sneered at the man and crossed his arms, arcs of electricity flashing over his muscles beneath his navy jacket before chuckling, “We spent a long time looking for the elusive Inquisition for a long time, yet all it took was a minor regime change and here we are, with you on your knees at the mercy of the Federation’s might,” Amaranthe pointed out smoothly.

Solomon barked a laugh at the notion before smiling back, “Frankly, if it wasn’t for you killing a certain Inquisitor’s father, I am quite certain you would still be jumping at shadows.”

The singular hint of Morrigan caused Amaranthe’s entire demeanor to change as he unfolded his arms and leaned over the table slowly, menacingly, “And tell me, where is my darling little Rose currently?” his voice enlightening Solomon to the near fanatical possessiveness the man possessed.

Solomon shrugged one shoulder and leaned back, “I am unaware of her location. Unlike you, I am not required to keep constant tabs on all of my personnel. I know what it is my people do and how they do it, and have faith in their abilities unless I hear otherwise. Last I heard, she was in the Sol system near Mars though that was a while ago.”

Solomon proudly watched his words get under Amaranthe's skin as he ground his teeth. He was also aware of the reports that stated that the Federation have opened up a relentless and extensive search for Morrigan ever since Solomon rescuing her from Castile V. The fact that Solomon had managed to keep her whereabouts secret for so long was merely a blessing.

“Besides, are you certain you want to find her? She is a force to be reckoned with and you have done quite a lot to piss her off,” Solomon pointed out this time, watching Amaranthe smirk at his words.

“There are two things in this galaxy, rulers and subjects, and I will break her will and subjugate her to my very whim! Once I’m finished using her, she will be nothing but a cowering shell of a girl less fit to lick my boot!” Amaranthe stated forcefully, the amount of feverish hatred and passion in his eyes bespoke of the fanatical madness running through his psyche, easy enough for Solomon to identify. The man before him was drunk on power and deemed himself a god amongst mortals, even his fellow humans that he commanded. Everything around him was nothing to him but simple toys he could discard at any time.

“Even so, I still don’t know where she is. Though I’m sure if I recalled the remaining Inquisition ships, she would surely come if she is capable of doing so. She may be a tempest of power but she does harbor a sense of duty befitting one of her station as an Inquisitor,” Solomon offered, secretly grinning on the inside.

Amaranthe seemed to calm drastically as he mulled the idea over in his head. Standing straight, Amaranthe still managed to loom over Solomon’s calm visage, “Very well, keep in mind though, if you attempt to play a trick on me or deceive me, I will simply destroy this precious little world of yours and cast your memory and legacy into the nearest sun.”

Solomon could not help but snort at the threat, “That would be foolish,” he said.

“Oh? Why is that?” Amaranthe asked curiously.

“Tell me, do you know why this world is called the Void Star?” he asked. Amaranthe did not respond so Solomon elaborated, “You see, this lovely hive world of mine is powered by a collapsed black hole, using a sophisticated and complex reactor and mass generator to harvest the energy from the black hole and convert it to usable, endless energy. It was tricky to design and put together a shell capable of resisting the gravitational pressure but what a feat it was to accomplish,” Solomon said wistfully, as if nearly losing himself to passionate memory.

“That's impossible!” Amaranthe exclaimed, not believing that something like that could be done.

Solomon shrugged, “Without the help of the Eskarii it would have been impossible, but they're more technologically advanced than we are respectively. They made it possible.”

Amaranthe hissed through his teeth as he tried to gauge the truth in Solomon’s words, having trouble focusing as Solomon mocked him with a snide grin. He let out an animalistic growl as he thrust his arm out towards the older man and an arc of bright electricity slammed into Solomon.

The wizened man struggled against the involuntary convulsions as his muscles stiffened and shuttered. He made no sound which appeared to bore Amaranthe as he cut off the flow of electricity to watch the man sag, his body smoking and the edges of his beard singe and curled.

“You know, nothing is really stopping me from killing you?” Amaranthe mused.

Solomon’s lungs finally responded as he inhaled deeply from his nose, swearing internally for not putting up his shield to block the attack. More so, he was surprised how strong the attack was, knowing full well by the bored expression on the commander’s face meant that he had plenty of more power to dump into an attack.

With a strained chuckled, Solomon looked up at Amaranthe, “Sure, you could. However, that would mean losing a very valuable asset, now wouldn’t it? More than just your ships when my people realize you killed their beloved leader.”

Amaranthe’s eyebrows furrowed as he processed the statement. Something in Solomon’s tone piqued his curiosity. “Go on,” he demanded as he crossed his arms again.

Solomon smirked, “Morrigan trusts me as much as she loves the life I have given her, so she will come here at some point or another, much sooner if I recall her back to the Void Star.” He watched Amaranthe focus on his words with rapt interest before continuing, “As I said, I have built my own world from nothing, much like you are building a new world out of failure. What you may not know, despite being funded by the CoU, the Inquisition holds no allegiance to anyone. We’re nothing more than glorified mercenaries, fighting or investigating for money… like any good mercenary company, we always side with the winning side,” Solomon explained with a near sinister truth.

Amaranthe looked at him in shrouds, mulling over the explanation and going over all the details of what the Federation had on the Inquisition. “His tone… this is a man who intends to survive. He also makes a point, I have heard of his little army attacking the CoU before and even subjugating worlds under CoU control though that was years ago…still, something doesn't seem right,” he thought to himself.

His gaze leveled with Solomon’s and searched for the slightest hint of a lie however, he found no notion of dishonesty in the man's behavior. “Well, how would you do this then?” he demanded cautiously.

Solomon leaned back casually, acting as if he had not taken a lethal level of voltage to his body, and shrugged, “Its simple really. Take me back to my computer, I broadcast the order and then we wait. You can even have your ships verify my broadcast.” Amaranthe appeared uneasy by the level of confidence Solomon played at, more so because his reasoning was irrefutable. If Amaranthe were in his position, he would do the same thing, but that also meant he knew the man would seek to betray him at a later time. He knew he would have to keep the Lord Inquisitor and his merry band under lock and key until it was no longer a threat to dispose of them.

“Perhaps I can just starve them out, cut off their supplies until no one had the strength the fight, then butcher the people and take this glorified space station for my own?” He thought before returning his focus to the older man.

“Fine, I’ll let you broadcast your signal, and then everyone will be watched under a microscope until I have what I want. Stay true to your word and I may just leave your world well enough alone,” Amaranthe sneered.

Solomon grinned and moved to stand, allowing Amaranthe to take him by the back of his collar and guide him out of the room and through the battleship.

The ride back down to the Void Star was uneventful as both Amaranthe and Solomon remained silent for the trip. Solomon watched as Federation marines ransacked certain businesses and stole seemingly precious goods, especially alcohol. Solomon knew Dora was having one hell of a time keeping his composure over the looting of his stock, but Solomon had promised to replenish his stock out of his own account if this event managed to come to play. His citizens cautiously milled about, seemingly going about their day as he had ordered though some eyed him suspiciously as he passed by them with the Lord Commander of the Federation in tow. However, a simple smile diffused any situation that may have arisen, letting everyone know that his plan was well underway.

Amaranthe growled under his breath as he witnessed several of his supposedly “elite hackers” fumble with the massive central computer within the Cathedral.

“What, pray tell, is the issue?” Amaranthe inquired with a sinister undertone.

One of his men zapped himself as he tried to splice a set of wires before addressing the question, “We’re not sure Lord Commander… every time we gain any sort of ground, the system seems to rewrite itself.”

Solomon held his demeanor firmly in place as Amaranth huffed in annoyance, “And what the hell does that mean?”

The man who answered before sat up from underneath the console and sighed, avoiding eye contact with his superior, “Its almost as if the system knows we’re trying to break in. We checked for any kind of artificial intelligence however, we can’t find anything out of the ordinary but as soon as we try to access anything more sensitive than the basics… instead of changing the lock, its like it rebuilds the entire house!”

Amaranthe glared at the back of Solomon’s head, knowing full well the man was amused by their failed attempts to hack into their system. However, he did not need to hack into the Inquisition database. He knew Morrigan was on the hive world because she became an Inquisitor. She only had to be ordered to return then he could capture her once again and there was no longer the colonel to get in his way.

“Get your useless asses back to the ship before I have you executed, and you, do what must be done,” he stated forcefully as he shoved Solomon forward.

As easily as Solomon could turn around and kill the Lord Commander, he knew that would not bode well for the Void Star. The old adage of removing the head from the serpent was a false ideology when it came to humanity. There was always someone new to take the place of the head. So instead, Solomon stepped around his computer and entered the command for deep space communication buried within the false prompt of dispersal.

“This is Lord Inquisitor Solomon, as is my authority, I am recalling all Inquisitorial ships to return to the Void Star. I repeat, all Inquisitors and their ships are to return to the Void Star and report to the Cathedral. God speed everyone, I await your arrival,” he stated simply and pushed the corresponding button to distribute the communication to the operators’ stations. Without needing to be told, the array of operators continued to send the broadcast.

Solomon smiled tightly and spread his arms, “See? Simple,” he mused before relaxing as he watched his operators work.

Amaranthe scrutinized the operation to try and find some sort of hidden message however, his general leaned closely and said, “Sir, the message broadcast is authentic… he really has recalled the rest of his forces…”

Amaranthe sighed indignantly, unable to shake the feeling that the situation had been far too easy, but there was nothing immediate he could identify. He also could not lounge about as the rest of his fleet began their assault of the stars. Recently, they finished cutting off the CoU from the rest of their territory and aimed their sights on the rest of the Federation’s enemies so he had a theater of war to conduct. As much as he wanted his prize, there was also no knowing when she would be delivered.

“Pick 30 ships and remain here. Do not let them out of your sights and monitor every transmission that leaves this place. I will send you further orders in the near future,” Amaranthe growled out, feeling defeated yet hopeful.

His current second in command sputtered in protest but clammed up as Amaranthe’s violent gaze fell on him. Normally he knew better than to question the Lord Commander.

Solomon on the other hand, silently basket in the amusement of his ruse. His broadcast was authentic however, recently he had devised a plan and trained each of his operators to broadcast the message in a manner lost to the ages. Something anything short of an Artificial Intelligence could figure out and of course, every Inquisition ship had an A.I. on it. Soon, every ship free from entrapment would receive a secondary message broken up within the patterns of Morse Code, to be pieced together by the super computers built into their ship’s mainframe. With a sly grin, Solomon found a seat and kicked back, enjoying the show of his enemies floundering even though they thought they won.